217: Chapter 215 Mistaken Fate of Immortality

Shen Yizhi did not beat around the bush.

He sat in the chair opposite Yun Ming, took out a Jade Slip from his sleeve, and placed it on the table.

“My subordinates sent word to me,”

He spoke in a voice that was not loud but very clear. “There is a man named Li Shan on the Second Prince's side. He is the Sect Master of the Xuanzhou Sect, with a cultivation at Golden Core Perfection. The Sect is small, but this man's methods are not simple. He has mastered a bizarre curse known as the ‘Thousand-Mile Soul-Chasing Curse.’ It can sever an opponent's Lifespan from ten thousand miles away. Performing the technique requires a sacrifice, using the Lifespan of living beings as fuel and the essence blood of the target as a catalyst. The more that is sacrificed, the more Lifespan is severed.”

Yun Ming's hand paused slightly.

He lowered his head, looking at Xue Ji's face, at those wrinkles, at that graying and withered hair, and at those clouded eyes.

His fingers were still resting on Xue Ji's pulse; it was so weak he could barely feel it, like the last withered leaf clinging to a branch in late autumn, ready to fall with a single puff of wind.

“The Second Prince doesn't have your essence blood,” Shen Yizhi continued. “No hair, no nails, no skin flakes. He couldn't get any of yours. But he has Xue Ji's. A few days ago, he personally wounded Xue Ji, and her blood remains with him. Furthermore, using the blood of the same clan to curse Xue Ji is more effective than using the blood of others. Same clan, same source, Bloodlines connected. The power of the curse will multiply.”

Yun Ming's hand tightened.

He understood.

It wasn't an accident, and it wasn't a disease; someone from ten thousand miles away was using the lives of the fox clan and Xue Ji's own blood to slice away her Lifespan, stroke by stroke.

She wasn't dead yet because her physical foundation was good, because her Nascent Soul was still struggling to hold on, and because he had been using his Qi to sustain her life.

But she couldn't hold on for much longer.

Her Nascent Soul was fracturing, her Lifespan was draining away, and her body was withering.

Her aura grew weaker and weaker, like a candle flame in the wind that could go out at any moment.

“Is there a way to save her?”

Yun Ming asked.

His voice was calm, but Shen Yizhi could hear what lay beneath that calm.

Shen Yizhi remained silent for a moment.

He looked at Yun Ming, but Yun Ming did not look at him; his gaze remained fixed on Xue Ji's face.

Shen Yizhi shifted his gaze to the Jade Slip on the table, watched it for a while, and then spoke.

“There is,” he said. “And, it's as simple as it is difficult.”

Yun Ming finally raised his head and looked at Shen Yizhi.

There was a flicker of light in his eyes—not of hope, but of interrogation.

“What time is it to be playing riddles?”

Shen Yizhi did not get angry.

He understood Yun Ming; he knew that while this man usually didn't care about anything, when he truly did care, he was more anxious than anyone.

“The simplest method is to increase her Lifespan,” he said. “As long as she has enough Lifespan, her body can recover, her Nascent Soul can stabilize, and her appearance can return to how it was before. This treats the root cause.”

Yun Ming did not speak.

He naturally knew that increasing Lifespan was the most direct method.

But increasing Lifespan was easy to say and as difficult as ascending to heaven to do.

He once had a eternal longevity pill, but that Medicinal Pill had already been traded for that Grade Four Spiritual Vein. The Spiritual Vein was planted within the map of mountains and rivers, nourishing that small world and the little wooden hut where Qin Wan slept.

He couldn't dig up the Spiritual Vein to trade for a pill, and even if he could, there was nowhere to trade it.

eternal longevity pills weren't common commodities; in a place as large as the Zifu Immortal Dynasty, the number of people who could produce such a pill could be counted on one hand.

As a Loose Cultivator at the Late Golden Core Stage, what did he have to trade with?

Shen Yizhi looked at him without rushing him.

Xue Ji's eyelid flickered.

Her eyelashes trembled like a butterfly flapping its wings.

Then she opened her eyes. Those eyes were clouded and yellowed, her pupils dilated and lacking focus.

She blinked, her vision slowly focusing until she saw Yun Ming.

Yun Ming was sitting by the bed, holding her hand and looking down at her.

His face was so close to hers that she could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes.

She opened her mouth, a raspy sound emerging from her throat.

“What... happened to me?” Her voice was very faint, as if drifting from a great distance, carrying a weak and ethereal quality. “Why am I... so sleepy...”

Yun Ming's fingers tightened slightly.

A smile appeared on his face—a smile so gentle it didn't seem like him.

“It's nothing,” he said, his voice soft as if coaxing a sick child. “It's the side effects of the pill that sealed your cultivation before. Just sleep, and you'll be fine by tomorrow.”

Xue Ji looked at him and didn't speak.

