Chapter 104: What Year Is Tonight, Seeing the Giant Serpent

Only its whole body was bright green, like fine jade, with no trace of fear, but instead extraordinarily miraculous.

Those beastly eyes were not the cold, bloodthirsty gaze of ordinary beasts; instead they fully displayed wisdom, brimming with spiritual intelligence.

The old man's eyes were full of astonishment and disbelief, which quickly gave way to excitement and agitation as he tentatively asked:

"Were you just speaking?"

The old man felt no fear; if this giant snake wanted to attack him, it would have struck earlier, not waited until now.

He also did not suspect that someone was faking supernatural phenomena.

Although there was vegetation around, the view was still fairly open; one could tell at a glance whether anyone was hiding here.

He was cultivating in Zuoci's tomb when he suddenly time‑traveled and happened to meet Zuoci himself.

The woodcutter could not figure it out, and being eager to go home, he thought no more about it.

The familiar sensation of weightlessness returned; his soul felt light, as if uncontrollably leaving his body and drifting away.

"Indeed, I found it."

Only when a faint burnt smell arrived did he slap his forehead, "Too bad, this furnace of fine elixir is ruined."

Seeing Ye Qin's actions confirmed the old man's suspicion; excitedly he introduced himself: "I am Zuoci; today I am fortunate to witness this mountain's spirit—truly a blessing for one seeking the Dao."

As darkness fell, all scenes seemed to fade, becoming blurry, as if an invisible pair of large hands wiped away all traces.

"Where is home?"

He did not rule out that possibility, but Ye Qin always felt something was off.

Although the situation is unclear, he is somewhat certain that his time travel is definitely related to the person before him.

Ye Qin's vision also went black; when he came to, the surroundings were extremely dim, as if he were in endless darkness.

The woodcutter returned from the mountains to find that half a year had actually passed in the world!

His childhood playmates, once his peers, now had white hair, while he remained in the prime of life.

After who knows how long, Zuoci let out a soft sigh, and the quiet scroll regained its vitality.

In some respects, this method really works.

Who is the old man waiting for?

Ye Qin's vision gradually grew hazy; Zuoci's face appeared again, as if stepping out of the mural to invite him, awaiting his reply.

Along the way he even encountered a little child.

Taking the elixir into the body cleanses the mundane worldly qi, also known as Washing the Tendons and Purifying the Marrow.

Although time and place have changed, as long as he has not altered them, everything can continue.

But he clearly remembers this is the right road; the way home is etched in his mind, so he couldn't have taken a wrong turn—could he have simply lingered too long in the woods, even losing his sense of direction?

The woodcutter's eyes showed confusion as he kept turning around, seeking a hint of familiarity, but found only strangeness.

Although some things have no practical use, others have left a profound influence on later generations.

Although he can communicate with animals, it is only Ye Qin's one‑sided effort; even now, with two‑way exchange, this is still the first time.

The woodcutter's face showed fear, his mouth agape, feeling incredulous; the Daoist temple now seemed unreal.

Recalling Zuoci's first encounter with him, because he was so astonished, that furnace of ruined elixir caused their figures to gradually overlap.

Just the weight of that name feels like a thousand jun.

"Earlier I already sensed that the heavenly qi was unusable; now the divine snake's words have further dispelled my doubts—since this road is blocked, I will seek another way."

The woodcutter cried out in surprise, feeling that everything he experienced today was full of the uncanny.

Before, he could not speak human language, so those people could not understand; even if they did, their first reaction would be fear and dread.

But this likely relates to the abundant heavenly qi of ancient times.

"May I ask what year is tonight?"

"Sir, you really are—refining elixir in the mountains, you've surely forgotten yourself again."

That is an ancient book recording folk tales of the strange, similar to the old 《Story Collection》; it contains a passage hand‑copied by Zuoci himself:

【In Huoshan Mountain of Dongling Commandery, a woodcutter came to gather firewood; deep in the mountains he saw a Daoist temple. The woodcutter found it strange, mistakenly entered, offered incense, then left. When he looked back, his axe handle was rotten. Upon returning home, he found no contemporaries. Meeting an old woman who asked, 'What year is tonight?' she laughed and said, 'It is the nineteenth year of Jian'an!'】

Recalling all that had happened, Ye Qin felt a huge surge in his heart and hurriedly searched inside the tomb.

