Volume One: All Things Awaken, Spring Reigns in Every Season Chapter Sixteen: Never Serving the Powerful for Personal Gain, Only Keeping a Sincere Heart to Seek the World

With a heavy heart, Mo Wen returned to the precinct, wondering if perhaps he’d been too forthright—maybe Lin Xi just needed more time to accept things. Shaking off these thoughts, he changed into his uniform and entered Su Qiang’s office.

“Chief!” he greeted.

Su Qiang didn’t respond, not even looking up. Mo Wen smiled quietly, poured himself a cup of tea, and waited in silence.

After a long pause, Su Qiang finally let out a deep sigh, his tone tinged with frustration. “Mo, you’re really something. You killed four of the Murong family’s Divine Pivot experts and Murong Hong himself! Tell me, is there anything you actually fear?”

Mo Wen met his gaze seriously, answering with conviction, “Chief, the upheaval in the world is no excuse for crime. If you feel I’ve crossed a line, then I’ll take off this uniform—gladly.”

Su Qiang waved a hand. “I’ve spoken with the Xiangchu authorities. I’ll arrange your transfer there. Once you’re out of Jiangnan, the Murong family can’t touch you. If you’ve got the talent, don’t waste it. Once you reach the Great Freedom stage, even if you tear the sky apart, no one will dare say a word.”

He fell silent again. He understood Mo Wen’s reasoning, but he couldn’t bear to see him throw his life away.

Mo Wen smiled faintly, removed his epaulets, and placed them gently on the desk. “Even if there were no Murong family, there’d be a Zhang family, a Li family—should I keep running? Leave the metropolis today, leave Xiangchu tomorrow? How can one attain true freedom when always looking over one’s shoulder?”

As he left Su Qiang’s office, Mo Wen added, “Thank you for everything, Chief. I’ll submit my resignation shortly.”

Watching Mo Wen’s departing figure, Su Qiang wanted to call him back, but the words stuck in his throat. He chuckled at himself—after all these years, he still didn’t see things as clearly as this young man barely twenty.

Mo Wen’s resignation letter was handed over by Houzi. On the blank page, a bold line: “I will not serve the powerful at the cost of my integrity; I leave my loyal heart to the martial world.”

Su Qiang read it over and over. The corner of his eye grew damp, but he ignored Houzi’s questions, slumping heavily into his chair.

Mo Wen thought for a moment, sent Lin Xi a message, packed his things, and left the precinct with a quiet smile.

He had arrived in a blaze of glory; he departed in lonely silence.

Shutting off his phone, Mo Wen returned to the university campus. The dormitory was still empty—Zhou Sheng hadn’t come back.

He found Madam Huang, thanked her in person, and inquired about Zhou Sheng’s whereabouts. Right in front of Mo Wen, she called Zhou Sheng several times, but no one answered.

After getting Zhou Sheng’s family address, Mo Wen bid her farewell, visited Zhao’s mother one last time, and then set off alone on his journey to Sichuan.

The long journey lasted more than ten hours, monotonous and tiring. The crowded train car was thick with intertwined odors, and Mo Wen frowned, but didn’t complain. Although the nation was opening up to evolution, most ordinary people remained in the Spirit Core stage—able only to strengthen their bodies, nothing more.

Yet life must go on.

Through wind and rain, the train finally stopped at Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan. Mo Wen’s destination was Leshan.

The bus was just as crowded. Amid the lively chatter of fellow travelers, the hottest topic was the Panda King of Mount Emei, who was accepting disciples without discrimination. Mo Wen was intrigued—after meeting Zhou Sheng, perhaps he’d go and see for himself.

After several hours winding through the mountains, he finally arrived. Following the address from Madam Huang, he found Zhou Sheng’s home deep in the hills, dozens of kilometers from the city. Outside the station, a few eager black-market drivers were vying for passengers. Mo Wen picked one at random, and the driver cheerfully set off.

A big fare—this trip alone would earn the driver a handsome sum. Pleased, he chatted on.

“Business has been great lately! I can make several long hauls a day.”

Watching the driver’s contented expression, Mo Wen felt a pang of envy. Perhaps, to live as an ordinary man, striving only for daily bread, was a kind of happiness.

But that wasn’t his fate. The Murong family’s threat loomed near, and the King of Fengdu’s grudge lay three years ahead. For Mo Wen, there was only one path: rise or perish.

The roads of Sichuan were treacherous; after leaving the city, the way became rough and full of potholes. The driver complained about the conditions, but was clearly used to them, chatting amiably as he drove. When the subject turned to Emei, he grinned, “That panda really became a spirit, you know!”

The regional dialect had a homely charm. After an hour, they reached Zhou Sheng’s village. Mo Wen walked the rest of the way, asking here and there until he stood before a low, clay house. The old wooden door was ajar. He called out, but there was no answer.

Pushing the door open, he found a dilapidated room. A middle-aged woman lay on the bed, a wheelchair beside her. The air was thick with the scent of herbal medicine.

Startled by the unfamiliar face, the woman struggled to sit up. “Who are you?” she demanded.

Mo Wen smiled gently. “Auntie, I’m Zhou Sheng’s classmate. I’m traveling nearby and thought I’d visit him.”

Suddenly, the woman became hysterical, crying out, “My son turned into a monster! My son turned into a monster!”

Mo Wen surmised Zhou Sheng’s mutation must have accelerated drastically—otherwise, his mother wouldn’t be in such a state. He tried asking about Zhou Sheng, but she would only repeat, “My son turned into a monster!”

Seeing this, Mo Wen could only sigh. He placed the last of his cash—just over a thousand yuan—by her bedside and departed quietly.

Wandering the vicinity, he found an elderly man tending vegetables. From the old man’s stammering account, Mo Wen learned Zhou Sheng had shut himself away after returning from school. Then, one night, he had howled like a wolf, burst out of his home, and vanished into the mountains.

The old man pointed to the vast mountain range ahead, already part of Mount Emei’s sprawl. Mo Wen thanked him and set off toward the wilderness.

Following a deserted path, Mo Wen pressed deeper into the mountains. The trail was rugged and overgrown with thorns. He searched aimlessly, finding only the tracks of wild animals.

As he ventured farther, the forest grew darker; the sun was setting. Ahead, a cliff blocked the way, but on its face, several meters above, Mo Wen spotted a huge claw print. Leaping upward, he climbed using the jutting rocks and, once over the cliff, found his view suddenly expanding. The setting sun bathed the sky in crimson glow, reminiscent of Lin Xi’s flushed cheeks that day.

Thinking of her, Mo Wen remembered his phone was still off. He powered it on—luckily, there was a faint signal here.

A string of alerts chimed—missed calls and several messages from Lin Xi.

“Little brother, why did you resign?”

“Why did you turn off your phone? Call me back!”

“So you’ve grown bold, ignoring me now? Don’t bother with me from now on, then!”

“Don’t be angry. I understand how you feel, but…”

“Reply to me, you stubborn man. Fine, I promise—I’ll cook for you every day, all right?”

Mo Wen’s nose stung with emotion. In just a few hours, Lin Xi’s messages had shifted from big sister to gentle woman.

After a brief rest, Mo Wen began descending the other side of the cliff.

“Dong, dong, dong!” Deep bell chimes rang out from afar, followed by a resonant voice echoing through the mountains: “The discourse begins. All disciples, enter!”

It was the Panda King, a master of the Realm of Illumination!