Mortal: Starting with the Seven Mysterious Sects, I proved my Dao through sacrifice.

Murong Fan had been practicing the Everlasting Spring Technique and other spells for over half a year when he suddenly remembered that he was about to turn seventeen. As a transmigrator, seventeen was the prime of youth, and a thought struck him: "It's said that the way of both literature and martial arts has always been a balance of tension and relaxation. Why not take this opportunity, on my birthday, to invite Li Feiyu and Han Li for a drink? Perhaps this brief pause, relaxation, and adjustment can pave a better start for our cultivation!"

Murong Fan immediately wrote two letters and sent them to Shenshou Valley and Li Feiyu's residence respectively. In the letters, he was earnest and only said that it was a small gathering to celebrate his birthday, and that they would not talk about martial arts, but only reminisce about old times.

Three days later, at dusk, Murong Fan prepared a table of food and wine at the villa: eight kinds of wild game from the back mountains of the Seven Mysteries Sect, including stewed grouse with mushrooms, sashimi of Qingxi fish, and stir-fried bamboo shoots with meat, accompanied by osmanthus wine brewed by Li Feiyu last year. After making the arrangements, he dismissed the maids around him and personally set the table and lit the candles to show his sincerity.

"Senior Brother Murong, congratulations!"

Li Feiyu's voice preceded her arrival as she strode into the courtyard, followed by Han Li, a dark-skinned and slightly thin man. Han Li was still dressed in gray linen clothes, his expression indifferent, his gaze flickering slightly when it fell upon the furnishings in the courtyard.

"Junior Brother Li, Junior Brother Han, please take a seat." Murong Fan greeted them with a smile, "Today we won't talk about cultivation, we'll only talk about romance."

Li Feiyu sat down casually, grabbed the wine jug, and sniffed it: "Good heavens, this is osmanthus wine that I've been storing for a year. I wouldn't even drink it myself!"

"That's why I'm offering this as a token of my appreciation today." Murong Fan filled their wine cups. "Come, let's drink to that, thank you both for your presence!"

After a few rounds of drinks, Li Feiyu started talking, from trivial matters in the sect to interesting stories in the martial arts world, and then to his "glorious deeds" in his youth.

Han Li didn't talk much, but he was no longer as wary as when they first met. He occasionally chimed in, mostly with his insights on identifying medicinal herbs.

"Junior Brother Han is quite knowledgeable in pharmacology," Murong Fan said, seizing the opportunity. "I've been experiencing stagnation in my meridians during my cultivation lately. Do you know of any effective remedies?"

Han Li looked up at him, his gaze clear: "Senior Brother Murong's cultivation method is different from mine. Although I understand his pharmacology, I dare not speak presumptuously. However..." He paused, "If Senior Brother trusts me, I can prepare a herbal decoction to relax muscles and improve blood circulation, which, combined with acupuncture, may alleviate the symptoms."

"Then thank you very much." Murong Fan raised his glass in thanks, thinking to himself: Han Li may seem indifferent, but he is a man of his word. This meal today was definitely worth it.

After several rounds of toasts, Li Feiyu was already half-drunk. He slapped the table and laughed, "You two, talking so formally, aren't you tired? Come on, let's drink! Today is Senior Brother Murong's birthday, we won't leave until we're drunk!"

"Senior Brother Li!" Han Li rarely smiled. "You said the same thing last time you reached out to the Valley of Reapers, but you ended up crawling under the table yourself first."

"That was purely an accident!"

The three exchanged smiles, and the atmosphere in the courtyard grew even more lively. Murong Fan, looking at the scene before him, suddenly felt a sense of disorientation: His journey since transmigrating had been fraught with peril, and this moment of relaxation was a rare treat. Li Feiyu's forthrightness and Han Li's reserved nature were both genuine and rare.

As the wine flowed freely, Li Feiyu lowered his voice and asked, "Junior Brother Murong, are you aware of the recent rumors circulating in the sect?"

"Oh?"

"It is said that there are relics of immortals deep in the Black Wind Mountains. Several elders have secretly investigated many times, and it is said that there is a way to achieve immortality!" Li Feiyu's eyes gleamed.

Murong Fan's heart skipped a beat, but he remained outwardly calm: "Rumors in the martial world are mostly unreliable. Senior Brother Li should focus on his cultivation and not be distracted."

"Of course I know." Li Feiyu waved his hand and downed a glass. "But what if? I mean what if, what if such an opportunity really comes along..."

Before he could finish speaking, he had already slumped onto the table, and began to snore.

Murong Fan and Han Li looked at each other in silence. Han Li got up and helped Li Feiyu to a side room to rest. When he returned, Murong Fan had a bowl of hangover soup in his hand.

"I'm sorry to have made you laugh, Junior Brother Han," Murong Fan sighed.

Han Li shook his head and sat down in the same spot where Li Feiyu had been. Moonlight shone on his thin face, revealing a maturity beyond his years.

"Senior Brother Murong," he suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, "do you believe in immortals?"

Murong Fan's heart stirred, and he replied carefully, "I believe you. The world is vast and full of wonders; what mortals cannot see with their naked eyes may still exist."

Han Li remained silent for a long time before picking up his wine cup and drinking it all in one gulp. A faint blush rose to his cheeks, but his eyes became even clearer—or rather, more profound.

