Gateway of Immortality

At dawn the next day, after watching the sunrise, Qin Sang returned to his cave dwelling. He gathered the treasures he had left behind, resealed the cave's barriers, and left the Nine-Illusion Heavenly Orchid to quietly continue growing.

When he passed by the small island, he did not find Wandering Man or Li Yufu. Thus, he left behind a Sound Transmission Talisman, arranging with Wandering Man to meet at the same spot one month later.

Wandering Man's whereabouts were always uncertain, and the two had agreed to use the island as their point of contact. Qin Sang made sure to allow for a long enough window.

Afterward, Qin Sang returned once again to the Sunken Cave and summoned the flying night yaksha from the Earth Malevolent Qi.

The Earth Malevolent Qi churned violently.

From within the Earth Malevolent Qi, a shadow, dark and demonic as if born from the underworld itself, slowly emerged.

Even when it saw its master, the flying yaksha's face remained utterly expressionless.

It had been nearly a full year since Qin Sang had placed the flying yaksha in the Sunken Cave to recover on its own. During that time, Qin Sang had focused entirely on preparing for Core Formation and had not checked on it once.

Judging by its appearance, the wound at the flying yaksha's dantian had already closed, and its external injuries had fully healed. Its body no longer appeared as shriveled and gaunt as it had been after the initial trauma. On the surface, the situation looked promising.

However, when Qin Sang extended his spiritual consciousness into the flying yaksha's Qihai, he was disappointed to discover that its corpse core was still riddled with cracks and remained dull and lifeless.

There seemed to be little difference compared to a year ago.

Frowning deeply, Qin Sang carefully inspected the flying yaksha's Golden Core. Only then did he realize that there had been some minor improvements. They were subtle enough to be easily overlooked if one did not examine it closely.

The presence of improvement meant the method he had chosen for healing was correct.

But the recovery was far too slow!

"Three years..."

Qin Sang murmured to himself, his brows knitted with worry.

In three years, the Ziwei Palace would open.

If he failed to form his core by then, the flying yaksha would become his greatest source of strength when facing danger. No matter what, he had to bring it along.

"Perhaps... it might still be possible..."

Suddenly, Qin Sang realized he had been thinking too pessimistically.

The flying yaksha's recovery had been slow during the first year because its injuries had been too severe. The initial stage would naturally be the hardest; afterward, the healing speed should gradually accelerate.

Moreover, once its injuries were half-healed, he would no longer need to fear damaging the corpse core through mishandling. He could then attempt to exert control over the flying yaksha, forcing it to speed up its absorption of Earth Malevolent Qi. That might significantly hasten its recovery.

However, if he chose that path, he would lose the ability to use the flying yaksha for assistance in the meantime.

After thoroughly examining it, Qin Sang placed the flying yaksha back into the Sunken Cave to continue its slow recovery.

...

Huilong Temple.

Xianglong Mountain.

At the mountainside, a mist array had lingered for centuries, preventing ordinary mortals from setting even a foot into the mountain. Many believed it to be a land of immortals.

It was widely rumored that this mountain was a place where immortals occasionally dwelled, and within a radius of hundreds of miles, everyone regarded it as a sacred celestial mountain. Over the past century, the mountain's fame had not only spread across Guyuan Kingdom but had even reached neighboring lands.

Aspiring cultivators arrived in an endless stream.

Over the years, the small villages at the mountain's base had developed into a bustling town. Eventually, even the town could no longer accommodate the flood of hopefuls. The ruler of Guyuan Kingdom had thus ordered the construction of a full-fledged city at the foot of Xianglong Mountain.

As time passed, a new city rose from the earth.

The ruler himself had personally bestowed upon it a name that captured the hearts of the people: Xianyuan City, the City of Immortal Fate[1].

Due to its proximity to Guyuan Kingdom's capital, and because this area was neither strategic nor contested, the sudden appearance of a fortified city naturally piqued the curiosity of visiting merchants and travelers.

Although no one had ever truly attained immortal fate from this mountain, countless legends circulated from Xianyuan City. Each year, new and ever more elaborate tales emerged.

