Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

Even when she lived in Hundred Flowers Valley, she had never eaten this well.

The food was good, but it felt like something was missing.

She didn't understand, but she just listened to the talking and arguing and ate her meal quietly.

...

As night fell, Zhuang Xing brewed tea, took the calming pill given to him by Yunling, and sat down to meditate on the bed.

He locked the pandas outside the house. Meditation and breath regulation require an undisturbed environment, so he followed Yunling's instructions and circulated his energy through thirty-six small cycles.

After the effects of the medicine wore off, I felt a sense of clarity, as if the fog covering my vision had been blown away.

He stretched his muscles, drank the tea in one gulp, lay down fully clothed, and closed his eyes.

Master Yuanyan said that the bird from overseas would wake up within three days and would be fine. So, we just need to wait three days and we will know the strangeness in the letter.

Why did it run away when it saw me?

Zhuang Xing still couldn't understand. When he was compiling the Water and Marsh Classic, he encountered many monsters. He only used his sword to eliminate those monsters that were not intelligent and harmed the villages.

If the offense is minor and the monster is just beginning to develop intelligence, he will hand it over to the fox and wolf clans in the mountains for education. If the monster has already developed intelligence, he will reason with it, make it sit down and listen to his teachings, and then lead it to the monster village in Yidu to find it a stable way to make a living and live with humans.

His reputation among the monsters had spread. Sometimes, when he walked alone in the mountains and fields, swallows and small beasts would bring him wild fruits they had picked, asking him to exchange them for food or to help them with their problems.

His reputation among demons should be quite good; at least he shouldn't be so bad that demons would run away upon seeing him. Besides, he is a great demon who can cross the sea alone, so why would he be afraid of a newcomer like him?

Unable to come up with an answer, he could only wait three days to seek guidance from his senior.

He had a vague premonition that this matter might be of great importance to him, and that he needed to find out the root of the problem.

But there was no use thinking about it now. He closed his eyes, listened to the chirping of insects and the purring of the panda outside the window, calmed his mind, and fell asleep peacefully.

He should have been sleeping peacefully, but as his consciousness sank into darkness, he had another dream.

In my dream, there was a person holding a sword.

Spring, summer, autumn, and winter, day and night, that person was always practicing swordsmanship.

He danced with his sword in the snow, he danced with his sword under the moonlight, he danced with his sword by the stream, by the stove, everywhere he was dancing with his sword.

Zhuang Xing couldn't see his face clearly. He wondered if this was a sword fanatic.

He likes swords, but not to this extent.

Don't you get tired of practicing swordsmanship day and night?

Within that sword intent, Zhuang Xing only sensed a chilling killing intent.

He is a swordsman; he understands the techniques. He can clearly see whether a sword is used to hone techniques or to kill.

He realized this was a murderous sword, each strike deadly and aimed directly at vital points.

Such a pure sword was awe-inspiring even to Zhuang Xing, who was merely observing. The person wielding it was likely a killer, not someone to be trifled with.

However, this person's realm was very profound. Zhuang Xing saw that amazing sword intent, as if it could split a mountain with a single sword.

In a daze, he recalled the day he first arrived at Xuanqing Temple. He saw the smooth, wall-like cliff and realized that this sword was indeed no less powerful than the sword of the founding ancestor of Xuanqing Temple.

As Zhuang Xing pondered this, countless springs and winters passed before he finally saw the man who had wielded the sword sheath.

It seemed he was going to rest. Zhuang Xing heard a sigh, and the man threw down his sword and left without looking back, disappearing without a trace.

...

A place where demons and evil spirits wreak havoc

Three days later.

Inside the pharmacy, the goose spirit lying in the basket finally stretched out its wings, its feathers fluttering, opened its eyes, and woke up.

Its head was fuzzy and confused. It only remembered that it had been tied up by a powerful immortal whose cultivation far surpassed its own, and that it could hear something like, "This meat is good whether it's stewed or roasted. But why not cook half and roast the other half? That would be the best way to eat a bird in two ways."

Upon learning that it was about to become a meal, to have its blood drained and its skin peeled off, it fainted from fright.

Upon waking, it was still not fully conscious, but the lingering fear remained in its heart. So when it saw a group of Taoist priests in robes surrounding it, it was immediately startled and stumbled, flapping its wings and squawking like a frightened duck.

However, it had lost one-tenth of its strength and was unable to take off. After all that fuss, it only managed to shake off the wool blanket wrapped around its body and lose a few feathers.

The surrounding Taoist priests were intimidated by it, almost thinking it was about to use some kind of skill. Some drew their swords, while others took out talismans.

Fortunately, none of the people present were ordinary; they could all see with their discerning eyes that it was merely startled. Otherwise, in its panic, if it had struck with its sword, it's uncertain whether the wild goose spirit would have survived.

"Fellow Daoist Shuofeng, are you well?" Qingxuzi was the first to step forward and reassure him.

The old Taoist priest had a kind and benevolent face. When the wild goose spirit awoke, it recognized him as a familiar face and quickly regained its composure.

"Where is this?" it asked. "How did I get here?"

“A guest from our temple had a misunderstanding with Fellow Daoist Shuofeng. It was my disciple who brought you here to recuperate for three days before you woke up,” Qingxuzi said. “The elders of the temple should have chosen a suitable place for you to recuperate. Besides feeling weak all over, is there anything else that bothers you?”

The goose spirit was stunned. From what it heard, it was these Taoist priests who had saved it. In the past, it would never have believed one-sided stories so easily, but the Taoist priest named Song Yu had indeed saved its life and had received his kindness. It had developed a little goodwill towards the Taoist priest.

