[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-watching-the-immortals-fall":3,"chapter-watching-the-immortals-fall-watching-the-immortals-fall-chapter-398":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Watching the Immortals Fall",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2260271,4410,"Chapter 398: Another Year of Snowfall","watching-the-immortals-fall-chapter-398",398,"\u003Cp>“Grandpa, it’s snowing again—so much snow!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yes, such heavy snow.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>On a biting winter day, as another new year approached, a great snowfall blanketed Fengzhou once more in silver.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once-green peaks had turned white as snow, lying like slumbering beasts beneath clear sky, glinting with cold light; winding rivers lost their roar, lying stiff as white ribbons across the valleys, steeped in deep chill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along the western bank of the river, dense forests everywhere were encased in ice and snow, transforming into an endless sea of jade trees and crystal branches; when the wind passed, a soft rustling rose, stirring up thousands of piles of snow dust.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the entrance of Baiyang Village in Wenhé County, outside Fengzhou Prefecture, a group of half-grown children sprinted across the snow, leaving behind a patchwork of footprints.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To their west, a group of elderly farmers sat quietly, clad in thick, dark cotton robes with sleeves folded over their arms, watching their grandchildren dash about.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Their expressions were serene, their eyes filled with doting affection—but beneath that tenderness lay a deeper sorrow, causing them to fall silent at intervals during their idle chatter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“The grain caves on the mountain were dug since autumn—have they been finished?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“As per Third Grandpa’s inquiry, they’re nearly done. Grandpa will announce it in a couple of days; then everyone can store their grain inside as backup. But the ratio of grain to keep versus grain to store is up to each household.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How did Old Nian’s family decide?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We keep one-tenth, store nine-tenths.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“So much?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Better to tighten our belts now than starve later.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As Old Nian spoke, he sucked twice on his pipe; the smoke from his mouth mingled with the thick winter mist.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, all fell silent; faint sighs could be heard with every breath.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet from their clothing, they weren’t destitute—their cotton robes were well-padded, their bodies neither gaunt nor frail—but their words brimmed with despair for the future.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Amid this silence, a group of strong laborers arrived from the east end of the village, one carrying a wooden ladder, others holding sacks, strolling toward them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Qingsheng, isn’t your child about to start school?” Old Nian asked, seeing the newcomers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Age-wise, yes—but who knows?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You must ask next year. If they can go, let them—even learning a few characters is better than nothing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uncle’s right, but… I fear there won’t even be a school next year.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Qingsheng smiled wryly, told the ladder-bearer to set the ladder down before his uncle’s door, then climbed up and reached out for the items below.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those below swiftly passed up paper lanterns for the New Year and couplets symbolizing bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But strangely, the lanterns they hung were plain white—not festive red—and the couplets pasted on the door were white too, and completely blank. Not only were they devoid of joy, they seemed downright ominous.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Indeed, they were inauspicious: according to Fengzhou custom, white lanterns and blank couplets were used only when a family had lost a loved one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the farmers sitting by the wall showed no anger—as if this were entirely natural.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In fact, it wasn’t just this village; the neighboring village, and the one beyond that, even all of Fengzhou this year had done the same.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It wasn’t ordered by the government or pre-arranged—it was a silent, coincidental consensus.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, Qingsheng finished hanging the lanterns and pasting the couplets, then led his group to the next house. The elderly farmers said nothing as he left—some smoked, others remained silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, the children who had run far away came rushing back in a noisy group.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Grandpa, Ming says he’ll take us to play in the big courtyard in town.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A half-grown boy named Shaobing, his nose running, told Old Nian, who sat by the wall.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hearing this, their expressions changed slightly; they called all the children back: “How many times have we told you? Stay away from town.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why, Grandpa?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just don’t go—especially not near those grand mansions. They’re the immortals’ places.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Shaobing frowned: “We went often last year—why not this year?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The oldest child was only ten; the youngest, five. They understood little of the world.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They only knew that since autumn, when the trees turned golden, their families had suddenly forbidden them from wandering far—especially warning them never to approach those ornate mansions.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But children’s curiosity couldn’t be restrained; once an older child suggested it, they couldn’t help themselves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, some began to cry—but even then, they were denied permission and dragged straight home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Nian raised his hand and wiped Shaobing’s snotty tears with his rough knuckles.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Once, children in Fengzhou could roam freely—but since a certain day in autumn, everything became uncertain, for on that day, Fengzhou’s sky collapsed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Go home, child. Your father’s frying nian gao.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Grandpa, I don’t like nian gao…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Foolish child—whether you’ll ever eat such food again is uncertain. Do you know that when people are truly starving, even tree bark won’t remain in pieces?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Old Nian spoke with quiet sorrow, then heard a call from behind—he saw the elderly farmers who had chased their children home standing before the village’s stone mill, waving to him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He sent Shaobing home, clicked his pipe, and followed the others toward the low hill behind the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This was another Fengzhou custom: after hanging lanterns and pasting couplets, they invited their ancestors home for the festival.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They burned spirit money, lit incense and candles, and in the icy, deep earth of the graveyard, a group of hunched figures worked tirelessly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the spirit money before the ancestral graves burned to ash, they rose and bowed three times—thus inviting the ancestors home.