Her eyes were clouded, but her gaze was bright—so bright it seemed she could see through everything.

She knew she wasn't suffering from side effects of a pill.

She had followed the Second Prince for so many years that she knew his subordinates better than he did.

She had heard of Li Shan's Thousand-Mile Soul-Chasing Curse. It was the ultimate treasure of the Xuanzhou Sect, using the Lifespan of living beings as a sacrifice and essence blood as a catalyst to curse a target from ten thousand miles away.

She knew she was being cursed, knew she was about to die, and knew Yun Ming was lying to her.

She didn't expose him.

She wanted to sit up, to see what she had become.

She propped herself against the bed frame, trying to climb up, but her arms gave way, and her body fell back onto the bed.

Yun Ming anxiously moved to support her,

But she looked down and saw her own hands.

Skinny as sticks, veins bulging, nails blackened, and skin as dry as tree bark. She saw her arms—grayish skin hanging loosely off the bone like a garment that was far too large. She saw the collar of her robes, sagging and loose; the body inside had withered beyond recognition. Her pupils contracted violently, and her entire being froze.

She didn't shout or scream; she just lay there, eyes wide, staring at the bed curtains above.

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, silent and soundless.

Yun Ming gripped her hand tightly.

“Don't be afraid,” he said, his voice even softer than before. “This is an illusion. A hallucination. You've been hit by a curse, and your Divine Soul is unstable; everything you see is fake. Just sleep, and when you wake up, you'll be back to normal.”

Xue Ji turned her head and looked at Yun Ming.

Her tears were still flowing, but the corners of her mouth curled slightly into a smile.

That smile was faint and light, like a ripple on water blown by the wind that soon smoothed over.

“I believe you,” she said, her voice raspy but calm.

She closed her eyes, her eyelashes trembled once, and then she went still.

Yun Ming sat by the bed, holding her hand.

The faint warmth in her palm was the only proof that she was still alive.

He knew she didn't believe him.

He knew she understood everything.

She knew he was lying to her, yet she still said, “I believe you.”

She was coaxing him, just as he was coaxing her.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath.

Shen Yizhi sat in his chair, watching this scene without speaking.

His fingers tapped lightly twice on the armrest, then stopped.

Yun Ming's Divine Sense transmission reached his ears; the voice wasn't loud, but every word carried weight.

“Is there a way or not? You're supposed to be the world's greatest scholar.”

Shen Yizhi fell silent for a moment.

He had originally intended to advise Yun Ming to give up.

Xue Ji was the Second Prince's person, a member of the fox clan, and from the enemy camp.

Her death would not harm the Third Prince; it might even be beneficial.

The Second Prince would lose a Nascent Soul Stage helper, the fox clan would lose one of its most talented juniors, and Li Shan's curse would be exposed, allowing for targeted precautions in the future.

Killing three birds with one stone.

As for Yun Ming, he was just having a moment of softheartedness; once Xue Ji died, he would be fine in a few days.

He had seen too many such feelings—they came quickly and left just as fast.

But Yun Ming's gaze made him swallow the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

It wasn't softheartedness, it wasn't pity, and it wasn't a momentary impulse.

It was earnestness.

Shen Yizhi sighed.

He took a thin booklet from his sleeve and placed it on the table.

The booklet was very old, the paper yellowed and brittle with curled edges. On it, four words were written in tiny, regular script—‘Wrong-Way Longevity’.

He flipped to the first page; it was densely packed with writing—main text, annotations, deletions, and scribbles.

The handwriting was scrawled, as if written in a state of extreme excitement or extreme agony.

Some parts were soaked through with ink, making the original writing illegible. Other parts were torn away, leaving jagged gaps. This book clearly wasn't any kind of orthodox Cultivation Technique.

“This is a forbidden art,” Shen Yizhi said, “or rather, ‘evil art’ would be more appropriate. The person who created this forbidden art originally intended to plunder the Lifespan of others for his own use. He was exceptionally gifted and almost succeeded. But it was precisely that ‘almost’ that caused the entire forbidden art to work completely in reverse—instead of plundering others' Lifespan, it transfers one's own Lifespan to another. He named this forbidden art ‘Wrong-Way Longevity.’ What is wrong is not the longevity, but the direction.”

Yun Ming's gaze fell upon the booklet.

Shen Yizhi continued: “The practitioner transfers their own Lifespan to the recipient. How much is transferred is decided by the practitioner. Once transferred, it can never be taken back. How long the recipient lives depends on how much the practitioner transfers. How long the practitioner lives depends on how much they have left. A one-for-one, fair trade.”

He paused. “You need to think this through. Your Lifespan is not infinite. You don't know how much Lifespan you'll have to give her; when the time comes, not only might she not survive, but you could also die. Furthermore, every time you transfer Lifespan, you must endure the pain of your Lifespan being stripped away. That kind of pain is beyond what you can imagine.”