Notes on Longevity

Chapter 70 No immortals are seen on Kunlun Mountain, but journeys have taken them to Penglai in the Eastern Sea.

"Ancestor, I want to go to Penglai."

In the twenty-third year of Wen Shang's reign, in the clear autumn, the emperor returned victorious.

Yu Yang returned to Zoumaguan with the emperor's triumphant army. For the past six months, Ping An had spent his days practicing martial arts at the foot of the mountain and wandering around with his senior brother. Every night, he would go up to the mountaintop, sit on the stone platform, and read scriptures or meditate by lantern light.

"Can your body handle this?" Still in front of that lantern, Yu Yang looked at Du Ping'an sitting opposite him in the night light, his expression somewhat worried.

"Much better, it doesn't feel as serious as you said." He looked at Yu Yang with anticipation in his eyes.

"Fine." Yu Yang shook his head and sighed, "If you want to leave, then leave. I knew I couldn't keep you."

Ping An looked at Yu Yang, feeling reluctant to part with him. But a lingering thought kept haunting him.

“When your master wrote to you, he wanted you to become Qingshui’s disciple and stay in the temple. He probably never imagined that you would also develop such an obsession with him.”

"There's no point in saying more. Since you want to go down the mountain, your health is too poor to travel far. You should stay in the temple for a few more years until I make some elixirs so you can take them with you in case anything goes wrong."

Yu Yang stood up and came to Ping An's side. He placed one hand on Ping An's head and his old voice rang out above him: "I have lived for more than three hundred years and have worked hard to cultivate Taoist magic and immortal techniques. Although I am far inferior to those immortals, I can still help you repair your meridians."

"Thank you, Ancestor." Ping An clearly felt a warm current flow from his head after the Ancestor placed his hand on his head, slowly spreading to every part of his body.

“You’re lucky, kid. I’ve seen people die from their meridians bursting after practicing the Dao, but you were only injured. If you can cultivate through the Dao, you might not need to search for those unseen immortals.”

"But Ancestor, you have cultivated for so many years. I heard from Senior Brother Yu Yan that you have extraordinary magical powers. Does that mean you are a deity?"

"I have only obtained the secret to immortality and practiced some Taoist arts; I am still far from becoming an immortal."

"Then how does one cultivate the Dao to become an immortal?"

Nobody knows.

"why?"

"Because no one has ever succeeded in cultivating it. Even Peng Zu of that time, without obtaining the art of immortality, lived for more than eight hundred years with just his physical body. With his level of understanding, he could have become an immortal. But he didn't. What can we mortals do? Without becoming an immortal, immortality is just a burden on life."

"Is immortality also a burden?"

"What you can see but cannot touch, what you know but cannot understand—this is the pain of immortality. If I had known this beforehand, why would I have pursued immortality?"

Autumn winds rise again atop the mountain. Time, like flowing water, always slips away quietly, welcoming winter and bidding farewell to spring. And then, as summer fades, yellow leaves fall along the road leading to Fuyang City outside Zouma Mountain. Even Zouma Mountain, known for its year-round spring-like climate, is experiencing its first truly visible autumn since the temple's founding.
"Junior brother."

Yu Yan's appearance had changed a lot. Although he was no longer as handsome as before, he seemed much more composed. With a rosy complexion, he walked briskly across the Taoist temple grounds where yellow leaves were falling. When he reached Ping An's door, he knocked on the tightly closed door.

"Senior brother."

The door opened from the inside, and a tall, muscular young man stepped in. He too wore a smile, but the melancholy in his eyes made Yu Yan feel uneasy. Especially his face, so different from usual; even with a smile, it appeared deeply sorrowful.

"Still reading?" Yu Yan asked awkwardly, looking at the handsome face that held both determination and sorrow.

"I just finished meditating." The young man not only looked sorrowful, but his words also revealed a gentle sadness. "Want to go for a walk with me?" Yu Yan gave a thumbs-up and pointed behind him.

The boy looked in the direction Yu Yan was pointing and realized that all the trees in Zoumaguan had turned yellow. They were blowing in the wind, and their branches and leaves broke free from his grasp and went with him.

Withered yellow leaves littered the ground. There were no lessons to be done at the temple today, nor was there any intention to sweep or clean. All the disciples gathered under the trees, looking up at the falling leaves with joy on their faces.

The boy followed Yu Yan past them. Looking at the Taoists' smiling faces, he unconsciously smiled along, but no matter how he smiled, a faint sadness always lingered in his expression.

Yu Yan, standing beside the boy, also watched them, their faces showing the same smiles. This was the first time in the more than twenty years since he came up the mountain that he had seen withered trees and scattered yellow leaves in Zoumaguan.

"Junior brother, what did the ancestor say to you on the mountaintop that night? You seem like a completely different person." Yu Yan asked as he walked with the boy along the forest path leading to the mountainside.

A smile appeared on the boy's lips, but the sadness in his eyes only intensified. He remembered the boy who had asked him on the mountaintop that day, "Child? Are you alright, child?"

"Safety?"

Yu Yang's gentle call woke Ping An, who had fainted from the pain of being unable to endure the magic he was using to heal his meridians. He slowly opened his eyes in Yu Yang's arms.

"Your eyes?" Yu Yang frowned when he saw Ping An's open eyes, and a rare tear welled up in his own eyes.

Ping An slowly stood up after leaving Yu Yang's embrace. He looked exhausted and said softly to Yu Yang, "Ancestor, I'm fine."

The gentle, slightly sorrowful voice caused Yu Yang a pang of heartache.

He knew there was no way he could be alright. How could he not know the feeling of magical repair and cleansing of his meridians? He was just putting on a brave face.

"Junior brother!"

A swaying motion pulled Ping An back from his memories of that day. He looked at Yu Yan, whose eyes were full of worry for him, and smiled, "It's alright, Senior Brother."

Ping An walked happily along the forest path, but when he raised his infinitely sorrowful face and looked at the yellowish scenery around him, he was thinking about something.

The two walked through the forest path halfway down the mountain. Just as they were about to continue down, they heard a bell ringing from the temple halfway down the mountain: "According to the time, the disciples on the mountainside should begin their morning prayers."

Ping An stared at the spot where the bell rang, her eyes filled with green. The scene, which had been one of withered leaves and yellowing trees, had suddenly transformed back into the appearance of spring.

The forest path they were on was slowly turning green. The fallen yellow leaves began to disappear. The bare branches quickly sprouted new buds, and soon, with a spring breeze coming down from the mountaintop, the buds grew and slowly turned into tender green leaves. They shone in the morning sunlight, and finally their light fell into Ping An's melancholy eyes.

As the light entered, a painting slowly unfolded in his eyes. The painting depicted an elderly man with a full head of white hair leading a ten-year-old child towards a sea.

Not far out at sea, three misty green mountains rise. On one of these mountains, a winding stone staircase winds its way up. On either side of the staircase stand towering trees, each branch and leaf the size of a palm, some even larger.

The broad leaves shimmered, swaying gently in the sea breeze, making the light somewhat dazzling. Ping An was momentarily blinded by the light. He closed his eyes, standing blankly on the stone steps, then suddenly turned to look at Yu Yan, who was dressed in a Taoist robe, and said:

"Senior brother, I want to go down the mountain."

(End of this chapter)