218: Chapter 216 Sixty Thousand Years

Yun Ming did not hesitate.

He picked up the book 'Wrong-Way Longevity' and with a thought, the enlightenment card transformed into a stream of light and merged into his Divine Soul.

The contents of 'Wrong-Way Longevity' flooded into his mind like a tide; every word, every annotation, and every revision was clearly perceived, understood, and digested by him.

He opened his eyes.

Shen Yizhi was still standing nearby; he saw Yun Ming open the book, scan a few pages with his gaze, and then close his eyes.

A few breaths later, he opened his eyes again.

The look in his eyes had changed.

It wasn't the previous anxiety, heaviness, or the suppressed calm, but a transparent, clear, and confident tranquility.

It was as if he had already read this book a hundred times, mastered it completely, and was ready to perform it.

Shen Yizhi's brow twitched slightly.

He had read this book and knew how obscure, messy, and unconventional its contents were.

It had taken him three months just to barely understand the principles and another half a year before he dared to deduce them theoretically.

Could it be that Yun Ming had learned it in just a few breaths?

This Comprehension Ability was truly Heaven-Defying. He didn't know Yun Ming had used a enlightenment card; he only thought the man possessed extraordinary natural talent, and his respect for him couldn't help but deepen.

Yun Ming did not explain.

He placed the book on the table and reached out to hold Xue Ji's hand.

Her hand was still so cold, thin as a skeleton's, with veins bulging and fingernails turning black.

He closed his eyes, and the Qi within his body began to circulate.

His Lifespan was being stripped away, drawn out strand by strand from his Golden Core, his flesh, and his Divine Soul, flowing through his arm and into Xue Ji's body.

It was a heart-piercing pain.

It wasn't the pain of a blade cut or a fire burn; it was an indescribable agony surging from the cracks in his bones, the depths of his Soul, and every single cell.

It felt as if someone were using an invisible knife to gouge his flesh bit by bit. It also felt like someone had lit a fire in his bone marrow, making his whole body tremble. Fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead, his face turned pale, and his lips turned purple. His body shook slightly, but his grip on Xue Ji's hand did not loosen as Qi continued to be transmitted incessantly.

Xue Ji's body flickered with light.

The layer of gray, decadent aura enveloping her was partially dispelled, like a thin mist being blown away by the wind.

Her complexion changed from deathly gray to sallow, from sallow to pale, and from pale to having a hint of color. Her hair went from dull to lustrous, and from sparse to thick. Her wrinkles faded slightly, her skin tightened, and her withered fingers became fuller. Her breathing went from barely perceptible to steady, and her pulse went from almost undetectable to having a trace of strength.

She let out a soft moan—not of pain, but the kind of soft moan one makes when basking in warm sunlight, feeling so comfortable they can't help but make a sound.

She slowly opened her eyes.

She saw Yun Ming sitting by the bed, holding her hand, his face pale, covered in sweat, lips purple, and body trembling slightly. The vitality in him was draining away, like a candle flame flickering in the wind.

Meanwhile, the vitality in her was growing, like parched earth being moistened by rain, coming back to life bit by bit.

Her pupils contracted slightly; she understood.

He was using his life to save her.

Using his own Lifespan to trade for hers.

She struggled to sit up, wanting to push his hand away and make him stop.

But her body was too weak—so weak she didn't even have the strength to sit up.

“Don't move,” Yun Ming's voice was very soft but firm.

He looked at her with a calm gaze, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Lie still. I will save you.”

Xue Ji looked at him, her lips moving as if to say something, but she swallowed it back.

Her eyes reddened, and tears welled up but did not fall.

She lay back down, no longer struggling or speaking.

She just watched him—watched his pale face, his tightly pressed lips, and the sweat constantly seeping from his forehead.

She turned her hand over and grasped his.

She held it very tightly.

Shen Yizhi stood at the door, watching this scene, and remained silent for a moment.

Then he turned, gently pushed open the door, and walked out.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

He did not look back.

He left the space to them.

Inside the room, Xue Ji looked at Yun Ming for a long time. Her gaze was complex, filled with gratitude, heartache, guilt, and something indefinable. Her lips moved, and she finally spoke.

“Thank you.” Her voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.

