Chapter 407: White City Encounters an Immortal

Ning Changjiu saw an immortal.

When he ascended the Ascension Platform for the second time, he had anticipated seeing something different, but what he witnessed still surpassed his wildest imagination.

On the Ascension Platform, rice simmered in a bubbling pot over the stove. Shao Xiaoli leaned against Ning Changjiu, sensing that he had fallen asleep.

Rather than simply sleeping, he had entered a profound, ethereal state.

Lu Jiajia held his hand. Both their cultivation scriptures had reached an extremely high level, allowing their minds to instantly generate thoughts and their spirits to ascend. With the immense thrust from the Sea of Consciousness, their spirits could pierce the void like sharp rays of light, reaching the heavens.

She knew Ning Changjiu's consciousness had left his body but was unsure where he had gone. She simply held his hand to prevent any unforeseen incidents.

Ning Changjiu arrived at a height unreachable by the Taiyin's gaze.

Only today did he realize that the story of White City from long ago was true.

An immortal truly had ascended here, and had... remained here.

The immortal Ning Changjiu saw was a pile of white fragments.

He didn't know how to describe them; perhaps they were like a scoop of snow, or torn paper, or even the initial form of a human before embryo development.

The height was incredibly cold. This coldness seemed to penetrate beyond physical manifestation, invading Ning Changjiu's pure consciousness.

White City... Ascendants...

Was this what the Vermilion Bird had implied?

Ning Changjiu looked at the "immortal" before him, unable to determine what kind of being it truly was.

Then, this cluster of white fragments became aware of his presence and began a conversation with him.

"Is someone there?" the immortal asked.

"Yes," Ning Changjiu replied.

"Don't go up," the immortal said.

"Go up? Does 'go up' mean ascension?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Yes," the immortal replied. "Going up means being torn apart, just like I am now."

"Are you an ascendant from White City?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Yes, that's where I achieved enlightenment," the immortal said. "But I shouldn't be called an ascendant; we are all paper figures."

"Paper figures?"

"Yes, ascendants are all paper figures." As he spoke, his body seemed like shredded paper.

"Are there many other paper figures like you?" Ning Changjiu asked again.

"Many... but they should all be dead. I was lucky to survive." The immortal's words conveyed fear.

"Who killed them?" Ning Changjiu asked, despite knowing about the existence of the Dark Lord.

"A ghost," the immortal stated firmly and simply. "There is no Immortal Court in the sky, only ghosts. It's outside the gate, and it wants to come in."

"A ghost?" Ning Changjiu was surprised by this description of the Dark Lord. He asked, "Have you seen it?"

"No, I haven't seen it, but I've encountered it," the immortal replied.

"Then how do you know it's a ghost?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Before I became an immortal, I killed many ghosts, so I know it's also a ghost," the immortal said.

That statement was rather baffling, and Ning Changjiu wasn't sure how to interpret it. He could feel the immortal's fragments trembling continuously, seemingly from an ingrained fear. It was the innate human fear of ghosts, or perhaps of unknown life forms.

Ning Changjiu pressed on, "What exactly is this ghost, and where does it come from?"

The immortal's fragments glowed faintly white as they writhed within a limited space, like a pitiful worm.

The immortal couldn't answer, vaguely stating, "A ghost is naturally a karmic debt, an obstacle, accumulated resentment... Immortals are paper figures, but a ghost is a ghost."

"Is there a way to get rid of the ghost?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"A larger peach-wood sword and immortal talismans," the immortal said.

"How big?"

"I don't know, I'm not a Taoist priest." Fear was evident in the immortal's voice as he whispered, "Shh. Don't ask any more questions; it might be listening to us."

"Hmm... alright." Ning Changjiu looked up at the indescribable sky, feeling a chill once more. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Who left you here, and what is your current state?"

"I've been dismembered," the immortal replied. "The one who saved me told me to wait here for someone, a young girl. Are you the one I'm waiting for?"

Ning Changjiu shook his head. "I apologize, but I am not a girl, so I am not the one you are waiting for."

