Chapter 530: Immortals

Dao Maguan was particularly cold this spring, more so than usual. Though it hadn’t reached the exaggerated point of freezing the young to death, many elderly and lonely villagers near the pass who had barely survived the harsh winter failed to endure this early-spring chill, which the common folk called the “Gates of Hell.” These quiet deaths stirred no ripples; after all, they hadn’t died amidst war and chaos, but peacefully in their own beds. Who would care to attend to them? Only some retired old soldiers were given rudimentary burial arrangements by the authorities, a sign of a peaceful end in old age. Compared to the situation in Liyang, this was already a great fortune.

Two riders arrived at Dao Maguan, pausing briefly before crossing the pass. With the lingering festive atmosphere of the Lantern Festival, the market within the pass remained lively. Children were fixated on tricks like watching an old crow play chess. Xu Fengnian, covered in dust from his journey, chewed on a large flatbread as he led his horse. His sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar chubby child among the crowd. He approached and gently kicked the boy’s bottom. The child, too engrossed in the game, didn’t even turn his head as he swatted the thing poking his rear. On the third try, the chubby boy turned angrily, ready to curse, but upon seeing a handsome young nobleman holding a horse and wearing a sword, he froze. After a moment, he finally recognized the man who had once gifted him a meat bun. He quickly stood up and awkwardly performed a bow, as taught by his private tutor.

Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, “Where’s You Song? Isn’t he playing with you today?”

The chubby boy looked around and chuckled, “He was just here a moment ago. Songzi came to the market with his mother to buy some fabric scraps. By now, he’s probably been dragged away by his ear.”

Xu Fengnian shook his head, “No need to call him. I have to leave the pass immediately. When you see You Song, just tell him I came by.”

Then Xu noticed the boy swallowing hard, eyeing the half-eaten flatbread in his hand. Xu smiled and said, “If you don’t mind that I’ve taken a bite, you can have it.”

The chubby boy smiled shyly and shook his head vigorously, though his eyes kept darting to the two swords at the young nobleman’s waist, clearly envious. Xu handed the boy the flatbread, who began tearing into it while mumbling, “Mister, my dad said it’s really hard to leave the pass these days. There are a lot of soldiers and officers at the Da Hulukou outside Dao Maguan. Hardly anyone’s been allowed in during the New Year.”

Xu Fengnian smiled, “I have some connections with the officials here, so I’m not worried.”

The chubby boy grinned foolishly, “I knew it! You must be someone really important. Songzi always says so at school, but no one believes him. Only I and Songzi believe you’re a real martial hero wandering the jianghu.”

Xu Fengnian ruffled the boy’s head and turned to leave. Behind him, the chubby boy immediately began boasting to his playmates about how familiar he was with the nobleman who had both a horse and swords. Most of the children who had studied at the private school with him hadn’t believed him or Zhao Yousong before, but now that they had seen the boy rewarded with half a flatbread, the friendship couldn’t be fake. The chubby boy’s “status in the jianghu” instantly soared several levels higher.

The Northern Liang border army had followed the tradition of holding martial arts inspections and military reviews for nearly twenty years—small reviews every year and grand reviews every three years. However, last year’s grand review had been postponed without explanation to this year, and it was set for early spring, a time that had never been done before. Breaking two established rules, and with the scale of the review unusually large, many border officers and soldiers sensed an unusual atmosphere.

Dao Maguan was a small border pass, but it was filled with many powerful figures. Zhou Xian, the deputy commander, and Han Tao, who held the rank of a decorated officer, were rivals who needed to be carefully appeased when entering or leaving the pass, especially when valuable goods were involved. At this moment, the local power brokers Zhou Xian and Han Tao stood respectfully on the city wall, barely daring to breathe. Not only were they minor local forces, but even a dragon would have to coil up and lie low. Standing beside them were two true figures capable of deciding life and death with a single word—Shi Qiangao, the deputy general of Youzhou, and Li Guiweng, the assistant governor of Youzhou, both high-ranking officials of the third grade.