Everything vaguely matched what Ye Qin had seen and heard.

"When the three thefts are proper, the three talents are at peace."

What he had experienced before was almost identical to the mural.

In a daze, another Daoist temple appeared before the woodcutter—dim and distant, its solemn deity unchanged while the mortal world underwent repeated changes.

I don't know if it's Ye Qin's illusion, but I always feel his five senses have become somewhat blurred.

Zuoci described his future aspirations, and Ye Qin listened very attentively.

Being able to say such things not only shows his spiritual intelligence is extremely high, but he may already have stepped onto the path of cultivation; moreover, discussing the extraordinary Dao has greatly benefited Zuoci.

The old woman laughed, revealing her yellow teeth, "Just call me Lady Li."

Ordinary people at this age would likely feel that failure cannot come again.

I also don't know why the owner did not destroy it but kept it instead, as if it had some special significance.

Could it not be a mountain spirit or monster transformed!

Zuoci slowly rose, clasped his hands in a salute, and solemnly bowed to Ye Qin.

Ye Qin looked somewhat wistful; a glance sideways made him notice the mural he had not finished viewing earlier.

If he really answered that way, it would probably confuse Zuoci.

The old woman laughed heartily, "No one has lived here for decades—how could you have a home? You must have taken a wrong turn."

Even if you cannot return, you can cultivate here.

At first Ye Qin didn't care, because these pills had no special effect and some were even poisonous; but now he searched through them and poured out all the pills.

Zuoci, knowledgeable and well-traveled, had seen many serpent kinds, yet none matched; he became all the more certain that Ye Qin's origins were extraordinary.

Zuoci, however, disagreed, laughing and saying, "It must be that my boy servant can't find me and is calling me with the bell."

The woodcutter hurriedly said, "Madam, my home originally was here; I don't know why I can't find my way back—do you know?"

Looking at the old man before him, his left eye was filled with a white film, seemingly unable to see; even when speaking, he slightly leaned to the right—everything seemed to match the information.

And since it was formed from the spiritual aura of this place, with spiritual wisdom awakened, it was simply called a living spirit, which was not offensive.

Zuoci eyed the great serpent before him, its beastly pupils filled with a human-like hue; he couldn't help but feel reverent, believing it to be the deity of this place.

He was about to set the time, planning to continue chatting with Ye Qin here tomorrow.

Heaven is fair, never favoring one over another; it gave humanity wisdom, yet it withdrew the spirituality from their bodies.

"The divine snake is extraordinary; today's words have enlightened me. Venerable one, please accept my bow."

Immediately, everything in the mountain forest fell silent.

The old woman sighed incessantly, "Even the names are exactly the same; back then I had a neighbor who went into the mountains to chop firewood and vanished without a trace, his whereabouts unknown."

The little boy muttered a few words, then paid no further attention.

And now, regardless of whether they came here because of Zuoci, there is a karmic bond between them; perhaps it was sealed when he picked up that cauldron, with some things predestined from the start.

"Ordinary people are nothing special, but if one transcends the mundane, can they attain the Dao?"

The wind ceased, the clouds stilled.

"The living spirit truly possesses great wisdom; a few short words provoke deep thought. The old man happens to have a doubt—wondering if it can be resolved?"

Ye Qin could be certain that the Zuoci before him was the owner of the tomb.

"No, I must hurry home; if I'm later, I fear the night road won't be safe."

He repeatedly said "good," and as the mountain wind blew, the wrinkles on his face seemed to dissipate like mist in the hills; his expression became ethereal, making him inscrutable.

Seeing the woodcutter's dejected appearance, the old woman couldn't help but ask, "Young man, are you alright?"

Zuoci murmured to himself, he took a deep look at Ye Qin, and his eyes seemed to gain insight.

Just as: "By day, thoughts arise; by night, dreams come."

No matter when in ancient or modern times they meet, fate pays no heed to time or age.

Moreover, the other party is an ancient sage, author of a great ideological work; though he may not be able to put cultivation into practice, he still possesses unique insights—why not discuss the Dao?

