My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting

Chapter 503 of 769

Chapter 503 – As Warm Snow Falls, the Six Kingdoms Rise; The Path of The Hero, A Bond Between Soul and Blade - Part 1

Chapter 503 – As Warm Snow Falls, the Six Kingdoms Rise; The Path of The Hero, A Bond Between Soul and Blade - Part 1

The wine was the poorest three-year-old Springwater Brew, but the people drinking it were full of laughter and smiles.

Li Yuan was still disguised as Ximen Gucheng. He didn’t linger. He simply downed a cup of wine, then rose and left.

After he had gone far, Zhao Chunxin suddenly spoke. “That man...he’s got some serious backing. And he's strong. I can’t see through him.”

Tie Sha and Fang Jianlong said nothing. They quietly sipped their drinks, but their movements slowed; they were listening now.

Zhao Chunxin lowered his voice. “He moved into that old house in Silver Creek.”

“What about the old house?” Tie Sha asked.

Zhao Chunxin's tone turned heavy. “Most people just think it’s a nice house. But someone like me, who's been around the Bladeseekers long enough, knows better. That place isn’t just the best in Silver Creek; it’s the best property in all of Gemhill County.

“It’s practically the only residence that consistently sits atop a branch vein of the third rank meat field. The others may brush up against a vein here or there, but nothing compares to that house. It’s been empty for years. But that man...he just moved in with his wife.”

“Then he must have connections that reach the heavens!” Fang Jianlong couldn’t help but exclaim.

“More than just the heavens.” Zhao Chunxin sighed.

“More than the heavens? Then what could he possibly be?” Fang Jianlong raised an eyebrow.

As they spoke, they suddenly noticed Tie Sha had gone quiet.

The bearded man, scarred from a lifetime of battle and just recently returned from exile, was staring at the road Li Yuan had taken, lost in thought.

Sensing the attention of his companions, Tie Sha came back to himself and chuckled. “You made him sound so impressive, I couldn’t help watching him a little longer.”

Fang Jianlong lowered his voice. “Sect Master, did you notice something?”

Tie Sha grinned. “Notice something? Nah. It’s just that something Zhao Chunxin said got me thinking... If it’s more than the heavens, then is it possible...”

His eyes narrowed. He’d always been the bold type, full of wild imagination. The kind of man who’d think of what others wouldn’t, no evidence needed, just instinct.

Zhao Chunxin couldn’t resist. “What are you thinking?”

The air thickened. Everyone held their breath.

Then Tie Sha burst out laughing. “Drink, drink!”

That did

not

sit well with the crowd of eavesdroppers.

Even Fang Jianlong, normally the serious type with a face like he carried a lifetime of sorrow, couldn’t help but say, “Come on, out with it already!”

Tie Sha laughed again. “I’m just talking nonsense. No need to say it out loud.”

Zhao Chunxin was clearly itching with curiosity. “Sect Master, come on. We’re practically all family by now. You tell us, and we’ll take it to our graves.”

Fang Jianlong glanced over at Zhu Qiao’er, then said in a low voice, “Spring nights are still chilly. Take Yun’er back inside.”

Zhu Qiao’er nodded and led the sickly boy away, slow and gentle.

Fang Jianlong turned back. “Say it, Sect Master.”

Tie Sha’s smile faded. “If it’s

more

than the heavens...what if he

is

the heavens?”

The words dropped like a thunderclap.

Fang Jianlong and Zhao Chunxin both froze.

Zhao Chunxin stammered, “No way. Impossible. Around here, the

Heavens

is Yan Yu.”

“...” Tie Sha didn’t reply. His eyes misted over, as if lost in memories buried deep, memories long forgotten, but suddenly clawing their way back.

“You mean...” Zhao Chunxin blinked. And then, slowly, she began to remember too.

White blossoms had been laid before the graves of Senior Li and Tang Qiu, silent offerings upon their weathered tombs. The headstones looked freshly cleaned, though no one had seen who had done it.

A mysterious patriarch had once passed down a powerful cultivation technique before vanishing into slumber. He later reemerged, not as a martial artist, but as a world-renowned weaponsmith. In time, he grew old, his hair turned white, and he left behind only a single, demonic sword—Sun and Moon Aloft.

And just when the world believed he had died quietly, strange things began to happen. One after another, events cropped up—subtle, suspicious, and all seemingly linked to him. This stirred the Lotus Cult, which still held dominion over the South at the time, into launching a sweeping investigation.

A portrait of Yan Yu was brought before a woman. She looked at it and shook her head.

