Chapter Seven: The Passerby

At the break of dawn, at the foot of Death Peak, a gentle breeze rustled the branches, awakening the young man.

Exhausted from his long journey, Mo Fan had fallen into a deep sleep without realizing it. Now, the morning air was crisp and refreshing across the mountain. He unwrapped the cotton cloth from his face and fetched clear water from a mountain stream, carefully washing the toxic sores on his skin. Using the water’s surface as a mirror, he wiped away the grime bit by bit. Every time he cleaned them, a wave of melancholy washed over him. Once a handsome youth, he had been reduced to something neither human nor ghost by this affliction, forced to traverse mountains and wander far from home just to seek a cure.

After tidying himself, Mo Fan wrapped his face tightly once more. He did not want a repeat of the incident with Hong Luan, where he was recognized and nearly brought disaster upon himself. It seemed the God’s Grave Village was determined to see him dead; they had not only deployed a guard unit that had long been inactive but had also issued bounties far and wide, recruiting outsiders to join the hunt. They must have invested heavily, but were they truly chasing him down just to avenge the dead?

Mo Fan sat beneath a withered tree, chewing on a piece of hard biscuit as he pondered. It was true he had killed those men, but he doubted the old village chief was kind enough to help the villagers hunt him down. "What secret lies beneath all this?"

He could not fathom it. And then there was Old Wang. Known as the "Ghost-Hand Divine Physician," his reputation was such that even the Ning family of Dongyang Prefecture had heard of him. Why would he be content to hide in the obscure God’s Grave Village? And since he knew Mo Fan was suffering from the "Poison Rot," why didn't he tell him about the antidote in Yao Ridge, instead encouraging the villagers to drive him onto the mountain? What was his motive? This was the part that baffled Mo Fan.

The Ghost-Hand Divine Physician had always been a mystery in the village, as had the old grandfather who raised him, and even Old Li, the storyteller who frequently visited—they all seemed to carry an aura of strangeness.

"Sigh, if I can't figure it out, then I won't," Mo Fan thought. "What I need to do now is climb Death Peak, find the elixir to cure these sores, leave this mountain range, and venture out into the world—and perhaps, find Xiao Yi along the way."

Dismissing his doubts, he looked at the long path of bluestone slabs and stepped onto the arduous road in search of the medicine.

The path was blanketed in thick, slippery moss. Mo Fan nearly stumbled with his very first step, but his lifelong training allowed him to regain his balance quickly, preventing a fall.

*Creak, creak!*

Friction echoed against the stone as the dust-covered youth climbed upward, one step at a time. The path was steep, and the thick moss on every slab made the ascent incredibly difficult. This road had long been abandoned; those seeking medicine here usually rode exotic beasts or flew on swords. Even the villagers had their own secret passages, and none would choose to climb these slick, steep stairs.

*Pat, pat, pat; creak, creak, creak!*

These rhythmic sounds resonated through the ancient forest, carrying a peculiar, elegant tone. Mo Fan had been climbing for half an hour and had only managed to ascend a dozen steps. As he climbed higher, the stairs grew steeper, and the moss grew thicker, making the surface even more treacherous. Each step demanded significant time and energy. Looking ahead, the path resembled a long ladder to heaven, with no end in sight.

When he reached the next step, Mo Fan wiped the sweat from his brow and looked back at his footprints with a triumphant smile. He had been counting: this was the eightieth step. One more, and he would reach the number ninety-nine. Wiping his sweat again, he set off, determined to finish the path he had chosen, no matter how difficult.

*Bang!*

As Mo Fan took his next step, an inscrutable force locked his foot in mid-air, preventing it from landing or pulling back. Startled and fearing some supernatural trap, he panicked and threw a punch into the void.

*Boom!*

The moment his fist struck the air, his mind went blank. A deafening hum, as if his brain might shatter, vibrated through his head, followed by the joyful melody of celestial music. A wisp of immortal energy unfurled in the void, and flower petals drifted down, creating a scene of profound harmony and peace.

"Who is so bold as to ascend the Heavenly Path!"

At the end of the celestial music, two heavy gates groaned open. Two giants, clad in golden armor and holding long spears, appeared, guarding the left and right sides of the gate, and roared.

"I am Mo Fan, a humble boy, greeting the two Great Gods," Mo Fan said, bowing. Whether bewitched by the celestial music or influenced by the harmonious atmosphere, he felt no fear.

"Who are you, and why do you tread the Heavenly Path?" the giants asked coldly, looking fierce.

"I am but a passerby, heading to the summit of Death Peak to seek an immortal medicine for an incurable disease. I did not mean to disturb you, and I offer my sincerest apologies." Mo Fan stated his purpose respectfully, withholding nothing—for he knew he could not hide the truth.

He could tell this place was extraordinary, especially given the mention of the "Heavenly Path," a term he had never heard. The aura emanating from these two far surpassed that of the Ning family, yet they were merely gatekeepers here. He shuddered to think what kind of beings lived within, what their cultivation levels were, and what supernatural powers they possessed.

"If that is so, why have you reached the end of the Heavenly Path and disturbed us?" one giant brandished his spear, snarling. "Speak, or you shall never leave this place alive!"

The other giant pointed his spear forward, and the resulting gust of wind blew Mo Fan backward several meters. His tattered clothes were shredded further, and the cotton cloth covering his face was swept away, exposing him completely to the two guards.

"Poison Rot!"
"The Wild Thunder Domain!"

The two giants looked on in shock, their hearts pounding. Their spears shook as if possessed. After a long silence, they sighed with pity. "A pity, a pity. A wasted domain—no hope of ascending to heaven!"

"You are a mortal who has strayed here. We shall not make things difficult for you today; leave at once," one giant said, withdrawing his spear in disappointment.

"Kind sirs, though I am but a traveler, hearing you speak of the 'Heavenly Path' has stirred my curiosity. May I ask you to enlighten me?" Mo Fan asked, wrapping his face once more.

"Insolent!"

One giant slammed his spear into the ground, causing the world to tremble, wind to howl, and thunder to roar. "This is a secret of the path of cultivation! How dare a mortal covet or pry into such things? Begone!"

"Ah!"

Before the giant had finished speaking, Mo Fan felt his body lighten, and a violent gust of wind blew him backward. He closed his eyes, felt the ground vanish beneath him, and tumbled all the way down to the foot of the peak.