Gateway of Immortality

"Look at you, young Daoist, being all polite..."

The old woman grumbled at Qin Sang as she turned her head and called out, "Old man, old man, we've got another mouth to feed. Dish out an extra bowl of rice!"

"Where are all these mouths coming from?"

An old man poked his head out from the woodshed. When he caught sight of Qin Sang, a faint light flickered in his eyes.

He gave Qin Sang a once-over but, upon noticing the mud splattered on his leggings, a trace of disappointment flashed across the old man's face. It was so fleeting it was almost imperceptible. He gave a low grunt and withdrew without another word.

The small courtyard was extremely narrow and dilapidated.

Such ramshackle dwellings were already rare even in Xianyuan City. Qin Sang's sharp nose caught the scent of food wafting from the woodshed. The scent was from coarse grains and wild vegetables, the same kind of humble fare he had once eaten at Qingyang Temple.

Clearly, the old couple could not afford to repair their home.

Following the old woman, Qin Sang walked toward a squat stone house with only two rooms. Thick thatching covered the wooden doors. As soon as she opened one, a strong medicinal odor rushed out, instantly overpowering the smell of food.

"Qiuxian, come greet the Daoist Master."

The old woman pulled out a young child from inside. The child was terribly small and thin, his face yellowed with malnourishment. One glance, and Qin Sang could tell the boy's vital energy was weak. He was clearly plagued by chronic illness.

The room was dimly lit. A battered Eight Immortals Table[1], propped up by stones because of a broken leg, stood in the middle. Atop it sat a steaming bowl of dark medicinal soup, no doubt brewed for the boy.

Qiuxian, shy and timid, hid behind the old woman, peeking cautiously at Qin Sang. The moment their eyes met, the child flinched and quickly shrank back, not daring to make a sound.

"You silly child..."

The old woman fondly patted the boy's head without a trace of blame and warmly beckoned Qin Sang, "This is my grandson, Qiuxian. His parents died early, and he's been sickly ever since. We can't let him catch cold, so he rarely goes outside. He's timid and afraid of strangers. Come, little Daoist, sit. Don't mind the humble setting, just eat to fill your belly."

"I am not picky with food," Qin Sang replied earnestly and seated himself at the table without any pretense.

With his grandmother by his side, Qiuxian finally mustered the courage to return to the table to drink his medicine.

The thick, black soup would have been hard for even an adult to swallow, yet Qiuxian lifted the bowl and gulped it down in large mouthfuls, seemingly unaffected by the bitterness.

The old man soon returned, bringing dishes even rougher than those Qin Sang had once eaten at Qingyang Temple. Yet Qin Sang ate heartily, wolfing down the food with great appetite.

"Slow down, don't choke. There's plenty more in the pot..."

The old woman, not eating herself, watched Qin Sang with a smile full of warmth. Then she suddenly said, "Old man, if Qiuxian's parents were still alive, they'd be about the same age as this young Daoist."

The old man put down his bowl, reached for his tobacco pipe, took a puff, and said dully, "Foolishness—chasing after immortals, dreaming of living on mist and dew—they brought it on themselves."

Qin Sang paused mid-bite but quickly picked up speed, finishing the meal in a few large gulps.

The old woman was about to serve him more, but Qin Sang shook his head and declined. "It's getting late. I must continue on my journey..."

As he spoke, he glanced at Qiuxian, then walked over to him.

By now, Qiuxian was no longer quite so afraid of Qin Sang. Though still a little timid, he summoned his courage and stared up at Qin Sang with bright, sparkling eyes.

Qin Sang crouched down, patted the boy's small head, and pulled out a dull yellow jade pendant from his robes. He hung it around Qiuxian's neck and said, "Thank you all for your kindness in sharing a meal. This piece of worn jade is a small token of gratitude. May it protect Qiuxian."

Qiuxian had no spiritual root.

The pendant had been cut from an unremarkable yellow stone, not truly jade at all. Qin Sang had simply embedded a basic barrier into it. It would not attract the attention of other cultivators, yet it could subtly nourish and strengthen Qiuxian's frail body.

The child's illness was beyond mortal physicians, but for Qin Sang, it could be remedied with a casual gesture.