The immortal fell silent for a moment, seemingly engaged in deep thought.

"Perhaps the time hasn't come yet," the immortal said with some regret. In truth, he no longer had a concept of time.

Ning Changjiu roughly guessed that the one who saved the immortal was likely the Vermilion Bird, and the one he was meant to wait for was probably Xiang'er... or perhaps Jiuyu?

Ning Changjiu asked, "What happens after you wait?"

"Answer her questions, just as I am doing now," the immortal replied.

Ning Changjiu observed his fragmented state. The immortal couldn't speak, so their communication relied purely on spiritual connection.

"Can you still go back?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"No, I can't," the immortal said. "The path of ascension is one-way... because life and death are one-way. This is heaven; there's no Sea of Reincarnation."

Ning Changjiu sensed the complete emptiness and desolation around him. He couldn't pinpoint which cosmic region he was in; there were no spirit-devourers here, and the entire world seemed to consist only of this fragmented immortal before him.

Ning Changjiu looked at the immortal's writhing fragments and asked, "Do you regret ascending?"

"Yes, I regret it," the immortal said directly.

In the Luoshu Pavilion, many had insisted on rushing to the heavens, even knowing that ascension might be a deception and feeling no regret even if it meant certain death. Therefore, Ning Changjiu was somewhat surprised by the immortal's answer.

The immortal continued, "Ascension is meaningless because the world outside is also desolate. Even if one spends their entire life ascending, at most they will only leave this star sea, which holds no meaning for oneself or for the universe."

"Then what *does* have meaning?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Immortality," the immortal replied.

"Isn't immortality what ascension seeks?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"No, ascension and immortality are contradictory; this is something paper figures only realize after ascending." The immortal's words were faint, yet they conveyed endless regret. "Immortals have appeared in the world before, and they have already revealed the secret of immortality."

"Who are they?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"Di Jun and Chang Xi," the immortal said.

Ning Changjiu hesitated for a moment before asking, "What did they say?"

The immortal stated solemnly, "They said, 'Exist eternally with the world.'"

"'Exist eternally with the world'?"

"Yes, only by being one with the world can one exist eternally. As long as humanity lives, they live—that is what it means to be a Saint." The immortal's words drifted, carrying a sense of belated regret. "There is no world outside. The probability of a world being born is infinitesimally close to zero. Even deities like Zhulong, Tiancang, and Mingjun went through immense hardships to reach our world. We are, in fact, already within the Immortal Court of the universe; ascension is merely going to a larger graveyard."

As Ning Changjiu listened to his words, his mind became hazy.

The immortal's words contradicted the common understanding of cultivators: ascension was moving away from true immortality, and the real Immortal Court was, in fact, the mortal world...

"But cultivation is no different from farming or weaving; even without guidance from Saints, people would eventually comprehend these things on their own. So why is the ultimate goal of cultivation contrary to its very purpose?" Ning Changjiu voiced the confusion in his heart.

The immortal had clearly pondered this question as well.

He offered his uncertain guess.

The immortal asked, "Do you know when paper figures are made?"

Ning Changjiu thought for a moment. "When someone dies?"

"Yes," the immortal replied. "Perhaps paper figures are offerings."

The air currents in the sky drifted ethereally, like an icy river circling the world, freezing the paper figure's 'remains' here.

The immortal's physical body had long been destroyed, leaving only fragments of his Sea of Consciousness, serving as his thinking mind.

At that moment, after uttering the words "offerings," the immortal's mind began to tremble.

This trembling was caused by fear, though he did not know its origin.

Ning Changjiu also felt a chill.

"Offerings?" Ning Changjiu asked. "Offerings to whom?"

The immortal's consciousness twitched convulsively, producing no sound, only vaguely stating, "Perhaps our Mother Goddess knows."

The Mother Goddess he spoke of was the Seventh God.

He added, "It's also possible that the spiritual energy itself wants to escape."

Spiritual energy wants to escape on its own?

Ning Changjiu found this idea utterly preposterous.

