Chapter 618: The Map of the Land Approaching Immortality

The autumn rain drizzled. Yu Dilong felt that his master resembled a rascal who had come merely to seek favors.

The boy didn’t dare to enter the house. He squatted on the steps outside the threshold, gazing upward. Beneath the eaves, a dark green rain curtain fell in a pattering cacophony, splashing droplets onto his trousers. Yu Dilong sighed softly, suddenly missing the older sister who once carried a massive wooden sword case.

Hearing approaching footsteps, Yu Dilong turned around. The woman—uncertain whether to call her sister or aunt—held two small stools. She placed one beside him and sat on the other. Yu Dilong hesitated slightly before sitting down properly, maintaining a rigid posture, eyes fixed straight ahead.

Paying Nanwei, who was living here in “widowed solitude,” observed the boy’s stiff posture and softly asked, “What do you do?”

Yu Dilong thought carefully and shyly replied, “I am my master’s apprentice.”

Paying chuckled, “Could you possibly be your master’s master instead?”

Yu Dilong opened his mouth slightly, blushing.

Paying fell silent, watching the muddy courtyard alongside the boy, murmuring, “They should have paved the ground with stone slabs. The dozen pounds of flower soil I had specially dug from Yanwozi Ridge have been washed away like that.”

Yu Dilong listened to her muttering without feeling annoyed. Perhaps because he had been an orphan since childhood, he felt a strange warmth.

A voice came from behind them, “Time for dinner.”

At the small square table, Xu Fengnian had already set out the food and chopsticks. Paying Nanwei and Yu Dilong brought the stools inside, sitting opposite Xu Fengnian. The boy hesitated again and, without daring to sit at the table, simply took his bowl and sat on the threshold, continuing to watch the raindrops pummeling the mud. At this moment, a child who had dreamed since childhood of saving enough money to build a house resolved that if he ever built one, it would resemble this courtyard.

“You still remember to come back?”

“Mm.”

“What did you do outside? Did you unify the martial world, kill the emperor of Liyang, or flatten Beiman?”

“Not quite. Haven’t you heard the news?”

“What news could a commoner like me hear?”

“I fought Wang Xianzhi and barely survived. Then I went to the Wudi City in the East Sea and retrieved all the weapons. On my way back to Beiliang, I met the old patriarch of the Wu Clan Sword Tombs at Qingliang Mountain. I stayed less than a day before heading north to Liangzhou. Now I’m here, having dinner with you.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“I didn’t earn much money, though. The rice jar still holds the bag brought by Zhu Zhengli last time. You eat so little, yet I haven’t seen you grow thinner. Now comes the season to fatten up for winter. Take care. You can still wear old clothes when thin, but gaining weight means extra expenses.”

Bang! A loud sound startled Yu Dilong, who turned to see her slamming her chopsticks onto the table.

“The magistrate of Bishan County has already stopped your salary. I went to collect it at the beginning of the month, but they refused. They said you took an unexplained leave to relax at Wudang Mountain, and the governor of Yan Zhi Prefecture was furious, seemingly planning to dismiss you.”

“Try collecting it again.”

“Are you sure it won’t be a wasted trip?”

“If you can’t get it, forget it. My monthly salary isn’t even ten taels anyway.”

Bang!

This time, she slammed her bowl.

Yu Dilong suddenly felt like smiling.

Later, Xu Fengnian washed the bowls and dishes. To Yu Dilong’s surprise, his master didn’t linger in this small town after taking a free meal but left into the rainy night. The woman didn’t try to stop them. Before they left the house, she handed Yu Dilong a bamboo rain hat and a straw raincoat—not for Xu Fengnian, but for the boy. Yu Dilong hesitated, glancing at his master. Xu Fengnian simply smiled.

The hooves of their two horses struck the stone-paved alleyways. The heavy rain masked the sound, making it unnoticeable. Though Yu Dilong appeared frail, he had an unusually strong constitution. Wearing the rain hat and raincoat, he felt no burden, though the clothes didn’t fit, making him look rather comically mismatched. Looking back at the courtyard, Yu Dilong felt no attachment to the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion (Prince of Beiliang’s Mansion), nor did he consider it home. Yet he felt a strange fondness for this humble courtyard. A secret wish stirred in his heart: it would be nice if that woman were his mother.

Gathering his courage, Yu Dilong called out, “Master.”

Xu Fengnian slowed his horse, glancing slightly puzzled at the boy with large eyes.

Yu Dilong, thinking quickly, swallowed the words he had intended to say and instead asked, “Where are we going?”

“To Wudang Mountain,” Xu Fengnian replied calmly. “I need to stabilize my physical and spiritual strength in one of its sacred caves.”

Yu Dilong could discern the strength of Wang Sheng and Lü Yunchang’s auras. Having lived closely with his master, he had come to understand a secret: Xu Fengnian’s aura had been steadily weakening. Simply put, his martial cultivation was like water leaking from a bamboo basket. If not repaired soon, it would drain completely, possibly causing irreversible damage to the basket itself. This was why Chu Lushan insisted on providing five hundred cavalry to protect Xu Fengnian at Huaiyang Pass, why he fought to the death against Wang Xianzhi, killed Zhao Huangchao, reached the gates of Wudi City, and faced Wu Jian in different stages of his life. Xu Fengnian’s strength had been steadily declining. Otherwise, the old patriarch of the Wu Clan Sword Tombs wouldn’t have needed to go to such lengths to feign blocking Xu Fengnian’s path at the border of Youzhou and Hezhou.

