1: Leaving the sect and descending the mountain

The stone chamber was empty, with only a stone bed and a stone stool.

Chen Xu sat cross-legged on the bed, attempting to Cultivate his Cultivation Technique once more!

As soon as the faint Spiritual Qi in his Dantian stirred, a needle-like sharp pain shot through his Meridians.

He grunted, his face turning even paler, and fine cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

He had failed.

The consequences of failing Foundation Establishment were more severe than he had imagined.

His Cultivation had directly fallen from Qi Refinement Stage Perfection to the ninth level, which was not much, but the most fatal blow was the damage to his Foundation, with multiple ruptures in his Meridians and his Dantian also riddled with cracks, like a leaking wooden bucket.

He opened his eyes, looking at the empty stone chamber.

The wooden shelf that had originally leaned against the wall was filled with the Spiritual Plants, Medicinal Pills, talismans, and even the Medium Grade Spirit Stone he had accumulated over the years, specifically exchanged for to attempt Foundation Establishment.

But now, thirty years of savings had vanished overnight.

Now, he was not only a cripple whose Dao path was severed but also a penniless pauper.

Chen Xu was fifty years old this year.

A fifty-year-old Qi Refining cultivator was not uncommon in the Sect, but a fifty-year-old Qi Refining cultivator with a completely destroyed Foundation had no future whatsoever.

The Sect would no longer waste a single bit of resource on him.

He had sat withered on this stone bed for three days and three nights!

From initial unwillingness and anger to his current calm.

He stood up, walked to the corner of the stone chamber, and pulled out a dusty wooden box.

Inside was not a Magical Artifact, nor a Cultivation Technique, but a set of crudely made cloth clothes, the same ones he wore when he first came up the mountain more than thirty years ago.

He took off the Daoist robe embroidered with the Sect's cloud pattern and changed into the cloth clothes.

The Daoist robe was as light as nothing, but the cloth clothes were heavy, making him feel a little breathless.

Cultivating Immortals, after fifty years, in the end, it seemed like just a dream.

The dream was over, and it was time to descend the mountain.

"Senior Brother Chen, are you there?"

A clear female voice came from outside the Immortal Cave; Chen Xu recognized it as Bu Yifan.

He hesitated slightly but still walked over and opened the stone door.

Sunlight streamed in, somewhat dazzling, and he instinctively squinted.

Bu Yifan stood outside the door, holding a food box, and when she saw Chen Xu's appearance, she froze.

The man in front of her had disheveled hair, a pale complexion, and his eyes no longer held the composure he had during his Cultivation but only an indescribable fatigue.

What made her heart skip a beat even more was the incongruous Mortal cloth clothes he was wearing.

"Senior Brother, you..."

Bu Yifan's voice was a little dry.

"Come in and talk."

Chen Xu turned sideways, letting her in.

The sight of the bare stone chamber made Bu Yifan's eyes redden. She placed the food box on the stone stool and asked in a low voice, "I heard you came out of seclusion. Is your body... alright?"

"I won't die."

Chen Xu's tone was very flat: "Foundation Establishment failed, my Cultivation fell, and my Foundation is also destroyed."

He spoke directly, without any pretense.

Bu Yifan's heart sank. Although she had already guessed, hearing it firsthand still made it difficult to accept.

She knew how much Chen Xu had sacrificed for this Foundation Establishment attempt.

Who in the Sect didn't know that Outer Sect Disciple Chen Xu was a Cultivation fanatic?

"Then I'll go find the Elder, there must be a way..."

"It's useless."

Chen Xu interrupted her, pointing to a small packed travel bag in the corner: "I'm preparing to leave the Sect."

Bu Yifan was completely speechless.

She looked at Chen Xu, this Senior Brother who was usually serious and focused only on Cultivation.

Now, he was like a mountain hollowed out from within, leaving only an empty shell.

She felt sad for him, truly sad.

However, beneath this sadness, a thought she dared not admit to herself quietly emerged.

He was going down the mountain.

