I have Immortality In The Cultivation World

Zhou Yi retracted the treasured cauldron, and circled the courtyard twice.

There are many places in the world where the dead are numerous, such as the Mass Burial Mound outside Divine Capital City, heaped with countless corpses of refugees. It’s said that the wild dogs nearby have eyeballs red as ghastly ghosts.

The prison often sees death, and there’s a designated spot for handling corpses.

Over the years, it’s turned into a massive burial pit.

With twenty or thirty corpses buried in the courtyard, it still pales in comparison to those two places; yet, oddly enough, this place has fostered the transformation of souls into malevolent spirits.

“The only difference between those places, shrouded in shades and seldom trodden by humans, and this courtyard… could it be my presence?”

Zhou Yi, modest and cautious, was not foolishly unaware. The Guiyuan Technique was a cultivation technique that drew spiritual energy from the surroundings into the body, potentially causing profound changes.

“I should buy another courtyard for cultivation. This place could be shown to outsiders, also serving to conceal my identity.”

This malevolent spirit had already dissipated into ash, but who’s to say it wouldn’t condense again? If by chance it attacked quietly and possessed me while I was deep in my cultivation, it would be most unfortunate.

One must always be cautious, avoiding a few years at the Spring Breeze Building, and hence saving the silver needed to purchase a courtyard!

At this moment.

The sound of someone using qinggong to travel through the air approached; a middle-aged man in a white robe floated into the courtyard upon the moonlight, with his clothes billowing in the breeze, holding two jars of wine in one hand and fanning himself with a white paper fan in the other.

The winter wind was bitingly cold.

Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow, “You’ve arrived quite swiftly, you rascal!”

“Jin Yu came looking for me, saying an old Taoist had arrived.”

“After all these years, and you cultivating that nefarious technique, I thought you might have died somewhere,” said Lao Bai.

“The time spent in seclusion was for altering one’s foundation, to slightly recover some lifespan.”

Zhou Yi gave a half-true reason, “Chen Ya’er isn’t bad, but if she had believed my words upon just one meeting, then she shouldn’t try her luck in the Jianghu, lest she casually loses her life outside.”

“It’s Jin Yu, which signifies the beauty of jade! I specially sought a scholar from the Imperial Academy to choose the name,” said Lao Bai as he poured two bowls of wine.

“Ever since you left Divine Capital, I couldn’t find another soul to drink merrily with!”

Zhou Yi laughed, “The legendary Thief Saint, known for having friends all over the world, able to summon countless upon a single call in the Jianghu.”

“It’s different now; having left the Jianghu, I mustn’t associate with it too closely.”

Lao Bai shook his head and sighed, harboring nostalgia for the carefree past, but even more so, relief and contentment.

“Then I shall drink with you until we’re old!”

Zhou Yi and Lao Bai had met in prison, and in the blink of an eye, more than twenty years had passed. He had long realized that this rascal was much like him.

Lao Bai seemed reckless and audacious, having stolen many treasures, but in reality, he was meticulous in petty affairs, fundamentally sharing Zhou Yi’s cautious nature. There were countless qinggong experts in the Jianghu, and many were known for their sleight of hand, but only Lao Bai earned the illustrious title of Thief Saint.

It was because the others were not meticulous and cautious, eventually meeting their downfall.

The only mishap for Lao Bai arose when he raided a Commandery Prince’s manor and ended up caught, imprisoned for life.

Lao Bai shook his head, waved his hand to remove the disguise from his face, revealing crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, and his complexion was no longer as handsome, replaced by a breath of weathered hardship.

“We have aged!”

At fifty, one recognizes their heavenly fate, relishing life free of worries and viewing honor and disgrace with detachment. In that era, they were considered old!

Lao Bai was two years older than Zhou Yi, now nearing sixty, on the verge of ‘hua ji’ (turning 60 years old).

Zhou Yi, lost in thought, watched as his few remaining friends aged, and drained the bowl of wine in one gulp.

“Young warriors of the Jianghu become elderly too!”

“Old Zhou, where did you learn such melancholic poetry? Even at this age, I am the heartthrob of thousands, with many female heroes admiring me, coming specially to Divine Capital City to pay respects,” Lao Bai boasted nonchalantly.

“The truth is that you, old man, will never find a wife!”

“Admiration? I think it’s more like paying homage!”

Zhou Yi sneered, “With your philandering ways, you’ve even brought home the demoness from the Devil’s Sect; how can the Commandery Princess tolerate it?”

Lao Bai, with an impish grin, replied, “Heh heh! It wasn’t my doing; it was Rong Chang who initiated the proposal.”

“Keep blowing that trumpet!”

Zhou Yi retorted, “With all your prowess, why haven’t we seen that great sword sect elder sister of yours?”

