My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 205 – Ping’an’s Talent, The Deputy Temple Master of the Holy Tree Temple Arrives in Secret - Part 1
Chapter 205 – Ping’an’s Talent, The Deputy Temple Master of the Holy Tree Temple Arrives in Secret - Part 1
Deep within the ancient ghost street...
In a brightly lit general store by the side of a winding footpath, a family of three sat on a platform by the window, gathered around a small tea table.
Not far away, Feng’er stood stiffly behind the counter, entirely motionless. The atmosphere felt both eerie and warm.
Yan Yu gave her husband a sidelong glance, listening to his shameless remarks. Rolling her beautiful eyes, she teased, “Keep dreaming.”
Out in public, Li Yuan carried himself with steadiness and authority. But at home, in front of his wife, he pressed her with playful persistence, “Why not?”
Propping her chin in one hand, her legs crossed, Yan Yu said, “Just a single portrait of me isn’t enough to trigger any grudge. I’m not that powerful.”
“Oh?” Li Yuan caught onto a key point. “So it could become stronger?”
Yan Yu thought for a moment. “Maybe. But that must be some level I’m not close to reaching yet.”
“What about the Exotic Beast Garden?” Li Yuan asked.
After a bit of pondering, Yan Yu shook her head. “They shouldn’t be capable of that either. If they could make pictures of themselves that functioned like the real thing, they would’ve plastered them all over by now. Even mindless creatures figure out how to lure people in.”
Only then did Li Yuan drop the subject. In his previous life, he had watched a few horror movies. The ghosts in them typically needed a very specific physical medium, such as a cursed videotape or polluted river water, to carry their curse. Powers that made any image count as the real thing went way beyond regular ghosts; that was something beyond the norm entirely.
If his wife truly possessed such power, it would mean other ghosts of that same level also had similar abilities. In that case, this entire world would have been annihilated long ago.
At the same time, the Exotic Beast Garden now piqued his curiosity. “Yan Yu,” he asked, “you gave me all this money. Would it be enough for me to check that place out?”
Yan Yu replied, “Better not. I don’t really know much about that place.”
After a brief pause, she continued, “There are nine provinces in the Great Zhou, which likely corresponds to nine ancient ghost streets. Our Hidden River Province is tied to this Exotic Beast Garden.”
“So that thousand-mile thread is probably connected to the Exotic Beast Garden in another ancient ghost street,” Li Yuan said, remembering the small man who had captured one of his white finches using that invisible silk thread. He suspected that silk thread and his thousand-mile thread were related to the same being.
Yan Yu nodded. “Yes. When I first saw that thread on that scrawny undying husk, I paid 10 mace to get it for you. There’s the power of at least two ghosts entwined within it.
“But,” she added with a mischievous smile, “in a little while, our store will be able to offer new products made by Feng’er and the rouge peddler working together. When that time comes, I’ll take two for you to try out. So even if you can’t use a painting of me as a door ward or a chestplate, don’t lose heart.”
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
Seven days later.
Li Yuan’s body gradually recovered. He also worked hard to adjust to this entirely new life and new family dynamic. After all, family was family; they were together, sharing ordinary days side by side, year after year. What difference did the details make?
And looking at it from an optimistic point of view, although Yan Yu was no longer human, she had broken free from the limits of a human lifespan, unlike Xue Ning who would pass away after a century.
Of course, her solution to mortality was different from his own. Li Yuan’s eternal youth without conditions; Yan Yu’s existence walked a tightrope, bound by Feng’er’s lingering regret and sustained by the ghost domain’s Yin energy. She was tethered by a special bond, one that required him and Sheng’er to maintain. Otherwise, given enough time, Yan Yu might lose her human emotions and become a whole new kind of ghost.
Fortunately, Li Yuan was eternally youthful, so he could keep this potential danger at bay without endless effort or struggle.
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
November arrived.
The rice fields produced a second round of meager harvests, soils growing ever more barren. However, thanks to the Purejade Merchant Association, cheaper grains and millet were shipped in from afar. With more farmland opened up in recent times, Gemhill’s situation managed to improve somewhat.
Where once only Silver Creek had an open food stall handing out porridge, now all twelve townships across Gemhill County had set up their own porridge stations. These charitable stalls served only those completely out of food.
Yan Mu was often found at one of these stalls, ladling out porridge to the endless stream of refugees. Watching people line up as far as the eye could see left him filled with sorrow and frustration. But what could he do?
Though a sixth rank martial artist held prestige here in Gemhill, he was nothing on the scale of the entire prefecture, province, or empire at large. What could he possibly change?
He couldn’t change much.
His compassion, his ache for all these suffering souls, might look like a joke...a well-meaning but powerless sentiment. And so he set aside the fire in his heart, focusing on what was right in front of him. If he could help those people who came for a meal, then he would do it wholeheartedly. He would fill each bowl to the brim and treat even the most downtrodden person with respect.
