Immortal Travel of Longevity

After leaving the Wine Tavern, Chen Changsheng went to the City God Temple.

Seeing Chen Changsheng, the Old City God, Mao Gongjiu, was especially excited. He grabbed Chen Changsheng and began to talk his ear off.

“It’s been some years since you last returned, hasn’t it, Mr. Chen?”

“You seem to have been doing well these years, Old City God.”

“Ah, I must thank you for your guidance back then. This old Mao is now single-minded and much more carefree.”

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Chen Changsheng stated his purpose.

“To be honest with you, Old City God, I came today to ask a favor of you.”

The Old City God paused and became serious. “Please speak, Mr. Chen.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be returning to the Flowing Cloud Temple for quite a long time afterward. I hope you’ll relay my message to them then.”

Chen Changsheng then gave a series of instructions. Moyuan and Chenghuang should go out and see the outside world too. As for Tao’er, she practically has a new family now, so I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.

“There’s another matter, too.”

Chen Changsheng said, “It concerns the legacy of the Flowing Cloud Temple. Through divination, I’ve learned that someone will reopen its gates before long. When that happens, I hope you’ll look after them a little.”

The Old City God remained silent for a long time without speaking.

His pondering deepened, his frown growing more serious.

Finally, he asked, “Will you be gone for very long, Mr. Chen?”

Chen Changsheng lifted his head to look at him and nodded.

The Old City God sighed but didn’t answer directly. Instead, he said, “How about finding a Teahouse? We can sit and talk properly.”

Chen Changsheng thought it over and agreed. “Fine.”

The Teahouse wasn’t far. It was nearby and still hadn’t closed when they arrived, though it wouldn’t be long now.

After the waiter brought tea, Chen Changsheng and the Old City God found a quiet spot to sit down.

The Old City God pushed a teacup forward, sighed deeply, and said, “I remember sitting like this with you, sir, many years ago now.”

Chen Changsheng considered this. “It has been a while, hasn’t it? Thirty years?”

The Old City God nodded. “Truly, sir, back then, this petty deity hoped that chatting with you might bring me some gain, like hoping an Immortal would guide the way.”

He shook his head, finding the memory faintly ridiculous.

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng said, “You like this, Old City God, makes me a bit uncomfortable. It’s not like I’m never coming back.”

The Old City God chuckled at that. “Yes, yes, you’re right. I suppose I just wanted to say all this now, to settle the matter in my heart.”

Chen Changsheng took a sip of tea. “I never thought less of you, Old City God. I’ve always considered you a friend.”

He well knew the Old City God had started with impure motives, but hadn’t he, Chen Changsheng, been the same? Friendship born from mutual benefit, which later became genuine. Though they didn’t meet often, both had always remembered: one a certain gentleman, the other a certain City God.

Moreover, the Old City God had also been Chen Changsheng’s guide into the path of Cultivation. Many skills and Divine Abilities came from books the Old City God had gifted.

Otherwise, the Chen Changsheng of today might still be drifting rootlessly, living day to day.

The Old City God nodded. “You, sir, never looked down on a minor deity like me. For someone like me, such great respect is rare indeed. At first, I merely revered you. But now… there’s much more affection. Like genuine bonds in the Mortal World, cherished even from afar.”

Chen Changsheng looked at him. “Isn’t that basic respect?”

The Old City God smiled. “You don’t understand, sir.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Hmm.”

“You, sir, have never truly recognized what kind of person you are. I’ve seen too many people, too many things. Most things in this world come together for profit and scatter for profit. But whether it’s Zhang Wudi or Tong Zhihuan from the marketplace, or even the True Dragon or the Fox Sovereign… none stay by your side simply hoping to get something from you. That kind of loyalty is rarer than the Great Dao of longevity itself.”

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng couldn’t help but smile. How could he not know this?

The world bustles and hustles mostly for gain, yet there also exists pure human connection – often the hardest thing to come by.

The Old City God let out a breath. “Perhaps only you could gather such a diverse group – humans, monsters, Immortals, and spirits.”

“You flatter me too much, Old City God.”

Chen Changsheng said, “My Cultivation is shallow. I’m just grateful for everyone’s kindness.”

“You’re too modest, sir.”

The Old City God sighed again. “Someone like you, sir, will never lack friends wherever you go. I think I finally understand why Immortals in heaven fear the turmoil of the Mortal World… yet you alone do not.”

“Sir, you seem meant for this Heaven and Earth and its Mortal World.”

“Only you, sir, desire not longevity… but the Mortal World.”

……

That night, the Old City God talked and talked. Only when the tea ran dry and the waiter came to shoo them out did they finally stop.

The Old City God was usually shrewd, not always sincere. But sometimes, like suffering from a strange affliction, he would say extravagant things, perhaps without even realizing how extravagant they sounded.

Truthfully, Chen Changsheng wasn’t especially comfortable with such flattery. He often couldn’t tell whether it was flattery or genuine conviction.

Chen Changsheng had no desire to try and figure it out.

Under the mantle of night, Chen Changsheng began walking along the Imperial Road.

He regretted the Wine Gourd wasn’t at his side. He couldn’t take a deep swig beneath this night sky.

He regretted his Taoist Temple, too – that place atop the distant mountain, that place that felt like home. Likely, it would soon find a new master.

But it didn’t matter. He would still come back, many years from now.

“The road is long, the wind rises slowly, trying to cover up only makes more obvious… I seek freedom, carefree indeed…”

Chen Changsheng murmured softly.

He turned and saw the old, dilapidated roadside teahouse again. He remembered drinking tea with its owner all those years ago, remembered casting a divination for him.

Chen Changsheng shook his head with a sigh, thinking how swiftly time passed.

He often succumbed to nostalgic melancholy like this. It was a flaw. But Chen Changsheng reveled in it. He believed that to be truly human, one needed such quirks.

Take that Buddha’s Child, for instance. How many lifetimes shaped by limitless Buddhist compassion? That final lifetime should be for living true to oneself, for only then is one truly human.

What was a “Buddha’s heart”? If it meant boundless mercy… how could that truly be Buddha?

Chen Changsheng walked on. Finding no clear direction, he simply headed towards where the bright moon hung.

In that night, the figure of the Green-Robed Gentleman receded into the distance. Where he was bound, remained unknown.

……

At the Taoist Temple gate.

Moyuan sat silently on the steps, waiting for sir’s return.

Beside him lay Yu Hongjin, belly up, snoring loudly.

Chenghuang stood atop the temple roof, his gaze directed down the mountain.

“Sir still hasn’t returned…”

Moyuan mumbled and sighed.

He waited another half-hour at the temple gate.

He didn’t see sir return.

Instead, he met the Old City God ascending the mountain.

The Old City God brought up a small ornate box, handing it to Moyuan.

“Mr. Chen asked me to deliver this to the True Dragon.”

Moyuan stared blankly, momentarily stunned.