During one of the days of his seclusion in Houdao Village...
A guest arrived at Xu Xian's home—an old friend.
"Xu Xian."
"Senior!"
"Do you plan to stay here forever?"
"Perhaps..."
"It's quite nice." Tu Sisi sat on the grass, gazing at the moon from the mountain peak as her eyes shimmered with a soft light. "Did he... say anything?"
Xu Xian feigned ignorance. "Who?"
Tu Sisi looked straight ahead, speaking to the moon. "Having been a mortal for twenty years, has your memory become so poor?"
Xu Xian shook his head with a smile, his words carrying a deep meaning. "It has been a hundred and twenty years. I thought you no longer cared, Senior."
Taibai had departed, and a hundred and twenty years had flown by in an instant.
After he had challenged the world with his sword,
Xu Xian had stayed in the sect for several days.
Tu Sisi had not come then.
He had originally thought she would.
As it turned out,
she did come eventually.
It wasn't exactly late; a mere century was but a fleeting moment compared to the long ten thousand years she had waited.
Tu Sisi's eyes dimmed as she murmured, "Yes, another hundred years have passed. I also thought... I no longer cared..."
Xu Xian said nothing. For the first time in twenty years, he stirred his immortal power. From the Divine Sword Pool, he retrieved a storage ring and gently placed it on a rock in the empty space beside him.
Tu Sisi glanced over, her expression puzzled. "Hmm?"
"Only this," Xu Xian said.
Tu Sisi's gaze became dazed.
Xu Xian said slowly, "He left in a hurry and left nothing behind. This... is his only legacy. I thought it would be most appropriate to give it to you."
Tu Sisi's eyes grew dark, a look of disappointment fleeting across her peerless face.
Only this?
Nothing else...
He said nothing...
"Heh!"
She gave a self-mocking laugh. "Swordsmen are truly the most heartless."
Xu Xian didn't know what to say. Ultimately, this was a matter between the two of them.
To love or not to love.
Deep affection or cold indifference,
it wasn't his place to judge.
The passage of time and the changing of ten thousand years—how could such things be explained clearly?
Those who carry great righteousness in their hearts must inevitably fail those closest to them.
In the world of adults, some choices allow one to have everything, but other choices must be made out of necessity, with no other option at all...
Tu Sisi had just sat down and shared only a few words before finding it dull. She stood up and said indifferently, "I'm leaving."
"Aren't you taking the item?" Xu Xian reminded her.
Tu Sisi replied calmly, "He didn't say it was for me."
Xu Xian pondered for a moment. "Then should I give it to Kongkong?"
Tu Sisi didn't look back. "As you wish..."
With every word she spoke, her figure appeared hundreds of feet away. By the end of their brief exchange, her silhouette had vanished completely.
The path she left behind was empty, save for the moonlight that draped the land like white silk, cold and clear...
Xu Xian took back the storage ring and let out a long sigh.
"Sigh!"
What is love in this world?...
Heaven ages easily.
Affection is hard to sever.
Better to remain ignorant of it.
Dawn.
Dusk.
The autumn wind rises,
and the thin snow melts.
The time for silkworms to break their cocoons arrives once more...
A small town,
hundreds of households,
crisscrossing paths running north and south,
yet it was filled with the myriad forms of life, old tales of the red dust within a dream.
The cry of a newborn baby.
The long sleep of a grey-haired old man.
In the small town, a new generation replaced the old, and the new faces eventually became the old ones.
Youth,
middle age,
old age.
At thirty, one stands firm; at forty, one has no doubts; at fifty, one knows the mandate of heaven; at seventy, one is rarely seen since ancient times...
Ninety years old.
One hundred years old.
One hundred and ten years old.
One hundred and twenty years old...
The residents of Houdao Town generally lived long lives; the elders in the village could all live to be over a hundred.
Some said,
it was because Houdao Town was protected by an immortal on the mountain, ensuring not only favorable weather but also a long life free of illness for the people.
This was indeed true.
That year,
Xu Xian, who had walked through the mortal world for a century, became the oldest elder in Houdao Town.
It was also that year,
that he completed his first century in the red dust.
Black hair turned to white.
The youth became an old man.
With a flowing white beard and thin white eyebrows, he sat on the back mountain, looking down at the town below—a century of vast changes.
The scale of the small town had grown from a few hundred households back then to nearly a thousand households today.
