Under One Person: Feng Shui Master, I Will Protect the Mountains and Rivers with My Own Body

Yan Sen felt as if his brain had been violently stirred up by a steel rod.

1944 years?

He subconsciously raised his hand and stiffly counted on his fingers.

2005 minus 1944 equals 61.

This doesn't even take into account how long she lived before 1944. Even if she was just born in 1944, she would be an elderly woman in her sixties by now.

But what about the one in front of you?

Although she was a bit sloppy, her skin was so fair that it even gave her a sickly appearance. Not only were there no wrinkles around her eyes, neck, or face, but her white legs were also crossed on the sofa. Her whole body, from head to toe, was pink and tender.

You call this an old man?

It took Yan Sen a long time to catch his breath.

This is just too outrageous, so outrageous that even he, a self-proclaimed worldly expert, finds it absurd.

According to Yan Que, after mastering his family's secret technique, the "Shaking Dragon Scripture," to its ultimate level, one can achieve the state of "Five Qi Converging to the Origin," becoming a terrestrial immortal.

Although no one in later generations has ever reached that threshold since the ancestor who created this unique skill has done so, the method of cultivation is here, so it is theoretically feasible.

When one cultivates the Shaking Dragon Scripture to its ultimate state, the body itself becomes the framework, and all mortal laws cannot touch it.

Awesome, right? Absolutely awesome.

But even with such an amazing method, I've never heard of any ancestor who could stay young forever.

Then there's his own grandmaster, Zhang Zhiwei, the current Celestial Master of the Celestial Master's Mansion on Longhu Mountain.

Yan Sen heard from Grandpa Tian that Zhang Zhiwei had been incredibly powerful since they first met, and he had remained so since he was young. If Tian Jinzhong was "second only to one person" on Longhu Mountain, then Zhang Zhiwei was "the one person".

But so what?

Time has been cruel, and now his face is full of wrinkles and age spots.

The record broken by Feng Baobao...

It's not the limit of power, but the shackles of race, the rules of life.

Yan Sen admitted that after hearing these words, his heart felt like it was being scratched by a cat, extremely itchy.

"Baby Sister, please continue..." Yan Sen bent down to pick up the pen that had fallen to the ground, turned to a new page, and this time he was really serious.

"Oh, then I'll begin. That year..."

Feng Baobao rested her chin on her hand, her gaze passing through the television in the living room, seemingly looking towards that distant summer filled with the smoke of battle and the chirping of cicadas.

She spoke slowly, without much emotional fluctuation, as if she were telling someone else's story.

"When I woke up, I didn't know anything. Who I was, where my home was, who my parents were, my mind was completely blank."

"Later, I met Aunt Zhao, Uncle Xu, and Gouwazi..."

Yan Sen listened quietly, his pen scratching across the paper as he recorded what seemed like a diary entry, but was in fact a weighty record of the past.

"Later, Aunt Zhao and Gouwazi also disappeared, and I wandered around in the mountains all by myself."

"When I was hungry, I ate wild fruits, stole bird eggs, and ate bamboo shoots. When I was thirsty, I drank spring water. There were pandas in the mountains, so I followed them around. Whatever they ate, I ate too, even though it wasn't very tasty and was quite tough."

At this point, Feng Baobao seemed to remember something and suddenly stopped.

She ran barefoot to the open kitchen and opened the door of the large refrigerator.

Cold air came out.

Without any hesitation, she took out a can of cola from inside, glanced at Yan Sen, and shook the can in her hand.

Yan Sen nodded: "Get one for me too."

"Whoosh—"

The red aluminum can traced a parabola in the air.

Yan Sen raised his hand to catch it, feeling a cool touch on his fingertips.

"Sizzle—"

The two pulled the tabs at the same time with perfect coordination.

"Glug glug..."

He tilted his head back and drank deeply.

"belch--!"

Two burps of varying lengths echoed in the quiet living room of the villa.

The "happy water," brimming with the taste of modern industrial saccharin, seemed to have diluted the oppressive feeling brought about by that past.

Feng Baobao wiped her mouth, sat back down cross-legged on the sofa, and her eyes became vacant again.

"I stayed in the mountains for a very, very long time, so long that I can't even remember how many years passed, until one day, I met a man."

"Actually, that wasn't the first time I met that man."

"He secretly came to see me a few times before." Feng Baobao tilted her head, seemingly trying to recall what the person looked like. "I don't know why, but I could feel that he was there, but he didn't want me to know that he was there, so I always pretended not to see him."

"He comes in a different spot every time; sometimes he stands on a tree branch, sometimes he hides behind a rock."

Yan Sen didn't interrupt, but his brows furrowed slightly.

"The last time he spoke to me."

Feng Baobao's voice lowered a few decibels, "That day, he stood on a big rock and told me to leave the mountains and go out into the world."

He said that as long as I'm willing to wait, someone will definitely help me.

"Then I went down the mountain..."

"Then, I met Gouwazi again. He'd gotten so old. He even took me to see that old man named Zhang Xilin..."

The rest of the story is that before Zhang Xilin died, he entrusted his grandson Zhang Chulan to Feng Baobao and told her that if she wanted to know his background, she should stay by Zhang Chulan's side.

Feng Baobao has finished speaking.

She held the empty Coke can, her eyes fixed intently on Yan Sen.

