Chapter 61: Ten Days of Tales (Part 1)
(This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation)
Pei Ru Yi’s Spiritual Essence had undergone a lengthy restoration. Gradually, she began to sense the ripples of Spiritual Qi again. However, her exhaustion remained profound, and soon, she fell into a deep slumber.
Wen Zheng Xin and Ban Yang Shu, who had also been pushing themselves to their limits, finally felt reassured enough to begin restoring their own Spiritual Qi. In the depths of the ruins, an eerie silence settled, broken only by the crackling of the bonfire.
Yuan Chen stood from where he had been tending to Pei Ru Yi. Glancing at his brother-in-law, who had just ended his meditative recovery and opened his eyes, Yuan Chen lingered in silent thought before heading toward the other severely injured disciples.
“Brother-in-law, I might be busy until midnight.”
“Your efforts are appreciated. Once they’re out of here, I’ll share a portion of their payment with you—two parts of the whole.”
The injured disciples under treatment overheard this and looked up in alarm. [Wait, payment? Does that mean I can’t afford treatment…?]
Yuan Chen’s lips twitched at the comment. “Forget it. You value money more than life itself. I doubt you’ll truly share. How about lending me that book instead? It’s been gripping.”
“?”
Ji You turned his gaze to the broken wall on the right, noticing Yuan Chen’s treasured copy of Flying Immortal that had rarely left his hands during their journey. The story followed the life of a cultivator scion born with extraordinary talent, basking in the admiration of countless peers—an arc that bore a striking resemblance to Chu He’s early years.
By the age of ten, the protagonist had reached the Fifth Realm, his cultivation progressing at breathtaking speed. Wherever he went, the crowd’s attention followed. From the Immortal Gatherings to the Sword Inquiry Meets, any Daoist Assembly featuring him would see him emerging victorious.
Ji You began reading aloud. Before long, the listening Immortal Sect disciples perked up their ears, quietly taking in every word. Even Wen Zheng Xin and Ban Yang Shu opened their eyes to listen.
The book’s appeal lay in its straightforward formula—the protagonist’s unstoppable triumphs. It fed the fantasies of every Immortal Sect disciple present. A protagonist with a towering lineage, unparalleled talent, and the favor of his sect—who wouldn’t dream of such a life?
But just as the story reached its most thrilling moment, Ji You abruptly stopped. “Almost let you enjoy it too much. Trial’s over. Suggest you subscribe to VIP.”
“What?”
“Pay up.”
“Brother-in-law, your obsession with money is unmatched…”
Ji You chuckled. [If not for silver, I’d have already completed my sect’s ceremonial launch. Who would bother venturing into this wretched place?]
He resumed reading silently but couldn’t help shaking his head. The book’s wide circulation was undoubtedly sanctioned by the Seven Great Immortal Sects. In the rigidly stratified Azure Clouds Dominion, privately publishing a cultivation novel would have been almost impossible.
Perhaps the Seven Great Immortal Sects permitted such tales to glorify their Immortal Ideals. While the content itself posed no issue, Ji You was unsettled by the author’s tone. The protagonist often referred to himself as an “Immortal” and depicted ordinary people as “mere ants” or even “human slaves.”
Unmistakably, it was a text steeped in subjective superiority. It exalted Immortals and demeaned ordinary folk, likening them to livestock. Whether this rhetoric stemmed from longstanding convention or stylistic norms, Ji You couldn’t be certain. But the implications were clear: such stories, circulating among Immortal Sect disciples, would subtly instill a divide between Immortals and mortals. Generations later, this ideological split might completely sever their shared identity.
The reverence of mortals in Yuyang County for any cultivator—regardless of realm—suddenly made sense. It also explained why Immortal Worship Mountain Manor saw no moral dilemma in refining people into Spirit Pills. Such normalization of division allowed cultivators to view mortals as mere beasts.
Holding Flying Immortal, Ji You resolved to revise it. He began to read aloud again.
“The scion of the Immortal Sect vanquished all challengers, earning the world’s acclaim. Having reached the Ninth Realm, he stood atop the pinnacle of the Dao.”
“His name, spoken by mortals and immortals alike, was adorned with the highest praise.”
“Yet, as he pursued Immortality, he found himself questioning his path. Was it merely for eternal life? Or was there something more?”
“The closer he drew to ascension, the more hollow and directionless he felt. Reflecting on his journey, he found it monotonous. A century of cultivation blurred into the repetition of a single day.”
“He had no beloved companion, no trusted friend, and no clear destination.”
The surrounding disciples froze at these words, their brows furrowing. A silent plea rose: [Stop. Please don’t go there.]
Even Yuan Chen glanced at Ji You, his expression surprised. He had read this part before and knew the protagonist’s tale concluded with his triumphant ascension to sainthood. This divergence was unexpected.
Ji You’s voice carried on.
“Lost and seeking clarity, the protagonist traced his lineage back to a humble village. There, he discovered his ancestor was a blacksmith who had stumbled upon Immortal Fortune.”
“Realizing his mortal heritage, he decided to descend the mountain, returning to the village. There, he met Ji Bo Chang, a fellow cultivator of unmatched grace and power, serving humbly as a local magistrate.”
The disciples exchanged puzzled glances. [Where is this going?]
Ji You’s tone remained composed as he wove his tale.
“The protagonist asked Ji Bo Chang, ‘Brother Ji, what is the purpose of our cultivation?’ Ji Bo Chang replied with a question of his own: ‘What were you told?’”
“The protagonist answered, ‘My father said it was to become an Immortal.’”
“‘And after that?’ Ji Bo Chang inquired. ‘What is an Immortal? Who among us has truly glimpsed the Immortal Realm?’”
“Ji Bo Chang laughed softly and pointed to the ground beneath them.”
“The protagonist, puzzled, decided to stay and ponder. Villagers, mistaking him for a fallen noble, treated him kindly and even proposed introducing him to a suitable maiden.”
“However, his sect disapproved, summoning him back to the mountain to resume his pursuit of ascension.”
By this point, the disciples were visibly uneasy. The story’s earlier exhilaration had dissipated, replaced by an inexplicable dullness.
Just then, Ji You’s voice shifted sharply.
“One tranquil evening, a mass of black clouds rose from the west. Moments later, the Demon Race descended, wreaking havoc. Within a single day, the land was reduced to ashes, corpses littering the earth.”
“?”
Ban Yang Shu interjected, “Junior Brother Ji, what are these ‘Demons’?”
Ji You pondered. “A race with greater physical strength and a stronger inclination toward violence.”
“So, like the barbaric tribes of the Northern Frontier?”
“Creative works shouldn’t blur with reality.”
Returning to his narrative, Ji You continued, “The Seven Great Immortal Sects sealed their gates, activating their protective formations, leaving the world to fend for itself. The protagonist, immersed in secluded cultivation, initially paid no heed. But one day, he descended to face the Demons alone.”
“No one knew why.”
“Rumor had it he had received a letter from Ji Bo Chang, recounting the horrors visited upon the village—the young shepherd beheaded, the elderly matron’s heart ripped out, and the maiden Shu Shu nailed to the town’s walls.”
“Shu Shu, who had once slipped him a few spare cakes, believing him hungry.”
Ji You paused. Among the crowd, Bai Ru Long clenched his fists, tears welling as he furiously plucked the grass around him. [I feel this deeply. But who is this Shu Shu?]
Even Yuan Chen faltered, his chest tightening as his Pill Radiance dimmed.
The disciple under Yuan Chen’s care went pale. [Am I beyond saving?]