At this moment, the old rivals Han Tao and Zhou Xian had no thoughts of undermining each other and instead gritted their teeth and worked together, trying to get through this mission. They didn’t have the resources to know the truth, only receiving word that an important person was leaving the pass.

Zhou Ziran, the son of the deputy commander, had also joined the border army and was allowed to stand on the city wall to wait, though far from the two high-ranking officials from Youzhou. This young man, once nearly responsible for the destruction of the Yulong Sect, carefully glanced at Shi Qiangao’s bright armor and Li Guiweng’s official robe embroidered with a peacock pattern, his eyes filled with both reverence and burning ambition. Shi Qiangao was an old general from the Spring and Autumn period, still vigorous in his old age. He had been the most likely candidate to become the general of Youzhou, but was beaten to the position by Huangfu Cheng, who had only been a junior commander at the time. Much of the anxiety in Dao Maguan stemmed from this, as they feared Shi Qiangao might take out his anger on them.

Li Guiweng, however, was as amiable as the rumors suggested, walking slightly behind Shi Qiangao as they ascended the city wall and exchanging a few warm words with Zhou Xian and his son Zhou Ziran.

Zhou Ziran, for reasons unknown, noticed that even the usually contrasting personalities of General Shi and Assistant Governor Li seemed somewhat nervous. This grand military review at the Hulukou had already drawn in the Northern Liang commander-in-chief Chu Luxian, and the infantry commander Yan Wenluan and cavalry commander Yuan Zuozong had already arrived outside the pass. The newly promoted Northern Liang general Gu Dazu, along with the Lianzhou general and two deputies who were not part of the border army, had already departed north on the third and fourth days of the first lunar month. Even the Northern Liang economic commissioner Li Gongde had arrived. In short, almost all the major Northern Liang figures had reached the Hulukou around the Lantern Festival. Zhou Ziran couldn’t guess who could make Shi and Li so cautious. The newly promoted Youzhou general Huangfu Cheng, though holding a slightly higher rank than them, probably didn’t have such authority. Naturally, Shi Qiangao and Li Guiweng were waiting for the Crown Prince.

Xu Fengnian could have entered Dao Maguan earlier, but was stopped by a wandering Taoist priest who insisted on reading his fortune through handwriting, divination, and palmistry, promising not only to charge nothing if he got it wrong, but even to pay the young nobleman instead. Xu Fengnian glanced at Xu Yanbing, who unusually did not immediately respond. Xu Fengnian found this intriguing—someone who could make Xu Yanbing unsure of their strength was either truly without internal energy, a master of disguise at the Tianxiang level, or even a terrestrial immortal.

What a high-stakes gamble! Xu Fengnian smiled and followed the old Taoist priest, who had a shifty, rat-like appearance, to a roadside stall and sat down. He jokingly said, “Master Taoist, with that face of yours, it’s hard to convince anyone that you’re a true cultivator.”

The old priest sighed, “It’s all thanks to my parents for giving me this face. I’m truly starving and freezing, so I have no choice but to set up this dangerous livelihood of fortune-telling. The heavenly secrets cannot be revealed, but if I don’t earn money, I’ll starve to death. I’m literally risking my life for a living—it’s all just bitter fate.”

Xu Fengnian was about to speak when the priest, as if reading his mind, sighed, “A single leak in the heavenly mechanism allows the cycle to continue. In my opinion, that ‘one’ is the self. So, young master, don’t ask me why I can tell fortunes but not my own.”

Xu Fengnian laughed, “Master Taoist, your skill in reading people’s expressions is quite impressive.”

The self-proclaimed “Four Directions” Taoist priest glared, “It’s not about reading expressions—it’s about calculating your thoughts. I calculate the heavens, the earth, and the hearts of men. Unlike those so-called immortals from the great Taoist sects, I don’t calculate the heavens and earth—I calculate the hearts of men.”

