Chapter 552: Another Golden Age

“Shaoying, may I ask who that person is?”

An official followed behind the old monk, curiously asking, while unable to resist glancing back at the several figures behind.

But the old monk only chuckled and said:

“Just an old acquaintance.”

An old acquaintance? Such a young one?

The official couldn’t help looking back again, but in that brief glance, the figures had vanished from the long street behind him; he stopped in his tracks, stretching his neck to search, yet found nothing.

Meanwhile, the group had already reunited with their senior brother.

It was a simple Jiangnan courtyard, its ground unpaved with stone, just packed earth, with a dead tree planted in the center and several houses surrounding it; the senior brother had already prepared the alchemy chamber.

Lin Jue walked up to the dead tree and examined it closely.

“It’s a pear tree.”

Perfect—his Blossom Instantly had originally come from a pear tree.

But this tree had long gone untended and was completely dead; in this season when it should have been heavy with fruit, not a single leaf remained.

Lin Jue smiled faintly.

In that very smile, the dead tree revived: buds sprouted along its branches, swelled into blossoms, and in an instant, the entire tree bloomed with snow-white pear flowers.

Not only did it bloom—it truly came alive.

Its roots, once dry and brittle, turned fresh and supple, drawing moisture from the earth; the parched, cracked bark gained a hint of dampness.

“Senior brother, begin your alchemy,” Lin Jue said. “We’ll stay with you for a few years in this Jiangnan water village, and experience Yangzhou’s prosperity, different from the capital.”

“Mm.”

The senior brother entered the alchemy chamber.

Ji Yin followed him in, and the other disciples, at Lin Jue’s signal, entered as well.

With their growing Dao cultivation, they were no longer merely able to observe and absorb insights—they could now assist by summoning wind, stoking flames, and handling chores.

The junior sister remained standing in the courtyard, gazing down at the ground and the tree trunk, then spoke:

“Senior brother—is this Blossom Instantly, or Life Granting and Death Stealing?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

The blooming is clearly Blossom Instantly, but reviving a tree dead for countless years, utterly devoid of life, turning death into life—that goes beyond mere Life Granting and Death Stealing.

Perhaps it also involves a touch of the Dao of Life and Death.

This made Lin Jue realize—

After achieving Immortal Undying, beyond the soul’s dispersal and reassembly and the body’s severance and restoration, with life force flowing endlessly, it seems one can also restore others to life.

“Senior brother’s abilities are growing stronger,” the junior sister added. “It seems you’ve worked far harder than in the illusion.”

Lin Jue smiled but said nothing.

Naturally.

Immortal Undying alone could only ensure he wouldn’t be killed or erased by the Floating Pool Divine Lord—it couldn’t protect Fuyao or those he wished to shield, nor defeat the Floating Pool Divine Lord; he needed other techniques to assist, and he chose primarily Blossom Instantly, Life Granting and Death Stealing, and Soul Annihilation.

In recent days, much of his diligence went into these, and in the future, he would undoubtedly devote even more energy to them.

The junior sister’s eyes sparkled.

What she truly meant wasn’t that he worked harder than in the illusion, but that he was no longer as carefree and relaxed as he had been then.

Human thoughts are inherently contradictory: who doesn’t know the tyranny of the Purple Emperor and the oppression of the Floating Pool Divine Lord? She knew diligence was right—even she secretly practiced more than most, for she was naturally inclined toward quiet diligence—but she also understood her senior brother’s nature; seeing him burdened by the future, how could she not ache for him?

“This is the Daoist seat of the Jade Mirror Emperor; since he has agreed to us, nothing should happen. Myself, senior brother, and Fuyao only need one person to stay here,” the junior sister said. “Balance work and rest—during leisure, let’s tour Yangzhou and Jiangnan? We can invite Jiang Daoist too.”

“Of course.”

Lin Jue readily agreed.

The fox sat in place, its expression unchanged, yet its gaze flickered constantly—

Three of them, leaving one to stay here?

Who would it be? Hard to guess!

Whoosh! Fire ignited within the alchemy chamber.

Both the man and the fox turned to glance, but were already accustomed to it, and paid it no further mind.

A single pear blossom drifted down and landed on the fox’s head.

This tree’s blossoms had not lasted many days.

When Jiang Daozhang descended, assuming the form of an ordinary female Daoist, and the three of them—Lin Jue and the junior sister—rode a reed boat to enjoy tea, the fox and Cai Li were playing and climbing trees in the courtyard; at this time, tender leaves had sprouted among the pear blossoms, mingling with them.

On the Mid-Autumn night, Lin Jue and his sister sat in meditation in the courtyard, when a spirit descended from the moon, accompanied by attendants bringing wine and pastries.

Saying:

“Now that you’ve finally returned to us, how could we let you spend the festival as coldly as you did in the capital?”

She was referring to Lin Jue’s earlier alchemy in the capital.

Last time, when the junior sister practiced alchemy in the capital, though they had no ties to the Purple Emperor’s divine lineage, they were deeply connected to the mortal emperor; during festivals, Luo Gongceng would never forget them—the imperial wine and palace delicacies were excellent, satisfying even immortals’ cravings.