It was dusk,
the sky filled with a melancholy yellow. In the distant mountains, wisps of cooking smoke could be seen from time to time.
Not only had Houdao Village become a small town, but many more villages had appeared in the forests surrounding it.
Two hundred years had passed like this.
What would the next two hundred years be like?
Xu Xian wondered.
Perhaps before long,
the 108 cities of the Northern Borders would become 109.
Houdao Town
would also become Houdao City.
The old man sighed with emotion.
"The only thing in this world that never changes is that everything is changing."
On that same evening,
the wind rose.
Peach blossoms drifted down as the old man stood up. Treading upon the slanting rays of the setting sun, he walked step by step toward the outskirts of the town until he left it behind...
As if a withered tree had met spring, he returned to his youthful appearance.
The immortal departed with the wind, leaving behind only an empty grass hut.
Where the peach blossoms wither, they smile at the spring breeze year after year.
A hundred years of secluded meditation to reach the peak of the Extreme Path, a hundred years of the red dust in a single dream.
The little book spirit woke up and offered its congratulations. "Congratulations, Master, on completing your first century..."
The youth gave a bitter smile.
Congratulations?
Where was the joy in this?
He shook his head and fell silent, stepping back into the red dust to vanish into the clouds and mist.
In the new century,
Xu Xian taught the Dao,
traveling throughout the mortal realm,
watching the prosperity pass by his eyes.
He went to Jiangnan to be a teacher, educating others, passing on the Dao, and resolving their doubts.
He went to the border to be a shopkeeper, running an inn and hosting travelers from all over the world.
He transformed into a mountain woodcutter, carrying firewood and gathering herbs.
He became a boatman on the rivers, ferrying others while ferrying himself.
A fisherman.
An old physician...
A hundred years!
Observing past lives in a great dream, realizing this life amidst fleeting fame.
Comparing life and death to drifting clouds, nothing in the world is not void.
A hundred years of teaching the Dao concluded here!
However, the Red Dust Tribulation still remained; his state of mind was not yet that of a saint.
Xu Xian knew,
that he still had to walk this path of the red dust...
Over the past two hundred years, he had gained many insights.
Three hundred years in the red dust?
Why exactly was it three hundred years?
Three hundred years
were like three lifetimes.
In the first lifetime, be a mortal, spend a life in mediocrity, and experience it.
In the second lifetime, be a mortal, teach others how to spend a mediocre life, and feel it.
This third lifetime was the final hundred years.
Comprehension.
What was comprehension?
To watch,
to watch how others spent their mediocre lives.
Xu Xian returned to his mortal form once more. This time, he did not join the crowd but hid himself within it, observing the lives of others.
He watched the nobility struggle for power and profit.
He watched the farmers hoeing in the fields.
He watched the soldiers guarding the borders with hardship.
He watched the young women waiting in their chambers.
Children were innocent and pure,
youths were high-spirited and vigorous,
the middle-aged were resigned and helpless,
and the elderly were like flickering candles in the wind.
A hundred years to see all the forms of life,
a hundred years to speak of all the world's vicissitudes.
A hundred years,
witnessing the changing of dynasties, the blooming and withering of flowers, and the transformation of the seas into mulberry fields.
One dream,
a hundred dreams,
a thousand dreams.
Days and months are like ants on a millstone; let all things drift and rest.
Comprehending the true self, weary of the mortal world; comprehending the Great Dao, forgetting the red dust.
Three hundred years,
a great dream in the mortal realm.
The youth entered the saint realm,
and heaven and earth became clear.
The Red Dust Tribulation was over.
Silently and without a sound.
Xu Xian flicked his sleeves and left the mortal world, ascending the mountains once more to become a deity.
Wendao Sword Sect.
At the Zuiwan Residence, Xu Xian returned and saw Li Qingshan. The latter was stunned, his expression dazed.
"Little Qingshan, I hope you've been well!"
Li Qingshan's throat moved as he bowed deeply and said respectfully, "Li Qingshan congratulates Martial Uncle on seeing through the red dust and entering the Saint Realm."
The corners of Xu Xian's mouth curled slightly, light and shadow shifting in the depths of his eyes.
A saint?
Heh...
With three parts helplessness and seven parts sorrow, he asked softly, "Is all well within the mountains?"
Li Qingshan replied, "For four hundred years, the mountains and rivers have remained unharmed."
Xu Xian pondered. "That is good."
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