One year, it was said that a man named Zhang San was chosen by an immortal master and taken up the mountain; the next year, a man named Li Si, famed for his handsome appearance, was supposedly selected by a fairy as her partner. There were also stories of boys becoming immortal servants, herb gatherers, and alchemy apprentices...

One story after another, each more fantastical and enchanting than the last.

Twisting plots and wondrous events; each tale stirred the heart, filling people with longing and envy.

In earlier years, it was only commoners and seekers of immortality who, on festival days, would kneel and pray at the foot of the mountain, hoping for the blessings of the immortals.

But five years ago, the ruler of Guyuan Kingdom suddenly declared Xianglong Mountain a holy mountain. He even established an altar at its base and personally led the rites. Every Winter Solstice, the aged ruler, dragging his frail body, would ascend the mountain to offer incense and preside over the ceremony to honor the heavens.

After the ritual, he would dismiss his attendants and remain alone at the altar for an entire hour.

Every time he descended the mountain afterward, his face carried unmistakable disappointment.

That year's Winter Solstice had just passed. What was unusual was that the one presiding over the heavenly sacrifice had changed. It was now the crown prince who led the ceremony. Moreover, on the night of the Winter Solstice, snow began to fall, and by dawn, a sharp cold had descended across the land.

The world had turned into a sea of silver and white.

The following morning...

The residents of Xianyuan City rose early to sweep the snow from their doorsteps. Children played wildly in the snowdrifts, their laughter echoing through the streets. There were fewer merchants entering the city today; the wide streets looked nearly deserted, with only the cries of coal sellers breaking the stillness.

Xianyuan City lay directly west of Xianglong Mountain. The city's main street faced straight toward the mountain, running east to west. The western side of the street connected to the city's western gate, beyond which a long, straight gravel road led all the way to the capital.

At this moment, a young Daoist was walking eastward down the main street.

He wore a clean but old Daoist robe. After the snow, the sky had cleared, and though parts of the street had begun to thaw, bits of muddy snow clung to the leggings wrapped around his calves. Yet this did nothing to diminish the overall impression he gave.

He looked no older than twenty, but there was an unmistakable quality about him that made it impossible to ignore his presence.

This man was none other than Qin Sang.

After returning to Xianglong Mountain, Qin Sang had checked the Sound Transmission Talismans left at Huilong Temple and found no urgent matters waiting for him. Remembering Qi Yuanshou's advice, he decided to descend into the city. He swapped his usual robes for a plain Daoist outfit, blending into the mortal world as an ordinary wandering Daoist.

He deliberately suppressed his spiritual power, walking step by step through the muddy slush, unbothered by the dust or dirt clinging to him. He wandered aimlessly, glancing left and right, without any clear idea of what he wanted to see.

It was then he realized that his timing had been poor.

In the dead of winter, few common folk ventured outdoors. The streets were sparse and empty. Even if he wanted to observe the ways of the world, there simply were not enough people around.

"Young Daoist..."

As Qin Sang strode down the street, deep in thought, wondering whether he should head to the capital where crowds might be thicker, he suddenly heard someone call out to him.

He looked around. He was the only Daoist on the street. Following the voice, he saw a half-open courtyard gate beside the road, where an elderly woman was waving him over.

The old woman was bundled up in a worn, patched jacket. Though it was layered and heavily mended, it was tidy and clean.

Her face was full of wrinkles, making her look well over seventy. But with Qin Sang's discerning eyes, he could tell that she was not truly that old; it was a life of hardship that had prematurely aged her.

"Young Daoist, you must be one of those seeking the immortals, right?"

The old woman took a step toward him but slipped on the snowy ground, hastily grabbing the wall for support. Still, she warmly beckoned him over. "You must have come down the mountain early this morning. It must have been too cold up there. No one expected snow to fall so soon this year! You mustn't have eaten yet, have you? I just finished cooking at home. Come in, have something to eat, warm yourself up."

Qin Sang had been unsure where to go next. His mind turned, and he found himself nodding. He walked over, clasped his hands respectfully, and said, "Thank you, kind madam. I indeed have not yet eaten. In that case, I shall respectfully accept your hospitality."

1. In Chinese, Xian Yuan translates to Immortal Fate. ☜