Immortal Travel of Longevity

After a brief moment of shock, Jiang Chengxiu suddenly realized something. “Why… can you speak?” he asked.

The sword in his arms stayed silent, unwilling to explain.

“Hey?”

Jiang Chengxiu called out again but got no answer.

He paused before asking, “So what did you mean just now when you said you have to leave?”

[Mr. Chen has come for me.]

“Mr. Chen? Which Mr. Chen? Can you be clearer?”

“Hey!”

The sword in his arms fell quiet once more.

Leave… have to leave…

“Then… what about me?”

The sword didn’t reply.

Panicking, Jiang Chengxiu said, “This isn’t fair! I never wanted to show off during the competition. What do I do now if you leave? If my master finds out I’m actually useless, he’ll skin me alive!”

The immortal sword stayed silent.

Jiang Chengxiu paced back and forth by the mountain stream. His worry grew stronger by the minute.

“When…” he asked, “is this Mr. Chen of yours coming?”

[Right now.]

Before the sword’s voice faded, Jiang Chengxiu felt a sudden change. He looked up. A streak of sword light cut through the sky, landing near the mountain gate. Amid that light stood a figure dressed in blue robes.

Jiang Chengxiu’s mouth hung open as he muttered in awe, “Wow… an actual Sword Immortal?”

He hurriedly picked up the sword, strapped it to his back, and rushed toward the mountain gate.

That flash of sword light at the gate had also caught the attention of Sword Mountain’s Elders.

In the blink of an eye, two more streaks of sword light shot out from the mountain. They landed gracefully before the mountain gate.

Chen Changsheng raised his gaze to see two sword-bearers standing there.

The two Sword Mountain Elders stepped forward with polite bows.

Chen Changsheng returned the gesture.

“Elder Dongqing of Sword Mountain, greets you, Daoist Friend.”

“Xu Chenghuang of Sword Mountain, greets you, Daoist Friend.”

Chen Changsheng noticed the faint Sword Qi swirling around their brows—a sign of deep knowledge of sword arts. Likely figures of high standing on the mountain.

“Chen Changsheng greets both Sword Immortals.”

Upon hearing his name, both men froze. That name sounded all too familiar. Tales of what happened at the Desolate Sea had echoed across the entire Cultivation World—they most certainly knew who he was.

Elder Dongqing stepped forward again with a bow. “So it truly is Mr. Chen! Forgive our lack of proper welcome.”

Chen Changsheng gave a slight wave. “Both Sword Immortals are too polite.”

Xu Chenghuang asked, “Might we ask what has brought Mr. Chen to our Sword Mountain?”

Chen Changsheng answered, “Long ago when I traveled far, I sent a flying sword into this world to gain experience. That sword is here on Sword Mountain today. I’ve come to take it back.”

“On our Sword Mountain?” Elder Dongqing blinked in astonishment.

He glanced at Xu Chenghuang. But Xu Chenghuang too looked confused. He had never heard of such a thing.

Chen Changsheng nodded. “Yes, the sword truly is here.”

Elder Dongqing frowned. “But over the years, we’ve never found any extra immortal sword within our walls…”

Chen Changsheng smiled gently. “My sword is rather unremarkable.”

Xu Chenghuang snapped back to himself. “Oh dear! After all this talking, we nearly forgot our manners! This is no place to chat. Please join us higher on the mountain.”

“Gladly,” said Chen Changsheng.

The two Sword Immortals guided Chen Changsheng up Sword Mountain. Countless disciples watched the three streaks of sword light fly overhead. Murmurs spread among them.

“Who was that guest?”

“Never seen him before.”

“His sword light looked just as good as the Elders’.”

“Must be someone important.”

They chattered for a while. But their lives were busy. Such important people felt worlds away.

Jiang Chengxiu had just reached the plaza before the main hall when he saw that streak of light disappear toward the mountaintop. He stopped in his tracks.

“Hey,” he asked the sword, “was that your Mr. Chen?”

[Yes.]

Jiang Chengxiu swallowed. “Your Mr. Chen… is kind of incredible…”

Putting himself next to that figure felt like comparing heaven to earth.

After some thought, Jiang Chengxiu asked, “Do I need to take you to the mountaintop?”

The Rain-Listening Sword fell silent for a moment.

[No need. Mr. Chen will call me soon.]

“Oh…”

Jiang Chengxiu looked down at the sword.

“So… uh…”

“Could you… maybe… stay a little longer?”

[Why?]

“If you leave, I can’t handle what comes next.”

The Rain-Listening Sword replied, [Yes, you can.]

“I can? Ha!” Jiang Chengxiu barked out a humorless laugh. “Way too much faith in me.”

A useless person like him? Impossible. Once the truth got out, every disciple here spitting just once would drown him.

At a simple bamboo courtyard on the mountaintop, Elder Dongqing himself poured green tea into a bowl and offered it to Chen Changsheng.

Chen Changsheng accepted it with thanks. After a thoughtful sip, he said, “This tea holds a distant scent—bitter when it touches the tongue, yet the sweetness lingers far past the bitterness. Elder Dongqing must be a true lover of tea.”

Elder Dongqing smiled. “I planted this tea myself years ago. You honor me by noticing.”

“Truly fine tea.”

For matters such as this, Sword Mountain always showed proper hospitality. Otherwise rumors might spread about poor manners.

Elder Dongqing spoke again. “Could Mr. Chen please tell us where this sword is? I’ll send a disciple to fetch it.”

Chen Changsheng shook his head. “There’s no need for the trouble.”

He lifted his hand and softly called a name.

“Listening to Rain.”

At his command, a sword light suddenly shot up from somewhere lower on the mountain. The immortal sword soared like a spark, flying straight to the mountaintop.

“Whoosh!”

Under the watchful eyes of the two Sword Immortals, the Rain-Listening Sword hung silently beside Chen Changsheng. Now they saw it clearly: a dull gleam, a sword body rough like mud had dried over it.

Elder Dongqing blinked slowly. “That’s…”

Xu Chenghuang recognized it at once. “Isn’t that Chengxiu’s sword?”

But no matter how they looked, it was nothing like an immortal sword. At the very least, far beneath someone of Chen Changsheng’s standing.

“Got a little dirty?” Chen Changsheng murmured. He took the sword and tapped its body with two fingers.

“Ting!”

With that clear note, the rough coating cascaded off like dust. Beneath it, the bare sword shone like newly polished silver.

In an instant, its dullness gave way to radiant life. A wave of Sword Qi rippled through the air, making nearby grasses tremble. Bright sword-song rang gently near their ears.

Elder Dongqing could only stare. “…A true Immortal Sword…”

Shame washed over him. Jiang Chengxiu had brought this sword into their mountain seven years ago. Seven years, and he—Jiang Chengxiu’s own master—had never suspected a thing.

Elder Dongqing gave a quiet, mocking laugh. “The immortal sword was right before my eyes all these years… and I never recognized it… Forgive me.”

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