Notes on Longevity

Chapter 108 Immortals in Dreams, Peaceful Night Martial Arts

"Where did you meet Master Ping'an?" In the kitchen, the old woman added water to the iron pot while looking at Yang Shouren, who was squatting next to the bellows and tending the fire, and asked.

"It was in the dilapidated temple where I met Daoist Qingxuanzi before," Yang Shouren said softly as he listlessly added firewood to the fire pit.

"No wonder. I thought something had happened when I saw you hadn't returned this morning," the old woman said, clapping her hands as she put the wooden lid on the iron pot.

"Yesterday, after sending Ziyu into the city, Fu-ge and I were actually supposed to arrive that evening. But Fu-ge said he wanted to stay in the capital for a while, so we stayed in the dilapidated temple that night. In the middle of the night, Fu-ge woke me up and said he dreamed of immortals. I thought his silly habit had flared up again, so I ignored him. But this morning, no matter what I said, he wouldn't leave and even cleaned the dilapidated temple."

Yang Shouren recounted the day's events to the old woman. The old woman frowned upon hearing this.

"Zifu saw an immortal in his dream, and he even told him that Master Ping'an would arrive today?" If someone else had said this, she wouldn't have believed it, but coming from Zifu, she had no choice but to believe it. After all, someone born with a mental illness shouldn't lie, unless someone taught him to.

But Yang Zifu had always stayed with Yang Shouren, so it was unlikely that he was instigated by someone else. Could it really be that he was entrusted by a deity?
Yang Shouren sighed helplessly, "Yes, but the key is that we did indeed meet Master Ping An."

"Do you know where Master Ping An came from?" The old woman thought for a moment and felt a headache coming on. She just couldn't believe that there were immortals in this world.

"They came from Zoumaguan, saying they were going to Penglai Mountain to seek immortals," Yang Shouren answered truthfully.

In fact, like the old woman, he didn't believe in any immortals in this world.

"Looking for immortals?" The old woman frowned upon hearing this and asked Yang Shouren, "Are there really immortals in this world?"

Yang Shouren shook his head, indicating that he didn't know either.

-

Inside the room, Yang Zifu sat opposite Ping An. He looked at Ping An with a simple, honest expression, seemingly lost in thought, but unsure how to bring it up.

"Brother Fu, why are you looking at me like that? Is there something wrong with me?" Ping An seemed a little flustered in the face of Yang Zifu's gaze.

“No,” Yang Zifu shook his head. “Last night I dreamed of a deity. He told me that you would be at the temple at noon today, and then told me to wait for you. I didn’t expect that you would actually come. It’s just that Hanhan doesn’t believe me.”

Yang Zifu said, sounding very aggrieved.

"Immortal?" Ping An murmured, somewhat puzzled, "What immortal?"

But when he thought about how Yan Yu had told him to go to the temple when he left earlier that day, saying that the person he was looking for was waiting for him there, Ping An realized that Yan Yu was referring to him. Ping An had initially thought he was talking about his master.

"By the way, how did you know that the immortal in your dream was talking about me?" Although Ping An had already realized that it was Yan Yu who had sent him the dream, he was curious about how Yang Zifu was so sure that Yan Yu was talking about him.

“I’ve seen you in my dream, so I recognize you,” Yang Zifu answered truthfully.

"Seen it in a dream?" Ping An thought for a moment, recalling a type of spell he had also learned. However, this type of spell was extremely mentally taxing, and since his cultivation went awry, he had basically been unable to use it. He only knew some simple ones, such as fire manipulation and water control. Anything slightly more difficult was very hard to use.

"Master Ping An, I'm sorry to trouble you tonight, I've cooked some noodles." Yang Shouren carried a wooden tray and followed the old woman into the house.

The old woman placed three bowls of noodles in front of the two men, then took the wooden tray and let Yang Shouren carry the last bowl of noodles to the square table himself.

"Thank you, Young Master Yang," Ping An said, rising to bow.

"You're too kind. When Brother Fu was seriously ill, if it weren't for your master, Brother Fu might have..." Yang Shouren said with some reluctance. Ping An glanced at Yang Zifu, who was blowing on the steaming noodles and preparing to eat them heartily, and understood what he meant.

"I already told you what happened on the way. I was just too late that night, but luckily you had already been rescued by others."

Yang Shouren blew on his noodles and started eating. But Ping An had little appetite. On the way here, Yang Shouren had told him everything that had happened after his master was rescued.

Those words kept replaying in his mind, and he didn't eat a single bite of noodles. Yang Zifu, on the other hand, felt unsatisfied after finishing his own meal, and his eyes were shining as he stared at the bowl in front of Ping An.

Ping An was thinking, and he also felt Yang Zifu's burning gaze. He smiled and pushed the noodles in front of him towards Yang Zifu. Yang Zifu grinned and was about to pick up the noodles when Yang Shouren gently tapped his hand with his chopsticks, "This is the Taoist priest's. If it's not enough, I'll make more."

Yang Zifu looked at Yang Shouren, who was frowning, and placed his hands on the table and floor with a wronged expression, while he lowered his head and fiddled with his fingers.

Seeing this, Ping An said to Yang Shouren, "Young Master Yang, Ping An isn't hungry, so let Brother Fu eat. Otherwise it would be a waste."

Upon hearing Ping An's voice, Yang Zifu raised his head again. He looked at Yang Shouren with a pitiful expression, his eyes seeming to say, "I still want to eat."

Yang Shouren glanced at Ping An, then looked at Yang Zifu, nodded and smiled, "Eat."

Then he turned to Ping An and said, "If you get hungry at night, just tell me and I'll make you something."

"Thank you, Young Master Yang," Ping An said.

After dinner, Yang Shouren brought Ping An to the room. He pointed to one of the two wooden beds and said, "I'm sorry to trouble you tonight, Daoist Master. Please sleep in my bed."

"No need, Young Master Yang."

Ping An saw that there were only two beds and was about to refuse without thinking. But Yang Shouren said, "It's alright, Daoist Master. I need to practice my skills tonight. You can sleep here."

After Yang Shouren finished speaking, he turned around and left to clear the dishes from the table.

Yang Zifu walked in from outside at this time, lay down on the bed without taking off his shoes, and quickly fell asleep.

Ping An looked at the sleeping Yang Zifu and heard his snoring, smiled slightly, and then lay down on the bed as well.

However, unlike Yang Zifu, he didn't fall asleep quickly. On the contrary, he couldn't fall asleep at all, tossing and turning in bed, unable to drift off.

His mind was filled with images of his travels with his master and the words his master had spoken to him.

Night had fallen, and all the lights inside the house were out, except for those still lit in the fenced yard.

Yang Shouren practiced martial arts by the lamplight, under the moonlight, and in the cool autumn night breeze.

It includes fist techniques, leg techniques, and even swordplay.

Ping An, dressed in a Taoist robe, sat on the door sill and watched Yang Shouren practice until the second watch of the night.

(End of this chapter)