Drunkenness leaves one unaware of the night's passing; an inch of time is worth an inch of gold...
The cycle of growth and decay of plants marked another year. Spring turned to autumn, and autumn turned to winter. Upon waking, there was the bright moon; after drinking, there was the clear wind. Xu Xian wandered through the mortal world.
He returned to the East Desolation, visited the Central Plains, fished by the shores of the North Sea, and flirted with girls along the banks of Jiangnan.
He walked through the world, past distant mountains and hidden waters, through the scenery of the four seasons, where the green mountains remained unchanged.
He lived a life of elegant freedom.
Following the ships of the Merchant Hall, he went out for procurement, took on missions, headed into the mountains to suppress bandits, witnessed cultivators in battle, and observed scholars in poetic duels.
He even found time to explore a few grotto-heavens.
The progress bar for the Sword Tower was increasing at a snail's pace.
It was very slow.
Many times, Xu Xian felt that his future was bleak.
Just how long would it take to save up enough?
A hundred years...
A thousand years...
Ten thousand years...
There was really no telling. With good luck, he might encounter a few powerful evil cultivators, kill them in secret, and obtain a few items. With bad luck, he might go ten days or half a month without any gain.
Just like that, two years flashed by while Xu Xian was in the mortal world.
During that time.
He even made a trip back to the Demon Abyss.
Huang Xiao was doing quite well; he had earned several hundred items for Xu Xian in two years, making the trip worthwhile.
Fanzhou was still the same Fanzhou, and the Wendao Sword Sect was still the same Wendao Sword Sect, though some interesting things had happened in the meantime.
For instance, in a certain year, the Daoist sects of the Central Plains sent an invitation, inviting the younger generation of the Wendao Sword Sect to participate in a martial arts assembly in the Central Plains.
In the Central Plains.
Every ten years, the Three Sects would lead the way in organizing a duel between the younger generation.
First, it was to showcase their own strength to the outside world.
Second, it served as a form of experience for the juniors.
There were prizes for winning, but the most important thing was gaining a resounding reputation.
Although the Wendao Sword Sect was within the ranks of the Seven Schools, in previous years, the Three Sects had selectively forgotten them for such competitions.
And the Wendao Sword Sect had also disdained such duels between cultivators.
For some reason, they had actually invited the Wendao Sword Sect to participate this year.
How strange!
This was a signal; the Central Plains was extending an olive branch to the Wendao Sword Sect.
There was no helping it; in recent years, the brilliance of the Wendao Sword Sect had become far too dazzling.
The competition required that disciples under twenty years of age could participate.
Ye Xianyu had consulted Xu Xian, asking for his opinion on the matter. Xu Xian, naturally, spoke the truth.
The Central Plains clearly knew they couldn't win, so they wanted to invite them in.
They wanted the Wendao Sword Sect to join their circle, as they were all part of the human race after all.
Ye Xianyu asked Xu Xian if he wanted to go. If he did, she would have him lead the team and take Chu Yi and Kongkong along.
Xu Xian refused, feeling it was too childish.
It was quite pointless.
The Wendao Sword Sect was different from other sects; they never lacked actual combat experience, so participating in such a competition was meaningless.
Xu Xian always believed that cultivation served two purposes.
First: to keep oneself from dying.
Second: to kill others.
Either do not act, or act with lethal intent. This kind of house-playing competition for children was better left alone.
Besides.
Kongkong and Chu Yi were now quite famous.
If they really went to the Central Plains, with the mountains being high and the roads long, who knew if some accident might occur.
One must remember that back then, he had nearly been killed even within the territory of the Wendao Sword Sect.
Although.
In the world today, there were likely few who dared to oppose the Wendao Sword Sect, but that did not mean there were none.
What if a few lunatics decided to act?
After all those reasons, it ultimately came down to the fact that the rewards for the competition hosted by the Daoist sects were mediocre.
Just a few heaven weapons...
To be honest, instead of making a special trip, Xu Xian would rather pick up his hammer and forge them himself. It was hardly impressive.
If they had offered a hundred or so immortal plants, Xu Xian would definitely have gone.
The world was a bustling place, and everyone moved for the sake of profit.
Xu Xian had always been realistic.
If possible.
