Chapter 53: The Sacred Tree's First Trial

“Take a look if you wish, keep a memory for yourself. But you must understand, you won’t be able to reminisce with those you once knew.”
Kong Mo sighed.
“Why? Can’t I greet old friends anymore?” Xu Xing asked, puzzled.
“It’s mainly the Patriarch of the Mo family. He holds a prejudice against you. Do you think this time it’s just him alone? Behind him stands the Great Shu and that demon catcher. This visit is to ask something of him. The demon catcher who came—I know him. He let you off once. As for what comes next, you’ll understand in time.”
With that, Kong Mo lightly waved his sleeve, and they found themselves on a shaded path beneath the trees.
It was dusk; people passed by in crowds. The group wore veils, their faces hidden from the common gaze.
Strolling gracefully down the path, the breeze rose, sweeping fallen maple leaves onto the stone road, green sprouting in the crevices.
At the corner of the alley ahead, an old woman sold flatbread. Behind her stood a robust willow tree.
Having reached the Foundation Establishment stage, Xu Xing could see the old woman’s timeworn face from afar. She resembled a faded photograph from his previous life, always stirring buried memories.
Fragments of everyday memories began to awaken.
“I… I see it. I see the most beautiful memories of the past. I see… These people never left; they only grew old with time.”
Xu Xing’s eyes reddened, blinking rapidly.
In his memory, his adoptive father was strict to a fault, never giving him or Xu Hai pocket money—only filling their bowls at home. After eating, they wandered the city.
The brothers never knew how long they would be gone, but whenever they returned, they always sought the old woman at the alley corner.
There, the willow shaded the old woman from summer heat, and she shielded the brothers from their troubles. Xu Xing and Xu Hai often nestled together in the basket where she kept her flatbread.
She would often pull out two fragrant flatbreads for them. That taste lingered sweetly in his memory.
As they grew, so did the willow, its trunk thickening, its branches curling outward. The old woman, aging, no longer had to bend so low.
In childhood, the old woman protected the willow; in youth, the willow protected her.
But now, unlike before, her basket held not only flatbread but a small child lying within.
“May I have some money?” Xu Xing choked out.
He didn’t know why—pain that once broke bones never made him cry, yet a simple memory of sesame seeds stung his eyes now.
“How much do you need?” Kong Mo replied.
“Not much. I only wish someone could eat three full meals a day.”
Xu Xing’s voice dwindled to a whisper, barely audible, and the old woman’s visage had faded like a landscape painting touched by time.
Her hair was now snowy white, her skin waxen and wrinkled, her eyes sunken. She hunched beneath the willow, watching over her flatbread.
Perhaps it was the cruelty of time; she no longer had the strength she once did. She called out in a raspy voice:
“Flatbread, flatbread! Five coins apiece, delicious and filling.”

Across the stone road, the group paused, all because of Xu Xing.
The wind tousled his black hair. Zi Yan knelt beside him, gently stroking his shoulder.
Maybe it was her comfort that deepened his sorrow; he suddenly hugged her tightly.
Passersby glanced at the four, then hurried on.
Gradually, the last golden glow faded with the sunset, and night crept in.
“Xu Xing, if you don’t go over soon, that weary old woman will leave.” Zi Yan pouted, crouching.
Swallowing, Xu Xing nodded, and the group followed him beneath the willow.
The small boy in the basket looked at them, calling out in a childish voice as Xu Xing approached:
“Big brother, you feel so familiar!”
“Ah? Really? Maybe you’re mistaken,” Xu Xing forced a smile, his face twitching.
Looking at the old woman’s lonely figure, his voice was hoarse:
“Granny, may I buy a flatbread?”
She kept her head bowed, her bent back barely supporting her, but she nodded quickly, saying:
“Alright, young man, five coins.”
Xu Xing took the flatbread, savoring it with care. In that moment, if only time could stop, tranquility would fill his heart.
Watching this peaceful scene, Kong Mo gently separated his fingers, gathering a drop of vital essence, infusing spiritual energy into Granny’s eyes.
They vanished into the dusk, the whale oil lamps casting a faint glow to light Granny’s path home.
As she packed up to leave, she found herself able to stand perfectly straight.
Her qi and blood, once waning toward old age, now let her carry her basket and run with her grandson for hundreds of meters.
“Huh? What’s happening? How have I grown young again?”
Puzzled, she lifted the cloth covering her flatbread and gasped:
“A thick stack of silver notes—who put these here?”
Beneath the notes lay a slightly wrinkled piece of white paper:
Granny, it’s me, the boy who once lay in your basket. I am no longer young.
A choked voice drifted in the wind.
...
Night came quietly and departed lightly, leaving no trace.

At dawn, as the red sun rose, in a certain peach grove stood a modest house.
“What’s this? Why has my withered wood sprouted? What’s going on?” Xu Xing exclaimed, lying in bed and staring at the sprouting wood in his pouch.
Kong Mo, unnoticed, was already sitting by Xu Xing’s bedside, smiling:
“Isn’t it because of what you did for Granny yesterday? Even Heaven was moved.”
Xu Xing frowned; such words sounded hollow and insincere.
“Hey, old man, seriously, what happened?”
“Didn’t you notice yesterday? After living there so long! That willow sapling is identical to the one in your home—they’re both among the sacred trees that once protected Sea City.”
“What?”
Xu Xing was astonished; after all these years, he learned for the first time that the willow by his side was one of Sea City’s nine sacred trees.
But why hadn’t anyone else noticed?
“Only our clan’s blood can awaken it. Yesterday, I intended to grant Granny longevity, but… it turned out to be her blessing.”
“And it’s also a test from the sacred tree. You’ve only passed the first trial. Pass all nine, and you’ll receive unimaginable fortune.”
Xu Xing smiled—not for the fortune, but from the heart, for Granny.
The sunlight touched the dimples on his cheeks, filling them with joy.
“How much did you give?” he asked, curious.
“Not much—hardly carry money with me.”
“How much? Is it enough for Granny to eat three meals a day?”
“Enough!”
The two wandered the peach blossom garden, waiting for the elder and Zi Yan to wake.
From the wheat fields came Zi Yan’s gentle voice.
Among the peach blossoms, closing his eyes, sinking deep, the flowers were like beacons on the sea.
About to leave Sea City, he felt reluctant, like a stewardess saying “Goodbye, sir” before leaving the plane.
Xu Xing shouted in the peach grove:
“Farewell, Sea City.”