Therefore, Ye Qin sat opposite, the serpent's head nodding, "Feel free to speak."

"I have been studying elixirs; imagine if there were an elixir that could let one break through the shackles of the mortal world and its bonds—wouldn't that allow one to ascend right where they stand?"

The woodcutter stared at the old woman before him, his expression full of complex feelings.

Ye Qin's expression grew wistful: "Perhaps I guessed wrong; maybe earlier it was just a coincidence, merely a dream—in fact, I never appeared in Zuoci's era."

All that could be seen was the wooden axe handle completely rotted, the palm's center full of wood shavings.

Yet one heard, the leisurely bell sound echoed across this mountain wild, white clouds drifting, the bell tolling long.

Ye Qin, at a loss for words for a moment, simply nodded, acknowledging this identity.

Zuoci stared at Ye Qin, his expression somewhat hopeful, still awaiting his reply; as the mountain wind blew, his Daoist robe fluttered, giving him an unreal sense of feathered ascension.

A wind from somewhere blew, bringing a familiar scent.

"……"

Ye Qin likewise nodded, returning the gesture to Zuoci.

"Huh, even their appearances are quite similar."

Ye Qin's snake pupils widened in alarm; his gaze fell on the pile of books beside him, and he quickly began to flip through, wondering what records might remain.

Previously, the books had left too much behind; he only skimmed a portion and did not examine them closely.

How could such a coincidence happen?

"Hum——"

Yet this is truly absurd, beyond belief—how could the world have such a marvel?

First, let's not discuss why the old man before him can understand his words.

Later generations often claim Zuoci possessed divine abilities, able to command ghosts and gods, which shows the exaggeration; in fact, Zuoci was merely an ordinary person who single-mindedly sought the Dao.

On the contrary, a white-haired old woman saw him pacing back and forth and couldn't help but step forward to inquire.

Good karma brings good fruit, and vice versa.

"I once thought my inability to enter the Dao was due to dull talent; I once regretted it, and studied diligently without slackening, but now it seems to be an innate shackle, not something human power can overturn."

After a moment of contemplation, he said, "Come from where you came, go to where you should go."

……

Even now, he still cannot figure out where, when he was first reborn, he had heard these words.

Animals are nature's darlings, born with the instinct to survive; though they have spirit, they lack wisdom.

Zuoci's discourse was not yet exhausted.

Woodcutter waved his hands repeatedly: "Madam, what is your maiden name?"

Zuo Ci's address to Ye Qin had risen from "living beings" to "Divine Snake".

The two were like old friends who hadn't met in a long time; although they were strangers, they felt as if they had known each other for ages.

All that could be seen was an empty spot on the ground; there was no trace of a house, and after searching for a long time, the woodcutter found nothing.

"Heaven and earth, the thief of all things; all things, the thief of man; man, the thief of all things."

Just like Ye Qin now, he also uses the ingestion of elixir as a medium bridge, allowing postnatal qi to condense and not disperse within the body, thereby forming a qi cluster, which finally condenses into an elixir.

The old man muttered to himself, giving Ye Qin an identity; excited and thrilled, he even ignored the elixir inside the cauldron.

And Ye Qin was also about to speak in reply.

Isn't that the name of the tomb's owner?

Ancient people from a thousand years ago?

This time it was Ye Qin's turn to be surprised.

The green mountains stretched endlessly, the clouds and mist were hazy, as if they existed like a fairyland.

Zuoci listened, somewhat entranced; at first he didn't understand, then it became complicated, and afterwards he fell into contemplation.

The old woman spoke kindly: "I follow my husband's surname."

The woodcutter, however, walked away dazed and dispirited, later dissipating in the afterglow of the setting sun.

As the sun set westward, the Daoist temple seemed to stand in the river of time, spanning ages; the lingering light on the horizon fell on the red eaves' exterior, as if penetrating the whole building, giving a feeling of ethereal haziness.

Probably it was the familiar feeling from the woodcutter; and not detecting any malice, it inexplicably felt kind, and the old woman was also happy to chat with him.