“Shu Wan is shy; she doesn’t like coming to the Capital.”

Lao Bai said helplessly, “I can only visit Boundless Mountain once a year, for a couple of months. After all, she is a Sect Leader of a reputable and righteous sect; I can’t let her be a concubine in my house.”

“…”

Zhou Yi stifled the urge to smash Old Bai to death with a cauldron; every time they discussed women, he would end up utterly crushed.

No matter how enchanting the oiran of Spring Breeze Building were, they couldn’t compare to the female sect leader of the sword school, the holy maiden of the demon sect, or the noble ladies from prominent families… Although their appearances might be on par, the sense of conquest brought about by their status was as different as clouds are from mud!

“How have the Imperial Court affairs changed over the years? Is Chancellor Zhang dead yet?”

Zhou Yi awkwardly changed the subject, comforting himself that when Old Bai was too old to move, he would then seek him out to talk about the beauties of the world.

“During the third year of Emperor Jinglong’s reign, Chancellor Zhang died in office, posthumously titled Wenzhong. His Majesty paid his respects by following the cortege.”

Old Bai said, “As for the rest, nothing much has happened over the years. His Majesty is young and strong, and his temperament is mild, so the officials all say that he has the makings of Emperor Zhongzong.”

“Mild? You mean weak, don’t you!”

After emerging from his retreat, Zhou Yi had already learned the outcome of the peace negotiations at the Northern Border. Not only did they cede territory and pay indemnities, but Emperor Jinglong actually set aside his pride and personally escorted the remains of the enemy prince from the ancestral temple.

It was precisely because of this that Chancellor Zhang was able to quickly draft the peace agreement!

Old Bai said, “Weakness isn’t so bad, His Majesty has been on the throne for ten years and has yet to execute any member of the Nine Clans, everyone’s living quite well.”

“Fengyang Country has produced two outstanding figures consecutively, Wu Zhong and Wen Zhong, who have turned the tide of degeneracy. It seems the National Dynasty won’t collapse anytime soon.”

Zhou Yi bore no resentment towards Fengyang Country, simply commenting as an onlooker.

Even if heaven and earth were to change, it would just mean a different set of people becoming emperor. As that person said back then, the scholars are so corrupt that no one can govern them, and there wouldn’t be any less corruption or injustice.

The two old men, reuniting after ten years, had an endless stream of conversations fueled by alcohol.

When they got to the topic of the corpse in the courtyard, a sly look appeared on Old Bai’s face.

“Old Zhou, do you know who this person is?”

“Since you’re enjoying my misfortune, it can’t be a petty thief taking a shortcut, could it be…”

Zhou Yi realized, “A member of the Zhou family?”

“You’re too cunning, how boring!”

Old Bai said, “Two years after you left, this courtyard became known as a haunted house. Strange screams would be heard at night, and most of the neighbors were scared away.”

Zhou Yi nodded, “Indeed, there was a vicious ghost, which I just slapped to death!”

“…”

Old Bai was speechless for a moment and couldn’t help asking, “Old Zhou, just how high is your martial skill?”

Zhou Yi shrugged, “About as high as three or four stories!”

Old Bai asked again, “So, what floor am I on?”

Considering the gap between them, Zhou Yi replied truthfully, “You’re probably three or four floors underground.”

“Let’s continue talking about the haunted house…”

Old Bai had little interest in pursuing martial arts when he was young, practicing qinggong was firstly for looking dashing and secondly for fleeing to save his life; at this age, his competitive spirit has dwindled even further.

“Five years ago, the Zhou family got wind that you had died outside, so they came to the Capital to take over the house. They ended up harmed by the fierce ghost. That person was your cousin once removed, I think his name was Zhou Fang.”

“They got what they deserved.”

Zhou Yi had long since divided the family assets, and legally, the Zhou family had no right to inherit his property.

“I’ve already had it taken care of.”

Old Bai said, “Don’t stay in seclusion too long next time, lest you can only talk to me by burning paper offerings.”

“Got it!”

Zhou Yi nodded slightly.

Afterward, the conversation spanned from the imperial court to the martial world, from the southernmost tip to the far north, only ending when the cock crowed thrice signifying the coming of dawn.

“How many times in life can one experience such unrestrained joy!”

Old Bai stood up to leave, never using the main entrance but instead leaping up and flying away from the top of the wall.

Zhou Yi stood in the courtyard for a long while, sighing deeply.

“A single day in the mountains, a thousand years in the world!”

Now merely at the threshold of the path to immortality, closing off to the world for decades at a time, and if his cultivation were to go deeper, one session of seclusion could span several generations of life and death in the mortal realm.

Waving his hand, mana ground the skeleton to dust, scattering it under the jujube tree to serve as fertilizer.