Yun Ming gave a small laugh. The smile was a bit wider than before, carrying a hint of teasing. “Don't just say thank you. You owe me a lot now. You aren't allowed to leave until you've paid it all back.”

Xue Ji was stunned for a moment, then she huffed. That huff carried pride, stubbornness, and a sort of “who do you think you are” mock-annoyance. But the corners of her mouth curled up slightly into a smile.

“Even if you chase me away, I won't leave,” she said. Her voice was still soft, but her tone held a new firmness.

Yun Ming did not respond.

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again.

That heart-piercing pain continued, like someone using a blunt knife to carve his bones inch by inch.

He didn't make a sound, didn't frown, and didn't even quicken his breathing.

He was simply enduring it. Enduring a pain that he shouldn't have to bear.

Fearing he might pass out from the pain, he began to continue telling Xue Ji the story:

He told the twenty-third chapter he hadn't started yet: 'The Romance of the Western Chamber's witty words lead to playful banter, and 'The Peony Pavilion's' beautiful songs alert the fragrant heart.

As Xue Ji listened, the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

She didn't laugh out loud; she just listened quietly and watched Yun Ming quietly.

His face was very white, without a trace of blood. His lips were purple, almost turning black. Beads of sweat slid down his forehead, along the bridge of his nose, and dripped onto the bedsheets.

But the tone of his storytelling did not change; it was still so soft, slow, and gentle. Xue Ji did not interrupt him. She just listened, listening quietly.

She felt the vitality slowly filling her body, felt her withered cells undergoing Rebirth, felt her severed Meridians healing, and felt her nearly shattered Nascent Soul stabilizing.

She knew that this vitality was all being transferred from Yun Ming. It was his Lifespan, his life. She made a silent resolution in her heart. She did not say what that resolution was.

She simply kept it in the depths of her heart, hidden very away.

Time passed bit by bit.

The sun set, and the moon rose.

Moonlight shone through the window, onto the bedside, and onto the two of them.

The moon rose to the center of the sky.

Yun Ming finally stopped.

He calculated that from the beginning until now, the Lifespan he had transferred to Xue Ji had already exceeded sixty thousand years.

Sixty thousand years—he had given away sixty thousand years, and she had only regained six thousand.

Ten to one.

His mastery of 'Wrong-Way Longevity' was too superficial; although he had used the enlightenment card to instantly reach the entry level, it was only the entry level and lacked depth.

The efficiency of transferring Lifespan was extremely low; for every ten portions of Lifespan transferred, only one could be retained.

The remaining nine portions dissipated during the transfer process.

He had transferred sixty thousand years, and she had only received six thousand. He cursed in his heart.

He wasn't cursing his own lack of skill, but Li Shan.

That old geezer had cut away six thousand years of Xue Ji's Lifespan.

He had used sixty thousand years of Lifespan just to make up those six thousand. He would remember this debt.

Xue Ji looked at him, her gaze lingering on his face for several breaths.

She discovered something: he himself showed no signs of aging at all.

His face was still so young, his hair still so black, and his eyes still so bright.

His vitality was still so abundant, as if he hadn't lost anything at all.

This wasn't normal. A Cultivator at the Late Golden Core Stage should have died long ago. But he hadn't died, and he hadn't even aged.

A thought surged in her heart, but she did not voice it.

She just looked at Yun Ming, watching him quietly.

Yun Ming looked at her as well. He saw the doubt in her eyes, the curiosity, and that tiny bit of cautious, fearful inquiry.

He smiled, and the smile was relaxed, as if he were speaking of something very ordinary.

“This is my secret,” he said. “Can you keep this secret?”

Xue Ji was stunned for a moment, then she huffed.

That huff carried pride, disdain, and a sort of “who cares about your secret” mock-annoyance. But the corners of her mouth curled up slightly into a smile.

“I don't know your secret,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness, a bit of mischief, and an indefinable sweetness. “The story isn't finished yet; I still want to hear it.”

Yun Ming laughed. He stood up and stretched his stiff limbs, his bones letting out a series of pops. When he walked to the door and pushed it open, the night breeze blew in with the fragrance of plants, dispelling the stuffy air in the room.

“I'm a bit hungry,” he said. “Let's eat while I tell it.”

Xue Ji nodded.