Chapter 521: Cherish the Journey While You Walk It!

Ruo Qunshuang cast a brief glance at the two men from the doorway. Seeing they were still steeped in conversation, she silently turned and departed.

Pei Mo watched her silhouette fade before turning back, his expression grim. “You have even secured a Dao Companion now. The only karmic tie remaining is to sire an heir, so do not go wading into muddy waters.”

It was undeniable that Chen Tian possessed terrifying strength, wielding the top-tier divine ability, “Splitting River Dividing Water.”

Yet, the Central Region was a meat grinder filled with similar heaven-defying geniuses, some even more monstrous in their martial prowess.

There was absolutely no reason to send a humble Spirit Farmer whose only expertise lay in tending the earth.

At the end of the day, Jiang Chen had yet to see his fortieth winter; he still had boundless decades of life to squander.

Furthermore, cultivators possessing a Wood Spirit Root were inherently blessed with a more robust Lifespan than their peers, granting him an even lengthier mortal coil.

Jiang Chen flashed a brilliant grin. “My thoughts exactly.”

Pei Mo blinked, his austere facade cracking slightly. “Since it seems I am bound for the hellscape of the Central Region, prepare a hundred casks each of your Spirit Wine and Golden Wine.”

It was a trivial request; Jiang Chen naturally did not mind parting with his brews. As he withdrew the heavy casks from his spatial ring, he met Pei Mo’s eyes with solemn weight. “Ensure you return with your head attached.”

…

…

The wheel of time turned to the following dawn.

Having received word of Zhu Fuxian’s return, Jiang Chen’s Dao Heart had hummed with restless anticipation all night. He remained awake until the first light crested the horizon, departing Red Leaf Valley to delve straight into the heart of the Spirit Farms.

Along the winding paths, the scenery evoked a heavy sense of nostalgia.

This was especially true when he passed the rugged stone mountain and the humble stone hut that had once sheltered his early cultivation days.

Truth be told, after lying dormant for years, a new occupant had finally claimed the dwelling.

It was an outer sect female disciple, no older than sixteen or seventeen, possessing unremarkable features and an utterly ordinary cultivation base.

However, compared to the clumsy Jiang Chen who had just earned his official robes back then, this junior was remarkably pragmatic.

Not only had she reared a lively flock of egg-laying spirit fowl, but she also possessed a sturdy spirit ox to turn the stubborn soil.

Though her days were steeped in the mundane grind, they radiated a grounded fulfillment.

Taking in the tranquil scene, Jiang Chen could not suppress a profound sigh. “The fresh spring water flows in, and the old waters wash away!”

Refraining from shattering the junior’s peace, he swiftly transformed into a streak of light and soared onward.

It wasn’t until a heavy shadow swept over her fields that the girl flinched, snapping her head upward to seek the source.

Yet, by the time her mortal eyes focused on the heavens, the immortal silhouette had already vanished into the misty horizon.

Not long after, Jiang Chen descended outside the familiar perimeter of Zhu Fuxian’s Spirit Farm.

In the preceding years, while the elder’s spiritual crops were still absorbing heaven and earth essence, he would occasionally visit to purge the weeds and channel the irrigation streams.

Once those crops had matured and met the scythe, his footprints here had grown increasingly scarce.

Sweeping his gaze across the acreage now, the once-barren soil was densely packed with a new generation of spiritual flora.

Only this time, there was not a single stalk of mundane Spirit Rice to be found; the soil birthed only potent, heavenly treasures and rare earthly roots.

Jiang Chen absorbed the sight, cupping his hands as his voice carried over the fence. “Senior Brother Zhu!”

A brief moment later, the woven bamboo doors slid apart on their own. Zhu Fuxian, absent from the sect for years, stepped onto the soil on bare feet, his voice carrying its usual weathered warmth. “Little Jiang, it has been too long!”

Seeing the familiar, unpretentious elder, Jiang Chen felt a heavy surge of emotion constrict his chest. He bowed deeply. “It has been far too long. This junior has missed you greatly!”

Zhu Fuxian remained exactly as memory painted him-ancient, yet exuding an untethered, carefree aura. He waved his hand briskly. “Come inside, quickly. Regale me with the karmic tides of your recent years.”

As the restrictive arrays parted the wooden gate, Jiang Chen stepped through, speaking with modest casualty. “Nothing truly earth-shattering. Though I donned the robes of a core disciple, my roots remain planted in the Spirit Farms. Ah, and I have bound my fate to a Dao Companion.”

Zhu Fuxian arched a snowy brow in surprise. “Is it the little miss surnamed Bai? Or perhaps the lass surnamed Yu?”

Jiang Chen shook his head. “Neither.”

Zhu Fuxian was genuinely taken aback. “Then whose heart did you steal?”

Jiang Chen flashed a triumphant grin. “She is the precious daughter of the Nine Curves Sect’s Sect Leader, Ruo Qunshuang!”

Zhu Fuxian narrowed his aged eyes, searching his memories. “That name carries a familiar resonance.”

Jiang Chen puffed his chest slightly, his tone laced with pride. “She possesses a brilliant mind, and her heart treats me with unparalleled tenderness.”

A profoundly pleased smile wrinkled Zhu Fuxian’s face. “That is a beautiful harvest.”

Jiang Chen waved his hand, dismissing his own fortune. “Enough of my trivial affairs. During your wanderings these past years… did you glean the method you sought?”

