The short and skinny old man narrowed his eyes, looking at the limping youngster in the distance who was climbing toward the top of the peak, and it seemed that he didn't care that he was rubbed and pitied by the young man.
As an old-aged master of evil in a high Cultivation state, he was enormously experienced and composed, and as such, he wasn't easily disturbed by outside influences.
He couldn't kill the young man by his side, because the young man's soul had a connection with a certain thing, and that thing helped him avoid the detection of the Green Mountain Formation.
Of course, these facts were told to him by the young man himself, and so they could be false.
But he had no way to determine their accuracy, since he didn't want to gamble with his very life.
The young man turned around and looked at the youngster on the distant mountain and suddenly asked a question.
"Is death so horrible? Look, though he might fall off the cliff and break into pieces at any moment, he is still climbing nonstop."
"It's because he is still young and hasn't thought much about life and death quite yet."
The old man added, "If he would become the Sect Master of the Dark Mysterious Sect and the ruler of the Demon Federation in several hundred years, do you think he would still have the same courage he's shown today?"
The young man said, "Cao Yuan faces a life-and-death test in the wind and snow every day, but he doesn't have intend to avoid it."
"He is the Buddha, not a human. A Buddhist is ready for death at any time, but a man desires for longevity. So he is not afraid, but I am."
The old man continued with narrowed eyes, "Besides the three of us, those old men hiding on the Green Mountain and Cloud Dream Mountain are afraid of death as well, so there is no shame in fearing death."
The young man said, "The longer one lives, the more one is afraid of death. I've heard of this remark many times, yet it's still sensible."
The old man chimed in, "It should be said that those who can live longer are afraid of death more than others. As such, if the Immortal Jing Yang were still alive, he would be the person who feared death the most."
The young man became silent, his gaze falling on a place located further away, with a patch of thin cloud on the horizon, wearing a lonely expression.
Looking at the young man's profile, the old man asked, "What I don't understand is that you have been living a long life, so how come you are not afraid of the end of it?"
"Because…it's no fun to live at the bottom of the well. Even if I could live as long as the Round Turtle for tens of thousands of years, it's would still be meaningless."
The young man added, "The White Cat had a great deal of fun back then. Nowadays, he lives like an old-aged king on Bihu Peak, but I don't want to live like him."
The rainfall in Zhaoge City had gradually lessened in the late spring.
Both the dark eaves of the Taichang Temple and the roofed corridor of Zhao Manor House reflected the warm sunlight, making people feel sleepy.
Zhao Layue's face was pale, but her the expression in her eyes was dazzling, the black and white parts distinctive and quite focused.
Jing Jiu made it clear that it would be the last time he would talk about this topic.
"Living together or raising sheep are the Cultivation practitioners' ideas. The mortals can't cultivate, but their wisdom isn't inferior to us, so they definitely have their own ideas. For instance, the Precious Tree House or the officials in the imperial court are actively participating in the affairs of our immortal world, to acquire money or power, enjoying themselves as much as possible in their short lives."
Jing Jiu continued, "Shi Fengchen couldn't move further on his path toward heaven due to his lack of talent, among other reasons, and also because of the experiences he had as a child; he was hostile toward Cultivation practitioners. In fact, he was filled with suspicion and hatred. This somehow represented the attitude of some mortals."
Zhao Layue fell silent before asking, "Are there many mortals who feel like this?"
Jing Jiu said, "Over tens of thousands of years, the Cultivation practitioners have never stopped bullying and oppressing mortals. The situation has gotten better during the Jing dynasty, but this issue still remains. Of course, the mortals don't have enough power to revolt. As long as they can live their lives, they dare not offend the Cultivation practitioners or express their hostility toward the Cultivation practitioners; but their anger does exist, and it's buried deep in their hearts. Once the Cultivation practitioners lost their power, this anger would absolutely explode like a volcano, and its unimaginable strength will destroy everything you've come to know."
A hurricane had just passed the ocean outside Haizhou City.
A huge shadow drifted across the ocean surface, making a barrage of waves. The fishermen knew it was a flying whale without even bothering to lift their heads.
A boat couldn't withstand the tremendous force of heaven and earth, capsizing tragically. Though other fishing boats came over in an attempt to rescue it, two fisherwomen had died nonetheless.
Their corpses, wrapped in clothes, had gradually sunk to the bottom of the ocean. The songs of the mermaids could be heard vaguely from the distant sprays.
Everybody knew that these two fisherwomen would be torn to pieces and swallowed by the vicious sea creatures before sinking all the way to the bottom of the ocean. Yet, the fishermen had been used to it, their expressions becoming numb, as these things would inevitably occur every once in a while.
They all knew that it was a money-making adventure to pick the Source Pearls in the ocean. However, few fishermen were willing to do it, because it was too dangerous.
But the West Ocean Sword Sect needed to collect a certain quantity of the Source Pearls on behalf of the imperial court, so somebody had to take the risk.
There was a secret gambling house in the village outside Zhaoge City.
In the early morning, a middle-aged man walked out from the gambling house, cursing the entire time, a detectable stench emanating from the sweat all over his body. He had probably stayed in the gambling house for many days and nights.
Judging from his expression and a pair of eyes full of bloody lines, he probably lost all his money.
He walked to the front of a tree, and untied his waist belt to urinate.
A flash of sword light suddenly appeared in the dim morning sunlight, and then disappeared without a trace in the next moment.
The middle-aged man happened to see the scene, and shivered in surprise.
He had a frustrated expression on his face. At a young age, he was lucky enough to witness the sword light in the sky, and he admired and worshiped those swordsmen in his childish heart. He told himself to work hard to become one of the legendary immortal masters.
He had given up on the idea long time ago.
He spat on the ground with all his might, and swore toward the sky, "Fall to your death! Fall to your death!"
The clouds and fogs from the Green Mountain floated to a small town, creating such a beautiful scene when coupled with the ubiquitous blooming peach flowers.
A young man who looked exhausted knelt in the street, kowtowing toward the peaks that became intermittently visible in the clouds and fogs.
Behind him was a worn-out pushcart with an old man lying on it.
It was quite warm during the season of late spring, especially in the south; but that old man looked pale and was shivering constantly, and it seemed that he feared cold weather even though he was covered by two quilts.
The more awful part was that the old man breathed very weakly, as if he could die at any moment.
A local told the young man sympathetically, "The immortal masters live in the deep part of the mountain, and they have no chance of seeing you. It's useless no matter how hard you knock your head on the ground. You should hurry to the Fruit Formation Temple."
"Moqiu is too far away. My father can't hold up any longer, so…"
The young man said in a trembling voice, "I heard that the immortal masters of the Green Mountain are quite benevolent, and they will often patrol their surrounding areas. Maybe it happens that they pass through here today."
The other man sighed, and said, "Their magic pills are so precious that they probably won't give them to you easily. Moreover, it's a peaceful time right now in the world. It's not like the time when the Immortal Jing Yang was about to ascend. Back then, we could see the immortal masters patrol out here once every couple of days. I haven't seen the sword light in half a year. I advise you to give up the idea."
The young man displayed a hint of a dreadful smile while looking at the peaks in the clouds and fogs. He was helped up by that local resident with a great deal of efforts, dragging the pushcart towards the outskirts of town.
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