Thunder streaked across Skyrim, and the colossal roar silenced even the ocean's tempest. The night was cloaked in thick clouds, so dark that only the lightning could illuminate this desolate stretch of sea.
The torch at the front of the small boat's cabin swayed, trembling with the rain and gale, casting a faint light on a small section of the deck, where the wet puddles reflected an eerie glow.
The old man leaned against the cabin wall, a pipe in his mouth. He lifted a corner of the curtain, and the wind and rain lashed fiercely against his deeply furrowed face. The bowl of his pipe glowed with a flickering light, and the old man couldn't help but narrow his eyes.
"This storm is really coming on strong."
The boat rose and fell, its wooden structure groaning. The sea, like the hand of a god, squeezed this tiny sailing toy back and forth. Being in it, one couldn't help but feel a sense of panic.
Bai Zimo sat on his bunk, holding his long sword, silent. The Taoist priest stared blankly at the young girl, who was muttering, whether talking nonsense or praying, he didn't know.
"When we go out to sea, first we pray to Lu Yuan Bodhisattva, second to Mazu, third to the Dragon King of the East Sea, and fourth to the shrimp soldiers and crab generals. As long as all aspects are taken care of, we'll be fine," the old man chuckled, his lungs full of phlegm, his voice hoarse. "Just get a good night's sleep; everything will be fine by tomorrow."
The oppressive atmosphere in the cabin eased. The Taoist priest, wanting to tell the young girl a ghost story, spoke of sea ghosts.
The more severe the weather at sea, the more likely it was to attract sea ghosts—sailors who died at sea, unable to reincarnate, and thus came to kill the living to extend their own existence. The young girl pursed her lips, her eyes sparkling, engrossed in the story, following the Taoist priest's descriptions deep into the sea and then straight to heaven.
Outside the boat, thunder roared, and within this shocking sound, a low, deep tone also began to resonate.
"Woo—"
The swordsman was startled. "What was that sound?"
The Taoist priest also sat up. "Is it a great whale?"
The old man and the young girl looked bewildered; they hadn't heard anything.
"Woo—"
Another sound, clearer this time, unstoppable by the crashing waves.
The old man put down his pipe and ducked out of the cabin. In the driving wind and rain, moonlight spilled over the western sea, and a large group of elegant giants leaped out of the water. Their forms twisted in the air, slow and steady, like mountains toppling and seas overturning. The water rippled like scales, streaking across a vast expanse of silk-like moonlight.
The whales quickly swam past that corner of the moonlit sea, entering the oppressive shadow of the dark clouds, and passed by the small boat. The old man leaned over the railing, looking down. Their shadows were deeper than the inky sea, one by one, passing beneath the boat and continuing onward.
The old man gazed blankly, lost in some memory, when behind him, the sound of wood breaking was heard.
A hand reached onto the boat's railing.
The young girl peered out from the cabin. Lightning flashed across the sky, casting light, and she clearly saw the man rising from outside the boat.
"Ah—!" she shrieked.
"There's a sea ghost!" The young girl scrambled back into the cabin. The swordsman rushed onto the deck, and the old man abruptly turned to see the towering figure.
As for the Taoist priest, his face was ashen, trembling with the young girl.
"Are you a man or not! Go out quickly and drive away the ghost with Bai Zimo!" The young girl was so exasperated by the Taoist priest's cowardice that she laughed.
The Taoist priest mumbled, "My master said we're land Taoist priests; we can't deal with sea monsters…"
"Then what are we going to do! Are we definitely going to die?"
"Don't worry, Bai Zimo is very capable…"
Bai Zimo stood before the man, sword in hand.
The other party was completely naked, his body as robust as a god's, exposed to the wind and rain. Flashes of lightning faintly illuminated his eyes, which were like slow, burning lava.
"Who are you, sir?" Bai Zimo held his sword still. He felt a great sense of danger; the man before him was definitely not someone he could defeat. But even so, a swordsman would bravely draw his sword when facing an enemy.
"I am Simon!"
Boom!
A sudden flash of lightning struck the man who called himself Simon, accompanied by a thunderous roar. The shockwave flung Bai Zimo away. In mid-air, he saw the old man curled in a corner, hands over his ears, but blood trickled out; he had suffered internal injuries from the immense sound.
Bai Zimo flipped over and grabbed a rope, narrowly avoiding falling into the sea. Looking at the man again, fine electric snakes writhed over his body, like a great cloak, yet he was completely unharmed!
Who was he?
He called himself Simon, but when had such a figure ever existed in the martial arts world?
Bai Zimo hoarsely called out to the Taoist priest, "Ping'an! Quickly help Uncle Liu inside, he's injured!" The deafening sound had numbed his hearing; he only felt his vocal cords vibrate but couldn't hear what he was saying.
The Taoist priest stumbled out, looked around, and seeing Simon's face, he exclaimed: "The one-man army Li Dingxun!"
Bai Zimo jumped back to the old man's side, fumbling in his embrace for a bottle of supreme fourth-grade Purple Jade Ginseng Powder to feed to the old man. But the old man was trembling all over, his muscles taut, his teeth clenched shut, impossible to pry open, and he wouldn't respond to any calls.
Simon frowned, looking at the sky.
When he recalled this name, he knew he was called by it, but why was he being punished by the heavens?
Was it because the power of reincarnation blocked his past life?
Or was this name too noble, and he, a mere mortal, was not allowed to use it?
"Heaven! Do not be so arrogant! One day I will replace you!" he shouted loudly, yet no thunder struck him again. Everything that had happened seemed to be just an accident.
The Taoist priest walked to the old man's side and recited a simple calming incantation. The effect was immediate; the old man relaxed, and Bai Zimo was able to administer the medicine to him.
Li Dingxun leaned over. "This man was injured because of me; I will ensure he does not die."
The Taoist priest saw such a naked, burly man and instinctively took a few steps back, then enthusiastically approached. "Brother, you must be the young sect master of the Lion Appearance Sect who single-handedly challenged the Bloodhowl Sect! You're truly handsome!"
The young girl had just lifted the curtain when she saw a pair of perfectly square buttocks, her face flushed, and she dropped the curtain, shouting outside: "Little Taoist! Is Grandfather okay!"
Li Dingxun said in a muffled voice: "I am here; he will not die."
He extended his large, fan-like hand and placed it on the old man's hunched chest.
Some memory fragments flashed back. Li Dingxun remembered scenes of healing people in the past—these were memories from his previous life—it was simply blowing a breath onto them.
Blowing a breath? Like an immortal?
There was also a churning white ocean. Li Dingxun frowned, suppressing these bizarre thoughts, and blew a breath onto the old man.
A miracle simply happened. The old man's gradually dimming eyes suddenly brightened, like a fully charged flashlight, even healthier than before.
Li Dingxun withdrew his hand, lost in thought.
So, I'm that powerful?
The Taoist priest picked up his jaw from the deck and exchanged glances with Bai Zimo.
At this moment, the wind and rain ceased, the dark clouds vanished, and stars and moon filled the sky. Li Dingxun glanced at the lively old man, then looked at the sparkling sea.
For the first time in a long while, he felt hungry.
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