At this time, the pear tree in the courtyard was lush and full.

By winter, all other pear trees in the city had shed their leaves; just as Yangzhou received its first snowfall, snow settled on the branches, as if overnight a spring breeze had come, and thousands of trees burst into pear blossoms.

The fox and Cai Li played wildly in the snow again.

At this time, the pear tree in the courtyard bore abundant fruit—free of pests and disease, untouched by birds, nourished by spiritual energy—and produced exceptionally fine fruit, exuding faint, enticing pear fragrance.

Passersby occasionally caught a whiff and were astonished.

Even mischievous children who crept close to the courtyard and peered through the gate crack could only see an abandoned yard.

“Crack…”

Lin Jue stood beneath the tree, reached out casually, and plucked a heavy, fragrant pear; with a gentle tug, a plump fruit came free, and merely holding it, one could feel its juiciness.

He wiped it lightly on his Dao robe and took a bite.

“Squish!”

Indeed, full of juice.

His fox, Xiao Hua, and the junior sister all gathered around.

Lin Jue plucked two more pears and handed them over, saying: “If you can’t finish them, you’ll be beaten.”

The junior sister picked one herself, wiped it casually, and bit into it.

Lin Jue asked her: “How is it?”

“Delicious! Like the pears from Dangshan back then!”

“Hahahaha…”

Lin Jue then called the disciples out to pick pears.

Now that they had cultivated so far, even Xu Yi or Pu Mei would be considered high-level cultivators in the outside world; Ji Zhu had joined later, but she already had cultivation when she became a disciple, and her talent was excellent—she too had attained considerable Dao skill; yet the joy of harvesting fruit was one even the Celestial Elder could become obsessed with, and these “high-level cultivators,” who had watered and thinned the fruit themselves, were all enthusiastically involved.

Amidst a sky of falling snow, the courtyard was filled with warmth and joy.

The pear harvest filled two large baskets.

After all fruit was picked, the tree slowly shed its leaves.

In the freezing cold, newly arrived demons scoured the city for unoccupied houses and courtyards to dwell in; they accidentally wandered here, assuming the courtyard was empty, but upon entering, inexplicably walked right back out; the dim-witted ones didn’t understand why and tried again, multiple times, until they finally realized—some fled in terror, others bowed and begged forgiveness, then gratefully departed.

Thieves also came under cover of night, and likewise, upon entering the courtyard, inexplicably walked right back out, as if entering was the same as exiting.

When they realized, their reactions were much the same as the demons’.

By the next spring, the pear tree’s growth pattern matched that of other pear trees in the city; the pear fragrance from winter became an unsolved mystery to nearby villagers.

Outside Yangzhou city lived a family, nestled among green hills and a few thatched cottages; during spring and autumn, bitter-cherry trees bloomed with pale purple, smoke-like flowers, quiet and beautiful.

An old man tended his grandson in the courtyard.

The old man’s surname was Tang, originally from Huizhou; he had always loved strange arts and immortal tales. In his youth, though the previous dynasty was declining, it was relatively peaceful; on the streets of Yixian in Huizhou, he watched performers: Daoists turning straw into fireflies, scattering wheat to transform into butterflies; Daoists spitting fire into dragons; Daoists turning their palms into stone. Later, in the capital, he personally witnessed Lin Zhen subduing a stone horse on the street, and secretly recorded many stories of Lin Zhen after his return from exorcising demons in Jinping County; due to his literary reputation in the capital, he served as a court historian and personally witnessed Lin Zhen’s magical duel with the Great Foot Daoist in the palace.

In his later years, after many relocations, he took office in Jiangnan, passed through his Huizhou hometown, and even visited Feilai Mountain.

His heart held countless wondrous tales of immortals and magic; now, in retirement, enjoying his twilight years, he recounted them in detail to his grandson beneath the twilight.

The child, of course, listened with rapt attention.

Yet neither the old man nor the child knew that, along the path outside the courtyard, beneath several bitter-cherry trees blooming with pale purple, mist-like flowers, two Daoists—a man and a woman—walked slowly, leading a young paper donkey and carrying wine gourds.

Summer flowers, autumn leaves, Jiangnan’s changing weather—three years passed in the blink of an eye.

The senior brother practiced alchemy here for three years.

Then the second brother practiced alchemy for another three years.

Time flowed gently, like water.

The Jiangnan Chan Master grew ever older, nearly unable to walk; the Tang elder outside the city had passed away; at this moment, the second brother’s Golden Core was completed.

Coinciding with the transition of eras, on New Year’s Eve, Yangzhou was wildly festive: streets packed with people, lanterns and torches everywhere, elegant young lords, literati, long-secluded noblewomen, high officials, even demons and ghosts lurking in the city revealed their forms; celestial spirits descended from the Nine Heavens, all coming to witness the lantern festival and share in the human feast.

A group of Daoists stood by the roadside; though not spirits, they saw the demons, ghosts, and earth deities in the darkness as clearly as gods.

Yet they paid no heed to the demons and ghosts, nor to the earth deities—only watched the throngs of people and the joy on their faces, and sighed:

“It’s another golden age again!”