Although his face remained expressionless, Yan Sen could clearly sense an emotion called "expectation".

She was waiting for an answer.

Yan Sen took a deep breath and placed the crumpled can on the coffee table.

"call......"

He straightened his back, abandoning his usual carefree demeanor, and looked directly at Feng Baobao.

"Baby, I don't make promises to people easily."

"After all, when it comes to promises, it's fine if you can keep them, but if you can't, all that's left is debt."

Yan Sen paused, his tone becoming unusually serious: "So I can't guarantee that I can really help you find the answer you're looking for."

"but."

Yan Sen stretched out a finger and pointed to his heart.

I will do my best to find it.

"Can you accept this answer?"

Feng Baobao blinked.

She didn't seem to care about the "cannot be guaranteed" part; all she heard was "try your best to find it."

"Mmm...mmm..."

Feng Baobao's big eyes turned into beady eyes, and she nodded obediently, "That's fine."

Yan Sen smiled, his tense nerves relaxing slightly.

But this matter is not over.

He leaned back, assuming a standard Taoist "resurrection pose," sinking deeply into the soft sofa. Looking at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, he asked seemingly casually:

"I've heard the story, but I still have two questions that I need you to answer."

"Go ahead and ask."

"First," Yan Sen held up a finger, "since Zhang Xilin said that you only need to stay by Zhang Chulan's side and wait for the child to grow up, you will naturally know everything. So why don't you wait a few more years? For you, time is the cheapest thing, isn't it?"

"Secondly, the fewer people who know about your affairs, the better. In this respect, Grandpa Xu and Xu San and Xu Si did the right thing. But why, at this critical juncture, do you trust me so much, someone you've only known for a few days?"

Feng Baobao tilted her head and thought for a moment.

"Because Grandpa Zhang also said that if no one investigates Zhang Chulan, then I've been waiting in vain."

"As for why I believe you..."

Feng Baobao stretched out a hand and gestured in the air, seemingly searching for the right words.

"Hmm... let me think about how to say it."

"The man who sent me down the mountain, his Qi... is very similar to yours."

Yan Sen's pupils suddenly contracted.

"But..." Feng Baobao added, "it's not quite the same."

"I don't know his name."

——!

It's similar to my own Qi, but not quite the same?

As someone who had cultivated for many years, Yan Sen knew exactly what this meant.

No two leaves in this world are exactly alike, just as no two types of Qi are exactly alike.

Even among fellow disciples practicing the same techniques, the "flavor" of Qi varies greatly due to differences in individual constitution, personality, and understanding.

For example, the Taoist priests of Longhu Mountain, although they all practiced the Golden Light Mantra, in Yan Sen's view of "The Qi of All Things," the Old Celestial Master's Qi was like a blazing sun, while Tian Jinzhong's Qi was explosive and unparalleled; they were completely different paths.

There is only one exception.

That is—the "Shaking Dragon Classic".

His family's secret technique was too domineering. It reshaped the cultivator's five internal organs by absorbing the five elements, thus simulating the five elements of heaven and earth.

Practicing this thing will forcibly rewrite the structure of a person's internal organs and the trajectory of Qi.

Just like his conversation with his father.

Although the father and son have very different personalities, they both cultivated lung metal, so they have an amazing similarity in the underlying nature of qi.

That mixed Qi with its unique properties is the Yan family's distinctive anti-counterfeiting mark.

This leads to one point—the only thing that resembles the "Hanlong Jing" is the "Hanlong Jing".

Yan Sen's mind began to race, like an overloaded computer.

Following this logic, we can push the line upwards.

That mysterious man who, decades ago, ventured deep into the mountains and forests to see Feng Baobao several times...

Who is it?

The first thing that came to Yan Sen's mind was his own father, Yan Que, who liked to wear baggy shorts and talked nonsense.

But he rejected it the next second.

Feng Baobao spent her time on the mountain several decades ago, when Xu Xiang was just a little kid nicknamed "Gouwazi".

Based on the timeline, that was in the 1950s.

Back then, my own father was still waiting in the underworld for a lottery to be reincarnated.

Exclude any omissions in the text.

Then who could it be?

The Yan family line is shockingly sparsely populated.

Great-grandfather Yan Hong?

That tough guy who drank with the old immortal until he had to be carried home by others.

Not right either.

According to my father, my great-grandfather passed away shortly after the Jia Shen Rebellion due to severe health problems.

Although the timeline roughly matches the first few years after Feng Baobao appeared, he definitely wouldn't have lived longer than Feng Baobao had spent so long in the mountains.

That leaves only one possibility.

Yan Sen felt his throat was a little dry.

The old photo that his father had kept hidden deep in the album, which he had found when he returned home, resurfaced in his mind.

Wild mountains and ridges.

Great-grandfather Yan Hong sat in the middle smoking a pipe.

Standing next to him was Wugensheng, who was smiling broadly and holding a baby girl in his arms.

On the other side stood a boy who looked only fifteen or sixteen years old.

She bears a striking resemblance to Yan Que in her features, but appears more youthful and reserved.

Yan Sen's grandfather, whom he had never met, was Yan Qi!

At this moment, Yan Sen really wanted to call Yan Que, who was gossiping at the entrance of Zhuge Bagua Village, and ask him in detail why the Yan family's affairs were everywhere in this huge world of supernatural beings!