The Forbidden Path to Immortality

At first glance, there were shifting shadows under the trees, flowers clustered around clear springs. Aside from its refined stillness, it looked no different from the southeastern forest. Fresh chapters posted on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡⁂𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢⁂𝘯𝘦𝘵

The two of them stood on a high mountainside. From there, they could see ridge after ridge stretching out so far it seemed endless.

Mist drifted lazily through the valleys.

At first it just looked hazy and unclear, but the longer they stared, the more it felt as though the mountains themselves were moving with the mist, until it was impossible to tell north from south, east from west.

Moments ago they had been in the murky turbulent waters. Now they were in a place alive with birdsong and flowers. Even with steady hearts, the sudden change left them shaken.

Li Xun was the first to snap out of it.

“We’re probably still in the southeastern forests. That underwater passage must connect to this spring, and it carried us here.”

Shui Die Lan frowned. “What’s the deal with that passage? Is that really the entrance to Mist-Hidden Pavilion? That was far too rough a way to arrive...”

She directed the water to rinse the lingering mud from her body. It was plain she had not taken kindly to the turbulent whirlpool.

Li Xun gave a short laugh at her reaction. "The actual entrance wasn't like this. But when I broke through the gate using the Cloudmist Stone, I ended up destroying the portal in the process. We simply rode the resulting shockwave straight here." He glanced around. "I suppose this must be Mist-Hidden Pavilion... though I don't see what's so special about it."

“Is that so? That only shows you don’t know what to look at.”

Shui Die Lan rinsed her clothes clean, leapt out of the water, and recited with a teasing smile, “Mist veils the green mountain’s face, A hidden fragrance hints the place. Haven’t you noticed the scent in the air? This is the naturally born ‘Lost Fragrance.’ The aroma mingles with the mist, clouding the senses without one even realizing it. In other words, what you’re seeing now is half illusion, half real. It’s nothing more than a small trick in the art of illusion!”

At her words Li Xun snapped to attention. He immediately held his breath, sent his true breath through the Rainbow Shade Pearl, and suddenly the scenery all around him shifted.

It wasn’t a sweeping change as if the world itself had been remade. Instead, tiny details began to shift. The angle of sunlight, the shadows of the mountains, the shapes of trees. A dozen small changes, and before his eyes the whole scene was transformed.

There were still emerald peaks wrapped in rolling mist, but when he looked again, a corner of a flying eave appeared faintly in the distance. Blurred and indistinct as it was, at least it pointed them in a clear direction.

Shui Dielan chuckled softly. “There. That’s the true Mist-Hidden Pavilion. This place is only the legendary 'Stop-At-The-Forest.' Right now the Pavilion’s central restrictive formation haven’t been activated. Whoever enters first and awakens it will become the new master of the Mist-Hidden Pavilion.”

Li Xun’s expression grew solemn. This kind of illusion that blurs the line between real and unreal was the most troublesome of all. A single misleading detail could trap someone in it forever.

If combined with restrictive formations, its effect would be even more terrifying.

This time, it was thanks to Shui Die Lan that they had broken free.

Thinking of that, he turned his head. Their eyes met for a brief instant before each looked away again. The moment was delicate beyond words.

Earlier, when they had worked together with perfect trust, it was in the face of life and death, with no time to dwell on anything else. But now that the danger had eased, they had unconsciously carried that same life-and-death closeness into the present. The subtle atmosphere that resulted was something that simply couldn’t be explained.

Li Xun wasn’t used to this sort of feeling. Almost by reflex, he lowered his head and pulled out the Cloudmist Stone, avoiding further awkwardness.

But when their eyes fell on the stone, both of them froze in surprise.

The strange rock had completely changed in appearance.

Its glow was now drawn inward. What had been a half-transparent surface had turned a dull gray-white, and the ancient characters embedded within were blurred beyond recognition. Tossed on the ground, it would be indistinguishable from an ordinary stone.

Even so, Li Xun could still sense that its interaction with the outside world’s flow of qi was far denser and more intricate than before.

A cultivator well-versed in restrictive formations could find crucial clues in these seemingly chaotic qi fluctuations.

This opened his eyes to a whole new possibility: “So this is how this restrictive formation work; anchored through objects, like keys to a lock. Now that’s a method worth looking into.”

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of water splashing came from behind. Nether One’s tall, powerful figure emerged, carrying someone in his arms.

Shui Die Lan glanced over her shoulder and burst into laughter. “So you do have some feelings after all. You even bothered to rescue your little sweetheart! But did it ever cross your mind…”

“Fairy Shui!” Li Xun cut her off before she could say anything even more outrageous, his face showing a trace of displeasure.

But in the next instant, that trace of displeasure turned to something far worse.

His body wavered, and his face suddenly went an ashen gray. After pushing his potential in a way no different from drinking poison to quench thirst, the backlash had finally struck.

The Bottomless Nether Ring’s circulation had stalled, and the venom of the Crimson Snow Chaos seized the opening. It seeped through his pores and blood vessels into his meridians, riding the flow of blood and qi deeper into his organs.

He cast a glance at Shui Die Lan, as if he wanted to speak, but in the end he held his tongue. All he managed was a single call: “Nether One!”