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they did not hurry away; instead, they lined up and climbed the hill to a small temple, lighting the extra incense they’d brought and placing it one by one into the tiny incense burner before the temple.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ji You, native of Yuyang County.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Age seventeen; his entire clan slaughtered for defying an immortal sect; he alone survived, with no home left.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After three years of hidden cultivation, he entered the Heavenly Book Academy, then founded the Immortal Village, seized tax authority, abolished oppressive levies, and relieved the people’s suffering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>During the snow disaster, when spirit stones ceased to be supplied, he opened granaries to feed the starving, founded the Wu-Lü Trading House, hired laborers to aid the hungry, and saved countless lives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the autumn of Taiyuan Sixth Year, he ascended to heaven, eternally reaching bliss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before the temple, the villagers bowed deeply before the statue of the sword-wielding immortal.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Young Master, it’s time to go home.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They hung white lanterns, pasted blank couplets, invited ancestors, swept the house—the New Year arrived amid drifting snow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In Shengjing, banquets and music filled the streets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In a house without walls on the east side of Chunhua Alley, a man in plain robes fried nian gao, accompanied by a noble young lady, serene and obedient.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In appearance, the two were well-matched in age—both in their twenties, one vigorous and radiant, the other graceful and slender.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet for some reason, the man’s temples were streaked with white hair, thick patches of silver that clashed with his youth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As the oil bubbled, the first batch of nian gao emerged; the man used chopsticks to lift one piece and placed it on the young lady’s plate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When the golden-fried nian gao cooled slightly, she tasted it, then nodded gently and said, “Delicious.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man smiled, then fried the rest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After turning off the heat, he stepped outside and ordered one portion sent to the orphanage in the north; the rest he packed into a basket, took wine and dishes, and walked out with the young lady.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sssss—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Snow beneath their steps sank; snow clinging to branches shook loose at their touch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon, two trails of footprints stretched from east to west across the entire long street.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, the man and woman, holding paper fans, turned into the third alley and arrived at a wooden door; after long thought, he pushed it open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a large estate: fronting the street was a shop; the rear courtyard was elegant and secluded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet the fallen leaves frozen in the ice of the pond made it clear no one had lived here for a long time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After crossing the threshold, they stood inside for a long while; then the woman spoke first: “The market assistant will arrive soon—I’ll go tidy the kitchen. You cook later.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man nodded gently, watched her head toward the kitchen, then placed the basket on the balcony and took out a bundle of incense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Holding the incense, he pushed open the main hall door, stepped across the threshold, and gazed at the ancestral tablet placed within.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It had been nearly half a year—sometimes he still couldn’t accept that his friend had returned to the Dao.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Especially in the early days after learning of it, he stayed day and night in the Celestial Supervision, searching every medical text he could find—and that’s how his temples turned white.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the truth remained, whether you believed it or not—it was simply there.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So later, everyone stopped arguing, believing peace was all that mattered; together, they held a memorial in Fengzhou.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They never intended to make a grand affair—but someone leaked the news, and the entire populace of Fengzhou came to bid farewell, their weeping filling the sky.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His friend’s life on earth was brief, yet left a mark so profound even history could not ignore it—yet he himself never saw any of it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After the memorial, Ji Brother was not buried in Fengzhou; he was taken away by the Junior Keeper of Lingjian Mountain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had no living kin, so the Junior Keeper alone decided how to handle his remains.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The daughter of Yu Danzong later followed to Lingjian Mountain; Yuanchen returned to the Sacred Land of the Ancients to continue repairing it with his father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The others all returned to the Heavenly Book Academy—some entered seclusion, others resumed cultivation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From autumn to winter’s end, half a year had passed; everything seemed quiet, and the world, unchanged by any loss, continued its course.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet at certain moments, he still felt a hollow space in his heart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The man recalled for a while, then lit the incense and placed it in the burner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Brother Ji, the New Year has come.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This winter’s snow was heavy, but no disaster brewed—because the autumn harvest was good, so few will starve this season.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Huwa from the orphanage has grown; he’s left the compound and now works at Taiping Pavilion. He’s diligent—earning his own keep is no problem.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How is it up there? Is it truly as they say—free and auspicious?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Just don’t throw a tantrum and steal the Heavenly Lord’s silver again—you’ll only draw his wrath.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“According to Qingyun custom, the departed return home during the New Year. I don’t know if you’ll go to Fengzhou, Lingjian Mountain, or here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But to ensure you don’t come back and find no one, Wei Rui and I decided to spend the festival here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In past years, you cooked for the New Year—this year, rest. Let me handle it.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he murmured, he wiped the ancestral tablet with a silk cloth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside the courtyard, the wealthy young lady had already cleaned the kitchen, and the vegetable vendor from Dong Market had delivered the produce she had ordered, placing it beside the stove; now she gazed from afar at the main hall, waiting calmly and without haste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After a long while, the man stepped out through the door, wiping his eyes as he entered the cooking room, then picked up the cleaver, brought the cleaned cutting board from the corner, and began chopping vegetables in a methodical manner.\u003C\u002Fp>",1966,"2026-06-19T15:28:41.422Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","6c321332dfb8a33ca8d6fc36974bbb1a254529d15e515456246eaca09560c11c","watching-the-immortals-fall-chapter-399","watching-the-immortals-fall-chapter-397",430,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fwatching-the-immortals-fall-cover.jpg"]