Xu Xian departed, leaving behind five sets of withered bones, five sword spirits, and a half-sealed Sky Gate...
A century had passed before he saw the mortal realm again. The green mountains stood majestic, white clouds drifted leisurely, and the mountain gate remained, flourishing with life.
His Pupil of Insight opened, and his ears twitched. Everything happening within the thousands of peaks across the hundred-mile mountain gate entered his eyes and ears...
Li Qingshan, now at the ninth stage, had become the Sect Master. He looked troubled, his expression weary and his spirits low.
Wen Qingxue, at the eighth stage, had taken over Li Qingshan's former duties.
In the distant Ancestral Peak, a century had flown by. Kongkong was in the early seventh stage, while Chu Yi was in the middle seventh stage...
It wasn't slow,
But it couldn't be called fast either.
Yao Xiaoxiao was in the Baicao Residence. Her two-colored hair was gradually fading, turning silver-white once more, and her cultivation was approaching the great ascension stage.
Lu Yuan had entered the great ascension stage and seemed to have become a Pavilion Elder.
On Zhang Yang's Zhujian Peak,
He was merely at the nascent soul stage.
Lin Qianqian held a slight advantage, having already broken through to the nascent soul stage and stepped into the sixth stage...
In the nearby Ancestral Peak,
The auras of several senior brothers and sisters remained. The essence they had lost in the battle a hundred years ago had been mostly recovered over the century.
A look of gratification crossed the young man's brow, and he smiled faintly.
Silently and without a trace,
He left the sect.
Three hundred years to comprehend the Red Dust Dao:
One hundred years in the mortal realm,
One hundred years of teaching the Dao,
One hundred years of comprehending the Dao.
Everyone had their own understanding of it, and Xu Xian was no different.
One hundred years in the mortal realm—was it to live a mundane life just like a mortal?
For the Red Dust Tribulation,
Was it to forget the red dust?
Or was it to transform into a mortal and hide within it?
The answer? It was within the red dust; he would go there to find it...
After leaving the mountain gate of the Wendao Sword Sect, Xu Xian chose to walk, using his legs to measure the mountains and rivers beneath his feet.
The sun rose and the moon set, stars shifted, and seasons changed. After much wandering, Xu Xian returned to the place where his dream first began.
Houdao Village.
A century of vast changes had transformed the small village nestled in the mountains; it was no longer what it once was.
The village had become a small town with hundreds of households...
It was bustling and noisy.
Children meet him but do not know him; they smile and ask where the guest has come from.
The guest replied that he came from afar.
Walking through the small town, the youth had returned home, yet he did not know where his house was...
He found no old friends,
But he saw several lonely graves.
The old village chief's.
His parents'.
His younger brother Xiaoman's.
His older sister Xu Yue's.
Things remained, but the people had changed; his old kin had passed away...
Xu Xian sat before those graves for an entire night, his heart filled with complex emotions.
A hundred years—
To him, it was merely a nap.
But,
For those outside the mountains, an entire lifetime had already concluded.
Recalling the words the old village chief said when he returned years ago, and then thinking of what Wen Qingxue had said, Xu Xian finally understood.
The mountain bird and the fish do not share the same path; from now on, the mountains and waters shall not meet.
He did not feel too much sorrow,
Because he had known long ago that such a day would come.
Before,
He was unwilling to return because he feared seeing his father's and mother's backs gradually stoop, and he didn't want to see the wrinkles on his sister's face...
Now,
He had returned.
But he could no longer see them.
He asked around and learned a few things. After he and Chu Yi joined the sect, Houdao Village had enjoyed favorable weather year after year.
Under the silent protection of the Wendao Sword Sect, Houdao Village had become the Houdao Town of today.
The old village chief lived to be a hundred and twenty, passing away peacefully of old age.
His own parents had also lived for a century, passing away without illness.
After Chu Yi left, his sister never bore another child. For the rest of her life, she would often climb the back mountain, watching until her eyes grew weary. Even at the moment of her death, she was still concerned about her brother and daughter in the distance who had not returned.
Xu Xiaoman had many descendants, and the Xu family's lineage flourished.
By now,
They were already the largest clan in Houdao Town.
Among the tablets enshrined in the clan's ancestral hall, there was one that clearly bore the name Xu Xian.