Nether One answered at once. He set down Gu Pin’er, still unconscious, then helped Li Xun sit upright. Without another word, crimson light flared from his broad hand. The blood nightmare, hissing like a living thing, poured into Li Xun’s body to battle the invading poison.

Shui Die Lan watched Li Xun close his eyes, her expression growing faintly strange. She took a few steps around, yet no one paid her any mind.

Her gaze drifted back to Li Xun, scanning him from head to toe. The faint stirrings of true qi around her suggested she was gathering strength, readying herself for…

But in the end, she did nothing. She didn’t even move toward the Mist-Hidden Pavilion, which lay only a short distance away. Instead she sat down beside Li Xun, letting her eyes roam across the vast, boundless landscape. From time to time she turned to glance at his face, where alternating flushes of red and pallor marked the struggle within his body, and somehow she found her own quiet amusement in it.

No one knew how much time passed. As the sky began to dim, she heard Li Xun let out a long, drifting sigh. “From this day forward, this Grotto-Heaven belongs to you and me.”

In her ears, he had put particular weight on the words you and me, which brought a smile to her lips.

Li Xun’s color looked a little better by now, though a faint, unnatural flush lingered on his cheeks. Proof of how weak his body remained.

His voice, however, carried not the slightest trace of weakness. “What puzzles me,” he said, “is why you didn’t make a move just now.”

Shui Die Lan tilted her head to look at him. At last she gave a small smile. “Once or twice might be excusable. But back and forth like this over and over… if you’re not tired of it, I certainly am.”

Li Xun was taken aback, then quickly understood.

From the moment they had met, the two of them had swung between working side by side and plotting against each other. One moment they were close as comrades, the next they were at each other’s throats. Such constant reversals meant they could no longer truly trust one another, yet it also meant they could no longer summon the same sharp edge or killing intent they had at the very start.

Even so, understanding something in your head is one thing. Whether you actually go through with it when there’s real gain on the line? That’s another story. Was Shui Die Lan really the type to go softhearted?

Their eyes met again. Shui Die Lan gave him a playful wink. “You really are heartless. She’s been awake for quite a while; why are you still letting her lie on the ground?”

Li Xun’s face froze for a second, then he couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

Gu Pin’er rose silently from the creekside and walked to stand behind him, whispering, “I’m sorry.”

“Don't blame yourself. If you’d actually managed to fool the Hundred-Illusion Butterfly Demon, now that would have surprised me.” Li Xun smiled at her startled, endearing expression. He gave her arm an affectionate pat and gestured for her to sit at his other side.

The three of them sat side by side on the slope, with Nether One’s towering figure as their backdrop. Gazing at the drifting mists, they seemed almost to have set the Mist-Hidden Pavilion aside.

But had you observed from the front, you would have seen it clearly. Both Li Xun and Shui Die Lan were casting burning, unrelenting looks toward the faint outline of that distant, flying eaves.

As the sky darkened further, Li Xun let out a long breath, then rose to his feet. “Let’s go. Once we get there, we can discuss the details. How about it?”

Before Shui Die Lan could reply, she noticed Gu Pin’er rise like a shadow at Li Xun’s side, her eyes lowered, silent as ever. The sight drew a click of Shui Die Lan’s tongue and a murmur of admiration. “Does the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect truly have such powerful soul-controlling techniques?”

Li Xun frowned, not sure what she meant. But in the next moment Shui Die Lan’s uncanny blue lips curved into a smile, and she spoke the answer herself. “Earlier I couldn’t understand why you bothered to save her. Now I see. A little lapdog this obedient is rare indeed.”

Her words were biting, as expected. Yet it was her treating Gu Pin’er as if she didn’t even exist that cut the deepest.

Gu Pin’er might have lost all reason where her “beloved” Li Xun was concerned, but in every other respect she was undeniably an intelligent person.

Those words, sharp enough to pierce the heart, drained the last trace of color from her face the moment they reached her ears.

Shui Die Lan acted as if she hadn’t noticed. Her voice paused only briefly before she added with a gentle smile, “There’s just one thing I don’t understand… If she hadn’t gotten in, what would you have done?”

Gu Pin’er’s knuckles had already turned pale from how tightly she clenched her hands. Yet Li Xun gave no sign, and she dared not move in the slightest. Deep down, though, a restless urge stirred within her. She wanted to know what her “soul,” her “pillar,” her “only one,” her “god” would say.

Li Xun kept a silence that was nothing short of despairing.

Gu Pin’er lowered her gaze to the fresh green grass beneath her feet. Slowly, her hands began to relax. Sixty years ago, she had already learned how to turn despair into a wine sweet enough to intoxicate. This little matter wouldn’t trouble her for long. It wouldn’t…

Being able to breathe in his presence was enough.

In a daze, she never really heard how Li Xun answered. All she knew was that they had already started walking toward Mist-Hidden Pavilion, several dozen li ahead.

So she drifted after them, half-aware, catching fragments of voices without really listening. Until suddenly, Shui Die Lan said, “You know about what happened back then between Qixia and the Lin Ge, don’t you? What’s your take on it?”