"I believe you," he said, "because I've seen it."

Murong Fan's grip on the cup tightened slightly.

Han Li looked up at him, his gaze intense: "Because Senior Brother Murong is a cultivator."

The courtyard fell silent suddenly. The night wind blew, and the candlelight flickered, casting shadows that were sometimes bright and sometimes dim on the two people's faces.

Murong Fan quickly denied it, slowly put down his wine glass, and stopped circulating his spiritual energy.

"Junior Brother Han is drunk after all." Murong Fan's face flushed, but he still tried to cover it up.

Han Li shook his head and smiled bitterly: "Senior Brother Murong, you don't need to hide it from me. In the past six months, the medicinal herbs in Shenshou Valley have been consumed abnormally, the spiritual energy in your courtyard has been fluctuating, and that day when I returned from gathering herbs, I personally saw you riding the wind through the bamboo forest behind the mountain."

Murong Fan remained silent for a moment, knowing that further denial would be futile. He refilled his wine cup and pushed it in front of Han Li: "Since Junior Brother Han has already seen through it, I will no longer conceal it. This matter is of great importance, so I hope you will keep your mouth shut."

"Don't worry, senior brother," Han Li said solemnly. "Although I am just a mortal, I know what's important. I spoke carelessly today because I have been holding something in my heart for too long and have never told anyone before—I truly consider you my closest friend and family, which is why I am willing to tell you."

Murong Fan did not urge him, but waited quietly.

"Old Master Mo forced me to cultivate the Everlasting Spring Technique, which is exactly the same as what you practice, saying it's to help him recover his vital essence." Han Li looked helpless.

"He threatened my family's lives, forcing me to take the 'Corpse Worm Pill' and giving me a year to cultivate that technique to the fourth level. Now there are less than six months left in the deadline. That old dog is ruthless and cruel. I want to ask Senior Brother Murong for help!" These words were sincere and full of his hopes.

Murong Fan did not immediately agree, but fell into deep thought, looking calmly at Han Li.

Han Li looked at Murong Fan's noncommittal expression, his pleading look fading into disappointment and stiffness.

The quiet night only made the awkwardness of the moment all the more apparent.

"Could it be... that Senior Brother Murong refuses to help me?" His voice was dry and trembling with disbelief.

Seeing the despair on his face, Murong Fan slowly spoke.

"What's the rush! I didn't say I wouldn't help you, it's just..." Murong Fan deliberately paused.

"Senior Brother Murong, please feel free to name your conditions!" Han Li said eagerly.

"After dealing with Mo Juren, the elixirs need to be supplied promptly, and I should also share half of his good stuff." Han Li immediately replied, "No problem."

"Today is Senior Brother's birthday, so I specially brought two bottles each of Yellow Dragon Pill, Nourishing Essence Pill, and Golden Marrow Pill. It was inconvenient to take them out just now because Senior Brother Li was present," Han Li explained with a fawning expression.

"Han Li was indeed prepared! I have the initiative in this transaction, so I can just openly and legitimately squeeze some money out of him," Murong Fan thought to himself.

……

While having a late-night conversation with Han Li by candlelight, Murong Fan suddenly realized that the two had so many similarities.

"Senior Brother Murong, do you think... it's really possible for a mortal to cultivate immortality?" Han Li asked, his eyes blurry with drunkenness, stubbornly turning over his empty wine glass.

Murong Fan remained silent for a moment. The candlelight flickered, casting shadows on their faces. He recalled the careful steps he had taken since transmigrating, the cold, sacrificial numbers on the altar, and the excruciating pain of his meridians tearing during his breakthrough.

"Junior Brother Han," his voice was low but firm, "we are both ants struggling to survive in the mire. Mo Juren sees you as a medicine furnace, the Seven Mysteries Sect sees us disciples as pawns, and cultivators regard mortals as worthless weeds. But even ants try to live, let alone you and me?"

Murong Fan picked up his wine cup and drank the rest of the wine: "I believe! I don't believe in the illusory Heavenly Dao, I only believe in the sword in my hand and the path under my feet."

Han Li stared at him blankly, his eyes slightly red, then suddenly raised his cup and clinked it heavily against his: "Good! I only trust the sword in my hand and the path beneath my feet!"

That night, they drank until late and talked for a long time. Murong Fan settled Han Li in a side room, but he himself sat alone in the courtyard until dawn. The morning dew dampened his clothes, but he felt that this was the most peaceful and happiest day he had had in seventeen years.

"My seventeenth birthday was very rewarding, it was all worth it! It seems that I need to spend more time with everyone and have more heart-to-heart talks in the future to better relieve the pressure." Murong Fan smiled slightly, a meaningful curve appearing at the corner of his mouth.

P.S.: While jogging this evening, I passed by the gate of a high school and saw several students who had just finished their evening self-study session gathered in front of a snack shop, celebrating a classmate's seventeenth birthday. They laughed and joked, sometimes discussing exam results, sometimes dreaming about the future; the vibrant energy of youth was palpable. Looking at the genuine smiles on the faces of these young men and women, I couldn't help but stop for a moment. In a daze, I recalled a time when I, too, shared a cheap cake with a friend after evening self-study, and found it to be the sweetest taste in the world.

The rainy season of being seventeen, how wonderful!