Immortal Travel of Longevity

What lay before them was Xuan Di, no longer resembling a human. His eyes had sunken deep, his skin wrinkled and dotted with many spots, like a dried-up corpse.

Chen Changsheng couldn’t help but freeze for an instant upon seeing him.

He wondered what Xuan Di had endured over these years to end up in such a state—neither living person nor dead ghost.

And that purple robe… where had it come from?

Xuan Di, who sat like dried bones, suddenly rose to his feet.

Wang Yu rushed into the cave. When he saw his master stand, his eyes went wide.

“Master, you—”

For so many years, Master hadn’t stood. But today…

Xuan Di moved with painful slowness. His whole body would freeze with every small step forward.

Seeing this, Wang Yu hurried over to support him. Leaning on his disciple, Xuan Di finally reached Chen Changsheng.

“F-first, first—”

Xuan Di’s voice was almost too weak to hear. Those hollowed eyes stared tightly at the Green-Robed Gentleman before him.

“Sir…”

Chen Changsheng raised a hand. A light breeze steadied Xuan Di.

Stunned, Xuan Di tried to speak but couldn’t find the strength.

At his side, Wang Yu felt deeply worried. Yet he also wondered who this stranger was. He looked young—why did Master react so strongly?

Chen Changsheng asked, “How fares the mountain’s foot?”

Xuan Di strained to answer. But Chen Changsheng touched a finger to his forehead.

In a flash, Xuan Di felt his thoughts lift away to a wondrous place.

To his shock, the pain tearing through his mortal body instantly faded.

He looked down at his form. His hands passed right through each other.

Fear flashed in his eyes, then quickly calmed.

Xuan Di drew a long breath. “All is well,” he spoke. “Above the mountain, below the mountain.”

Chen Changsheng said, “I expected you to say it was all terrible.”

Xuan Di gave a tired smile. “When I first came down, I truly felt that way. Now, all seems just fine.”

Outside in the cave, Wang Yu stared dumbfounded.

“Master?” “Master?”

He yelled, yet his master didn’t wake. Panic set in.

He reached to shake the Green-Robed Gentleman.

But something threw him backward through the air.

Wang Yu landed hard. Shock filled his gaze.

Inside that empty void, Xuan Di felt true peace for the first time in years. Freed from his physical prison, relief brought tears to his eyes.

Chen Changsheng said, “You suffered much.”

“Consequences,” Xuan Di whispered. “Consequences of my own actions.”

“How so?” Chen Changsheng asked.

Xuan Di released a ragged breath. “Senior Brother craved wealth and power, twisting emperors to his whims. Junior Brother stayed true to Master’s teachings, guarding the Taoist Temple. And me… I got trapped. Trapped by my thirst for the Path of Longevity.”

“After leaving the mountain, I split from Senior Brother. The glamorous world flashed before my eyes. Living its emptiness revealed how shallow it all is—beauty crumbling to bone. Feeling death near, I rebelled against it. I sought the Great Dao of eternal life. First I stole ancient corpse-blood from a tomb of the Ancient Zombie. Then I forced it into my veins using Blood Arts. It stretched my life… but left me like this—neither man nor fiend.”

Chen Changsheng’s brow tightened. “Ancient Zombie…”

Over his long years, Chen Changsheng had seen Ghost Deities, monsters, even a True Dragon within the Mortal Realm. But “Zombies”? He’d never encountered one. He’d thought them mere myth.

Xuan Di nodded. “A cheat. Fake immortality. After, I could no longer bear sunlight. Death Qi seeped from skin forming corpse marks. Worse… the corruption gripped my mind. Human blood made my mouth water.”

“Only then did understanding hit me. How wrong I’d been.”

Chen Changsheng looked up. “What came next?”

“I chased a cure…” Xuan Di murmured. “I crossed ten thousand miles, begging an ascetic monk for a way to calm my mind. Later, aided by Senior Brother, I snatched a blood-training martial art scroll from Great Jing’s Library Pavilion. That barely bottled the Corpse Toxin.”

“The me you see now, sir, is actually… an improvement.”

Chen Changsheng sighed. “Back at Flowing Cloud Temple, I imagined joyful futures for you both—dying content beneath the mountain and sky. Yet both paths strayed.”

Xuan Di spoke softly. “Mr. Chen, life brings too much sorrow for anyone. A good end? It’s rare for mortals. You’re one who has attained immortality, like yourself. Could you vow your own ending will be peaceful?”

“I dare not,” Chen Changsheng said.

Xuan Di smiled faintly. “Just so. Mysteries you can’t solve… How could a nobody like me?”

“My regret runs deep. Waking up too late. Making the Path of Longevity my entire world. Taking all for granted. Had I known sooner, I might’ve left this life with a smile.”

Chen Changsheng watched him. “If reborn, would the ending truly change?”

Xuan Di paused, deep in thought, then sighed once more.

“Maybe not.”

Chen Changsheng gave a nod. “The clearer you see, the sharper the regret. Ignorance… often breeds more happiness.”

“Your words hold truth, sir,” Xuan Di agreed.

He didn’t press Chen Changsheng about immortality.

Long hardship had stripped Xuan Di’s obsession bare. Now, he cared only for his young disciple… and leaving this world with a shred of pride.

Xuan Di breathed slowly, a small burden lifting. “I never dared hope… to see you again as the darkness took me. What comfort this is.”

Chen Changsheng softly echoed his words. “Is it?”

“Of course,” Xuan Di insisted. “Old friendships reignite joy always.”

Chen Changsheng shook his head, wanting to speak but finding the words caught cold in his throat.

Sympathy? Yet what use was pity?

As Xuan Di said… All this sprung from his own choices.

His path. His thorns.

Chen Changsheng asked, “Craving immortality… Didn’t you once think to return to Flowing Cloud Temple? To find me?”

Xuan Di’s smile turned wry. “If I’d come chasing immortality, I never expected to meet you, sir. Would chasing emptiness help?”

He was right. By Chen Changsheng’s nature, the attempt would’ve been hopeless—or worse, led only to bitter disappointment.

“Was I wrong?” asked Xuan Di.

“You were not,” Chen Changsheng answered.

Part of Xuan Di mirrored Xuan Tian. Another part echoed Xuan Huang. Neither here nor there… He became the one stranded deepest.

Xuan Di’s weak laugh held resignation. “Then so be it. Besides… I left the mountain forever. What right have I to ask the mountain for shelter again?”