According to the younger generation of the Xu family,
That was the old ancestor of the Xu family, an immortal on the mountain.
He was the Little Grand-Uncle of the Wendao Sword Sect, incredibly powerful beyond belief.
The youngsters also said,
Originally, the Xu family had another immortal enshrined there, but she was later claimed by the Xia family.
Even though
She also had Xu family blood in her veins, her surname was Xia after all.
They also said
It was only because the old clan head was easy to talk to and agreed to the Xia family's request. If it were them, they definitely wouldn't have agreed.
The old clan head
Referred to Xu Xiaoman.
Xu Xian smiled and said nothing.
"I say, young man, you look like a stranger. You're an outsider, right? Why are you so interested in our Xu family's affairs?" a sixty-year-old man asked curiously.
Xu Xian smiled slightly. "My surname is also Xu."
"Searching for kin?"
"You could say that."
"You're also from our Xu family?"
Xu Xian gazed at the ancestral hall before him and gave a soft hum of affirmation.
"Oh my, look at that! The flood has washed away the Dragon King's temple—family members failing to recognize their own! Quick, tell me, who was your father? And your grandfather?"
"And what is your name?"
The old man became even more enthusiastic.
A century of changes,
Houdao Village had become Houdao Town, and the Xu family had grown from a family of three into a large clan of hundreds.
The sect's descendants had spread their roots, marrying and having children.
Among the younger generations of the clan,
There was naturally no shortage of those who went out to make their way in the world.
Some went out to do business, some traveled far for studies, and some went up the mountains to seek the Dao...
Over time,
It was natural for some to be left outside, starting families and having children.
After a century had passed,
It was not uncommon for their juniors to come from afar, returning to the village to seek their kin.
Xu Xian was not the first,
And naturally, he would not be the last.
Xu Xian did not lie, but he gave an ambiguous answer.
The old man didn't press for details. He felt that Xu Xian looked dignified and carried an air of righteousness; he must surely be a member of the Xu family.
Only the Xu family could produce such an outstanding youth.
There was no doubt about it.
The old man warmly invited Xu Xian to stay, treating him with good food and drink.
Finding it hard to refuse such hospitality,
Xu Xian agreed.
After all,
If one calculated by seniority, this sixty-year-old man would have to call him 'Great-Great-Grandfather.'
With a generation every twenty years, it had been a hundred and twenty years since he left home; the Xu family already had more than six generations.
The old man was named Xu Heng.
He had a young granddaughter named Xu Buyou.
She called Xu Xian 'Big Brother.'
After that night, Xu Xian planned to settle down in Houdao Town.
A century in the mortal realm—
It would be the same anywhere.
So why not right here in Houdao Village?
He wanted to see, and he also wanted to experience, how those he once cared about had spent their lives in this ordinary small village.
He sealed his own dantian and sea of qi, cutting off the flow of spirit qi. He let the little book spirit fall into a deep sleep and transformed himself into a mortal.
He cordoned off a piece of land on the back mountain and built a house there.
He chopped wood,
Dug the soil,
Cleared farmland,
And went down to the river to catch fish.
Xu Buyou often went up the mountain to bring him food, and they got along very well.
His fair skin became tanned dark by the sun.
His delicate palms developed calluses.
Stubble began to appear on his handsome face.
That once-elegant youth who had inquired of the world with his sword had, unknowingly, turned into a sturdy laboring man amidst the weathering of time.
Xu Xian delighted in it, remaining detached from the world.
Through labor, he gained insight into the red dust,
And beneath the stars and moon, he pondered over life.
The red dust has a hundred forms,
Each year brings its own wind and mist.
He bonded with the villagers, integrating into the small town, into the mortal world...
Aside from not marrying or having children, he was no different from anyone else.
Three years,
Ten years,
Twenty years.
Xu Xian went from a young man to a middle-aged man. The old man passed away, and Xu Xian saw off an entire generation.
The little girl of the past, Xu Buyou, grew up, started a family, and got married.
Then she had children.
The children called him 'Uncle.'
And he went from the handsome youth in people's mouths to a well-known old bachelor.
The mundane world was just like that.
One could not escape the gossip that echoed during tea and after meals.
Xu Xian, naturally, did not care.
He found it interesting.
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