Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

At least Zhuang Xing couldn't do that. His cultivation was far inferior to that of the stone carver, as if there was a high mountain cliff blocking his way.

It's not that we can't see the hope of overcoming it, but to cross the mountain, we have to go through hundreds or thousands of trials and tribulations, and pay ten or a hundred times more blood and sweat.

One must be single-minded and focused on the Dao in order to hone such sword intent through countless trials and tribulations.

"What kind of life is that exactly?"

He couldn't believe it; he was amazed by the sword intent, yet also felt sorrow.

Because the price behind it is unbearable for ordinary people, and it makes people afraid to even look at it.

...

At sunset.

By the gently flowing stream, Zhuang Xing finally found the person he was looking for.

You have to concentrate to notice him. He is wearing a straw hat and a raincoat, lying under a tree. Although his clothes do not match the surrounding environment, he seems to be one with nature. He is present in the wind and water, or rather, it is as if the wind and water have become him.

He gives people the feeling of being like the clouds in the sky and the soil on the ground.

It's as if he is a part of heaven and earth.

If an ordinary person walked by, they would probably just think there was nothing under that tree and walk straight past.

Like that sparrow, it landed on that straw hat, preened the feathers on its wings, and only when it saw Zhuang Xing did it turn its head, flap its wings, and fly away.

Zhuang walked up to the tree, and the person under the straw hat looked up, his eyes filled with confusion.

Zhuang Xing didn't explain anything. The first thing he did was take out a very old bronze plaque from his pocket.

He handed over the bronze plaque, and the man reached out and accepted it. He looked at the words on the plaque for a long time.

“Its brothers are all dead, but it is still waiting for you. It’s just that it’s no longer on that mountain. I took it down the mountain and brought it to the residence of the Immortal Physician. I entrusted it to the Immortal Physician’s care. You know that place. You should have gone back a month ago and picked a sprig of magnolia flower.”

The man put the sign away, his eyes still filled with confusion.

Zhuang Xing paused, then drew his sword.

“You may be curious about my background, and I certainly have no intention of hiding it, but we are both swordsmen, so I would like to speak to you with my sword first.”

"I hope you will have a match with me."

The man glanced at Zhuang Xing, and their eyes met. He didn't say anything, but simply nodded, took off his straw hat, and removed his raincoat.

His hair was very long, much longer than Zhuang Xing's. It was obvious that he hadn't taken care of himself in a long time, but he didn't look haggard or disheveled. Everything looked so natural, so natural that it made people feel comfortable, as if he were an old friend.

He put down the sword he was carrying and picked up a dry branch from the ground.

That sword... Zhuang Xing recognized it; it was the sword of the female knight-errant, the sword of Yan Huai'an.

"Aren't you going to use that sword?" Zhuang Xing asked.

He shook his head, which was strange. He didn't say anything, but Zhuang Xing understood what he meant.

He merely carried the sword with him; in reality, he never used it. The sword was no longer important to him; a twig or a withered leaf could both serve as his sword.

He didn't hold back, nor did he look down on Zhuang Xing; he was truly giving it his all.

The sword intent within those withered branches was completely different from the murderous intent Zhuang Xing had witnessed in that great dream; the withered branches had even sprouted tender buds.

Zhuang Xing exclaimed in admiration, once again realizing the vast gap between himself and the person in front of him.

However, it was merely a sigh; a smile appeared on his face, and he cupped his hands in a gesture of respect:

Please advise.

...

At Qingxuan Mountain, a haggard Yunling returned to the mountain gate.

Her hair was messy, her eyes were swollen and red, and it was clear she had been crying.

She hadn't cried in a long time, but she didn't know what to do. A month had passed, and she couldn't find Zhuang Xing anywhere. In the first few days, she was able to maintain a calm state of mind, but now she couldn't fall asleep at all; every time she closed her eyes, she was plagued by nightmares.

Yunling told herself that Zhuang Xing would definitely be alright. He was very capable, and he had always been much more capable than her. No matter what difficulties they encountered, he would definitely be able to handle them. He would definitely come back. Maybe he would suddenly appear tomorrow, smiling and saying, "Could you make me some tea? I'm a little thirsty."

But she still couldn't help but recall those things that had long faded from her heart, that night, the moment her father closed the cellar door, and the terrible darkness that enveloped her.

She never wanted to see such a thing happen again. All these years she had worked hard to cultivate her skills and devoted herself to studying magic, all to avoid a tragedy like that day.

She doesn't want to see anything happening to her or to others, whether it happens to her or someone else.

Today she returned to the mountain gate to resign from her post.

She wanted to leave Qingxuan Mountain and go somewhere else. Daoist Qingxuzi went with the two boys and Yan Huai'an to find Yinglong. She wanted to go to Baihua Valley and the palace to find someone to help her.

She was going to Yidu to find the demon race, and she would go to any place she could think of where she could seek help.

What one person cannot do, two people can do; this is what Yunling learned from Zhuang Xing.

Actually, she doesn't like to rely on others, because it makes her feel like she hasn't grown up yet.

