Eternal Life: I Can Sell Everything

In the end, Song Ciwan resisted the urge to collect the Golden Hawthorn on the spot and sell them off.

She cradled the Golden Balls, each the size of a chicken's egg. The character for "Void" radiated outward, and suddenly, the scene she was viewing from afar changed again.

The Divine Hall with its curling green smoke vanished, as did the Snake Maiden. Time and space shifted, and when Song Ciwan focused her eyes again, she saw a broken window.

A dilapidated old window, a mottled oil lamp. A bone-chilling wind blew in through the broken frame, making the lamp's already faint flame flicker wildly, as if it could go out at any moment.

A table was set by this window, and before it sat a gaunt, middle-aged man. He held a scroll, coughing softly as he read without pause.

"COUGH COUGH COUGH! COUGH COUGH COUGH!"

His bony fingers turned the pages; he coughed three times for every one. After several such fits, a coarse, angry voice suddenly erupted from outside the house: "Reading, reading! Have you read yourself stupid, Yan Hanzhang? You're so thin you've nearly wasted away, yet you're still burning oil to read! It's not reading you're after—you're trying to be the death of me!"

'Yan Hanzhang!'

This was another name that had a place in Song Ciwan's memory.

Song Ciwan had an excellent memory; she rarely forgot anyone with whom she had direct contact.

But too many people were merely passersby in her life. And though she wouldn't forget most of them, she wouldn't make a point of remembering them, either.

'If she never thought of them again, what was the difference between that and forgetting?'

Thus, Song Ciwan had never imagined she would one day see Yan Hanzhang again.

And especially not under such strange circumstances.

Speaking of whom, this was the man who had provided Song Ciwan with her first pot of gold.

At the time, Yan Hanzhang had been down on his luck, though not impoverished. After extensive investigation, Song Ciwan had chosen him as her target. When he was at his most desperate and preparing to commit suicide, she had casually fabricated the identity of a Nameless Divine Venerable for herself and saved him.

Then, Song Ciwan had given him the recipe for MSG in exchange for an offering of several hundred taels of silver.

At the same time, Song Ciwan had also received a full catty of Wish Power from Yan Hanzhang!

Therefore, strictly speaking, Yan Hanzhang was actually one of Song Ciwan's followers.

It was just that this particular Divine Venerable, Song Ciwan, operated on a policy of clean transactions. She dealt with Yan Hanzhang only once, then paid him no further attention.

Later, Song Ciwan vaguely heard that Yan Hanzhang was living quite well thanks to the MSG recipe. But as for what happened to him after that, she didn't know.

——After all, the great upheaval at Bibo Lake had occurred, and Su Yang City had suddenly become a city devoid of Vitality.

No matter how much wealth mortals accumulate, it is ultimately as fleeting as a dream or a phantom bubble. At the slightest disturbance from the outside world, their fortunes can vanish into thin air in an instant.

So this was the state Yan Hanzhang had been reduced to, ten years later.

Yan Hanzhang cradled his book, stubbornly remaining by the window. He paid no mind to the shouting outside, simply mumbling and ceaselessly reciting from the Scriptures of the Saints and Sages in his hands.

"The sun waxes and wanes; the stars and constellations are set in the sky..."

"Cold comes and summer goes; we harvest in autumn and store in winter..."

"Why is it that the heavens and earth, the sun and moon, all wax and wane, yet I only ever wane, never to wax?"

"I have experienced the bitterest hardships of life and have fallen to its lowest depths. Why can I still not comprehend?"

"Celestial Spiritual Light, Celestial Spiritual Light... After decades of arduous study, is it all truly for nothing?"

"Why? Why?"

Yan Hanzhang's words started as a low mumble, then rose to a shout—a suppressed shout, one that he choked out from the depths of his throat.

"But I cannot accept this! I cannot!"

"'Practicing fists without internal skill leads to nothing in old age. Wealth without martial prowess means your fortune will become nothing!' I know, I know! I can't practice martial arts, and my studies are a failure. No matter how much wealth I earn, it all comes to nothing in the end. Nothing is mine, nothing at all!"

"SOB... SOB..." He actually began to weep quietly.

"Divine Venerable, you took pity on me all those years ago. Why was it only that one time? What is it I've done wrong? Please, just say something. Point me in the right direction. Even just a single scolding would be a blessing!"

"Divine Venerable! What should I do? What am I supposed to do!"

As his weeping intensified, Yan Hanzhang suddenly slammed his forehead down onto the dilapidated surface of the desk.

At that same moment, back on Song Ciwan's end of the connection, the Heaven and Earth Scale manifested, having just received an extremely dense cluster of Wish Power: [All things have spirit and are worthy of faith. Wish Power: five catties and six taels. Available for trade.]

The turbulent Wish Power surged forth in a continuous, unending torrent.

[All things have spirit and are worthy of faith. Wish Power: three catties and nine taels. Available for trade.]

[All things have spirit and are worthy of faith. Wish Power: two catties and seven taels. Available for trade.]

[All things have spirit and are worthy of faith. Wish Power: one catty and eight taels. Available for trade.]

...

Song Ciwan received nearly ten such clusters of Wish Power in a row. The amount flooding the Heaven and Earth Scale was so abundant that it astonished even her.

She truly had not expected Yan Hanzhang to be so devout toward the Nameless Divine Venerable, who had only made a single, fleeting appearance all those years ago.

This bountiful supply of Wish Power suddenly gave Song Ciwan an idea; it was as if she had found an opening.

So, from this strange vantage point, Song Ciwan extended a finger and tapped it through the void.

With that tap, an ethereal voice suddenly resounded in Yan Hanzhang's ear: "Foolish child!"

The two simple words were ethereal and unfixed, their direction of origin unknown.

Yet they held an indescribable, solemn authority, causing the weeping Yan Hanzhang to bolt upright, so shocked he was nearly rendered speechless.

He lifted his head, his eyes wide, wondering if he had heard wrong, or if his desperate thoughts had finally conjured a hallucination.

But at that moment, the majestic and ethereal voice spoke again. "Foolish child. Since you understand that 'practicing fists without internal skill leads to nothing in old age,' and 'wealth without martial prowess means your fortune will become nothing,' you should have already grasped the principle of the Void."

"Why have you uttered it countless times, yet failed to comprehend its meaning?"

Yan Hanzhang: "..."

Yan Hanzhang was speechless for a long moment before he finally found his voice.

He was both shocked and overjoyed. The emotions crashed together in his mind, robbing him of thought for a moment. He could only reply on instinct: "Divine Venerable, Divine Venerable, have you come again? Are you finally willing to look upon this disciple once more?"

Only after the words tumbled out did Yan Hanzhang realize that he had not only failed to answer the Divine Venerable's question, but had questioned the Divine Venerable in return.

He quickly added, "Divine Venerable, this disciple... this disciple is dull. My comprehension is too poor. I truly cannot grasp it. I beg for the Divine Venerable's pity!"

From the void, the majestic voice let out a sigh.

"Foolish child. You only ever beg for a Divine Venerable's pity. Do you not understand? To seek the gods but not yourself... that too is nothingness!"

"Could it be... that when I saved you all those years ago, I did not help you, but harmed you instead?"

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