Immortal Travel of Longevity

It was an era of chaos, during the season of Huaixu.

The chaotic, lawless Fiend Blood Path had finally found peace.

Rain pattered ceaselessly.

Water washed over blood-soaked streets littered with pale corpses. A few still clung to their final breaths, gazing calmly at the solemn, tragic scene as they waited quietly to close their eyes forever.

Many of these people should have died long ago. It was this filthy, wretched place—at least to the outside world—that had granted them a second life. Rather than enduring a torturous existence here, this had been the only place they could finally catch their breath.

Having lived for so many borrowed years, it was time for them to go.

More than anything, their eyes revealed a profound sense of release.

It was a look Tang Zheng couldn't understand. These people didn't seem sad or regretful about their impending deaths. They just seemed relieved.

This was likely the most perplexing scene Tang Zheng had witnessed on his entire journey.

These wanderers who braved the jianghu, fearing neither life nor death, had finally laid down the burdens in their hearts.

Squelch.

The Long Spear pierced through the old man.

Drenched and battered by the rain, Ruyi let out a long breath.

The old man lowered his head, staring at the Long Spear embedded in his chest.

At that moment, he too seemed to find release.

He exhaled softly.

Ruyi looked calmly at the old man. "You practice the Nine Yin Manual well, but you are no match for the master who guided me."

The old man fell silent and let out a final, long sigh.

Ruyi pulled the Long Spear free. The old man collapsed into the pool of blood, closing his eyes for the last time.

He should have known. The grudges of the jianghu would never truly end.

Ruyi took a step forward, drawing a flag from her sleeve.

She tied it to her Long Spear and hoisted it high, letting the banner flutter wildly in the pouring rain.

The characters for "North-South" were boldly emblazoned across the fabric.

From this day forward, the North-South Martial Alliance would stand tall in the jianghu.

Eternal!

Dozens of voices immediately echoed her.

"North-South!"

"North-South!"

"North-South!"

Dozens of voices swelled into hundreds...

The surviving enemies knew they had lost. Amid countless sighs of defeat, they too began chanting the name.

From this day forward, the jianghu finally had rules.

Splatter.

The rain continued to beat down.

Tang Zheng walked down the street.

His gaze fell upon a figure slumped by the roadside, clutching his chest. A black cloth covered the man's face.

He was on his last breath, teetering on the edge of death.

The masked man wheezed, looking up.

"Brat, it's you..." the masked man chuckled.

Tang Zheng crouched down. "It hasn't been long since we last met, yet here you are, about to die."

A bitter smile touched the masked man's lips.

A moment later, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Do you want me to save you?" Tang Zheng asked.

"My heart meridian is severed. I'm a dead man," the masked man said.

Tang Zheng looked closely at the sword wound, knowing all too well that there was nothing he could do to save him.

"Give me a quick end," the masked man pleaded. "I can't even lift my sword anymore. Consider it payback for the strike I gave you before."

For some reason, Tang Zheng felt a bitter ache in his heart.

He knew he should hate this man, yet all he felt now was pity.

"What is your name?" Tang Zheng asked. "Give me a name and a place. I'll take your body home. A man should return to his roots when he dies."

The masked man froze for a moment. "I..." He broke into a fit of coughing.

He let out a ragged breath. "I don't have a home. As for a name... forget it. Once you're dead, you're dead."

He looked Tang Zheng in the eye. "Do me this favor. Make it quick. Maybe it won't hurt as much."

Tang Zheng closed his eyes and drew the sword from his waist.

A flash of sword light swept past.

In that final instant, a look of profound relief washed over the masked man's face. "Thank you..." he murmured.

With those last words, he fell utterly still.

Tang Zheng remained crouched in front of the lifeless body, slowly wiping the blood from his blade.

He had never imagined that the jianghu would look like this.

After the battle, dozens of new graves appeared outside the Fiend Blood Path—a rare sight, and the best resting place a martial artist inhabiting this place could hope for. Usually, those who died here were never buried. Their corpses would be left in the barren wilderness to be devoured by wild beasts; such was the fate of most.

News of the Fiend Blood Path's fall spread across the entire jianghu in a matter of days.

From then on, the Fiend Blood Path was officially renamed Nanbeilou, establishing itself as a stronghold of the jianghu.

Taverns and inns across the realm buzzed with talk of what had happened.

"Spear Immortal Ruyi and Chaotic World Sword Ping'an joined forces to pacify the Fiend Blood Path! During the battle, Sword Sharpener Xu Shengzi fell to the Spear Immortal's might!"

"So that lawless place was finally crushed..."

"It's unbelievable."

"It's a blessing. The jianghu has lost a den of evil and gained a patch of pure land."

"Speaking of which, what happened to Shangguan Ningjing, the number one Sword Immortal in the world?"

"Rumor has it that the Sword Immortal faced off against the Chaotic World Sword. Their peerless sword techniques clashed all the way outside the bounds of the Fiend Blood Path. No one knows the exact outcome, but they say the Chaotic World Sword eventually returned alive, albeit heavily injured."

"Shangguan Ningjing is dead?!"

"No one has found a body. Maybe he escaped and is hiding somewhere?"

"Could he really be dead?"

The martial artists of the jianghu were incredibly curious about this.

Wild rumors flew in every direction, growing more distorted as they spread. Eventually, the vast majority of people simply accepted that Shangguan Ningjing was dead, and that the title of the world's number one Sword Immortal had changed hands. It now belonged to the Chaotic World Sword, Wang Ping'an.

Before long, heroes from all over the land flocked to the newly established faction out of sheer admiration.

Under the North-South Martial Alliance's management, the Fiend Blood Path was no longer a place of terror. The corpses that once littered the streets had long since been cleared away.

With more and more wandering martial artists answering the call, the ranks of the North-South Martial Alliance swelled.

Under their leadership, the long-chaotic jianghu gradually began to find order and stability.

"What actually happened with Shangguan Ningjing?"

Ruyi stroked the forehead of a cat nestled in her arms.

She was just as curious as the rest of the jianghu. On that day, she hadn't been able to witness the battle between Ping'an and Shangguan Ningjing.

"He broke through," Ping'an replied.

"Broke through?"

Ruyi stared at him in surprise. "To a Ninth-Rank Heavenly Being?"

Ping'an nodded. "That day, I gave it my absolute all. On the surface, it looked like an even match, but in truth, he was slightly stronger than me. At the critical moment, a strand of Sword Qi left behind by Mister saved my life. And it was exactly that strand of Sword Qi that allowed Shangguan Ningjing to comprehend the true essence of the sword. In his heavily injured, near-death state, he stepped into the Ninth-Rank Heavenly Being Realm."

Ruyi frowned. "Then why didn't he kill you?"

Ping'an shook his head. "I'm not sure. But my guess is that he didn't come here for the fight itself. He just wanted to find an opportunity in the heat of battle to step into the Heavenly Being Realm. I never expected he would actually succeed."

"Then where did he go?"

"I'm not sure. Perhaps..."

"He is no longer in the Mortal World?"

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