It examined its own internal energy and found that it indeed showed signs of being adjusted by someone. Some old injuries had even healed, so it believed the old Taoist's words.

"I see, thank you for saving me, Daoist Master," the goose spirit replied.

It peeked out and saw that the great immortal from that day was not here, and breathed a sigh of relief. However, it was no longer as arrogant and domineering as it had been that day.

“It was our poor hospitality, please don’t take offense, fellow Daoist,” Qingxuzi said. “However, now that you have woken up, I have something I would like to ask you.”

"Please speak, Taoist priest."

Realizing that there are always people more capable than oneself and that there is always something beyond one's understanding, the wild goose spirit became very polite.

It thought that this Taoist temple could accommodate such a person, it must be a place of immortals. Thinking back, this mountain was indeed full of spiritual energy, much better than the desolate mountain and the dilapidated temple it had seen before.

Qingxuzi asked, "Three days ago, I invited you to a welcoming ceremony, and you gladly accepted. Why did you change your mind after seeing my disciple and suddenly leave?"

"Is that your disciple?" The goose spirit was taken aback.

“His name is Zhuang Xing. I personally brought him up the mountain many years ago.”

“Zhuang Xing…” the goose spirit murmured, “That’s right, could it be the same person… I must be panicking, but could there really be such a similar person in the world…”

"Fellow Daoist, is there perhaps some connection between you and my disciple?" Qingxuzi pressed on.

“I must have mistaken you for someone else,” said the goose spirit. “When I was crossing the ocean, I accidentally entered a chaotic place. That place was filled with miasma and evil spirits. It was a hundred times more terrifying than your peaceful place. It was in that place where evil spirits were rampant that I saw a person who looked very much like your disciple.”

"They look very alike?" Qingxuzi frowned. "Is what you say true, fellow Daoist?"

“They look nine-tenths alike,” said the goose spirit. “His cultivation is extraordinary. When I met him, I was so shocked that I couldn’t move. Fortunately, he didn’t take my life, but left me in a desolate mountain.”

"Where is the place where the evil spirits are causing chaos?" Qingxuzi asked.

“It is far away from here, separated by the sea,” said the goose spirit.

"Then... why do you seem to know a little red panda demon in my disciple's room?"

“In that desolate mountain, there was a dilapidated temple, and in the temple lived a one-eyed panda spirit who took care of me for some time. I was puzzled when I saw that the panda resembled an old acquaintance of mine, but I never thought that it would cause such trouble.”

The wild goose spirit sighed. It thought delivering a message would be a simple matter with its cultivation level, but it never expected the journey to be so arduous, full of twists and turns, and it almost lost its life.

It had been to this area before, coming and going freely, so why was it so unlucky to wander into an unfamiliar place?

The more I thought about it, the more depressed I felt, and all my sharpness vanished.

Fortunately, he survived. As long as he's alive, he can always make a comeback.

Just as it was trying to find some solace in its misery, footsteps sounded outside the little house.

Qingxuzi turned around and saw the person at the door. He asked in a slightly anxious tone, "Yunling, have you found any trace of Zhuang Xing?"

The woman shook her head and whispered, "Master, I've already scattered cattail seeds all over this mountain..."

Qingxuzi frowned more and more, turned to look at the wild goose on the seat, and said, "Fellow Daoist, come with me outside to take a look. I have something else I want to ask you."

He picked up the basket and stepped outside.

As the light turned to darkness, the sunlight suddenly became a bit dazzling, and the goose spirit felt a blurry whiteness before its eyes, not having time to adjust.

I could only vaguely make out that the old Taoist was pointing to a certain spot and said, “Fellow Taoist, take a close look at that cliff face. Have you seen it somewhere before?”

The goose spirit gradually adjusted to the bright sunlight outside. It blinked and saw clearly the place the old Taoist priest had pointed to.

It was a smooth cliff, straight down, as if the mountain had been cleaved in two by a sword.

Its first impression was that it looked somewhat familiar. The old Taoist priest then lifted it up and showed it around.

Suddenly its eyes widened. It suddenly remembered that there was a cliff in that desolate mountain area.

However, the cliffs there were not as beautiful as those here. Here, there were green mountains and clear waters, birds singing and flowers blooming. The sunlight shining on the cliffs made them look like a piece of white jade. But the cliffs of that barren mountain were mottled like copper rust. The water on the mountain was dried up, the trees were withered, and it was just a dead mountain.

...

"It really looks like a dead mountain."

Zhuang Xing expressed his heartfelt feelings.

Beneath his feet were broken bricks covered with moss and withered grass, and above his head were tiles that had fallen halfway down.

The sky was clear, but there wasn't a single bird in sight. He looked up and gazed at the distant mountain wall.

The water source had long since dried up, leaving everything withered and yellow. The mountains themselves seemed as silent as if they were dead. He turned back to look at the three characters on the gate, their paint already peeling off, and felt a mix of emotions.

It was already hard to see clearly, but Zhuang Xing still recognized it. On the plaque covered with cobwebs, the three large characters "Xuanqing Temple" were clearly written in sharp strokes.

However, the brushstrokes have been dulled by the years, and apart from a few broken strokes, the brilliance that once reflected sunlight is no longer visible.

This Taoist temple, like this mountain, seems to be dead.

Things are not

Zhuang Xing strolled through the dilapidated Taoist temple. Sprouting grass and trees broke through the bluestone bricks, the bricks and tiles had weathered many storms, and cobwebs covered the beams.

He was standing inside the Seven Records Studio when a cold wind suddenly blew by. He looked in the direction of the wind and saw a crack in the wall.

The place was deserted and dilapidated; there was no one there except him.

No one has come here for a long time.

How could this be?

He frowned, trying to visualize everything he saw.