He was no longer the Chen Xu who was single-mindedly pursuing the Dao and attempting Foundation Establishment.

That invisible barrier that stood between them.

Was it... gone?

This thought made her feel a surge of shame, as if she was secretly rejoicing in his misfortune.

She quickly lowered her head to hide her emotions and opened the food box: "I... I brought you some plain porridge. You just came out of seclusion, have something to eat."

Chen Xu looked at the steaming bowl of porridge, silent for a moment, then said, "You're thoughtful."

In the following days, Chen Xu began to process his departure from the Sect.

He went to the House of Miscellaneous Affairs and handed in his identity token.

The Discipledispatcher in charge of registration glanced at him, a hint of pity in his eyes.

He officially crossed out his name on the Jade Slip.

From this moment on, he was no longer a Disciple of Qingyun Sect.

He went to say goodbye to a few familiar friends.

They were all Outer Sect Disciples who, like him, had struggled in the Qi Refinement Stage for many years.

They gathered together, not talking much about Cultivation.

They just silently drank the lowest quality Spirit Wine.

"Chen Xu, it's good to go down the mountain."

A man named Wang Chong patted his shoulder: "The Mortal world has its own way of living. Marry a wife, have a few children, and live a stable life. Isn't that better than us fighting and killing on the mountain?"

That's what they said, but everyone's face carried a hint of bitterness.

They spoke of envy, but what they were thinking of, perhaps, was their own future.

Chen Xu's today might be their tomorrow.

Chen Xu just smiled and drank the wine in his cup in one gulp.

Fifty years! The plants and trees on the mountain had changed several times!

Among his fellow Disciples, some succeeded in Foundation Establishment and became Inner Sect Junior Martial Uncles, some died on missions and became a name on a tombstone, and more, like him, exhausted their years and eventually left in sorrow.

He thought he would be very sad, but when it came to this point, his heart was surprisingly calm.

The only thing that surprised him a little was Bu Yifan.

These past few days, she came almost every day.

On the first day, she brought him some dried meat she made, saying it was a recipe from the market down the mountain and tasted good.

"You'll have to get used to these foods when you live in the Mortal world," she said.

On the second day, she brought a map of the Great Feng Dynasty, spread it on the stone table, and pointed to various place names, asking him.

"Senior Brother, have you decided where to go? I heard Ninghai Town in the south is nice, like spring all year round, very good for people."

On the third day, she brought two thick cotton clothes, saying she had sewn them herself.

"It's not like the mountain down below; winter will be very cold."

Chen Xu was not a block of wood.

Once or twice could be called fellow Disciple friendship.

But for several days in a row, Bu Yifan's actions had gone beyond the scope of ordinary Senior Brother and Junior Sister.

She didn't mention Cultivation, nor the Sect.

Everything she talked about was the mundane aspects of food, clothing, housing, and transportation in the Mortal world.

It was as if she cared more about his life after descending the mountain than he did himself.

He watched her busy herself for him.

Her delicate face wore a seriousness he had never seen before.

A heart that had long been dormant was, unknowingly, cracked open by a tiny fissure.

This was Chen Xu's last night in the Sect.

His travel bag was already placed by the door, and the stone chamber was so empty that he could hear echoes.

He sat on the edge of the bed, by the light of an oil lamp, wiping a common iron sword.

This was given to him when he first joined the Sect, used for fifty years, its blade full of nicks.

It had long lost its spirituality, but he had never thrown it away.

"Dong, dong, dong."

The stone door was knocked.

Chen Xu was a little surprised, who would it be at this hour?

He got up and opened the door, and outside stood, again, Bu Yifan.

Under the moonlight, her face appeared exceptionally clear.

What made Chen Xu's pupils contract was that she, too, carried a travel bag on her back, almost identical in style to his own.

"Junior Sister, you..."

Chen Xu's throat felt a little dry.

Bu Yifan didn't greet him as usual; she just looked into Chen Xu's eyes.

Her gaze held nervousness, shyness, but more than that, determination.

"Senior Brother Chen..."

