Beyond the Timescape

Chapter 29: Gazing Until the Wild Geese Vanish

The black-robed figures towered over the crowd. Heavy fabric draped over their bodies and concealed their faces, masking their identities. Yet, the occasional icy glint that pierced through their hoods was enough to make the hardened desperadoes of the Scavenger Camp shudder.

Their eyes held a chilling indifference to life, devoid of any trace of humanity. They stood like lifeless killing machines. Their mere presence seemed to invisibly disperse the sweltering June heat, casting a supernatural chill over the area outside the sundry shop.

Xu Qing had already gleaned their identities from the hushed whispers of the surrounding scavengers the moment he arrived.

“It’s the Departure Path Sect’s law enforcement team!”

“The Departure Path Sect… they’re a bunch of lunatics. They rarely show up in Scavenger Camps. Why are they here?”

“I heard they’re looking for someone. They’ve scoured every city and Scavenger Camp in the region.”

The murmurs drifted into Xu Qing’s ears. His eyes narrowed. With a flick of his wrist, the black iron skewer slid into his palm. He stared coldly at the shop.

Just then, three figures emerged from the doorway.

Two walked in front—one tall, one short.

The tall figure stood as straight as an unsheathed, blood-soaked sword. His attire starkly contrasted with the black-robed enforcers outside. He wore a blood-red robe emblazoned with a black sun. Bareheaded, his sharp, angular face and dark hair were fully exposed. A young man.

The instant he stepped outside, the black-robed enforcers moved in perfect unison, dropping to one knee and bowing their heads.

Xu Qing’s pupils constricted. The aura radiating from the young man triggered the same primal warning in his mind as encountering an apex predator deep in the restricted zone.

Beside the young man stood the short figure—the little girl.

A radiant, unprecedented smile lit up her face as she clung tightly to the young man’s hand. Judging by their ages, he was likely her older brother. The young man’s stern demeanor melted into profound gentleness when he looked down at her, though a heavy, unyielding sorrow lingered in his eyes—the look of someone mourning family lost to the apocalypse.

Behind them, the sundry shop owner trailed cautiously, his face plastered with a fawning smile as he murmured obsequiously.

Taking in the scene, Xu Qing silently slipped the iron skewer back into his sleeve. His fingers brushed against the small stones in his leather pouch, hesitating.

At that moment, the little girl spotted Xu Qing in the crowd.

She tugged her brother’s sleeve, whispering to him. As the young man’s scrutinizing gaze swept over and locked onto Xu Qing, the girl released her brother’s hand and ran over.

The scavengers around Xu Qing instinctively parted, clearing a path for her.

“My brother came to pick me up! Big brother, do you want to leave with us?” She looked at him, her eyes wide with hopeful expectation.

Xu Qing shook his head.

Disappointment flickered across her face, but she quickly forced a bright smile. “It’s okay. When I grow up, we’ll see each other again. Big brother, I promised to repay you for saving my life, and I definitely will.”

“I’m leaving with my brother now. He’s so good to me; he gives me whatever I want. Do you have a brother too?”

She chattered on until the young man by the shop called out to her.

“I have to go.” She looked at Xu Qing, reluctance pooling in her eyes. In her two months at the camp, he was the only person she had come to know.

Xu Qing looked at her. He reached into his leather pouch, pulled out a small, multi-colored stone, and held it out. “This stone removes scars. It’s for you.”

The little girl froze. She took the stone, looking up at him as if she wanted to say more, but her brother called again. Taking one last, deep look at Xu Qing, she clutched the colorful stone tightly and ran back to the young man. Surrounded by the black-robed enforcers, they began to walk away.

Halfway down the road, she turned back and waved.

Xu Qing raised his hand in return, watching the girl who always seemed to carry a happy smile disappear into the distance. Leaving this place was the right choice for her.

“Stay safe,” he murmured.

He turned and walked back to his shack.

***

Life returned to its usual rhythm. He cooked in silence, ate in silence, cleaned in silence, cultivated in silence, and attended class in silence.

Seven days slipped by.

Xu Qing had fully reverted to his slum-survival mindset. He had also realized that Master Bai wouldn’t be staying in the Scavenger Camp much longer. He had guessed as much over the past few days, watching Master Bai’s convoy pack up their equipment.

Master Bai had once mentioned they hailed from Purple Earth—the heart of the South Phoenix Continent, as Xu Qing had heard many scavengers say.

The confirmation came this morning. When Xu Qing arrived at Master Bai’s tent, the guards were gone. Chen Feiyuan and Ting Yu were nowhere to be seen.

Only Master Bai sat inside.

Xu Qing already knew the answer.

Master Bai taught the day’s lesson in meticulous detail, and Xu Qing absorbed every word. But time was merciless, and the class soon came to an end. Looking at the silent boy standing by the entrance, Master Bai let out a soft sigh.