Ning Changjiu didn't press further, intending to ask his remaining questions when he next saw his master.

His conversation with the immortal wasn't long, but the information conveyed was more than he could process at once.

Unsure what else to ask, Ning Changjiu instead asked, "Do you have any other secrets you wish to reveal? I can help you relay them to the world."

"No," the immortal replied. "Because the ghost will arrive soon... These past years, I've had nothing to do but think. I've considered many possibilities, but the more I think, the more despair I feel."

Ning Changjiu sighed. "Then is there anything I can do to help you?"

"No. You are not strong enough," the immortal said. "I am waiting for someone; perhaps after she arrives, I might survive."

The Vermilion Bird...

Ning Changjiu's heart sank slightly. He realized that everything they experienced seemed to follow the Vermilion Bird's arranged path. He knew his master wished to save all living beings, but what exactly did the Vermilion Bird seek?

Ning Changjiu said, "I wish you success in completing your mission."

"Are you leaving?" the immortal asked.

Ning Changjiu said, weary, "My spirit is almost depleted."

"Will you still come back to talk to me?" the immortal asked.

Ning Changjiu thought for a moment. "It'll be difficult; I'm leaving White City."

The immortal expressed some regret. "It's alright, I'm used to it."

His words conveyed loneliness.

He drifted between heaven and earth, a phantom nurtured by the Vermilion Bird. He had lost his physical body, dared not ascend further, and could not return to the human world. The cold stillness, lasting until death, was his coffin.

This strange conversation thus concluded.

Ning Changjiu's consciousness slowly drifted back into his body, like a snowflake settling back into White City.

He opened his eyes, gazing softly at the night sky.

The starlit sky was brilliant.

He couldn't pinpoint the origin of his emotions, yet only an immense sense of loss resonated within his heart.

"The porridge is ready."

Beside him, the girl's clear voice rang out.

Ning Changjiu came back to his senses.

Shao Xiaoli was stirring the porridge with a ladle. His conversation with the immortal had seemed lengthy, but in reality, only the millet in the pot had just begun to cook.

On the other side, Lu Jiajia quietly watched him.

"Why are your hands so cold?" Lu Jiajia asked softly.

With his spirit having left his body, his physical form was naturally in a semi-corpse state, growing increasingly cold.

Ning Changjiu didn't explain, simply smiling. "Then warm me up, Jiajia."

Lu Jiajia lowered her beautiful face slightly. She took his hand, tucked it into her sleeve, and gently squeezed it. "Is this okay?"

"Mm-hm."

"Your body also feels very cold..." Lu Jiajia said.

"What should we do then?" Ning Changjiu looked at Lu Jiajia.

They gazed at each other for a moment, their bodies instinctively drawing closer. Shao Xiaoli, holding a bowl and scooping porridge, chimed in, "It's alright if your body's cold! Hot porridge will warm you right up!"

With that, she served the porridge and first offered it to Ning Changjiu.

"Hmm... that's a good point."

Ning Changjiu released Lu Jiajia's hand, took the bowl of porridge from Xiaoli, and cupped it in his hands. "Thank you, Xiaoli."

Shao Xiaoli served a bowl for Lu Jiajia, then finally one for herself.

The three sat on the ground, leaning against the railing, and ate their porridge together. It was thick and sweet, bringing warmth to their bodies.

Shao Xiaoli secretly watched Ning Changjiu while eating her porridge.

She noticed that Ning Changjiu's gaze was unfocused, as if he were constantly lost in thought.

"Master, what's wrong?" Shao Xiaoli reached out and waved her hand in front of his eyes.

Ning Changjiu took a small sip of his porridge. "Nothing... this porridge is quite delicious."

"You taught me how to make it back then, after all," Shao Xiaoli said proudly.

Lu Jiajia frowned. "What's this story I don't know about now?"

"Well... it's just porridge," Ning Changjiu said, unsure how to explain. "Basically, it was a dish Xiang'er used to be very good at making."

Lu Jiajia was surprised. "Xiang'er was good at making food?"

