Immortal Travel of Longevity

In the end, the grand formation could not completely eradicate the locust plague.

Chen Changsheng had intentionally left a sliver of survival within the array.

Yet, the massive formation still resolved their current predicament. The locust swarm no longer possessed its devastating scale, reducing it from an unstoppable force to something humanity could withstand.

The heavenly momentum had been reversed.

After a torrential downpour, the vegetation across the mountains and forests sprouted fresh green buds.

The sluggish Spiritual Energy of the world also began to slowly recover.

This would be a long, gradual process.

Evening had already fallen by the time Chen Changsheng awoke.

True Man Wulei had been waiting quietly to the side, careful not to disturb him. Thanks to this, Chen Changsheng had enjoyed a deep and restful sleep.

Chen Changsheng rose to his feet and looked up at the bright moon hanging in the sky. "Has the locust plague fully retreated?"

"It has."

True Man Wulei said, "Thanks entirely to you, Priest, the Mortal World has earned a moment of respite."

"That is good."

Chen Changsheng breathed a sigh of relief. "With this matter resolved, This Chen will not overstay his welcome."

True Man Wulei stared blankly for a moment before offering, "I can see that Fellow Daoist is exhausted. Why not rest here for a few days before making further plans?"

Chen Changsheng shook his head. "There is no need. This Chen merely wished to return and take a look. Now that I have seen it and the matter is settled, I must return to the path I was on."

True Man Wulei stood there in a daze.

He watched as the gentleman in the green robe departed on his sword. His departing figure seemed boundlessly free and untethered, yet upon closer inspection, one could sense that this man was somehow trapped within an inescapable predicament.

True Man Wulei could not quite understand it.

How could someone appear so free and easy, yet not be truly free at all?

It was a contradiction that thoroughly baffled him.

Even more incomprehensible was why this Fellow Daoist was always in such a rush—arriving in a hurry, and leaving just the same.

But regardless, the calamity of the Mortal World had finally passed.

The locust plague had retreated!

The two worlds could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

However, the formation also brought about subtle changes. From then on, every year would see a rainy season lasting nearly a month, sweeping from south to north.

Under these new climatic conditions, the locust plague ceased to exist, while the vegetation of the Mortal World flourished, nourished by the early summer rains.

This was a tremendous blessing for heaven, earth, and the Mortal World alike.

Spread through the tales of those in Cultivation, this event left a profound mark on history. The immortal surnamed Chen left behind an enduring legend that future generations would endlessly pursue.

As for Chen Changsheng, he had already left the Mortal World, once more treading his path to map the world's Geographical Maps.

The journey ahead was long and full of hardships, yet step by step, he marched toward completion.

In the blink of an eye, untold years slipped by.

Several more years came and went.

Xie Huan, having resided deep within the palace for so long, had grown old. Her hair had turned white, and wrinkles had surfaced on her face. Back then, when Yu Youyu had molded Yan Nantian's face for her, she had also imbued that face with the ability to age.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Xie Huan knew her time was coming to an end.

Whenever the winter cold set in, her knees would ache terribly; it was then she realized just how old she had become.

Xuanji would frequently visit her in the palace.

In Xuanji's eyes, this aging was painfully obvious.

His Majesty the emperor's hair had turned white, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes had deepened.

No matter how hard the attending palace maids tried, they could not conceal the deep ravines on that face nor the grizzled hair.

During a bitter winter some years later, Xie Huan's life finally came to an end.

She departed with immense peace, sitting quietly in the Imperial Study, her gaze lingering on the setting sun as she passed.

She was sixty-five years old.

In the Mortal World, reaching such an age was already considered a long life.

In such chaotic times, living past fifty was an achievement in itself, let alone for someone like Xie Huan, who had accumulated numerous hidden injuries in her youth. Sixty-five years seemed more than enough.

She died.

Yet no one truly knew it was her who had died.

The world would only ever remember the Human Sovereign Yan Nantian sitting upon the Dragon Throne, not the little girl from the Xie Clan.

Looking back, her life could be described as sweeping and magnificent, yet equally drenched in sorrow. Ultimately, it all came down to the choices she had made.