Moreover, this place is a remote wilderness; besides him and his own Daoist boy, usually no one comes, let alone pretending to be divine and deceiving here.

Seeing the sky grow dark, time not early, Zuoci couldn't help but say: "I don't know if we can meet again tomorrow to discuss the Dao?"

Now it seems the old woman bears a considerable resemblance to her in appearance; could she be an elder of the family? But earlier the hunter said, all the elders in the family have passed away, with no ancestors left.

Exactly.

With the passage of time, unnoticed, the sun had already set behind the mountains.

"Young man, what is your name?"

Zuoci felt deeply moved; it seemed Ye Qin's words had a great impact on him.

And the Zuoci before him, his eyes showed surprise and delight, as if looking at a friend who had suddenly visited; in his speech and choice of words, he was also measured.

In panic, the axe in his hand also fell to the ground; he didn't even have time to pick it up, and he ran down the mountain in a fluster.

"So that's how it is, so that's how it is."

"This elixir actually exists in reality."

For example, his disciple was deeply influenced by him; Ge Xuan, known as the Little Immortal Elder, even indirectly influenced Ge Hong.

Upon hearing those words, the woodcutter's body trembled; he actually shared the same given name and surname as his neighbor—could such a coincidence really happen in the world?

All these things together made the woodcutter's trembling worse; he felt his throat inexplicably dry.

Zuoci's gaze fell toward the distance, the green mountains layered upon layers; his expression was somewhat wistful, he stroked his beard and said:

"When I was young I cultivated the Dao, studied the art of alchemy, understood the Five Classics, was versed in astrology and calendrical calculations, knew the Six Jia, yet I never grasped the key, unable to truly enter the Daoist gate; I don't know why."

No wonder Zuoci's name could be left in history; just this kind of unyielding perseverance already surpasses ordinary people by much.

Why did I suddenly time-travel? Beforehand there wasn't even a hint.

All kinds of thoughts intertwined in his mind; Ye Qin contemplated so deeply that even when Zuoci shouted several times, he didn't hear.

Ye Qin never believed in mere coincidences; everything has cause and effect, arising from conditions and dispersing when they cease—all phenomena are no different.

Ye Qin spoke again to test: "Are you from Lujiang?"

It is somewhat like the modern form of writing a diary, which can be understood as Zuoci's personal notebook.

Inside the tomb there were many bottles and jars, containing quite a few elixirs; they must all have been concocted by Zuoci in the past.

Although it is an exaggeration, one can see that this old man's Vital Essence is abundant, far surpassing the mundane.

"What exactly is going on?"

"Young man, why are you loitering here?"

"Where is my house?"

Could it be that I am affected by reality, so my dreams also show related content?

Seeing him like this, the old woman couldn't help but feel curious; it seemed she thought of something, fell into a kind of recollection, and murmured: "However, hearing your voice, young man, it reminds me of my departed acquaintance."

Not far from the pavilion, also the highest point of this peak, beside it a child was ringing the bell.

Ye Qin's expression flashed with a hint of surprise.

What is depicted on this mural is virtually identical to reality.

In fact, he has not succeeded in seeking the Dao up to now; later generations also have no clear record, leaving only a few vague sentences, whereas wild histories contain various rumors.

The child's figure vanished into the mountains and forests.

Given Zuoci's talent, if he were to enter the world, relying on his own abilities and being well-read, he would surely be ennobled and appointed a general—no problem.

Zuoci originally had this idea; after hearing Ye Qin's words, he became even more certain that a person, hindered by his own limitations, cannot break through to the Dao, so he must turn to external means.

Although in the river of time this tomb painting has already faded and worn somewhat, it is not difficult to discern the scene depicted within.

The two share a wonderful similarity in achieving the same end by different means; both rely on the power of elixirs.

The woodcutter truthfully replied: "My name is Wang Hai."

One could see the axe handle covered in rust spots, as if it hadn't been used for a long time; clearly before going out, the axe had been polished smooth and sharp, yet in a moment it became covered with such rust.

Even more surprising things were yet to come; the woodcutter couldn't help but stare wide-eyed.

Zuoci chewed over Ye Qin's words, then suddenly clapped his hands and laughed loudly, "Good!"

