Immortal Travel of Longevity

Demonic qi soared into the sky.

The demonic qi within the demonic body suddenly slipped out of control.

Standing in the front hall of the Bridge of Naihe, Zhao Yuqing instantly sensed the rampant demonic qi.

"Again!"

Zhao Yuqing immediately dropped everything he was doing.

Seeing him about to leave again, Meng Po quickly called out, "Hey, Little Zhao, what are you doing? We're on the clock! Are you running off again?!"

"Something came up. Cover for me a bit. I'll be right back."

Leaving those words behind, Zhao Yuqing rushed toward the depths of the Underworld.

When he arrived, Manyue was already there, staring at a dreamscape that had suddenly materialized before them.

"The third."

Zhao Yuqing frowned, resting a hand on the Wooden Sword at his waist. "He really is stubborn."

Manyue said nothing. A moment later, Zhao Yuqing drew his sword and stepped into the dreamscape.

As Zhao Yuqing stepped inside, unfamiliar figures appeared before his eyes one after another.

These people were all old acquaintances of Chen Changsheng, manifested from the deep longing in his heart.

Zhao Yuqing raised his sword and cleaved through the phantoms one by one, shattering them.

"Thrum."

He swung his sword one last time. With a sharp thrum, the grand dream was forced back into silence.

Slowly, the surrounding sea of blood and stony mountains began to crack and collapse.

A shattering crack rang out.

Everything around them dissipated.

"Hrk..."

The scenery shifted back to the Underworld.

Sitting cross-legged, Chen Changsheng suddenly collapsed to the ground, coughing violently and dry heaving. He coughed up no blood, simply because his physical body was already withered and dry.

Zhao Yuqing strode forward and grabbed him by the collar.

"Didn't I tell you to stop cultivating that damn Dream Method? How many times has it been now? Fuck, if I'd arrived a step later, you probably wouldn't have woken up today!"

"Cough, cough, cough..."

Chen Changsheng recovered slightly, gasping heavily for air. His soul throbbed with excruciating agony, leaving him in a daze. His physical body felt as if it was rejecting him. It was as though his soul was fleeing his flesh—a deeply agonizing sensation of being ripped apart.

Shaken by Zhao Yuqing, Chen Changsheng regained a sliver of clarity.

He pushed Zhao Yuqing's hand away. "I'm fine. Go back to your work. Cough, cough..."

"You're fine?"

Zhao Yuqing let out a scoff. "Look at the state of you! Your soul nearly abandoned your body, and you're telling me you're fine?"

He refused to let go, yanking Chen Changsheng's collar again.

Chen Changsheng suddenly grew agitated, however, and slapped Zhao Yuqing's hand away.

He jerked his head up.

Demonic qi swirled within his gaze, pooling alongside raw unwillingness and bitter resentment.

"I said!" Chen Changsheng roared. "I'm fine!"

That lofty, arrogant tone made even Zhao Yuqing shudder.

In that split second, Chen Changsheng didn't seem like Chen Changsheng at all.

The demonic qi was twisting his mind, and that corpse-mountain, blood-sea dreamscape was subtly changing him. The old acquaintances within his dreams had lured him step by step into that beautiful illusion.

In just an instant, he had completely changed.

Zhao Yuqing froze for a fraction of a second, but only a fraction.

Then he raised his hand and tapped the center of Chen Changsheng's brow.

"Thump."

Chen Changsheng felt the world spin violently around him.

The demonic qi that had climbed into his divine sense was forcefully suppressed all at once.

The demonic qi swirling in his eyes dissipated, and he collapsed straight back.

Zhao Yuqing ignored him. Chen Changsheng hit the ground hard, letting out a muffled groan.

The sharp pain brought Chen Changsheng further back to reality. Weak and exhausted, the anger completely faded from his eyes, replaced by a dazed emptiness.

Zhao Yuqing stood beside him. Looking down, he delivered a single sentence.

"There won't be a next time."

"Otherwise, both you and that demonic qi will be cleaved apart beneath my sword."

With those words, Zhao Yuqing turned and left.

He was likely disappointed.

Disappointed by Chen Changsheng's weak display. His comprehension wasn't lacking, but his state of mind was far too fragile. As far as Zhao Yuqing was concerned, Chen Changsheng was currently worse off than an ordinary mortal.

His heart for seeking immortality and asking about the Dao simply wasn't firm enough.

It was exceptionally weak.

...

Panting heavily, Chen Changsheng slowly recovered a fraction of his stamina.

The excruciating pain in his soul gradually ebbed away.

Once he felt a little better, he pushed himself up and sat on the ground.

Manyue looked at him. "You cannot continue cultivating the Dream Method. The demonic qi within this demonic body is far too heavy. If you aren't careful, it will flood your dreamscape. You will sink into it, unable to escape. Eventually, entering fire and falling into demons will be inevitable. Your divine sense will be swallowed by the demonic qi, and you will become a true demon!"

Chen Changsheng lowered his head, remaining silent.

Manyue shook her head. "There is no need to be so fixated on this. You can find another way."

Chen Changsheng sat in place, offering no response to Manyue's words.

Seeing him offer no reply, Manyue let out a sigh and left.

In truth, Chen Changsheng was in agony.

He had probed the grand dream again and again, trying to change its layout, but he could never restore it to its original state. The demonic qi influenced the dream; everything inside constantly shifted, leaving the grand dream entirely out of his control.

He tried to control it, only to be played for a fool by illusion after illusion. It left him unable to swing his sword, incapable of shattering the dreamscape.

Chen Changsheng lay back.

He stared up at the dim sky of the Underworld.

He wasn't one to give up easily. He could suppress the demonic qi brought by this demonic body, but he could not suppress his own inner demon.

He was trapped.

The demonic path was inherently obsessive. It would constantly lure a cultivator astray. For those with a resolute heart, the possibilities were endless, but for those whose hearts wavered, it meant eternal damnation.

They clearly understood Chen Changsheng's weakness. They awakened his inner demon and relentlessly tortured him, dragging him deeper into it until he was trapped with no way forward or back.

Chen Changsheng fell into deep thought.

He knew the key to breaking this deadlock lay in his inner demon, yet he simply couldn't shatter it.

He had tried three times, and all three times had left him hovering between life and death.

If Zhao Yuqing hadn't been beside him, he likely would have been devoured by his inner demon. Just as Manyue had warned, he would have transformed into a true demon.

"If I don't cultivate the Dream Method, what else can I do..."

Chen Changsheng's plan had always been to beat his enemy at their own game and snatch his physical body back from that demon's hands.

It was a good plan, but fraught with endless difficulties.

He wiped his face to clear his head.

He didn't know how much time had passed.

Before the Gate of Reincarnation, Chen Changsheng slammed his fist into the ground.

A loud boom echoed out.

He climbed to his feet, a trace of renewed resolve etched between his brows.

"I refuse to believe I can't beat you, you damn inner demon!"

Chen Changsheng clenched his fists tightly.

His decision was set.

He looked up, and an instant later, his figure vanished from the spot.

Zhao Yuqing, who was leaving, was stopped by Chen Changsheng.

"What is it?" Zhao Yuqing demanded, raising an eyebrow.

Chen Changsheng looked at him. "Help me one more time."

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