“No idea who that is.”

But...did she really not recognize the person? That man, she could never forget him.

That man had already become a myth, a legend shrouded in secrets. Whether he was alive or dead, what he wanted, where he stood...these things had all drifted far beyond her grasp.

Zhao Chunxin's lips twitched. She was about to speak, but just then, a hand clapped her firmly on the shoulder.

Startled, she looked up to find Tie Sha staring at her with a solemn expression, slowly shaking his head.

Not far off, Fang Jianlong seemed lost in his own thoughts, a look of surprise flickering in his eyes.

“You and I are just pieces on the board. But him...

he’s

one of the people playing the game,” Tie Sha said. “So we absolutely cannot speak that name aloud. Besides...this is all just wild speculation. The more reason to keep it buried.”

Fang Jianlong and Zhao Chunxin both nodded, their faces grim. Then they lifted their eyes.

The peach blossoms around them had bloomed to their fullest, radiant and glorious. And through the gaps in the petals and leaves, the starlight spilled down like water from the sky. The sight stirred something in them both.

“Drink. Let’s drink.” Tie Sha raised his cup.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

The next evening.

Beneath the peach trees of Little Ink Village, Tie Sha sat alone, until he spotted that same white-robed figure walking past again. He hesitated a moment, then raised his hand and called out loudly, “Hey there, little brother! What a coincidence!”

Li Yuan turned to look, smiling. “Small world.”

Tie Sha stood up, scratching his head with a sheepish grin. “If you're not in a hurry...how about another drink?”

“I'd like that,” Li Yuan said.

In fact, that was exactly why he had come.

These days, he could crush a city without blinking. He could bring almost any power on the continent to its knees. He could wipe out sects he once wouldn’t have dared look in the eye.

But there was one thing he still found incredibly difficult, finding an old friend to sit down and share a drink with.

A long while back, he’d told Tie Sha to pay a visit to Cloudpeak Province and mention the name

Bubba.

But then the Sacred Fire Palace was annihilated, and the name

Bubba

had long faded into the annals of history.

Li Yuan pulled out a wooden chair and sat down.

Tie Sha poured him a drink, then poured one for himself. His hand trembled slightly.

Li Yuan laughed, snatched the jar, and gently pushed Tie Sha back into his seat. “I’ve got this.”

He filled Tie Sha’s cup to the brim.

Tie Sha sighed. “Springwater Brew is the best I’ve got to offer a guest like you. Good wine’s hard to find these days. Even if you’ve got the money, it doesn’t mean you can get it.”

Li Yuan lifted the cup to his nose and inhaled deeply. His expression turned dreamy, then he grinned. “Smells even better than that Springdream Brew.”

“Oh, come on...” Tie Sha chuckled. Still, he raised his own cup.

They clinked glasses and drained them. Then they went through two more jars. But of course, this kind of wine couldn’t possibly get martial artists of their level drunk.

Then, suddenly, Li Yuan pulled a small pouch from his sleeve and dropped it on the table with a soft

plop

.

“It’s burning heart flowers, a powdered form.”

“Ahh, I see.” Tie Sha nodded.

Li Yuan poured the powder into the last jar of wine.

Tie Sha didn’t ask any more questions; he just poured the wine and drank. When he was tipsy and grinning, he rubbed his hands together, gave a sloppy little bow, and said, “Brother, I’m gonna whip up a few dishes. Just drinking like this feels a bit shabby, not much of a host, am I?”

He leaned in, lowering his voice with mock secrecy. “Not to brag, but I’m a damn good hand at grilling meat. Back in Sacred Fire Palace, I played with fire every day. Say what you will, but when it comes to controlling heat, I’ve got it down to an art.”

He hadn’t bothered hiding his identity when he came into Gemhill County. The Sacred Fire Palace had never been an enemy of the South. In fact, it had perished fighting against the Lotus Cult. There was nothing to hide, so he spoke freely now, no hesitation.

Li Yuan nodded in acknowledgment.

Tie Sha turned and went inside. A moment later, he came back out carrying a homemade grill. Humming a little tune, he fetched the meat and got to work, slicing it, skewering it, setting it over the flame.

The scent of roasting meat drifted into the cool spring night, mingling with the mist that curled over the mountain air.

Not far away, Fang Jianlong, in the neighboring house, caught a whiff and instinctively moved to step outside.

But then he saw the figure sitting under the moonlight, the young man in white.

And suddenly...he couldn’t move.

His limbs stiffened. He had faced countless dangers in his life, countless powerful foes. But compared to the youth before him, all of that seemed like smoke and dust.