But in this, there is no record of any words concerning Ye Qin.

Upon hearing the old woman's words, the woodcutter widened his eyes, and actually also saw a sense of familiarity in her.

The old woman, not understanding, looked at the woodcutter with some confusion: "What you say is ridiculous; we are strangers, why would I deceive you?"

Under the azure sky, white clouds drift leisurely; amidst the lofty and perilous peaks, it seems as if a heavenly pillar connects to the firmament, making this place seem like a fairyland, splendid and magnificent.

"This is also not it."

And the woodcutter finally ran down the mountain; only then did he notice the strangeness of the surroundings, his eyes showing doubt, everywhere were unfamiliar traces, with nothing familiar in sight.

"When eating, the hundred bones are in order; when moving, the myriad mechanisms are at peace. One who knows its spirit becomes spiritual; one who does not know why its lack of spirit is spiritual."

Ye Qin knew what the cause was, but he also felt reluctant to strike a blow; after pondering a moment, he then spoke.

Zuoci did not understand; that was because Ye Qin had read his handwritten notes and insights, so he was not unfamiliar to him.

"How could this be!"

So, Ye Qin not only informed Zuo Ci, but also reminded himself not to forget his original intention, and his heart was somewhat moved.

"I've heard that Mount Huo is extraordinary; indeed, words do not lie. It was not in vain that I spent half my life cultivating, enduring countless hardships to finally arrive here—you must be the spirit of this mountain!"

Ye Qin's pupils suddenly contracted; he instinctively moved closer to the mural. At the southeast corner of the mural, there unexpectedly stood a small pavilion, inside which an old man was seated.

The woodcutter felt increasingly strange in his heart, yet he could not put it into words.

Otherwise, there wouldn't be so many bottles and jars, nor would there be alchemical equipment; moreover, most of the books are related to alchemy, and they even contain many of his personal insights and experiences.

After what just happened, the woodcutter was literally jumpy at the sight of a bow's reflection in a cup; his face instantly showed alarm, and before the Daoist boy could speak, he ran even faster.

"The Yellow Emperor's Nine Cauldrons Divine Pill Classic says: 'The Yellow Emperor took it and thus ascended to immortality; if I can refine this pill, achieving immortality and ascension is no problem.'"

The old woman laughed loudly upon hearing this: 'You youngster, you don't even know what year it is—it's now the nineteenth year of Jian'an.'

The neighbor is a hunter; his family has a young daughter about the same age as him, and they get along fairly well, often playing together since childhood.

Could it be that, because he cultivated in Zuo Ci's tomb, he unconsciously conjured such an illusion, causing himself to fall into it?

"At this hour, how could there possibly be anyone in the mountains?"

Zuo Ci!!

Upon hearing the old Daoist's words, a tremendous shock surged in Ye Qin's heart—this was the greatest emotional upheaval he had experienced since his transmigration and rebirth.

The old woman is advanced in age, her eyesight is a bit blurred, she cannot see things clearly; her face bears all the marks of time's vicissitudes, she narrowed her eyes into a slit, scrutinizing the woodcutter, as if with surprise and suspicion.

Dark hues spread across the horizon, then clouds flew and mist surged; the mountains loomed, stretching continuously, and between the extraordinary peaks, boars frolicked—like a dream, like an illusion.

"You're not trying to deceive me, are you?"

It seemed he had merely dozed off unintentionally just a moment ago, and in reality only a few seconds had passed.

Ye Qin's soul trembled, and he couldn't help murmuring: "This bell sound—"

If that's the case, how could the earlier tomb painting and the elixir be explained?

Looking at the old man before him, his expression somewhat stubborn, he wholeheartedly seeks the Dao, thus he seeks out famous mountains, hoping to obtain an opportunity.

Ye Qin took out his own cultivation experience to explain, and discussed the Dao with him.

But what he sought was never these external things.

May I ask your name, madam?

……

The woodcutter came out of the Daoist temple, saw a faint crescent moon rising on the horizon, suddenly realized it was already evening, and his expression couldn't help but show some surprise.

That's why, upon seeing Ye Qin, he felt no fear, but rather felt extraordinarily mystical, even proactively engaging in conversation, solely to seek that illusory "Dao".

