Immortal Travel of Longevity

When Dong Chiyu and Yu Youyu rushed to Nanbeilou, they found only the fallen horse. As for where Ruyi and Ping'an had gone, no one knew.

A sinking feeling washed over Yu Youyu. Her face paled, and she nearly fainted.

Dong Chiyu caught her and held her up in silence.

Life's partings and deaths were always an agonizing torment. With no words of comfort to offer, she could only stand and watch in silence.

The eagle demon, a creature with many years of Cultivation, had departed.

Only desolation remained on the mountain.

Ruyi kept vigil before the grave. She said nothing. A quiet calm lingered in her eyes, but beneath that calm lay an overwhelming despair.

When a person dies, the lamp goes out. She understood that truth better than anyone.

Yet she felt a welling of hatred—a hatred for the heavens.

Shouldn't a person be allowed to choose their own fate?

Heavenly condemnation... the very idea was absurd.

The mountain wind blew bitterly cold, slicing against her face like a knife.

Ruyi's face was as pale as her white hair.

She kept vigil by the grave for three days. By day, she barely spoke, but in the cold, desolate nights, the words spilled out. She no longer remembered how much she had said in the dark.

Childhood memories surfaced in her mind. Those carefree days were long gone; she was no longer a little girl, and Ping'an was no longer a little boy.

The siblings each had their own path to walk in the jianghu, out in this vast world.

At dawn on the third day, a drop of dew rolled off a leaf and landed on the tip of Ruyi's nose, as if to wake her.

"Ping'an..."

Ruyi patted the earth gently and muttered in a frail voice, "I'm leaving..."

"Your sister is leaving now..."

Even as she spoke, tears betrayed her and spilled down her cheeks.

She cried the entire way down the mountain. The wind caught her tears, drying them as they fell.

She returned to Qingshan City.

Finding a street vendor, she bought a stick of Candied Hawthorn Skewers. She ate it alone, but it tasted of nothing.

It was intensely bitter.

When she pushed open the courtyard gates in Chuanfeng Alley once more, a cloud of dust rushed out to meet her.

She cleaned the place bit by bit in silence, yet uncontrollably, her back hunched over.

It was as if she had grown old in an instant.

By the time Dong Chiyu received the news, it was already late winter. She brought Yu Youyu and rushed to Qingshan City.

Dong Chiyu's heart ached at the sight of Ruyi's haggard face.

"You silly girl."

Dong Chiyu said to her.

Ruyi pressed her lips tightly together, threw her arms around Dong Chiyu, and burst into loud sobs.

"I don't have a brother anymore..."

"Blockhead, I don't have a brother anymore."

She wailed, her tears soaking through Dong Chiyu's clothes.

Dong Chiyu gently patted her back, comforting her in silence.

In truth, she understood that Ruyi had never valued her own life, but was absolutely terrified of losing the people around her.

Yu Youyu went up the mountain to visit her master's grave. Knowing he had finally returned to his homeland brought her some happiness, but as soon as she reached the mountain, her tears fell once more.

Other than her grandfather, her master had been the kindest person to her.

Her grandfather had passed away long ago, and now her master was gone too.

That crushing loneliness tore at Yu Youyu's heart. The world was vast, yet she felt she had lost all she could lean on.

She had lost the only ones she could hold dear.

Down in the Underworld, Chen Changsheng's grand dream triggered several tremors.

The residual power of the Dream Method rippled through the Underworld.

Manyue had set up restrictions, but even she could not stop this force that blurred the line between truth and illusion.

She simply stopped trying to control it, letting it be.

Gradually, she seemed to hear the voice within the dream. The words strung together, sounding as if someone were reciting a book.

Still, she paid it no mind.

And within that dream...

Chen Changsheng, who was reciting the Classic of Mountains and Seas, suddenly paused.

The evolution of this world also came to a halt in that moment.

Zhao Yuqing, who had been keeping watch nearby, also paused. Having been deep in comprehension for a long time, he opened his eyes and looked toward Chen Changsheng.

"Are you finished?"

Zhao Yuqing muttered. Looking down, he saw that the world below was already sufficiently complete.

Chen Changsheng said, "A wisp of Sword Qi I left in the Mortal World... has shattered..."

"Hmm?"

Zhao Yuqing paused, glancing over at Chen Changsheng.

Chen Changsheng looked deeply conflicted.

When Zhao Yuqing looked down again, he saw that the world below was showing signs of shattering. The rules were shifting, and this grand dream was beginning to collapse.

Seeing this, Zhao Yuqing quickly stepped forward and pressed a finger against the center of Chen Changsheng's brow.

"Guard your mind and think of nothing else! Snap out of it, Chen Changsheng!"

Jolted by Zhao Yuqing's warning, Chen Changsheng snapped back to his senses.

He looked down at the Classic of Mountains and Seas in his hands and bit his tongue to force himself awake. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as his chaotic thoughts were forcefully reined back in.

Zhao Yuqing watched as the Dream Method gradually stabilized.

He let out a breath of relief, the heavy stone in his heart lifting. Right then and there, he truly wanted to curse Chen Changsheng out.

Even though the Dream Method had stabilized, Zhao Yuqing could still sense that Chen Changsheng's spirits had plummeted. There was no emotion left in his soft recitation.

He pursed his lips, realizing it was time for him to step up.

He would keep a close eye on Chen Changsheng, constantly guarding against any further lapses in judgment.

There was nothing to be done about it. Chen Changsheng carried too many attachments in his heart; with mortal dust weighing on his soul, climbing the great dao was difficult.

He needed someone beside him to keep him focused.

Zhao Yuqing did not look down on him. In fact, upon reflection, he felt a little envious. Sometimes, he wished he could live like Chen Changsheng—bearing great sorrow, but truly understanding the seven emotions and six desires.

...

Manyue arrived at Shanhai.

She found the departed soul that had triggered the disturbance in Chen Changsheng.

It was an old man, gray-haired and heavily wrinkled.

As Ping'an gazed out across the endless Sand Sea, his eyes were filled with bewilderment. Surrounding him were many others just as lost as he was.

He walked forward, the blowing sand obscuring his vision.

He didn't know how long he had walked before a fragrance drew him in, leading him step by step to the front of Mengpo Hall.

"Drink the soup and you will forget your past life. You can enter Reincarnation happily. Drink up, drink up."

The woman known as Meng Po handed him a bowl of soup.

Ping'an held the bowl, hesitating for a long time.

He raised his head and asked Meng Po, "Can I choose not to drink it?"

Meng Po blinked. "You can. You could stay in the Sand Sea and forgo the bridge behind me. But you have to think it through—if you wait for too long, you'll never be able to cross it, and you'll forfeit your next life."

Ping'an paused. "Do people really have a next life...?"

Meng Po thought about it and replied, "I don't know either."

Ping'an's gaze drifted through the window, settling on the hurrying souls crossing the Bridge of Naihe.

"If there really is one, I want to wait for my sister..."

He set the bowl of soup down.

Meng Po crossed her arms and said, "You're not a very obedient child."

Ping'an paused, lowering his head.

"Let me wait a while."

Meng Po gave a soft sigh and shook her head helplessly.

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