Cultivation of immortality begins with an eighty-year-old eunuch.

Imperial Horse Stables.

Chen Fan stood outside the door, not in a hurry to go in.

The paint on the lintel was peeling, and the stone steps in front of the door were covered with moss. The wooden door that he had pushed open countless times now looked shorter and older than he remembered.

He reached out and pushed the door open.

Squeak!

A familiar sound.

There was a pile of chopped firewood in the yard, and wisps of smoke drifted from the direction of the kitchen.

Chen Fan followed the smell of smoke.

He stopped in his tracks as soon as he reached the kitchen door.

A figure was squatting in the stable, holding hay in his hand, feeding the horses while talking in a low voice. The man was dressed in a faded eunuch's robe, his back was slightly hunched, but his movements were much more steady than when he was young.

It's a small stool.

No, now we should call him Grandpa Deng.

But in Chen Fan's eyes, he was still that little eunuch who followed behind him timidly and called him "godfather".

The little stool seemed to sense something and slowly turned its head.

Eyes facing each other.

The fodder in Xiaodengzi's hand fell to the ground.

He stared blankly at the figure at the door, his lips trembling a few times, his eyes gradually reddening.

"Godfather...?"

Chen Fan squinted and smiled, "Our family is back."

Xiao Dengzi suddenly stood up and rushed over in three steps. He wanted to help, but dared not touch him. His hand hovered in mid-air for a while before he carefully took Chen Fan's arm.

"Godfather! You're finally back! Your son... your son thought he'd never see you again in this lifetime!"

His voice choked with sobs, and tears streamed down his no-longer-young face.

Chen Fan patted the back of his hand: "Why are you crying? Everything's fine here."

"Son didn't cry...son just...got some sand in his eyes..." Little Stool rubbed his face vigorously, forcing a smile. "Godfather, come inside quickly, son will go boil some water for you!"

Chen Fan nodded and did not refuse.

He followed the small stool into the kitchen and sat on the old stool that he had sat on for decades. The fire from the stove reflected on his face, making him feel warm and cozy.

Nothing has changed.

It seems like everything has changed.

……

For the next two days, Chen Fan didn't go anywhere.

As before, he woke up at 3:45 AM, got dressed, and slowly strolled to the stables.

The stool is already there.

Feeding the horses, adding hay, cleaning up manure—his movements were so practiced, it seemed like a habit etched into his bones. Seeing Chen Fan arrive, he put down what he was doing, went to help him, and muttered, "Godfather, please be careful, the ground is slippery."

Chen Fan didn't say anything, but sat on the stone bench next to the horse pen, squinting as he watched him work.

The imperial horses seemed to recognize him, occasionally raising their heads to glance at him, snorting, before lowering their heads again to continue grazing.

Upon arriving at the kitchen, Chen Fan sat down in front of the stove to warm himself by the fire, where a small stool was used to heat water.

The two chatted casually.

They chatted about the changes in the palace over the years, which eunuchs had been promoted, and which palace maids had left the palace. Xiao Dengzi spoke with great enthusiasm, and Chen Fan listened with great interest, occasionally interjecting a comment that made Xiao Dengzi laugh.

It felt as if time had never passed.

On the morning of the third day.

Chen Fan pushed open the door, and a gust of cold wind rushed in.

Outside, snow was falling heavily.

Snowflakes, as white as goose feathers, fell all around, covering the palace walls, eaves, and stone paths with a thick layer of white in the blink of an eye.

Chen Fan wrapped his clothes tighter and walked step by step to the center of the Imperial Horse Stable's courtyard.

He looked up.

Amidst the swirling snowflakes, the entire capital of Dayuan was blanketed in silver. Distant palaces appeared and disappeared through the snow, like a faded old painting.

He has lived here for almost a hundred years.

From Emperor Taiyuan's entry into the palace to Hongwu, Jianwen, Yongle, and Emperor Wu... he had witnessed the reigns of five emperors. The little eunuch who trembled by the stables back then was now a cultivator at the peak of the Tribulation Transcending stage. Those once spirited princes, some became emperors, while others turned to dust.

Emperor Jianwen is still alive, but he has grown old.

Emperor Wu was in his prime, but he was no longer the lazy fourteenth prince who used to slack off in the library.

The little stool is getting old.

Even he himself was no longer the hunched-over old eunuch who pretended to be dying.

Chen Fan reached out and caught a snowflake.

The snowflakes landed in my palm and instantly melted into water.

It was cold.

"Godfather...it's cold outside, please go back inside."

The sound of a small stool came from behind me.

Chen Fan didn't turn around, but simply said softly, "Little Stool, how many years have we been working at the Imperial Stables?"

The little stool thought for a moment and said, "It's been over eighty years... When you entered the palace, my son had just arrived."

"More than eighty years..." Chen Fan murmured.

He turned around and looked at the small stool standing in the doorway, wrapped in a thick cotton-padded coat. Deep wrinkles etched his face, and his temples were mostly white. But the light in his eyes was exactly the same as it had been back then.

"Our family has been gone for over seventy years, and you've been guarding this place all by yourself. You've worked so hard."

Little Stool shook his head, his eyes reddening again: "It's not hard work... I just miss you. Every day when I'm feeding the horses, I'm thinking about when my godfather will come back."

Chen Fan smiled and said nothing more.

He turned back to face the imperial city amidst the wind and snow.

The snow was falling heavier and heavier.

The snow on the palace walls was piled up in a thick layer, and the icicles on the eaves swayed gently in the wind. In the distance, the Taiji Hall and Ziji Hall were only vague outlines in the snow curtain.

Those palace paths he had walked countless times, those red walls and yellow tiles he had seen countless times, are now all covered by heavy snow.

It's as if they want to erase everything.

What cannot be erased are the memories etched into one's bones.

He recalled the first time he pushed open the door of the Imperial Stables, the timid look on his face when he first saw Xiao Dengzi, his first encounter with Emperor Jianwen in the library, and Emperor Wu's bear hug...

Scene after scene, it all feels like yesterday.

"The patriarch of the Soul Refining Sect..." Chen Fan muttered to himself, a glint of light flashing in his eyes.

He didn't come back this time to reminisce.

The seal can last for at most another twenty years.

If that old demon breaks free from the seal when the hundred-year period is up, the entire sealed land will be devastated.

Chen Fan must completely settle this karmic debt before that happens.

But before he came to an end, he wanted to take one last look around.

Let's take another look at this place where he has lived for almost a hundred years.

Let's look at those who are still alive.

"Godfather, come inside," Little Stool urged again.

Chen Fan nodded.

He took one last look at the vast expanse of white imperial city, then turned and walked back into the house.

Footsteps crunched on the snow.

Take it one step at a time.

It's exactly the same as it was more than seventy years ago.

……

After leaving the Imperial Stables, Chen Fan did not rush to travel far. Instead, he walked with his hands behind his back towards the Yin Corpse Sect.

Looking around, the sect seemed even more impressive than when he last visited.

In the plaza in front of the main hall, disciples were practicing a combined attack formation, their shouts echoing through the air. From a side hall came the clanging and hammering sounds, as if magical artifacts were being forged. Further away, a faint scent of yin energy mixed with the fragrance of medicine wafted over—the place where corpse puppets were being crafted and souls nurtured.

Chen Fan smiled, narrowing his eyes, and stepped inside.