Xu Fengnian was surprised and smiled, “Then I must take this opportunity to ask you, Master Taoist, about the Dao. The Buddha cannot be spoken of, the Dao cannot be described—how then can ordinary people attain enlightenment and the Dao?”

The old Taoist priest sat across from Xu Fengnian at the stall, stroking his beard and smiling, “I won’t speak in vague, clouded words. I’ll just share the truths I’ve discovered through my own journey. Young master, you act without petty concerns in small matters and remain calm and composed in great ones. I believe you can sit quietly and listen to what I have to say.”

Xu Fengnian nodded, “Alright.”

He turned to Xu Yanbing and said, “Go buy a steamer of small buns.”

The old Taoist priest nodded with satisfaction—it was unclear whether he was happy about the steamer of buns or that the young nobleman had finally fallen into his trap. When Xu Yanbing silently turned away, the old priest straightened his robe and slowly said, “Cultivating the Dao is like climbing a mountain—those who travel ninety miles have only completed half the journey. The more you go, the harder it becomes. The Longhu Mountains are obsessed with reaching the summit, as if each cycle without a flying immortal disgraces their ancestors. That’s not necessarily wrong, but the Wudang Mountains do not cultivate such a Dao. Somehow, people began to focus only on longevity when cultivating the Dao—how is that different from officials hoping for the rank of ‘First Grade’? Cultivating the Dao is like studying books. When a young noble reads those romantic tales of scholars and beauties, it’s all about meeting and recognizing each other. If they’re lucky, they fall in love and grow old together. If not, they part in hatred. To put it more bluntly, it’s just the trivial matter of going from under the bed to on the bed. If you think even bigger, a person’s entire life is no different—it’s just birth and death. Thinking like that, life becomes quite dull. What do you think, young master?”

Xu Fengnian smiled and nodded, “I agree deeply.”

The old Taoist priest continued, “In my opinion, a person is born into this world, and the essence of life is simply ‘walking.’ You walk through mountains, rivers, the jianghu, and all directions. Where you end up isn’t important—it’s the interesting people and boring events you encounter along the way. Whether you suffer or enjoy life, it’s all part of a hundred years of life. If you come across a beautiful scene, you can stop and admire it. When you have the strength, you continue. If you don’t feel like moving, then don’t. People say, ‘A gentle paradise is a hero’s grave,’ but those are just sour grapes from those who can’t get what they want. That’s why people say, ‘Rather be mandarin ducks than immortals.’ In my lifetime, I’ve wandered all over the world, for many years. Those who seek immortality envy those who spend a day in the mountains while a thousand years pass in the world, but I prefer to walk steadily through the bustling red dust. I’m not afraid of suddenly dying on the road one day. If you fear death for the sake of immortality, how can you truly attain immortality? In my lifetime, I’ve entered more than six hundred Daoist temples, both big and small, and visited over three hundred Buddhist monks to learn about Buddhist principles.”

Seeing that Xu Fengnian remained silent, the old priest coughed and awkwardly reminded him, “Young master, this is the part where you should nod in agreement to keep the conversation natural.”

Xu Fengnian smiled, “I was busy calculating how old Master Taoist must be to have visited six hundred temples and three hundred monasteries.”

The old priest shook his head and sighed, “I’ve long forgotten my age. I only remember marrying three women.”

Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but twitch his lips slightly. At this moment, Xu Yanbing returned with a steamer of buns and placed it on the table. The old priest picked up a steaming hot bun, blew on it a few times, and swallowed it whole, his face filled with delight. He wiped the oil from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve and said, “Spring freezes the bones, autumn freezes the flesh. Even if a young man’s blood is strong and he fears no cold, the days are still unbearably long.”

Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, “Master Taoist, can you tell me who I’m going to meet?”

The old priest was about to grab the second meat bun when he casually said, “The old woman who draws ashes.”

Xu Yanbing’s breath stilled.

The old priest remained unperturbed and smiled softly, “Wandering the jianghu, it’s good to have many skills. I know a little about everything, and I know this thanks to my many years—it’s nothing special.”