“I am leaving.”

He looked deeply at Xu Qing. “Before I go, I will impart some knowledge that will truly aid your survival. Bound by an oath, I cannot speak of it directly. Whether you can grasp it depends entirely on your own fortune.”

Xu Qing’s gaze sharpened, locking onto the old man.

In the brief moment their eyes met, Master Bai’s faint voice echoed within the confines of the tent.

“Child, take the medicinal herbs I lectured on during the third, seventh, eleventh, fifteenth, seventeenth, and nineteenth days. Take those six herbs in a ratio of one to two to four, combine them with an equal measure of Seven-Leaf Grass, and subject them to continuous, high-temperature refinement. Doing so will yield something countless people in this world desperately need… a White Pill, equivalent to hard spirit coins!”

Xu Qing’s eyes widened, his breathing hitching.

He was no longer the ignorant boy from two months ago. He understood the astronomical value of a pill formula in this brutal world. They were fiercely guarded secrets, monopolized by major factions and powerful families.

And a formula for the White Pill—the foundational currency of the wasteland—was priceless. It was a secret people would slaughter cities to protect.

With this formula, he wouldn’t even need profound cultivation to survive. He could live comfortably just by brewing these pills.

This was a life-changing debt.

Xu Qing’s body trembled slightly. He looked at Master Bai—at the white hair at his temples, at his gentle gaze. Memories of the past two months flooded his mind. From shivering outside the tent to standing warmly inside, the old man’s earnest teachings had given him a foundation. A thousand words swelled in his chest, condensing into profound gratitude and a heavy reluctance to part.

He lowered his head, clasped his hands, and bowed deeply to the seemingly strict but inwardly kind old scholar.

“Thank you… Teacher.”

If Captain Lei had given him a glimpse of family, then Master Bai had acted as a true master, gifting him a vital skill to survive this apocalyptic world.

A smile touched Master Bai’s lips as he accepted the deep bow. Sensing the boy’s turbulent emotions, his smile softened.

“Child, I do this because you are eager to learn and possess the intellect to understand. I despise the rigid laws of this world that hoard pill formulas in the dark.”

“But sometimes, my status binds my hands. You are not the first I have taught the path of medicine and alchemy. In my travels across the South Phoenix Continent, I have shared much. The medicinal arts of humanity must not wither away behind walls of privilege.”

“Finally, between us… remember this: Heaven and earth are but an inn for all living beings, and time is merely a passing traveler from antiquity to the present. As long as we do not die, we will eventually meet again. I hope that when that day comes, you will have forged yourself into someone formidable.”

The words struck a deep chord within Xu Qing. That final phrase was the most profound thing he had ever heard. He carved it into his memory.

***

Master Bai’s convoy departed that very day. Before leaving, he gifted Xu Qing a thick, comprehensive botanical codex for self-study.

Xu Qing escorted them to the edge of the camp, standing silently as the carriages rolled away. He caught sight of Ting Yu looking back at him repeatedly until the convoy faded into the dusk.

Under the setting sun, the boy’s shadow stretched long and thin across the dirt. He stood there for a long time before slowly turning back to the camp.

The Scavenger Camp didn’t care about the departure of a few individuals.

Nothing changed. It remained filthy, teeming with the dregs of society. Old men cursed, children wailed, burly men roared with laughter, and women panted in the shadows. In the fading light, the myriad struggles of human existence were compressed into this lawless microcosm.

Walking through the muck, Xu Qing didn’t head straight home. Without realizing it, he found himself at the sundry shop. Glancing at the new clerk who had replaced the little girl, he bought a flask of wine.

He returned to his shack. He didn’t eat dinner that night.

He sat in the empty room, staring down at the wine flask. After a long silence, he lifted it and took a heavy swig.

The fiery liquid burned down his throat, exploding in his stomach and radiating heat through his limbs. Xu Qing suddenly felt that this wine—which had tasted so bitter the first time he tried it—now carried a certain flavor.

He took another sip. Then another.

In his slightly clouded mind, fragments of his life drifted by. Six years of starving in the slums. Captain Lei’s weary back as he walked through the city gates. Master Bai’s convoy disappearing into the horizon. The little girl waving goodbye.

Her parting words echoed in his ears.

“Do you have a brother too?”

“I did,” Xu Qing murmured softly, leaning against the cold wall with the flask in hand, gazing up at the moon through the window. “But I can’t find him anymore.”

Outside his room, hidden in the shadows, a purple-robed old man and his servant stood in absolute silence, listening. They remained there until the youth’s quiet murmurs drifted through the thin walls.

“Heaven and earth are but an inn for all living beings, and time is merely a passing traveler from antiquity to the present.”

“As long as we do not die… we will eventually meet again.”