Chapter Eighteen: Master Willow

The Sacred Mother of Nine Tails directed her venomous needle toward Tongtian’s head, the tip hovering less than an inch from his temple—danger imminent. Yet in that critical moment, the needle vanished without a trace, leaving the Sacred Mother astonished and bewildered.

From afar, a Daoist chanted: “In the era of chaos, the Great Dao was born. In the world of primordial mist, Pangu emerged. A willow branch spreads across the world, a thread of hope for all beings.”

Seeing her magical instrument disappear, the Sacred Mother frantically tried to summon it back, but it was as though it had sunk into the depths of the ocean, gone without a sign. She understood that this stranger had taken her treasure and ruined her plans.

When had such a figure appeared in the world? She had no inkling of his existence. Moreover, she could not discern his cultivation or realm; only someone at the late stage of Grand Golden Immortal could attain such a level. The Sacred Mother was secretly astonished.

“Greetings, fellow Daoist. May I ask where you have come from and where you are headed?” She realized this person had come to seize her “prey,” but decorum was still required.

“Would you be willing to hear a word from this humble Daoist?” The stranger’s robe fluttered in the wind, a willow branch resting in his palm, his bearing both elegant and transcendent—a true immortal.

“Speak freely, Daoist. I am listening.” The Sacred Mother sensed that conflict might be unavoidable, furrowed her brows, but steeled herself to respond.

“Could you spare this young friend and the other creatures, and forge a bond of kindness with me? I know of your karmic ties, but this child’s fortune is profound; his future achievements will be no less than ours—” The Daoist gestured first to Tongtian lying on the ground, then to the immobilized Treasure Mouse and Black Ox.

But before the Daoist could finish, the Sacred Mother interrupted him.

“What else do you know?” She had already guessed his intentions—to let them go. How could her child rest in peace if she did so? She had managed to delay the Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus for a moment, was about to end Tongtian’s life and claim his fortune, only for an opportunist to appear—unforgivable.

The Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus hovered above Tongtian’s body, slowly descending with an immeasurable aura of merit to heal him; the Treasure Mouse scampered to his face, affectionately licking him; the Black Ox limped toward Tongtian.

Tongtian was their hope. Though their time together was brief, in this world of the strong devouring the weak, there was no room for feelings, only the intent to kill—a cold, emotionless heart. Yet from Tongtian, they felt a warmth unknown to the primordial wilderness, a care like that of an elder brother, a parental tenderness—so gentle, so joyous.

The two beasts stood beside Tongtian, facing the Sacred Mother with hostility, shielding him from harm.

At this sight, the Sacred Mother grew furious. Since when did a mouse and an ox dare to act so brazenly before her? She snorted in anger.

The Daoist’s eyes brimmed with emotion. He felt that Tongtian had done admirably.

“Do you realize you have violated the precept of ‘greed’? It will only hinder your future progress and achievements.” Seeing the Sacred Mother’s stubbornness, the Daoist sighed softly.

“You speak so much, but aren’t you also after his fortune? If so, let us settle this with a duel.” Without waiting for a reply, the Sacred Mother wielded her power, sending the venomous needle hurtling toward the Daoist.

“Obstinate fool.” The Daoist shouted, capturing the needle.

Seeing her attack fail, the Sacred Mother gathered her immense power in her palm and began to fight him directly.

From the outset, her attacks were at a disadvantage; though every strike landed on the Daoist, he grew more formidable with each exchange. After being struck once, the Sacred Mother forced him back with her energy, preparing to flee.

But before she could escape, she realized this was not the primordial world; it was another realm entirely. When she tried again to fly, her soul was wracked with pain, growing more intense until she could no longer bear it and collapsed to the ground.

“Have you understood?” came a voice from the sky, ethereal yet real.

“Senior, I admit my mistake. Please forgive me. I will cultivate diligently and never violate the precepts again.” The Sacred Mother tried to bluff her way out, thinking that once she attained the Dao, who would know her past?

“Very well. Since you repent, you shall endure three eras before returning to the world.” The voice faded away.

When the Sacred Mother reopened her eyes, she found herself deep within the White Tiger Ridge, in the nether lava veins. The cave entrance was sealed completely. Unwilling to accept her fate, she struck the mountain wall, but it remained unscathed.

She could only wait quietly, she thought.

“Your child’s soul has not dispersed; I have taken it in.” A voice echoed from the mountain.

Upon hearing this, the Sacred Mother’s face lit with joy. “Where is my child? Where is my child?”

“Mother, mother!” came a tearful cry from the mountain, and mother and child were finally reunited.

“Though this child is deeply sinful, I have granted him a chance at rebirth. I hope he cherishes it well.” The voice whispered past the Sacred Mother’s ear.

“Thank you, Senior, for your great kindness.” She knelt and bowed to the mountain wall.

Just three eras, she thought. With a goal, she would have motivation. The Sacred Mother waited quietly.

Within the Nine-Petaled Purple Lotus, the Great God Pangu watched as the Daoist subdued the Sacred Mother, then approached him and sent a message: “You have arrived.”

The Daoist nodded. “I have come.”

Tongtian opened his heavy eyes, heard the ox bellowing, and felt a small tongue licking his face—it was the Black Ox and Treasure Mouse.

The Daoist came forward and asked, “Are you unharmed, young friend?”

Tongtian saw that everyone around him was safe and realized it was the Daoist who had saved him, the mouse, and the ox.

“Do you know me, young friend?” The Daoist smiled and asked.

Tongtian had only recently set out and knew few people, so he shook his head.

Seeing this, the Daoist said, “I am called the Willow Daoist.”

Hearing the Daoist name himself, Tongtian pondered deeply—so it was him!

After the first Dragon-Han Catastrophe, the Ancestor Hongjun attained sainthood. While soaring to the heavens to establish his domain, a Daoist intercepted him. The two fought fiercely outside the heavens, and all of Hongjun’s magical treasures were seized by this Daoist.

Hongjun asked his name, and he replied, “I am the Willow Daoist. I attained the Dao three thousand years before you.” Then, laughing heartily, he departed.

Recalling this, Tongtian felt a touch of pride—rare indeed was someone who could subdue the Dao Ancestor.

The Willow Daoist saw Tongtian reflecting and smiled, then spoke, “So you have discerned my identity, young friend Tongtian.”

When Tongtian heard himself called “young friend Tongtian,” he was momentarily stunned.