Chapter One: A Final Farewell

Atop the unnamed peak of Mount Stepping Cloud, wisps of ethereal azure smoke rose slowly, curling around the verdant grasses and hardy rocks. Now and then, drifting clouds would pass by, adding a touch of elusive beauty to the mountain scene.

The mountain was named Stepping Cloud, for those who ascended it seemed to walk upon the blue clouds themselves. As for the nameless peak, it bore no title, for it was a place beyond the reach of ordinary men, untrodden by the mundane world.

But atop this peak resided an immortal and the orphaned child of a “mortal.”

At the break of day, a young boy set up an incense burner and lit three sticks of fragrant incense.

“Father, your son comes to offer incense and kowtow to you, hoping you’ll bless me to bring down wild boars every day, so I can have meat to eat every day, hee hee.”

Kneeling before a nameless memorial tablet, the boy pressed his palms together and whispered his prayer.

A white-haired, brown-skinned old man in green robes, whose very brows exuded immortal energy, pushed open the door and stepped into the wooden hut. “Ah, you little rascal. Once a year, you offer incense to your father and always ask for the same thing?”

The boy scratched his head and grinned. “Uncle Tree, you’re an immortal and don’t need to eat meat, so you can’t understand my suffering.”

The Tree Immortal approached and tapped the boy’s head. “You child, the immortal fruits I bear grant longevity and vigor, but you insist on wild boar. No wonder you go hungry.”

“Don’t always call me ‘child, child.’ I have a name—Ye Sansi.” Ye Sansi rubbed his head. “I want to eat your immortal fruit too, but you never let me pick them. Your immortal body must be a hundred zhang tall, reaching into the sky. All these years, I’ve only ever found a few fallen fruits at your feet.”

Ye Sansi hugged the Tree Immortal’s arm and, with a child’s wheedling tone, said, “Uncle Tree, I’ve been begging you for over ten years—please, teach me the ways of immortality.”

The Tree Immortal’s face was full of gentle affection. Whether out of the promise made to Sansi’s father or their sixteen years together, he had long regarded Ye Sansi as his own. He had dwelt on this lonely peak for a thousand years; thirty years ago, he shed his tree form to take human shape. Though surrounded by birds and beasts, flowers and grass, none could speak with him or share his heart.

As the poem goes: “All day long, I drift in dreams, till spring’s end I climb the mountain with effort.” The only difference—he, a tree, was an immortal; his lifespan determined by heaven, his fate untaken by earth.

A decade past, he met a cultivator who rode his sword to this nameless peak, seeking a treasure from the Tree Immortal for the sake of all living beings. They became fast friends, swearing brotherhood over immortal springwater as wine.

But the cultivator, bound by duty to the world, had to depart, promising, “When calamity is lifted, I shall return to this peak, to drink and speak with my brother once more.”

The Tree Immortal remembered well. Four years passed, and when at last he returned, it was as a coffin and a baby.

Ye Sansi became the Tree Immortal’s sole bond to the world. For sixteen years, he raised him with meticulous care, as if he were his own child—“Ye Sansi” was his everything.

“Sansi, it’s not that I won’t teach you. I am the spirit of a tree, transformed into an immortal by absorbing the spiritual energy of this peak. I know nothing of the ways of cultivation.” The Tree Immortal stroked his beard and sighed. “I wish I could teach you, for I don’t want to see you grow old and die…”

His voice caught at the last words.

Ye Sansi quickly interjected, “Alright, alright, Uncle Tree. You told me that cultivators can soar on flying swords. If I become an immortal, I can fly to your crown and pick immortal fruit. I could even hunt wild boar from the sky—then I’d have meat every day!”

The Tree Immortal patted his head gently. “You’re grown now. It’s time you saw the world beyond.” He wiped his tears, turning away lest Sansi see. “Though I’m an immortal, bound to this peak and my tree form, I wish I could go with you to see the world below, as my sworn brother once described. But if you leave, I can no longer protect you.”

Ye Sansi stood up, smiling. “Uncle Tree, if you can’t bear for me to leave, I’ll stay forever and keep you company.”

The Tree Immortal pondered: Such a filial child. Though it pains me to send him down the mountain to face hardship alone, it would be crueler still to bind him here to a life of idleness. My brother, will Sansi follow your path, too? Very well, I’ll make the decision—let Sansi descend and walk his own road.

“Uncle Tree, why have you gone silent? What do you think? If you don’t want me to go, I’ll stay with you forever and ever!” Sansi’s voice broke the Tree Immortal’s reverie.

“You—stay on this peak your whole life? That’s not who you are. You’re full of energy and curiosity, you even talk to flowers and grass.” The Tree Immortal recalled Sansi’s antics and brightened. Placing both hands on the boy’s shoulders, he said, “Your father was a cultivator who perished for the sake of the world. I hope you can be like him, rather than spend your life in seclusion with me.”