A strange, wordless fear welled up from within him. And then, mingled with it, a reluctant admiration.

Only Old Tie’s got the guts to sit there drinking with him.

Just as he was thinking this, the door of his house creaked open behind him.

A sickly young boy dashed out, calling, “Uncle Tie! Uncle Tie! I want some too!”

It was Yun’er, Zhu Qiao’er’s son.

Mother and son had traveled alongside Tie Sha for some time now. They were familiar faces in this neighborhood. It was practically a tradition; every time they came here, Yun’er would show up asking for grilled meat.

Fang Jianlong’s face twitched. He sighed, then braced himself and stepped outside.

Before long, Tie Sha brought a platter of sizzling skewers to the table. He was still grilling more, while Yun'er had already planted himself at the table and was digging in without a care in the world.

Compared to the carefree boy, Fang Jianlong sat stiff and awkward like a rock.

Li Yuan glanced over and asked, “Your son?”

Fang Jianlong slowly shook his head. Pain flickered through his eyes.

Tie Sha noticed. He handed a fresh batch of skewers to Yun'er and said gently, “Go on home now. Share some with your mom. It’s cold out here; don’t come back tonight.”

“Okay, Uncle Tie. Thanks a bunch!” the boy replied, grabbing the meat and darting off without fuss.

Tie Sha patted Fang Jianlong on the shoulder. “We’ve got some real wine tonight. Come on, drink and talk. We’ve hit it off with this old brother here. No need for secrets.”

“...” Fang Jianlong hesitated.

Then Li Yuan spoke, calmly, “The Lotus Cult? That’s all ancient history.”

“Y-you!?” Fang Jianlong nearly choked on air. His whole body trembled. He was gasping, lungs straining for breath.

This was his greatest secret. If anyone found out, his only way out would be death. And yet this man had said it as easily as commenting on the weather.

Li Yuan smiled slightly. “Old Tie told me.”

Tie Sha laughed loudly and clapped Fang Jianlong on the back. “Oops. My bad. Got a little carried away; heat of the moment, you know? It just slipped out.”

Fang Jianlong wasn’t a child. He took a deep breath, then another, until at last the trembling faded from his limbs. He was quiet for a long time.

Then he began to talk. Things he had never told another soul. And as he told them now—openly, plainly—it hit him.

It wasn’t such a big deal anymore. It had all passed.

“So no, Yun'er isn’t my son. He’s my enemy’s son. I killed his father. Killed his grandfather. Killed a good number of his relatives, too.”

Fang Jianlong let out a bitter laugh, a laugh full of self-mockery. “I know the saying.

If you don’t cut the roots, spring winds will bring the weeds back again.

But I just...I don’t want to kill him.The kid doesn’t know a thing. If one day he grows up and decides to take revenge, well...he’s welcome to come find me.”

Li Yuan patted him on the shoulder, then raised his cup.

Fang Jianlong hesitated, then raised his own.

The two of them drank in silence.

Tie Sha grinned. “We’ve been drinking this whole time, but I never even asked. What should we call you, old brother?”

Li Yuan replied, “Ximen Gucheng. A wandering blademaster. Only...I’ve forgotten how to use a blade.”

The truth was, the heart burning flower in the wine hadn’t affected him at all. But Tie Sha and Fang Jianlong were both clearly tipsy now.

And when people drank, they got bolder. Words came more freely.

“How’d you forget something like that?” Fang Jianlong asked.

Li Yuan’s thoughts turned inward...to the dense, tangled mass of ancestral seal seeds swirling inside his body.

Each one was different. Each a fragment of power. Together, they formed a lotus-like web of blades. In his early cultivation days, the raw collision of those forces gave him unimaginable power, an explosive strength that helped him bulldoze past most obstacles.

But now that he stood at the edge of the fourth rank, that chaotic force had begun to spiral out of control.

Without the ability to form a domain to contain it, all that power became too wild, too unstable. He no longer resembled a martial artist. His strength was more like that of a monster, like a Godzilla or King Kong from his past life.

At the core, the ancestral seal seeds were thoughts...fragments of will, intention, and memory.

So many competing thoughts crammed together had started to rot him from the inside. That sly, sinister glint in his eyes.. that subtle, involuntary cruelty...those weren’t just quirks. They were symptoms. The side effects of channeling this power for too long.

Thousands of thoughts flashed through his mind.

Then he simply said, “Nothing much. Just...a bit of a mess in the heart.”

He poured another round, filling each cup to the brim.

“It’s fine. Just little things. Let’s drink.”