Immortal Travel of Longevity

Xiao Dongxu truly admired Monk Shizhen's decisiveness.

Such scheming was truly formidable—casting every possibility into the flow of time. Not only did it cleverly help the Buddhist Schools avoid the Tribulation, but it also kept their losses to an absolute minimum.

They only needed to wait quietly for the years to pass. In the near future, this seed would take root, sprout, and gradually spread.

"Admirable!"

Xiao Dongxu let out a long breath and lay back on the ground.

But he vaguely felt that something wasn't quite right. This time, the Buddhist Schools had been far too decisive.

This was absolutely not their usual way of doing things.

It was unlikely Monk Shizhen would have made such a choice either, unless an outsider had been pulling the strings.

As for who this outsider was, Xiao Dongxu had completely failed to detect them over the past five years.

The Mysterious Gate and the Buddhist Schools—the qi destiny of both paths had already been devoured by Taotie. Next, it would be the Literary Dao's turn.

"Phew..."

At this moment, Xiao Dongxu had lost his confidence.

He felt that in the face of this upheaval, the Literary Dao was similarly destined to not escape a calamity.

And Kong Ru, too, would make a different choice regarding this matter.

In that short-lived ashram within the Mortal World, the Literary Dao had shown its first true results. The world was at peace. Under the governance of literature, the commoners lived in harmony, laws had matured, and every outcome pointed toward a path of great prosperity.

If he were Kong Ru, perhaps he would have made the same choice.

But he was Xiao Dongxu, and he had never been one to align himself closely with any particular path.

He held no obsession with preaching the dao; he cared only about right and wrong, a mindset that often left him even more conflicted.

But as things stood, he found that he seemingly no longer had the right to choose.

Taotie was already unstoppable.

...

"The Buddhist dao's qi destiny... has scattered..."

Chen Changsheng gazed into the distance. Such an upheaval seemed entirely expected.

Zhao Yuqing said, "Given the current foundation of the Buddhist Schools, they are destined to struggle for any real outcome in this great tribulation. Acting like this is quite clever; they've even managed to avoid the karma."

Chen Changsheng turned to look at him, asking, "You know?"

"How could I not know?"

Zhao Yuqing shook his head slightly. "My inner demon had a hand in this."

"No wonder..."

Chen Changsheng muttered. "Otherwise, that monk never would have made such a choice. To him, such actions betray his own heart. But when a person grows old, they are always prone to moments of confusion."

Zhao Yuqing nodded slightly. "Before long, this Cultivation World will also cease to exist."

"Yes."

Chen Changsheng looked up at the sky. "Now, what remains to be seen is who will truly rule this world in the future."

Zhao Yuqing didn't follow up on that thread. He simply said, "It does not matter who rules. I am but a tiny grain of sand between heaven and earth. No matter how things change, it has nothing to do with me."

"But this concerns This Chen."

Chen Changsheng lowered his head. He exhaled a long breath, once again falling into deep thought.

After returning to the Underworld, Chen Changsheng grew even more silent.

When playing chess with the Demon Sovereign, he was similarly absent-minded.

"Something is off with you."

The Demon Sovereign spoke bluntly.

"What's off?"

The Demon Sovereign stared into his eyes. "You are hesitating. You are wondering whether to cling to a feeble existence, or to fade away alongside the world and return to dust."

Chen Changsheng raised his head. "Neither choice feels right. No matter what I do, it won't bring me peace."

A smile tugged at the corners of the Demon Sovereign's lips. "This is our destiny. The ending is always sorrowful."

"Sometimes it feels like a joke."

"So what exactly does my life amount to?"

Chen Changsheng let out a long sigh. "It's worth absolute shit," he muttered.

"At least you left behind the title of Mister Chen."

"Mister Chen?"

Chen Changsheng shook his head. "And how many people actually know it?"

He looked at the Demon Sovereign. "Your name, on the other hand, echoes much louder."

The Demon Sovereign gave a self-deprecating laugh. "I am just an old fossil. Being forgotten in the long river of history is a far greater tragedy. Do you know? True death isn't the passing of the flesh and soul—it is being forgotten. Erased from the memory of the world."

"How could I not understand?"

Chen Changsheng exhaled a heavy breath, his thoughts weighing even heavier on his mind.

The Demon Sovereign straightened up, dropping the topic. Instead, he said, "Now that only the Literary Dao remains, it is time for me to go do my part."

"Your part?" Chen Changsheng asked in confusion.

"Yes."

The Demon Sovereign smiled faintly. "Even I have my own selfish motives, you know."

Chen Changsheng didn't ask for details, simply telling him to go if he needed to.

He could roughly guess what it was about.

...

After the Mysterious Gate fell in defeat.

Manyue also sought out Wang He.

"It is time to make good on that promise from back then."

For Wang He, Manyue's arrival was nothing short of an alarm bell.

The Demon Gate had flourished up to this day by cultivating the Ghost Dao, rising to such massive heights on the foundation of the Yellow Springs Underworld. To hand it all over now naturally left him deeply unwilling.

"What is the rush?" Wang He said. "This grand play hasn't even finished yet."

Manyue shook her head slightly. "The various paths of this world all have a chance to fight for destiny. But for you demonic cultivators of the Ghost Dao, this world likely hasn't prepared a single opportunity for you."

"How will we know if we don't try?"

"You will try?"

Manyue shook her head and smiled. "In what name will you try?"

Wang He was stunned for a moment.

Then Manyue continued, "You need to understand—outside of this place, you are all nothing. Did you really think you were the master of these ghost cultivators?"

Wang He frowned, looking at her.

Manyue said, "You are not. I am."

Wang He's expression turned grave.

"What are you going to do?"

Manyue swept her sleeve. "This has nothing to do with you!"

Wang He's tightly furrowed brows refused to relax. He knew the day would eventually come when all pretenses were dropped and daggers were drawn, but he hadn't expected it to happen so directly, or so soon.

This great tribulation in the Mortal World hadn't even ended yet.

This also meant that from the very beginning, this Lord of the Underworld had harbored ulterior motives. His years of painstaking management had merely been paving the way for someone else's triumph.

The Demon Gate was no longer the Demon Gate, but merely a representative of the Underworld.

Manyue said, "You've already gotten your revenge. I haven't treated you unfairly, have I?"

Wang He fell silent. A moment later, he brought his hands together in a salute and spoke.

"No... you haven't..."

Manyue gave a slight nod and smiled. "That's more like it."

But then Wang He suddenly raised his hand, slashing his sword forward.

Yet in the very next moment, the fundamental rules of the Underworld bound him in place. He couldn't move an inch, and the sword in his hand ground to a halt.

Manyue stepped forward and lowered her gaze to the sword.

She reached out, grasping it in her hand.

"Nice sword."

"But now, it's mine."

Manyue took the sword firmly in her grip and turned to look out over the sprawling Ghost City.

Such a wonderful place...

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