But none of that mattered at that moment. She stepped through the mountain gate and headed up the mountain.

It was at this moment that she heard the voice she had been eagerly anticipating day and night.

"Yunling, can you hear me?"

She paused for a moment, then looked around.

The sound seemed to be coming from all directions, making it impossible to pinpoint its location; it was like...an illusion...

As she hesitated, the voice came again.

"Yunling, Yunling..."

The voice called to her softly, gently and dreamily.

The emotions she had been suppressing for days surged forth from her heart, so intensely.

Then she heard the sound of a sword being swung, something being cut open, and something connecting with her.

Her true qi instinctively began to circulate in a rhythm, a skill she had learned from the mural: the ability to shrink the distance between two points.

This supernatural power was fundamentally different from any other magic she had ever seen. It wasn't something she had learned later; rather, it was something that existed naturally within her, like breathing or a pulse, ever since she and Zhuang Xing had seen the mural.

She hadn't forgotten what she was thinking that day. As a young girl, she stood trembling on that flying sword, clinging tightly to the waist of the person in front of her, thinking, "I absolutely cannot let go, I absolutely cannot fall off that sword."

Is that really the case?

What she truly wanted was not to fall off the sword, but to stay connected with the person on it.

The true purpose of this supernatural ability is not to "shrink the earth to an inch," but to allow her to reach that person's side.

And at that moment she suddenly realized that she could not only reach that person's side, but also bring him to her side.

She immediately calmed her mind and held onto the feeling tightly.

It was as if she had a rope in her hand, but the thing tied to the end of the rope seemed to weigh a ton, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't pull it.

She still seems to be that weak little girl who struggles to even carry a basin of water.

She was impatient, but suddenly, the "rope" became light again.

It was as if an adult was standing behind her, helping her pull the rope.

After a stifling, pulling sensation, she stumbled, and something bumped into Yunling's arms.

That was Zhuang Xing, dressed in Taoist robes and looking travel-worn.

Zhuang Xing looked at the girl in front of him and let out a long breath.

He patted his chest, took Yunling's hand, stood up, and looked around.

He was standing on the bluestone steps, not the overgrown bluestone steps, but the well-maintained bluestone steps.

Before me are budding maple trees, not the crimson hues of late autumn.

His heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled down. He knew that he had returned.

Before he could even feel happy, the girl threw herself into his arms.

She was silent, but two tear tracks rolled down her cheeks.

She sobbed softly, holding the person in front of her tightly.

Seeing her haggard appearance, Zhuang Xing sighed softly, gently patted her back, and wiped away the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"I am back."

"Ah."

...

Half a month later.

Xuanqing Temple, Qilu Studio.

Zhuang Xing sat at the tea table and carefully recounted the events of that day to the old Taoist priest who had just returned.

"This is the stone I obtained from that senior." Zhuang Xing took out the blue stone.

Qingxuzi picked up the stone and examined the man carved on it closely.

After examining him for a moment, the old Taoist said, "This person is not an old acquaintance of mine, but could it be that you were able to find your way back because of his help?"

"I guess I owe it to that senior for his help," Zhuang Xing said. "I stayed in his room for three days. During those three days, I racked my brains and finally came up with some ideas."

"What's the situation?"

"It was that strange dream that had been bothering me for days. After I went to that mural, I finally saw everything. But I still had a question in my mind: why did I have to go to that mural to see everything? I felt there must be some reason for this. So I thought, perhaps, that person had also been to that mural before me, or perhaps he went to that mural before me, which is why I was able to see those dreams."

"Judging from the extraordinary encounters of myself, Bai Shu, and Yun Ling, going to the painting will surely grant one some kind of supernatural power, but it can probably only be obtained once. Bai Shu found the painting very early on. It can move freely underground and has walked through the painting countless times, but it only learned the method of storing things. So it is normal that I did not gain any more supernatural powers when I went to see the painting a second time."

"But in contrast, the person who was ahead of me must have gained some kind of supernatural power after seeing the mural."

"To verify my guess, I set out to look for him after I left the mountain."

"Have you found him?" the old Taoist priest asked.

“Found it.” Zhuang Xing nodded. “Along the way, I found that many villagers worship a deity called ‘Demon-Subduing Saint Lord’. Legend has it that the Saint Lord descended from heaven to earth and eliminated demons in various places. If a demon’s body is separated from its body, you can find a stone with the words ‘Demons have been eliminated’ carved on it. That was the work of the Saint Lord.”

“The people firmly believe in this, but I discovered that the sword intent on those enshrined stones is something I have seen before.”

"Could it be..." The old Taoist priest thought of something but didn't say it aloud, waiting for Zhuang Xing to continue.

“It’s the sword intent I saw in my dream.” Zhuang Xing nodded. “I understood after looking at those stones. The so-called ‘Demon-Subduing Saint Lord’ is the sword immortal who slew the tiger in Jiangnan back then. It’s just that he no longer appears in front of people. No one sees him anymore, so they think he is a god who has descended to earth to save people from suffering.”