Living together under one roof, the old couple and the child would, over time, all benefit from the pendant's hidden effects.

"This is too much..."

The old man quickly put down his pipe, coming over to refuse.

But upon seeing that the pendant was not some priceless treasure, the couple finally stopped protesting.

Qiuxian clutched the pendant tightly, clearly delighted. Suddenly, he threw his small arms around Qin Sang's leg in a fierce hug, then darted away and hid.

After another round of polite insistence from the old couple, the three of them prepared to send Qin Sang off. Just then, a flurry of hurried footsteps rang out from outside, followed by an anxious, sobbing voice.

"Dr. Wu! Dr. Wu!"

"It's the eldest son of the Liu Family!"

The old woman immediately recognized the voice. A look of alarm crossed her face as she exclaimed, "Could it be Old Master Liu...?"

The old man thought for a moment, then grunted, "Ninety-two this year, isn't he? Likely he won't survive this time."

The old woman sighed in regret. "And just when his daughter-in-law was about to give birth too..."

"What's there to regret?" the old man said as he threw on his thick padded coat. "He's already seen five generations under one roof." He turned back and added, "I'll go over and see if they need any help. You stay here and watch over Qiuxian. If you hear anything unusual, don't wait for me to come back before you eat."

Qin Sang stepped out of the courtyard and watched the old man's hunched figure hurrying into the distance. At that moment, he suddenly realized what it was he truly wished to see.

...

The Liu Family.

With five generations living under one roof, they had become a big family.

Outside the elder's room, dozens of people—young and old—stood gathered. Compared to the loneliness of the old couple's home Qin Sang had just left, the contrast was stark.

Everyone stood solemn and silent, scarcely daring to breathe. Even the children, sensing the gravity of the moment, clung tightly to the adults at their sides, not daring to make a sound.

Inside the house, not a single noise could be heard.

Dr. Wu had yet to arrive.

Everyone waited in anxious silence.

It was then that the tense stillness was suddenly shattered by urgent shouts from within the room.

"The eldest daughter-in-law!"

"The eldest daughter-in-law! Quickly, come in!"

...

The women scrambled frantically, supporting a heavily pregnant young woman toward the door.

On the bed lay an elderly man, his face withered with age. His breath was faint—more exhalations than inhalations—yet he stubbornly kept his head turned toward the door. His lips quivered, as if struggling to say something.

The young woman entered, visibly nervous.

At this moment, no one cared about formalities. The people at the bedside quickly stepped aside and hurriedly guided the young woman forward.

The old man's cloudy eyes suddenly brightened with a last surge of light. His fingers twitched weakly. Understanding his intent, someone grabbed his hand and helped guide it toward the young woman's pregnant belly.

But before the hand could reach her, his fingers slackened and fell limply.

Sigh!

A long, heavy sigh rippled through the room.

In a shadowed corner of the room—unseen by any of the mortals—stood a Daoist.

Qin Sang stood quietly, his gaze falling upon the elder who had passed without peace. He stared into the elder's wide, unclosing eyes, still filled with unrelenting unwillingness, and thoughts stirred in his heart.

"Ninety-two years of life, five generations gathered under one roof—a rarity among mortals—and yet, even in death, he could not find peace?"

...

The patriarch of the Liu Family had passed.

Within the Liu Residence, wails and cries filled the air as the family busied themselves with funeral preparations.

By then, Qin Sang had already left. He swept his spiritual consciousness across Xianyuan City, finding nothing of particular interest. Without lingering, he quickened his pace, exited the city, and made straight for the capital of Guyuan Kingdom.

By the time he arrived on foot at the capital, it was already midday.

The city gates were guarded, but naturally, that posed no difficulty for Qin Sang.

Upon entering the city, he was surprised to discover that the old steamed bun shop he used to frequent still remained. The owner had changed. It was now the descendants of the original shopkeeper.

Qin Sang ordered several baskets of meat buns and devoured them with large, hearty bites.

After finishing his meal and paying the bill, he pointed to a towering pile of snow that had accumulated in the corner beside the shop and said calmly, "There's someone buried in there."

1. The Eight Immortal Table is an old-fashioned square table that can seat eight people. ☜