Eternal Life: I Can Sell Everything

In the Deceitful Realm, Song Ciwan put on a shameful expression, delivering the performance of a lifetime.

But her heart was pounding. She had no idea if her response had been appropriate, and a sense of tension spread invisibly through her.

’To be honest, ever since she began her Cultivation, Song Ciwan had rarely felt her emotions in such turmoil. The feeling wasn’t pleasant. It was novel, yes, but more than that, it felt strange and uncontrollable.’

After a few breaths, the child across from Song Ciwan tilted his chin up slightly and grunted in acknowledgment. "Fifty-two, you say? Not exactly young, but a fine age to begin your studies! You said you have no family left. Did you originally live in Xiyuan Village, over the mountain?"

"I heard Xiyuan Village was hit by a flash flood. A pitiful sight, I’m sure..."

The child rambled on, establishing Song Ciwan’s origins in just a few words. Then he said, "Since you are of an age for studying, you shall come and study in my school!"

"The Saint taught that in education, there should be no class distinctions. For you to become an orphan at your age... now that I have met you, I cannot simply ignore your plight."

"This is your lucky day. Alright, go wait at the back of the line with your senior brothers and sisters. You will follow me on our study tour and recite the texts."

With that, the child tilted his head slightly, indicating that Song Ciwan should join the back of the line.

Song Ciwan quickly bowed her thanks to the child, then hurried to the very end of the line and stood in place obediently.

She was a newcomer and had no grasp of the situation in this Deceitful Realm. With her Cultivation sealed, she was being as docile as she possibly could.

The child saw her respectful expression and sincere demeanor and gave a subtle nod of approval.

In the distance, a fisherman was still singing. A smile on his face, the child clasped his hands behind his back and continued along the winding dirt path, leading his students forward.

As he walked, he spoke. "This winter day is truly beautiful. A perfect time to recite the poems of the ancient sages. Xie Yunxiang, you’re first. Recite a poem on the theme of a fisherman’s song."

’Xie Yunxiang!’

Song Ciwan’s heart leaped in shock at the familiar name.

Her gaze shifted, and she saw a stooped, white-haired old man step forward from the line ahead.

This man looked far older than Song Ciwan did. His skin was slack, his teeth were loose, his hair was falling out, and his wrinkled cheeks were even dotted with age spots.

If the child hadn’t called him "Xie Yunxiang," and if Song Ciwan hadn’t looked closer and realized his features were indeed those of Xie Yunxiang, she would have never recognized him. She couldn’t believe this was the same scion of a noble family that she knew!

’Xie Yunxiang has aged, too. He looks like a mortal in his eighties, easily!’

Xie Yunxiang didn’t recognize "Xin Mian" either. He simply bowed, respectfully clasping his hands toward the child in front of him, and recited in a clear voice, "Replying to you, Teacher, I will recite a poem about a fisherman’s song."

"True joy is found in having no desire, leisurely forgotten by the world. / The creak of an oar arrives, a lone paddle on the great waves. / Clouds part in the vast twilight-blue sky, the clear river reflects long autumn thoughts. / I wish to harmonize with a Xiang flute, but find my tune has no place in the courtly scales!"

He recited it fluently. The child in the lead clapped his hands and nodded repeatedly. "Not bad, not bad at all. A teachable student. Xie Yunxiang, you’ve made significant progress. You deserve a reward!"

As soon as the word "reward" left his lips, the child waved his hand.

A hazy green light swept from the child’s palm and, a moment later, entered Xie Yunxiang’s body.

A few breaths later, Xie Yunxiang’s severely hunched back suddenly straightened slightly.

Yes, his posture had straightened considerably!

This wasn’t because he consciously chose to stand up straight; it was because the injection of green light had tangibly improved his physical condition.

From loose teeth, thinning hair, a white mane, and a face full of age spots, he transformed. The spots faded, and some of his hair turned black—though not much, it was enough to see that Xie Yunxiang had seemingly grown about ten years younger in an instant.

’What a Divine Skill!’

The eyes of the other white-haired students in the line turned red with envy.

Every one of them stared at the child with a burning gaze, each wishing they could recite countless poems about fishermen on the spot to earn the teacher’s reward.

But the child was clearly a strict teacher. Unless he called on them, none of the other white-haired students dared to step forward, no matter how desperately they wanted to show off.

Of course, some among them couldn’t recite a single poem and were simply grateful the child hadn’t called their name.

Up ahead, the child lowered his hand, clasped them behind his back once more, and continued walking with the pompous air of a wizened old man.

As they walked, a Big White Goose suddenly darted onto the path ahead, flapping its wings!

"CLUCK CLUCK CLUCK!" the goose cried out cheerfully, stretching out its flat beak to peck randomly at the ground.

A strange feeling washed over Song Ciwan. The instant the white goose appeared, she almost thought she was seeing her own Big White Goose.

Of course, she quickly realized it wasn’t her Big White Goose.

Her Big White Goose was still lying in her Spirit Beast Bag, recuperating peacefully.

The creature before her looked like a white goose, but it was "clucking" and pecking all over the ground. It truly had the face of a goose but the behavior of a chicken!

The child, however, pointed at the goose and asked, "Everyone, take a look. What do you think of this chicken?"

None of the white-haired students spoke up. They all just immediately turned to look at the "chicken."

He called a goose a chicken, and yet no one contradicted him.

A smile played on the child’s lips. "For the second test, how about you all recite a poem about a chicken?"

His tests were actually quite simple. After all, he only asked them to recite a poem about a chicken, not compose one.

Not everyone can compose poetry, but when it comes to merely reciting it, could there really be someone who can’t?

Yes, as it turns out, there was!

After all, not everyone in this group was a Scholar.

Some of the Cultivators were slightly better off, like Xie Yunxiang, who came from a noble family and was naturally expected to have read more books.

But there were also those who didn’t read, or who read but never dabbled in poetry. Among the Martial Artists, such people were the majority.

This was especially true for Martial Artists from the lower classes, who had even fewer opportunities to study poetry.

With a smile, the child’s finger twitched before suddenly pointing toward someone at the back of the line.

"Zhang You, step forward."

The white-haired student named Zhang You trembled. Standing at the rear of the group, his face filled with terror and hesitation.

The child’s brow furrowed at once. In a low voice, he said, "What’s this? Zhang You, can you not even recite a single poem related to a chicken?"

Zhang You’s teeth chattered. After a long moment of hesitation, he gritted his teeth, bowed his head, and said, "Teacher, this student... this student is slow and truly incapable. I ask for my punishment!"

Seeing him actually admit his failure honestly, the child’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly.

But his expression remained displeased. "You have been far too lax. However, seeing as you had the courage to admit your fault, your punishment will be to copy the poem one hundred times tonight when we return to the school!"

With that, his hand pointed further back, landing on Song Ciwan. "New student," he said, "what is your name, and can you recite a poem?"

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