She took a deep breath: "I'm going with you."

Chen Xu was completely stunned, his mind blank. "What did you say? Your immortal path..."

"I know my own immortal path."

Bu Yifan interrupted him, a hint of self-mockery in her tone: "I'm five years younger than you, Senior Brother, and I'm only at the eighth level of Qi Refining now, with mediocre Aptitude."

"In a few more decades, the best outcome would still be the same as yours."

"Rather than toiling on the mountain, waiting to grow old and weak, and dying in despair, I'd rather..."

She paused, then looked up, the moonlight reflecting in her eyes, as if starlight was twinkling.

"I'd rather go down the mountain with you and live a few peaceful years."

Outside the stone chamber, the night wind rustled through the treetops.

Chen Xu looked at her, unable to utter a single word.

He wanted to say she was foolish, that she was confused!

He wanted to say she shouldn't give up even a glimmer of hope for the immortal Dao for a cripple like him.

But he couldn't say a single word of it.

Because from Bu Yifan's eyes, he saw something he had long lost—hope.

Not hope for immortality, but hope for "life."

Fragments of twenty-odd years of memories flashed through his mind.

He remembered the little girl who, when he first joined the Sect, followed behind him, timidly calling him "Senior Brother Chen."

He remembered working in the medicinal garden when she clumsily broke the root of a Spiritual Plant, so anxious she was almost in tears, and he was the one who helped her replant it.

He remembered one time when he was injured by a Yao Beast, she brought him a Medicinal Pill for healing that she herself was reluctant to use, but said it was given by the Sect and she didn't need it.

And these past few days, the porridge she brought, the dried meat, the map, the cotton clothes... one by one, these small things that he had never paid attention to before now connected, forming a warm current that rushed into his desolate heart.

It turned out that while he was single-mindedly pursuing the Dao, oblivious to his surroundings.

There had always been such a gaze, silently watching him from behind.

He thought he had lost everything, but he didn't know.

He still possessed a precious affection he had never noticed.

He looked at Bu Yifan's hands, tightly clutching her travel bag strap out of nervousness.

Her hands were somewhat rough, marks left by years of labor in the medicinal garden.

Decades of Cultivating Immortals, like a dream bubble.

Unable to obtain, unable to let go, ultimately leaving with empty hands.

But this woman in front of him, carrying all her belongings, was willing to accompany him, a person with nothing, into an unknown Mortal world.

What else was there to hesitate about?

Chen Xu slowly extended his hand and grasped Bu Yifan's cold hand.

Her hand trembled slightly, but she did not pull it back.

"Good."

Chen Xu spoke, his voice a little hoarse, but steady: "The path down the mountain is not easy."

Bu Yifan's eyes immediately reddened. She nodded vigorously, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But a brilliant smile bloomed on her lips: "I'm not afraid."

Chen Xu took her hand and pulled her into the stone chamber.

He pointed to his travel bag and said in a consultative tone, "I still have some space here. Let's see if your things can fit together?"

Bu Yifan burst out laughing, tears still on her face, looking like she was both crying and laughing.

She nodded vigorously: "Mm!"

The next morning, at dawn.

At the entrance of Qingyun Mountain, two figures descended the steps.

The man wore simple cloth clothes, carrying a bulging travel bag.

His face, though somewhat weathered.

His eyes were no longer the lifeless ones of the past few days, but held a hint of vitality.

The woman also wore Mortal clothes, walking by his side, one hand held tightly by him.

She occasionally looked up at the man beside her.

A peaceful smile on her face.

On the mountain path, morning mist swirled, and cranes occasionally flew overhead, letting out a clear, melodious cry.

They did not look back.

The immortal Sect behind them was the place where they had spent half their lives, where there was the dream of immortality, and also the pain of a broken dream.

But from today on, that was all in the past.

Ahead was the Mortal world, a place both familiar and strange to them.

Perhaps there would be poverty, illness, and the worries of three meals a day!

There would be the helplessness of birth, old age, sickness, and death.

But they were two people, hand in hand.

That was enough.