“Immortal for the people? Uncle, I don’t understand. Why die for others instead of staying with you? I don’t want that!” Ye Sansi leapt onto his bed, curling up and turning his back.

The Tree Immortal walked over, sat by the bedside, and gently stroked Sansi’s arm. “Haven’t you always wanted to cultivate? Your father—”

“My father, my father! After all these years, you never told me who he was, or who my mother was. You only say he was a sword immortal. But everyone has a name! I’m Ye Sansi—what was my father’s name?” Sansi interrupted, sitting up.

The Tree Immortal stroked his beard and sighed. “When your father first came here seeking a treasure, he left no name, coming and going in haste. When he returned, it was as a coffin, a nameless tablet, an incense burner, a sword case, and seventy-two sticks of incense. Perhaps it’s time you went down the mountain to seek the traces of your father’s life.” With that, he left the hut.

Ye Sansi thought, Did I upset Uncle Tree? But he’s right—I should ask others, find out my father’s name, carve it on his tablet, and settle things with this ‘Immortal for the people’ who got my father killed. He clenched his fists, determined, and hurried outside lest Uncle Tree be angry for long.

As soon as he stepped outside, he saw the Tree Immortal approaching, cradling a violet sword case.

Ye Sansi ran over. The Tree Immortal smiled knowingly—he understood the boy’s temper better than anyone. “So, have you decided? Will you go down the mountain? If not, I won’t give you what’s in this sword case.”

“Yes, yes, yes! Uncle Tree, this is the sword my father left me, isn’t it?”

Ever since he was small, the word “sword” would excite Sansi, who’d pester Uncle Tree with endless questions. Now, seeing a real sword at last, his eyes shone with wonder.

The Tree Immortal chuckled, deepening his wrinkles. “This was your father’s sword. Today, I give it to you. May you one day wield it to vanquish evil.” He opened the case.

A chill swept out, and as Ye Sansi opened his palm, the sword soared up, circled in the air, and hovered before him. Its blade glowed blue and icy, four feet long and an inch wide, with a long hilt but no scabbard.

“So this is a sword! How beautiful—it even glows! I won’t need a lamp at night, ha ha!” Sansi exclaimed with irrepressible excitement.

The Tree Immortal smiled. “This sword is quite spiritual—it seems to have accepted you as its master. Your father never told me its name. Sansi, you should name it.”

“Hmm… What should I call it? I’ll call it ‘Sansi’s Sword,’” Ye Sansi declared. At once, the sword began to circle him joyfully.

The Tree Immortal laughed. “It seems to like the name. Sansi’s Sword—how fitting. Master and blade, both Sansi.”

“Sansi’s Sword, Sansi’s Sword, hee hee!” Ye Sansi adored the blade. “From now on, I’ll protect you and never let anyone bully you.”

The Tree Immortal shook his head—such a child! He sighed and said, “Sansi, pack your things, and don’t forget your father’s tablet. Offer three sticks of incense every year—never forget. Be sure to leave before noon.”

Upon the nameless peak, immortal energy drifted endlessly—it was the closest place to the realm of the immortals. For sixteen years, one tree and one boy had kept each other company. Now, they must part. Some seek immortality for themselves, to shun the world; some cultivate and wield swords for the good of all. For what will young Sansi pursue the path of immortality?

An hour passed.

“Uncle, I’ve packed everything.”

“Then hurry down. When night falls, the mountain paths grow dangerous. I can send you as far as the midpoint of Stepping Cloud Mountain, but you’ll have to walk the rest on your own.” As he spoke, the Tree Immortal stretched out a hand, transforming it into a vine to carry Ye Sansi.

Ye Sansi knelt, tears streaming down his face. “For sixteen years, I’ve owed you more than I can ever repay. If I achieve immortality and the art of sword-riding, and uncover my father’s past, I’ll return to this peak to share my adventures with you, and stay by your side forever.” With that, he kowtowed three times.

The Tree Immortal knew this parting was necessary—if he hesitated, his heart would weaken. Without a word, his vine-hand wrapped around Sansi’s waist, and with a sweep of his arm, it became an immortal branch that lifted Sansi high into the air, descended the cliff, and gently set him down halfway down the mountain.

(Sansi, I can no longer protect you. My brother, I do not know if sending him away is right, but may your spirit watch over him.)

(Uncle, with this parting, who knows when we’ll meet again? I am unfilial, leaving you alone on this peak. I will study the immortal arts and return on my sword to keep you company.) So thinking, Ye Sansi wiped away his tears and set off down the mountain road.

From this day, who could say when they would meet again? What lay ahead, neither the Tree Immortal nor Ye Sansi could foresee.

Like the stars Canopus and Shen—each in a different corner of the sky—one departs from the eastern slopes, and the other remains beneath the western window.