Suddenly serious, Yu Dilong turned and called again, “Master.”

Xu Fengnian nodded, pulling his horse to a stop first on this quiet muddy path.

Yu Dilong’s eyes widened. About ten zhang away stood an unexpected visitor—a young woman in white, barefoot. By all logic, the heavy rain should have soaked her clothes, yet she floated a few feet above the ground, her robes fluttering. Behind her, white rainbows coalesced into a supreme, mysterious bottle-shaped figure. Her radiance resembled a full moon descending into the mortal world.

Yu Dilong immediately sensed danger. Though her aura lacked the fierce intensity of the Northern cavalry commander with his silkworm-shaped eyebrows, it was deeper and more enduring.

Xu Fengnian stared expressionlessly at this “opportunity-seeker,” the talented cultivator from the Nanhai Guanyin Sect who had followed him all the way. She had first stolen a hundred swords at Youyan Villa on the lake, then watched from the sidelines during the battle outside Shenwu City, hoping to take advantage of the chaos. Unfortunately, when Han Shengxuan suddenly died by borrowing a sword from Sui Xiegǔ, she failed to absorb the dispersed energy from his death. She vanished temporarily but started absorbing the energy Xu Fengnian had been losing after he defeated Wang Xianzhi. If it came to “fattening up,” no glutton in the world could rival this woman nicknamed “Charcoal Girl.” However, Xu Fengnian had once made a pact with the old woman of the Nanhai Guanyin Sect, so he hadn’t actively stopped her “theft.” Everyone in the world has their own karma and fortune. Xu Fengnian didn’t feel the need to monopolize the martial world’s energy. Whether it was this strange girl, like Wang Sheng, who was born with a natural sword embryo becoming a sword immortal, or Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, who surpassed all others in Dao and devilry, what did it matter to him?

After absorbing Xu Fengnian’s lost energy, the Charcoal Girl thrived even more than she had at Youyan Villa. Now appearing before Xu Fengnian, she smirked condescendingly and swept her hand in front of her.

It was as if an immortal had painted a magnificent scroll.

Before her appeared countless vivid figures: the mighty old man Wang Xianzhi from the East Sea, Deng Ta’a leading a donkey with a peach branch, the hesitant strategist Cao Changqing from Xichu, Han Shengxuan with red silk sleeves fluttering, a spear-wielding man resembling Qing Niao, Li Chungan walking with swords behind his back…

This scroll depicted around forty figures, all great heroes of the martial world over the past century.

The dim ones were those who had died. The shining ones were still alive.

Xu Fengnian recognized most of them. After the scroll unfurled, he himself was the second figure, with Tuoba Pusa in third place. The deceased remained fixed, but the living figures’ positions began shifting mysteriously. Most notably, Tuoba Pusa replaced Xu Fengnian as the second figure on the left. Huang Sanjia suddenly appeared on the scroll, his colors vivid yet ominous, differing from the black-and-white hues of the others.

After displaying her skill, the Charcoal Girl smiled and said, “This is our Guanyin Sect’s treasured artifact. It can subdue demons and summon immortals. My master—well, the one defeated by Li Chungan—was supposed to shine brightly with this during the Spring and Autumn Period.”

Xu Fengnian replied calmly, “I know. It’s the Land Immortal Chart.”

The Charcoal Girl chuckled, “Wow, Xu Fengnian, you even know that?”

Xu Fengnian remained silent.

The mysterious Charcoal Girl grinned, pointing at the top figure on the scroll, “Xu Fengnian, aren’t you curious who this person is?”

Xu Fengnian shook his head.

The white-robed woman narrowed her eyes and continued, “One thing overcomes another. The nameless Daoist sealed Gao Shulü, the Invincibleman of the world. The Celestial Master Sect of Longhu Mountain suppressed the demon Liu Songtao from Zhulu Mountain. Wang Xianzhi restrained Li Chungan, and you defeated Wang Xianzhi. So, aren’t you curious who will overcome you next?”

Xu Fengnian frowned slightly.

The Charcoal Girl was slightly surprised. As she spoke, a fresh new portrait emerged on the scroll. Glancing at Yu Dilong, she fixed her gaze back on Xu Fengnian, “Xu Fengnian, aren’t you the least bit curious about who the reincarnations of Master Lü—Qi Xuanzhen and Hong Xixiang—were meant to suppress?”

Xu Fengnian looked toward the topmost portrait. Unlike the others, this figure was blurry. One could faintly see a scholar wearing Confucian robes, sitting cross-legged, gazing down at a bowl of water placed before him. The bowl was half full, the water rippling slightly.

The Charcoal Girl, who had been performing a monologue, asked tirelessly, “Xu Fengnian, I ask you, why has it been so difficult for a Confucian Sage to emerge among the three great schools over the past century? Even Xu Xuanjing barely reached that realm for half an hour, and Huang Longshi was the same. Even Cao Changqing was a dying man.”

Xu Fengnian fell into deep thought.

The Charcoal Girl, receiving no response, acted like a scorned lover and stomped her foot, complaining, “Xu Fengnian, will answering me kill you?!”

Xu Fengnian only sneered coldly, a surge of uncontrollable murderous intent rising in his heart.

Instinct told him—if he answered this woman, unless he was at his peak strength, he really might die!