Chapter Three: Finding the Way Back from Lost Paths

Upon thinking of going home, Dao Sansheng was suddenly struck by a terrifying realization. The python horse was dead; returning now would surely mean his own demise. Yet his parents were still in the village, and he was determined to go back and get them out.

He recalled the python horse that had perished outside, and limped out, gazing at the beast lying on the ground, its skull crushed. A sharp pain pierced his heart. This creature had accompanied him for six years, a friend in this foreign world, bound by affection that could not be severed. When the python horse had first bolted, he’d felt some resentment, but thinking back on their shared past and seeing its broken body, his anger faded. The little fellow was dead now; he could forgive it.

Dao Sansheng dug a pit and pushed the python horse in. After so many years together, to have it die before his eyes and to bury it himself—this was closure, a settling of fate. Most importantly, the scent of blood would attract other spirit beasts. After burying it, Dao Sansheng touched the python horse’s hide in his hands. “Rest assured, brother, I won’t let your worth go to waste. This is a gift between brothers, and I accept it.”

That night, Dao Sansheng hid in a tree hollow, blocking the entrance and lighting a fire with flint—a common mineral in this world, found everywhere. It burned smokelessly for over ten hours. Cradling five snake eggs and a bird egg, Dao Sansheng drifted into sleep.

He woke at dawn, as was his habit; usually, everyone would stand in the courtyard practicing their cultivation techniques. At this hour, with Heaven and Earth newly awakened, yin and yang alternating, one would breathe in and out, tempering the body and meridians.

Dao Sansheng opened the door of the hollow, sat and meditated, focusing on his breath. For a moment, he seemed to sense the spiritual energy of Heaven and Earth flowing into his body—a feeling as if his spirit were being cleansed. It vanished as quickly as it came. He persisted, repeating hand seals, practicing even though there was no effect. The repetition made him forget the passage of time.

Unaware, his stomach growled, and only then did he stop; afternoon was approaching. Dao Sansheng realized how much time had passed without him noticing. Hunger was natural—after all, people need food, and missing a meal makes one weak. Unable to bear it, he decided to find something to eat.

He remembered the python meat he’d eaten last night—perhaps it could help him sense the spiritual energy. Digging out the remaining python meat from the earth, he sliced off the muddy parts and roasted it over the fire. Soon, the aroma spread, and he ravenously devoured the meat. After eating his fill, Dao Sansheng decided to try meditating again.

Once more, he sat and entered a trance. Following his hand movements, the sensation of spiritual energy grew stronger, and for a fleeting instant the morning’s feeling returned, only to disappear again. He tried many times, but couldn’t recapture it.

With no other options, he packed away his cultivation technique and prepared to head home. Not knowing the way, he could only search as he walked. Fortunately, he was on the edge of the mountain range, and soon found an old man from a village. The sky was darkening, and Dao Sansheng hurried over.

“Sixth Uncle, I’m lost. Are you going home? Can you take me with you?” Dao Sansheng quickly asked.

The old man stroked his beard. “My legs aren’t good, so I’ll rest in the mountains tonight. At dawn, I’ll head back to the village. Can you wait?”

He continued stroking his beard, glancing at Dao Sansheng. This elder was Dao Huichun, a renowned figure in Daojia Town. He often gathered spirit herbs in the mountains, so people saw him frequently. After returning home, he would refine the herbs into pills to sell to neighbors; for aches and pains, everyone sought him out, so he was well known.

“I can wait, I can wait,” Dao Sansheng replied hurriedly, afraid to offend the gentleman.

“Good, good,” the old man said, leading the way. After a short walk, they reached a mountain wall covered in vines. He parted the vines and entered. “Come in, little one. We’ll rest here tonight. I need to tend to my herbs—look around as you like.” Without waiting for Dao Sansheng’s response, he busied himself.

Dao Sansheng didn’t want to be a bother, so he found a spot and sat quietly, staring at the wall as if flowers bloomed upon it. After a while, the old man turned around.

“You’re quite patient for someone so young. Are you interested in my research?” He deliberately opened a medicine bottle and held it to Dao Sansheng’s nose.

Dao Sansheng scoffed inwardly. What’s so interesting about compounding medicines? I have grand ambitions. But he replied, “Since you’ve invited me, I dare not refuse. However, my elderly mother is still at home—I cannot decide without consulting my family. Please forgive me.”

The old man’s heart was even more delighted. Such a patient and filial child—he had chosen well.

The night passed swiftly, and at dawn, the old man waited outside for Dao Sansheng. Dao Sansheng had intended to practice his cultivation, but upon seeing the old man, his longing for home outweighed everything.

With the old man leading the way, the sun had barely risen when they reached the forest’s edge. Seeing the wide open land, Dao Sansheng’s tense heart finally relaxed; outside was much safer.

The old man bade Dao Sansheng farewell repeatedly, urging him not to forget to consult his parents, and finally left reluctantly.

Just after they parted, Dao Sansheng’s mood brightened. As he was about to set out, a chubby boy burst out from the nearby woods.

“Something terrible has happened, Sansheng, something terrible...”

The boy ran straight over.

“Dao Sansheng, you haven’t been home for days. Your parents have already been summoned by the clan chief. What happened to your python horse?”

The chubby boy looked at Dao Sansheng in confusion, noting his empty hands as he emerged from the mountains.

“Here!” Dao Sansheng said, and stuffed a piece of meat into the boy’s mouth.

The chubby boy instinctively opened his mouth, and Dao Sansheng dropped the meat in. It melted instantly, sweet but not cloying, fragrant and flavorful, leaving a lingering taste. The boy swallowed, savoring the flavor.

This was the initial sensation of python horse meat. After swallowing, his whole body felt warm for a moment, but the feeling quickly faded.

“Dao Sansheng, what did you feed me? It’s delicious! I want more, give me more!” The boy shouted excitedly.

Dao Sansheng laughed, handing over dozens more slices, which the boy devoured all at once, then turned back with outstretched hands.

“I want more, just a little more.”

Dao Sansheng’s smile faded.

“Fatty, this is python horse meat. Isn’t it tasty? I specially made it. How’s my cooking?”

The chubby boy was stunned, taking a long moment to stammer out, “You bastard! You made me eat this? I’ll fight you!”

He clenched his fists, but then relaxed.

“Well, since I’ve eaten your python horse meat, we’re in this together. The clan chief—well, the old man—is desperate to find you. He mobilized everyone, promising a set of advanced cultivation techniques to anyone who finds you. Now the whole town is searching for you.”

The boy glanced at Dao Sansheng, noting his calm demeanor. Anyone else would have been terrified, but Dao Sansheng acted as if nothing mattered.

“What else?” Dao Sansheng asked, eyes fixed on the boy.

“And as I told you before, he sent word that if you don’t return to face punishment, your parents have been taken to the ancestral shrine. When the time comes, your parents must bring you to be sacrificed, to appease the spirits of the ancestors.”

“The ancestors founded this clan with great difficulty, and losing a spirit beast like this is a huge blow.”

Seeing Dao Sansheng’s face turn grim, the chubby boy explained, “That’s not my opinion, it’s what the clan chief said.”