Seeing Ye Qin had no response, he went on: "Right, how about we meet again at this time tomorrow, or today?"

After learning its profundity, Zuo Ci did not lightly give up or become discouraged; instead, his eyes became even more resolute.

Watching that sun finally sink below the horizon, with no light remaining, foreshadowing the formal arrival of night, all scenes seemed shrouded in a black curtain.

Zuo Ci sighed slightly: "If one says humans are endowed with proper nature, different from mundane things, Heaven bestows destiny, there is no distinction."

From the tomb it's not hard to see that Zuo Ci's later years were almost spent making elixirs day by day, presumably to refine the so-called divine elixir.

The old woman merely gave him a bewildered look, always feeling that the young man before her seemed strange and mystical.

Ye Qin surveyed his surroundings, only to find himself inexplicably back in the very tomb he had just left, nothing having happened, as if what he had experienced was merely an illusion.

The only difference was that before the old man stood no one; only his head and body were slightly turned, indicating his gaze fell upon the pavilion outside.

He seemed to sense something, hastily turned around, only to see the Daoist temple turn illusory, like a mirage, or like rippling reflections on water, as if it would vanish into the air the next second.

The bell sound grew ever closer, gradually overlapping with what he had heard at first, as if it were some omen, illusory and elusive, making it impossible to grasp.

How could time have flown by so swiftly, or was it already dusk when he entered?

The woodcutter scratched his head, unsure if it was his illusion, but he felt the events had just happened, yet his memory was becoming hazy.

As his words fell, the pavilion fell silent; neither party spoke.

It felt as if they were waiting for someone!

Ye Qin himself fell into recollection; these words affected him profoundly, thereby opening the path of cultivation.

Zuo Ci!

The sunset hung over the mountain ridge, the afterglow spreading in layers, crimson-gold light intertwining, the whole mountain forest bathed in a gentle glow.

Ye Qin stared closely and saw that among these pills, several were utterly scorched, as if during refinement he had accidentally overheated them, turning them into a burnt mess.

When the archaeological team was here earlier, he had also vaguely heard news about the tomb's occupant, said to be a fangshi of the late Eastern Han.

Even around this pavilion, it seemed as if a faint radiance had been scattered.

He clearly remembered the mountains' spiritual elegance, the feeling of free conversation in the pavilion; although Zuo Ci was an ordinary seeker of the Dao, he also gave him a unique insight.

Ye Qin plunged into a sea of books, many of which were notes on elixir-making, formulas, and other ancient texts.

Zuo Ci spoke with growing excitement, spirited, appearing nothing like an old man of his age.

The earlier tomb painting and this furnace of elixir, though intangible, all prove that he seemingly left traces of his existence!

"Humans are the spirit of all things, yet they eat grains and legumes; in the mundane cycle of rebirth they have long lost their spirituality—no wonder I have never been able to attain the Dao."

When the mountain wind blew, wood shavings fluttered up, as if a heavy snow had fallen, blurring the woodcutter's eyes.

Under the setting sun, the woodcutter's shadow stretched extremely long; he picked up his axe, ready to descend the mountain, but suddenly felt something odd in his hand, lowered his head to look.

In the mountains, the evening glow was brilliant, diffusing a dark red hue; even the verdant mountains were dotted with other colors.

On the horizon a rainbow bridge seemed to appear, supporting the rising and setting sun, accompanied by the ancient, enduring bell sound, spanning between mountain and heaven, becoming an eternal sound.

At this moment, Ye Qin's field of vision continually expanded, taking in the entire landscape; he saw the undulating mountain ridges, the sinking sunset, and the clouds drifting all around.

No wonder historical records mention that Zuo Ci lived for several hundred years.

"This is not it."

But the Serpent Kind before him was clearly different, enough to prove his extraordinariness.

The woodcutter's voice trembled slightly; he tried to reassure himself, perhaps all this was merely his speculation.

Facing Zuo Ci's invitation, Ye Qin was somewhat dazed.

But Zuo Ci is different; able to speak with grand ambition, "This road is blocked, seek another way," showing his broad-mindedness, which ordinary people cannot match.