He wanted to continue being this realistic forever.
...
Late at night, Xu Xian had nothing to do and planned to forge a sword. He thought about adding a few more heaven weapons to the sect's collection while honing his craft.
However, he saw a white light illuminate the distant horizon.
The movements of his hands instinctively stalled, and he lifted his eyes to look.
The little book spirit was drawn out and emerged from his mind, perched on his shoulder.
The disciples and ancestors in the mountains were all the same.
They saw the dark night suddenly brighten, its light obscuring the stars and moon, turning the world white for a moment.
It was as if dawn had broken early.
Xu Xian said suspiciously, "Hmm... what is this?"
The little book spirit's eyes were deep as it whispered, "What a massive undertaking."
Xu Xian was puzzled and was about to ask further, but he didn't expect the receding light to surge into the firmament before bursting forth like fireworks in a magnificent display.
Then, phosphorescent light fell like a curtain of rain.
Afterward, the remaining light gathered, intertwining and crisscrossing.
Finally, it transformed into rows of large characters that fell toward the world and hung high in the sky...
It wasn't just in one place. Xu Xian looked around; in the four corners of the sky—east, south, west, and north—large characters were suspended.
It was as if a divine being in the heavens had swept a brush across the world, writing rows of heavenly script.
The mountains and fields shook, and the sect was in an uproar as startled cries rose up.
"What is that?"
"Are you blind? Those are words..."
"Who did this?"
"Is this... the work of an immortal?"
Xu Xian furrowed his brows and said nothing. The little book spirit was deep in thought, its small face pinched.
Four directions of the firmament, four directions of suspended script.
Beast script in the east, demonic script in the west, human script in the south, and monster script in the north.
Although the forms were different, the content written was exactly the same.
This was certainly no coincidence.
Was it truly written by an immortal?
Or was it the true words of the Great Dao?
Or was someone playing tricks?
But with such a massive commotion, who in Fanzhou could achieve this?
In the North Sea.
One by one, demon immortals woke from their slumber, either looking up from the deep sea or gazing from the mountain peaks.
The sea breeze blew gently, and the characters were bright and clear.
Yet every word struck directly at the soul.
"One of the variables."
"So, it was true..."
"After waiting so long, it has finally arrived."
Shock and realization played across the faces of the demon immortals.
In the Demon Abyss.
The heavenly demon race, earthly demon race, mortal demon race, low-level demons, and even the demon gods... at this moment, regardless of bloodline, they all looked at the same sky.
Those who were illiterate asked what was written.
Those who were literate could not stop their cries of shock.
In the Nether Hall.
The high and low priests, Chi Ji, and Huang Xiao also saw this scene. They stepped out of their rooms and stood frozen on the spot.
In the Central Plains, the scene was exactly the same...
People peered at the sky as if witnessing a miracle. The peaceful Divine Moon Pool suddenly surged with turbulent waves.
The beast roars of the past reappeared, filled with joy and excitement.
Bai Ze, dressed in white, stood atop a tree. He lowered his long brows and spat out two words.
"Emperor's Tomb!"
In the Wendao Sword Sect, Jiang Wanyin also uttered the same two words.
"Emperor's Tomb!"
...
"Emperor's Tomb!!"
"Emperor's Tomb!!!"
For the vast majority of living beings in Fanzhou, it was an unfamiliar term.
What was an Emperor's Tomb?
The tomb of an emperor?
Clearly, that was not it...
Then what qualified as an 'Emperor'?
What was the definition of an 'Emperor'?
In all of Fanzhou, very few knew.
The little book spirit was one, and Xu Xian was another.
Of course, there was also Lu Yuan.
At Zuiwan Residence, Lu Yuan clicked his tongue. "Tsk tsk, who would have thought that a tiny place like Fanzhou would actually hide an Emperor's Tomb?"
Li Qingshan appeared abruptly and asked just as suddenly:
"What is an Emperor's Tomb?"
"..."
The little book spirit responded in a low voice by Xu Xian's ear.
"The tomb of an Immortal Emperor is called an Emperor's Tomb."
...
Li Qingshan was puzzled, his trance deepening. "An Immortal Emperor?"
...
Xu Xian's brow furrowed even deeper as he murmured, "It is a Sovereign..."
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