Notes on Longevity

Chapter 67 There are countless methods in the world, not limited to scriptures.

A gentle autumn breeze stirred, and the night was cool as water. Ping An sat in his room, recalling what his Uncle-Master Qing Shui had said about their master earlier that day.

Sitting opposite him was Yu Yan, who rested his chin on his hand and quietly watched Ping An. He didn't know what the Old Ancestor Yu Yang and his master had said to Ping An. Ever since Ping An came down from the mountain in the evening, he had been sitting there without saying a word.

Suddenly, Ping An raised his head, his handsome face coming into Yu Yan's view. He noticed something in Ping An's slightly worried eyes and asked, "Junior brother, what's wrong?"

"Senior brother, do you think our ancestor is a deity?"

Ping An's words stumped him. He didn't know what to say.

They are said to be immortals, but immortals live forever. However, while the ancestor has the art of longevity, he does not have the method to remain young.

They said no, but the ancestor's magical power was boundless. More than a decade ago, a fox demon wreaked havoc, causing chaos throughout the land and strange celestial phenomena. In the end, the emperor had no choice but to personally go up the mountain to invite the ancestor to descend and subdue the demon, restoring order to the heavens.

That's hard to say.

Seeing Yu Yan remain silent, Ping An didn't press the matter further. He asked, "My master and I went west to Kunlun, and although we had some extraordinary encounters, we didn't meet any immortals. In that case, do you think there are immortals in Penglai as well?"

“Kunlun and Penglai are both sacred mountains, though no one has ever seen them. But judging from your circumstances, they certainly exist,” Yu Yan said after a moment’s thought.

Actually, he couldn't say for sure, because the Old Ancestor of Yuyang had also visited these two immortal mountains, but the result was the same as that of Ping An and the others. Although they had different circumstances, they did not see any immortals.

“Senior brother, I want to try going to Kunlun again.” Ping An’s eyes suddenly became firm, as if he had made up his mind.

“You should know how treacherous the Kunlun Mountains are. Your current physical condition is not suitable for such a dangerous place,” Yu Yan advised.

Since Ping An injured his meridians last time, he has not only been unable to continue his cultivation path, but has also developed a chronic illness. For the past two years, Ping An has been taking medicine every day without any improvement, and he really doesn't want Ping An to take any more risks.

But Ping An smiled and said, "It's alright, senior brother. We'll find a way out when we're in a life-or-death situation!"

Yu Yan understood Ping An's personality quite well. Although he was quiet on weekdays, he was actually quite lively inside, but he never showed it. So stubbornness was a unique trait of his.

"You should go talk to your master or the patriarch about this." Seeing Ping An's persistence, Yu Yan had no choice but to bring up these two people, hoping to make Ping An back down: "If they agree, I can go with you."

"really?"

"really!"

"You shouldn't think about this anymore. Your body is so weak. If something happens to you on the road, and I go with your master one day, what am I supposed to tell him? That you were sick and I told you to continue your quest for immortality, and then something happened on the way?"

In the room, Shimizu sat on the bed, holding a book, looking at Anpei with a frown, both concerned and helpless.

“I practice martial arts with my fellow disciples at the temple every day, and my health is noticeably better than before,” Ping An replied.

After a period of recuperation, he continued to practice breathing exercises every day while sitting on the edge of the cliff; in the afternoons, he would practice swordsmanship and boxing with his fellow disciples. In the past two years, he had practiced all the martial arts that were not too strenuous for him to handle, including swords, spears, and staffs.

Although he was ill, he was in no way inferior to his senior brothers.

They had all seen this clearly, but he still disagreed, continuing to evade the issue: "You know how dangerous Kunlun Mountain is. Leaving aside whether there are immortals up there, even if there are, how will you meet them? Will they even see you?"

"In short, don't bring this up again."

Shimizu's last words were firm in their tone; they were the harshest thing he had said to Ping An since Ping An arrived at Zoumaguan.

"Let's go, junior brother." Seeing that their master was a little angry, Yu Yan quickly pulled Ping An's arm and walked outside.

When the two came outside, Yu Yan put her hands on Ping An's shoulders and said, "Junior brother, you should stay on the mountain. Master told me before that with your scripture foundation, you can become a high-level master in ten years at most. Besides, your body is really not suitable for you to go out and travel."

Ping An remained persistent, bowing towards Qing Shui's room and saying, "Uncle-Master, Kunlun Mountain is dangerous, so I'll go to Penglai instead." But as soon as Ping An finished speaking, Qing Shui's door closed by itself. He watched this scene with mixed feelings in his heart. Seeing this, Yu Yan had no choice but to pull Ping An away and return to the room.

“Junior brother, why be so obsessed?” Yu Yan looked at Ping An helplessly.

"I want to go see the immortal on behalf of my master." Ping An had never believed that his master might be dead, but two years had passed. If his master were still alive, he would have come to visit long ago.

Yu Yan was taken aback by these words. Looking at the distraught Ping An, he felt a pang of sympathy himself. Ever since he first met Ping An, he had sent people to search outside Fuyang City, but they had found nothing within a radius of dozens of miles. Although he had never mentioned this to Ping An, how could Ping An not understand?

Ping An said, "My master is devoted to seeking immortality and enlightenment, and I don't want him to leave like this."

“But your health…” Yu Yan stared at Ping An, wanting to say that Ping An’s health really wasn’t suitable for traveling far anymore, otherwise he really wouldn’t be able to hold on.

Ping An replied, "My body is fine. I've improved a lot in the past two years by practicing martial arts with my senior brothers."

"But Master won't let you go down the mountain."

"I'll go find the ancestor."

Yu Yan remained silent. Looking at Ping An's resolute expression, he felt helpless and could only shake his head, giving up and no longer trying to persuade her.

As night deepened, Zoumaguan extinguished its lights, sinking into darkness along with the mountains and forests. However, a light shone on a small mountain path, as people slowly made their way towards the summit.

The autumn wind was biting cold in the dead of night. Ping An was dressed in a blue Taoist robe, carrying a bright red lantern in one hand and a whisk in the other. The whisk rested on his shoulder as he bent his arm.

"Ancestor, your disciple Ping An requests an audience." Ping An arrived at the mountaintop, placed the lantern in his hand at his feet, and stood tall and straight beside the empty stone platform in front of him.

After a long while, the autumn wind blew even stronger, lifting his neatly tied Taoist bun and causing it to flutter in the air. His wide Taoist sleeves also billowed in the wind, like a kite about to take flight.

The autumn wind stopped, and a green leaf fell from the sky, landing right in front of him. He reached out to catch it, but just as the leaf was about to land on his hand, it suddenly turned into a cloud of white mist, enveloping Ping An within it.

"Ancestor."

"Want to go down the mountain?"

"Though the master is gone, the disciple remains in the pursuit of immortality and enlightenment."

"The Daoist canon contains three thousand scriptures and also contains Daoist teachings, so why not leave them on the mountain?"

"Because Master wanted to see an immortal with his own eyes."

"If your master wants to see you, then why did you go down the mountain?"

"Can immortals be believed?"

"Why?"

"I want to see it too."

A thick white fog blanketed the area, obscuring everything. One man, holding a whisk and dressed in a Taoist robe, stood facing another, the two sitting cross-legged, heads bowed and eyes closed, speaking.

"There are countless ways in the world, not limited to scriptures. If you have an unfulfilled wish, then go. If you fail to meet the immortals, you can return."

"Go!"

He waved his hand in the white mist, and Ping An felt a gust of wind rise in front of him, making it impossible for him to open his eyes.
"Master."

(End of this chapter)