"It's alike, really too alike."

The only pity is that Ye Qin has also confirmed that the ancient person before him has no divine abilities, merely slightly longer-lived than ordinary people, with sharper senses, appearing otherwise unremarkable.

The Daoist temple is not large, easy to walk around; he merely strolled casually, paid respects to the statue, at most spending the time of a few incense sticks, yet outside several hours had already passed.

Mountains and rivers have spirits, seemingly also not wishing to disturb the two; the forest wind slowed its pace, tree shadows swayed gently, casting irregular shadows outside the pavilion.

After a change of mindset, Ye Qin also felt relieved; having not spoken with anyone for a long time, this feeling struck him as somewhat novel.

His mind grew increasingly muddled; all of this was truly too sudden—saying he time-traveled, he did, it happened in the blink of an eye, with no preparation at all.

The old man also did not remain disheartened for long, because there were still more important matters before him that attracted his attention.

"I do not know what sentient beings ponder, nor whence they come; I have cultivated half my life yet never seen immortals or deities—today I behold them, a fortune across three lifetimes."

Soundless silence spread between them; in an instant, even time seemed to freeze.

"I understand these words, but how should they be interpreted?"

However, for Ye Qin, elixirs play a supporting role, whereas for Zuo Ci they are primary.

Watching the woodcutter flee in panic, the child scratched his head, "Why did the woodcutter flee? I originally wanted to ask him if he had seen my family's master, yet it seems ghosts are chasing him from behind."

Though the being before him is clearly non-human, he feels a sense of meeting an old friend late in life; moreover, some of its views coincidentally match his own so closely that, no matter what is said, Ye Qin can always respond.

The woodcutter muttered to himself, half in disbelief, "I actually stayed in the Daoist temple for this long?"

An existence like Zhuang Zhou dreaming of a butterfly.

"All things have spirits, humanity as the foremost..."

"Jian'an nineteenth year?"

"What era name is this?"

In the woodcutter's mind a thunderclap rang out of nowhere, as if something exploded; his eyes lost focus, and he muttered incredulously.

Finally, among these books he found some records of Zuo Ci's daily life, his visits to famous mountains, and certain perplexities that arose during his elixir refinement.

All around was utterly silent, not a sound of insects or birds.

Ye Qin shook his head; he could hardly tell Zuo Ci that he had once been a modern person, then reborn as a snake, and now time-traveled to Zuo Ci's era.

Ye Qin could not help muttering, reality and illusion intertwined, leaving him somewhat unable to distinguish them.

The situation grew ever more bewildering; if it were an illusion, it would be all too real.

The original pavilion, viewed from above, gradually shrank, then became a tiny black dot—let alone the person inside.

Then isn't it that he has time-traveled to the Eastern Han era?

The woodcutter's hands trembled slightly, his face suddenly changed, and an impossible conjecture arose in his mind.

Since heaven let him meet this person here, fate must have long been set; upon realizing this, Ye Qin felt suddenly enlightened, no longer burdened as before.

Not to mention his astonishment, even Zuo Ci was greatly surprised—he never expected that the beings here could not only converse with him but also know his origin, indicating something truly extraordinary.

The setting sun seemed unwilling to leave, hanging far off in the treetops, gazing toward the direction where Ye Qin stood.

A massive influx of information flooded the woodcutter's mind; he involuntarily staggered a few steps, trying to find any trace of jest on the old woman's face.

Upon entering he clearly felt it was still early; how could it be that after merely offering incense and paying respects, upon exiting the sky was already darkening?

The woodcutter was startled, his face blank: "How could it be wrong? It can't be wrong, it can't be wrong."

"How could it be Jian'an nineteenth year? Where is my Xiping fifteenth year?"

This feeling made Ye Qin quite comfortable.

Having seen too many things in this tomb, he formed an impression, which then manifested in his dream?

As Ye Qin felt lost and forlorn, lowering the book with his tail, his peripheral vision suddenly caught a few scattered words in the text.

At the month's start, I ask for a monthly vote; we are a new book needing monthly vote exposure.

The author has nothing to repay, but will surely burst out with extra updates at the month's start to reward everyone!