He never acted like he was handing out charity when meeting these people. Instead, he spoke to them in a normal, respectful tone. In fact, whenever he saw refugees with children or elderly among them, he would secretly place bedding and clothing in their dwellings, making sure they never knew who gave it.
With his abilities, doing all this was child’s play.
As he continued these good deeds, he felt an unexplainable sense of fulfillment. At times, he even had the urge to sell off his entire fortune to buy a huge stock of blankets and clothes to secretly give away, then purchase a massive supply of grain and sell it to the poor at far below market price.
But in truth, he didn’t have much money. While he could trade in blood gold for a fortune, he couldn’t risk selling it.
One day, after a few drinks, he shared these thoughts with Li Yuan, who quickly advised him against the idea. Yan Mu knew it wasn’t realistic and, with a sigh, gave up on it. Beyond giving out free porridge, he threw nearly all his energy into his cultivation.
The Holy Tree Temple offered three cultivation paths, the Evergreen Art, Cycle of Withering And Growth, and Return-Willow Technique. The members of the Clever Seed Garden and Farmstead Sect practiced the Evergreen Art, where planting flowers, crops, or farmland helped them advance in their cultivation.
Yan Mu, however, followed the Return-Willow Technique, which required a kind of carefree spirit...a lightness like a willow swaying in the breeze. With his mind weighed down by care and worry, it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to master the sixth rank portion of the cultivation technique.
Li Yuan refrained from advising him further, knowing his words would do no good. After all, he had known Yan Mu for years. Back when Yan Mu escorted that upright official to the capital, he’d been willing to risk his life. Now, trapped in an age of chaos yet unable to change things, it was not something a few gentle words could soothe.
That year, while the rice fields suffered their worst harvest in memory, the meat fields flourished like never before.
Stationed at the inner district’s meat fields was Fang Chengbao, the little brother of Fang Jianlong. This previous handsome young master, who carried a gem-studded blade with him, had long since shed that image. Over the past few years, he had transformed into a stubbly, rolled-sleeves, rolled-pants figure, looking more like a rugged farmhand than a noble.
He had given up every superficial luxury to pursue cultivation in earnest, and that cultivation had rewarded him. Now he was just one step away from seventh rank.
He currently stood beside the meat fields, which lay on the eastern edge of the inner district, right next to the black market ghost domain. Though the ghost domain had been steadily expanding, it didn’t cross into the meat fields. Like a well-defined border, the domain stopped sharply where the meat fields began.
It was late autumn, and lumps of flesh were sprouting all over the fields—ninth rank flesh around the edges and eighth rank in the center. This was nothing unusual in previous years, yet today, everything changed.
Fang Chengbao stared wide-eyed at the center of the meat fields, nearly blinded by a fiery red glow that pulsed like a beating heart. Even from a distance, the thick scent of blood wafted on the breeze, powerful enough that just a single breath made his own blood surge with excitement.
Rubbing his eyes in disbelief, he double-checked the sight until his calm composure finally broke. Overcome with excitement, he shouted, “Seventh rank flesh!”
“The meat fields have produced seventh rank flesh!”
Clamping down on his excitement, he rushed to report the news to the sect master. The refined, fastidious leader came in person, observed the meat fields for a long while, and finally confirmed that a fair amount of seventh rank flesh had truly sprouted.
Had he still been the deputy temple master of the Blood Blade Sect, he would have felt nothing but joy. But now, two years into his role as sect master, his view of the bigger picture had widened.
Laughing heartily, Yu Chaojin said, “A gift from Heaven itself, our chance to create more experts in the Blood Blade Sect!”
Though he wore a smile, a hint of heaviness lay beneath it. He knew the rice harvest had been terrible this year, and that the black market ghost domain had, just a few days before, expanded to encompass nearly all of Silver Creek.
It was as though the land belonged to the living, while the water belonged to the ghosts. Silver Creek connected to the Eternal Rest River, which eventually flowed into the mysterious Eastern Sea.
Yu Chaojin’s grin abruptly vanished, and Fang Chengbao’s smile also faded, so quickly it looked like all that excitement had been faked.
Glancing around to make sure no one else was near, Yu Chaojin suddenly asked, “Any word from your older brother?”
Fang Chengbao clenched his fists. “I stand on my own.” Realizing he might have come across as rude, he quickly added, “My respects to the sect master. My brother married into the Zhu Family, but they met with disaster. Since then, there’s been no sign of him.”
Yu Chaojin lifted a hand as though to pat his subordinate’s shoulder, but then grimaced...probably at the thought of dirt, and brushed at his own sleeves instead. “Your brother was our key link to the Sacred Fire Palace,” he said. He paused, then added in a soft voice, “Don’t let the Patriarch find out.”
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