As Xie Huan's close friend and the Minister of Revenue, Tong Nianyi attended the funeral dressed in mourning white, paying her respects to the departed emperor.

On that day, the entire nation joined in mourning.

She stared at Xie Huan lying there so peacefully, unable to snap out of her daze for a long time.

She could not help but recall their very first meeting before the palace gates.

When their eyes had met, the shock of discovering each other's deepest secret, along with their grand ambitions—all of it had been buried by the relentless march of time, locked away at the bottom of their hearts.

Everything had faded away.

Upon returning to her estate, Tong Nianyi dug out the letters Xie Huan had sent her over the years.

Every line in those letters revealed Xie Huan's deep care for her.

"How have you been lately?"

This was the most frequent phrase in her letters. Xie Huan asked it every time, and Tong Nianyi always replied with a simple, "Passable."

Now, all of that was completely in the past.

...

Following Emperor Shunzhi's passing, the Crown Prince ascended the throne.

The Northern Desert happened to be in open rebellion at the time. The Crown Prince took "Ning" as his name—Yan Ning. He was the eldest son born to Yan Nantian and Noble Consort Ning in his early years, and he ascended the throne by the mandate of heaven.

On the day of his enthronement ceremony, incense was burned in a heavenly sacrifice, proclaiming his rule to the world.

Yan Ning changed the era name to Yongning.

He was forty-one years old that year.

However, during the first imperial court session following his ascension...

...an unexpected incident occurred.

Tong Nianyi, serving as the Minister of Revenue, submitted her resignation before the entire court.

This inevitably left the new emperor in an awkward position.

"My beloved minister, you have dedicated many years to the Ministry of Revenue with outstanding results. Why request to resign now?"

There was a time and place for resignations, and this was not it.

He had only just taken the throne; doing this now was a blatant slap in the face.

Even so, Yan Ning suppressed his displeasure and inquired patiently.

Tong Nianyi replied, "Your Majesty, the Ministry of Revenue is an exhausting post. The accounts that must be calculated every day are immensely burdensome and drain one's energy. Moreover, your humble subject is already fifty-three years old..."

The moment those words were spoken, the entire court froze in astonishment.

Every gaze fixed upon the figure standing in the center of the hall.

The official had a handsome face and stood tall and straight, not looking anywhere near fifty.

Yet, thinking back on it, it was true that Minister Tong had served in the imperial court for a very long time.

"You are already fifty?"

Yan Ning was taken aback; he had seemingly never paid attention to the minister's age before.

In this era, passing fifty was already considered one's twilight years.

Tong Nianyi kept her head lowered in silence.

At that moment, another official stepped forward. "Your Majesty, years ago, when Minister Tang passed away, the Ministry of Revenue devolved into chaos for a long time. It was only thanks to Lord Tong stepping up in time that the ministry's crisis was resolved. Lord Tong, if you leave now, I fear the Ministry of Revenue will..."

Hearing this, Yan Ning nodded. "Your words are reasonable. Minister Tong, you currently hold the highest position in the ministry. Leaving so suddenly is indeed inappropriate."

The surrounding court officials murmured their agreement.

Tong Nianyi let out a quiet sigh. "I still beseech Your Majesty to allow me to resign and return to my hometown," she said calmly.

The officials' expressions shifted at her stubbornness, their eyes darting nervously toward the new emperor.

Yan Ning had already given the minister plenty of face.

Yan Ning's expression darkened, his previous amiability vanishing. "Are you absolutely determined to leave?"

"I am."

"And if We do not permit you to leave?"

Tong Nianyi paused for a moment.

Suddenly, she raised her head and reached up, grasping her official winged hat.

As she pulled her hairpin free, a waterfall of black hair tumbled down her back.

The entire court gasped in sheer shock and disbelief.

Even the emperor sitting high upon the Dragon Throne could no longer maintain his composure.

Tong Nianyi's voice shifted.

It was no longer a deep, masculine baritone, but something crisp, clear, and distinctly feminine.

"Can I leave now?"

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