Zhu Fuxian abruptly threw his head back, his hearty laughter echoing through the spiritual fields. “Hahaha!”

Jiang Chen’s eyes lit up with fierce excitement. “You found the Dao path?!”

Zhu Fuxian simply shook his head. “I did not.”

Jiang Chen was instantly struck dumb, his jaw slackening. “Then… what is there to laugh about?”

Zhu Fuxian clasped his hands behind his back, lifting his chin to bathe in the golden rays of the rising sun. His expression was a portrait of utter serenity. “It is the turning of the heavens and the decree of fate. The final destination no longer holds any weight in my heart.”

Jiang Chen’s complexion shifted, a knot forming in his stomach. “If… if we could acquire a Golden Light Talisman, would your assurance not surge when facing the Tribulation?”

Zhu Fuxian slowly turned his gaze back to the younger man. “The Golden Light Talisman is undeniably a divine ward against the heavens’ wrath. Yet, as one scales the higher realms, the fury of the Heavenly Tribulation multiplies exponentially.

In the face of such elemental annihilation, a paltry one or two talismans are akin to a mantis trying to stop a chariot.”

Jiang Chen opened his mouth to argue, but the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. “…”

His mastery over talisman inscription had indeed broken through to the absolute pinnacle.

Sadly, the profound karmic secrets required to trace the Golden Light Talisman still eluded his brush.

And the Ancestor possessed a mere ten in his vault; having squandered eight to secure his own life, a pathetic two remained in the world.

Zhu Fuxian’s voice took on an ancient cadence. “When a cultivator shatters their core to birth a Nascent Soul, the Heavenly Tribulation no longer tests the purity of their Spirit Root. It seeks to annihilate their comprehension of the worldly laws, unleashing corrosive lightning aimed directly at the divine soul.

The apocalyptic fury of that moment far exceeds the boundaries of your current imagination.”

Despite hoarding resources for decades-amassing mountains of Spirit Weapons, divine talismans, potent Spirit Pills, and rare spiritual flora-his odds of surviving the heavenly judgment were still a bleak fraction below fifty percent.

Such was the fatal curse of bearing a mere Human-Grade Golden Core.

Jiang Chen drew a deep, jagged breath. “Then how will you walk the path ahead?”

Zhu Fuxian casually dropped onto a woven mat. He poured a ceramic cup of spirit wine, tossing it down his throat before letting out a hearty chuckle. “I shall eat when the meat is roasted, drink when the wine is unsealed, and face the Tribulation when the storm clouds gather.

If I survive the lightning, excellent; if my ashes scatter to the winds, so be it.”

In this very moment, his Dao Heart was polished to an unprecedented, flawless clarity.

In his younger years, the chilling specter of death had planted seeds of terror, leaving him plagued by daily anxiety.

But as the brutal cycle of cultivation claimed the lives of his peers one by one, a profound tranquility had washed over his soul.

Regardless of how deeply your power shakes the heavens, even if you ascend as an immortal or establish yourself as an ancestor, the karmic wheel spares no one. Death is the absolute horizon.

Longevity, eternal life-they were ultimately nothing more than fleeting bubbles in the grand cosmic stream.

Rendered entirely speechless, Jiang Chen could only solemnly pour himself a cup of spirit wine and throw it back in a single, burning gulp.

“That Master of yours possesses quite the interesting fate, daring to breach the Soul Formation realm during such a chaotic era!”

“He has been in secluded meditation for years now. The heavens only know how much longer he requires.”

“Shattering a major realm is no trivial overnight affair; the karmic resonance must be slowly fermented!”

The two men surrendered to the wine, exchanging idle tales as the hours bled away.

Though Jiang Chen had departed at the first kiss of dawn, the ink-black cloak of midnight had settled over the valley by the time he finally stumbled home.

Little Linglong was curled snugly against Ruo Qunshuang’s chest, lost in a deep, rhythmic slumber.

Ruo Qunshuang had kept a silent vigil. Seeing him cross the threshold at last, she exhaled a breath she had been holding. “Brother Qing, is your Dao Heart steady?”

Having shared his bed and intertwined their karmic fates for nearly two years, she might not possess omniscience regarding his every thought, but she could instantly sense when dark clouds gathered in his mind.

Furthermore, Jiang Chen was rarely one to forcefully suppress his emotional fluctuations in the sanctuary of his home; the telltale signs were glaringly obvious.

He reeked of potent spirit wine. Though his cultivation easily burned away the intoxication, his pupils were clouded with an undeniable gloom.

Jiang Chen reached out, gently pinching Little Linglong’s soft, chubby cheek. His voice was a hushed murmur. “I am unharmed, naturally. My mind merely stumbled upon a heavy truth.”

Ruo Qunshuang slowly rose to her feet, meticulously sliding her arm out from beneath the sleeping child’s head. She leaned into his space, her eyes probing. “What sort of truth?”

Jiang Chen framed her delicate face with his warm palms, his thumbs tracing slow, rhythmic arcs across her porcelain skin. Silence stretched for a long minute before he finally whispered, “I have only just realized… when the karmic wheel turns far enough, every familiar face, every cherished memory anchored to your side, will slowly, inevitably fade into the mist.

It is exactly like watching the sun sink below the western peaks. The heavens do not plunge into darkness in a single breath; the brilliant light simply bleeds away, inch by agonizing inch, until the absolute end… when you can no longer find a single trace of where it once burned so brightly…”

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