Xu Fengnian said calmly, “I know who Master Taoist is. But the saying goes, ‘A true master doesn’t reveal himself; one who reveals himself isn’t a true master.’ Master Taoist, you seem to be breaking the rules. Are you here to avenge your Northern Yan Empress, taking my head to repay Xu Huainan and Fifth He?”

The old priest smiled, “Do you really know who I am?”

Xu Fengnian frowned, “I’m a bit confused. I heard that Li Dangxin of the Liang Chan Temple at Daode Sect has already pulled down floating mountains to crush the sword-bearing Qilin Zhenren.”

The old priest laughed heartily, lightly flicked his left shoulder, and with his right hand, “floated” out a young Taoist priest, about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, carrying a long sword, who bowed to Xu Fengnian.

The old priest flicked his other hand, and on the left, another aged Taoist “floated” out, exuding the aura of a true immortal, holding a whisk in one hand and stroking his beard with the other, smiling gently.

This Qilin Zhenren had been killed by Tuoba Pusa after crossing the river.

The old Taoist priest, still sitting on the stool, clapped his hands, and from in front of him “ran out” a young Taoist boy, the same child who had appeared beside Xu Huainan, the Northern Court King. The old priest held a bun in one hand and stroked the little Taoist’s head, saying, “Xu Fengnian, we’ve already met for the second time.”

The scene was eerie, yet the passersby on the street remained completely unaware.

The old priest swallowed the bun, clapped his hands in delight, and said, “The three Northern Yan national masters—Li Dangxin, Tuoba Pusa, and Yijie Liu—were each slain by Li Dangxin, Tuoba Pusa, and Yijie Liu, respectively. Yet they are not truly dead, a secret not to be shared with outsiders. Cutting the three poisons and removing the nine worms—sages speak vaguely of it, and people are lost in confusion, not knowing why. I have wandered the world, secretly believing it to be the emotions, reason, and desires of past, present, and future lives. These three Qilin Zhenren of the Daode Sect are me, yet not me. They are definitely me. They are busy, I am idle—so idle that I’ve wandered the Northern Yan and Liyang for three jiazi cycles, so idle that I’ve seen three married women slowly age from their youth to old age, so idle that I’ve even met the Fourth Lu Zu.”

Xu Fengnian seemed at a loss for words and reached out to grab a bun to “calm himself,” but the young national master playing by his knee slapped it away, causing a burning pain on the back of his hand. Xu Fengnian was startled and quickly waved his hand to signal Xu Yanbing, who was already brimming with killing intent, not to act.

The old priest tapped the little Qilin Zhenren’s head, bent down, picked up the bun, and handed it to the young prince.

Xu Fengnian extended his left hand to take the bun, not a tremble in sight.

Yuan Qingshan said solemnly, “I am a nameless disciple of the Daode Sect, and I ask the young prince for a single copper coin.”

Xu Fengnian gripped the bun, unmoving.

The old Taoist priest smiled, “The young prince can answer after tasting the bun.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Xu Fengnian imitated the old priest and swallowed the bun in one bite, then slapped the copper coin onto the table.

The old priest picked up the copper coin, flicked his fingers, and the coin flew far away, as if vanishing into the distance. Standing up, the three Qilin national masters “merged” into Yuan’s body. Before leaving, the ragged old Taoist left four golden words:

“Young prince, visit Wudang Mountain more often—it will do you no harm.”

“Xu Longxiang was born with a death sentence, but before I ascend, I will leave him a sliver of hope—just a sliver.”

“The True Martial was once a celestial being. Why did he come to the mortal world? Underestimating Wang Xianzhi, who will soon join the ranks of immortals, will cost you your life.”

“After Li Yufu used up all his merits and blessings to help someone ascend, he cut down all the celestial anglers in the clouds, and from then on, no one could ascend again. Mortals do mortal things in the mortal world—how wondrous it is. I, Yuan Qingshan, am far inferior to Li Yufu of Wudang!”