Immortal Travel of Longevity

Time passed, and the years slipped away.

In those fleeting, rapid years, all those people grew old, creeping little by little toward the end of their lives.

At fifty, a man knew the decrees of Heaven. Past confusions and fantasies of immortality had slowly dissipated by now, and gradually, a man like Zhao Wuji came to understand what life and death truly meant.

To sum it up in a single sentence: it was nothing at all.

He accepted life and death.

And so, on a night when the autumn wind rustled and heavy rain began to fall, he departed the mortal realm with a sense of release.

He set foot upon the obscure road to the Yellow Springs.

Zhao Wuji arrived in the midst of the Sand Sea. Facing the vast emptiness before him, he walked forward until the sound of flowing water reached his ears. A hall and a long bridge appeared in his vision.

"Legend says that when a person dies and enters the Underworld, they see eight hundred miles of yellow sand, are granted a bowl of Meng Po Soup to forget their mortal past, step onto the Bridge of Naihe, face their three lifetimes, and enter Reincarnation..."

Zhao Wuji fell into a momentary daze. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the hall.

A refreshing, deeply satisfying fragrance wafted against his face.

His heart jolted. Drawn completely to the cauldron of soup, he swallowed thickly.

Shaking off his daze, he noticed a young woman chatting idly with a person wearing an Opera Mask.

"It's not bad. I just brew soup every day and mess around with these wandering souls. It's pretty fun."

"You're asking how to brew the soup?"

"Huh?"

Meng Po blinked at the person before her, thoroughly confused. "Didn't you teach me that before?"

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng's heart skipped a beat. He waved his hand. "I forgot. I was just curious for a moment, so I asked."

"You forgot?"

Meng Po blinked. "It seems so. You really seem different now. The last time you saw me, it was like you didn't even recognize me."

Chen Changsheng smiled but did not answer.

The two of them continued chatting.

Suddenly, a voice drifted over.

"May I ask, are you Meng Po?"

Meng Po looked over, crossing her arms. "Yes, yes. The soup is in the pot. Serve yourself, and pass through once you drink it."

Chen Changsheng followed her gaze, but then he paused.

For some reason, he found the man before him somewhat familiar, yet he couldn't quite remember who he was.

Hearing her words, Zhao Wuji was slightly taken aback, probably not understanding why the rules here were so slipshod.

But it didn't matter. If he had to serve himself, then he would serve himself.

Smelling the aroma, he found himself genuinely craving a taste of the soup.

Just as he reached for it, a voice suddenly asked, "What is your name?"

Zhao Wuji froze for a moment. He looked up and said, "In reply to the underworld deputy, this old man's surname is Zhao. Zhao Wuji."

"Zhao Wuji..."

Chen Changsheng remembered. He said, "You are Zhao Zhen's son, the former Crown Prince of Great Xiang."

Hearing this, Zhao Wuji felt a jolt in his heart. "The underworld deputy knows of this old man?"

Chen Changsheng was about to speak, but he paused, instead saying calmly, "I've heard of you."

Zhao Wuji had never expected that someone here would recognize him.

Chen Changsheng asked, "How is the Mortal World doing now?"

Zhao Wuji replied, "The Jing people are currently in power. Back then, Prince Yu raised an army at the Border Pass. After many twists and turns, he first wiped out the Yan, then destroyed the Jin. His forces eventually reached Shangjing, and the Imperial Court surrendered. They raised the banner of Jing once more, and under his governance, the realm has returned to an era of peace and prosperity, growing more peaceful by the day..."

"Is that so."

Chen Changsheng murmured. Hearing of these matters once again left him in a slight daze.

Chen Changsheng then asked, "And how many years has Prince Yu been on the throne? Has it been ten years?"

Zhao Wuji answered respectfully, "He has been on the throne for fifteen years already. This year is precisely the fifteenth year of Shunzhi..."

"Fifteen years already."

Chen Changsheng grew even more dazed. There was no concept of time in the Underworld; in the blink of an eye, so much time had passed.

That meant fifteen years had already passed since he seized the Yellow Springs.

It truly felt like a fleeting flash.

Seeing the reminiscent look in his eyes, Zhao Wuji asked, "Is the deputy a person from around the Shunzhi era?"

"Something like that."

Chen Changsheng said. Coming back to his senses, he asked, "What about you? After the Yan were wiped out back then, I heard you went to the Northwest. What happened after that?"

"The deputy jests. Going to the Northwest all alone, what waves could I possibly make? Great Xiang's momentum was entirely lost. I merely wandered around for a time, took in the Northwest scenery, and then found a place to end my life."

"You didn't go further north?"

"I did not."

Chen Changsheng was a bit puzzled. "I don't quite understand. Why did you abandon the Yan Land back then? Were you able to foresee the future?"

"The deputy jests again. How could a mere mortal like me have such ability? As the Prince of Yan back then, I was, in reality, nothing but a puppet. Zhao Gongzuo, the one in the open, had Jing blood in his veins, which wasn't enough to uphold that title. They could only use me as a puppet to prop up the Yan Land. The reason I left back then was because this old man was at odds with the strategists. They wanted to abandon the Border Pass and allow the North Desert People to invade the realm. My views differed, so I left..."

"So that was the case. No wonder you never went to the Northern Desert later on."

"Back then, my royal father trampled West Xiao with his cavalry, driving those North Desert People back to the North. As his son, how could I seek refuge with foreigners at the end of my rope? The descendants of my Zhao family would never commit such an act of treason."

Chen Changsheng let out a long breath. "Zhao Zhen truly left behind good backbone..."

Zhao Wuji nodded. Truth be told, deep in his heart, he also profoundly admired his father.

Chen Changsheng served a bowl of soup and pushed it in front of Zhao Wuji. "Drink this soup and be on your way. Reincarnate into a good family in your next life. Ultimately, the imperial family is not a good 'place of refuge'."

Zhao Wuji nodded. He picked up the bowl of soup, but then spaced out for a moment.

"Deputy, if I drink this soup, will I truly be able to forget my past?"

"I believe so."

After a brief hesitation, Zhao Wuji lifted the bowl of soup, tilted his head back, and drank it all in one gulp.

This bowl of soup was truly a peerless delicacy.

He had lived an entire lifetime, yet he had never tasted a soup so delicious.

As he drank down the soup, the memories of his life reappeared like riding a horse and viewing flowers, scene after scene flashing past his mind's eye until the very end of his life.

A gust of autumn wind, a heavy downpour of rain.

Ultimately, absolutely everything turned to illusions.

His gaze gradually clouded over, and he forgot where he was.

A blank look settled firmly in his eyes.

Meng Po spoke up then, "Walk this way."

Chen Changsheng watched as Zhao Wuji began to walk. He moved forward, making his way all the way to the front of the Bridge of Naihe.

Beneath the bridge was the rolling, churning Yellow Springs. If one carelessly fell in, they would be doomed eternally.

Zhao Wuji crossed the bridge peacefully.

Bringing a thorough end to this life of his.

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