"Yes, because porridge only requires rice and water, and the water measurement doesn't need to be too precise. In short, Xiang'er, despite her cleverness, could barely manage dishes with only two ingredients..." Ning Changjiu teased with a smile.

Lu Jiajia also chuckled. "I'll relay that to Xiang'er later."

"Oh... is Mistress trying to use a borrowed knife to kill someone?" Shao Xiaoli giggled, pursing her lips, then used a slender finger to push a grain of rice from the corner of her mouth into it.

Wrapped in blankets, the three finished their porridge with laughter and conversation. The stove fire died out, and the lingering embers were carried by the wind, drifting towards the sky.

Ning Changjiu looked at the constellations in the sky and casually spoke of the Twelve Divine Lords.

"After today, only two days will remain in this month. By then, we will have completely passed the Quanlin Star and arrived at the Tianji Star," Ning Changjiu said.

"Tianji?"

"Yes, a mythical celestial steed that breathes thunder and fire. Its divine kingdom is called Scarlet Line."

"Where is Scarlet Line?"

Ning Changjiu had her clench her fist, then drew a circle in the center of her palm, saying, "Our star is roughly spherical, and Scarlet Line is probably around this area... It's one of the hottest places in the entire world."

Shao Xiaoli nodded thoughtfully.

Ning Changjiu said, "Legend has it that in the Year of Tianji, the Tianji will gallop ceaselessly across the Scarlet Line at unimaginable speed until the Year of Scarlet Line concludes."

"Um... it couldn't have gained its divine position just for being fast, could it?"

"It's actually quite possible." Ning Changjiu didn't have many impressions regarding this but chuckled. "If that's the case, then we won't have to worry too much next month."

Shao Xiaoli nodded earnestly.

The name "Quanlin" immediately gave her a bad impression; just thinking about it made her imagine a wicked woman. She truly wished for this period to pass quickly.

Ning Changjiu knew that the Dark Lord was also waiting for an opportune moment.

Rashly illuminating a divine kingdom held little meaning because the Yuanfu Divine Kingdom had not yet closed. No matter how powerful the projection of a divine kingdom's lord, it couldn't truly threaten his master... If he were the Dark Lord, which point in time would he choose?

One Sin Lord, two Hoof Mountains, three White Hidden, four Yuanfu... Ning Changjiu counted on his fingers, silently reciting the chant.

In November, they would pass the Yuanjun Star.

In December, it would be the Jufu Star.

Jufu...

Ning Changjiu's heart tightened slightly; he vaguely understood something.

Tianji was keen on racing, and Yuanjun had aged after the Primordial Divine War. If anyone most desired the death of a Saint, with the most resolute killing intent, it would be the newly appointed Jufu.

Would it be December?

If so, everything would appear to be proceeding systematically. After the lunar eclipse, he and his master would have half a month to prepare.

But as Ning Changjiu looked at the sky, he couldn't shake the feeling that a change was fast approaching.

After eating the porridge, the three snuggled together and slept for a while.

When they awoke, the stars still hung in the sky.

Ning Changjiu used his sword-fire to instantly evaporate the dew around them. He packed up the stove and blankets. By the time he returned, Xiaoli and Jiajia were also awake. They were like campers who had spent the night out, returning to Huanpu Mountain before dawn.

"Once the Quanlin Moon safely passes, let's set off for the Central Plains," Ning Changjiu said, looking at Lu Jiajia as she tidied her clothes.

Lu Jiajia looked up, habitually tucking her hair back. "Are all the matters in Nanzhou settled?"

"Yes," Ning Changjiu nodded. "The karmic ties are mostly repaid."

"In that case, let's head back soon. We'll pack up these two days, and I'll go say goodbye to Yazhu," Lu Jiajia said.

Shao Xiaoli heard their conversation and felt a little nervous.

She was looking forward to seeing Siming again, but as for Liu Xiwang and Ning Xiaoling, she had only heard their names and never met them, so she wondered if they would be easy to get along with.

"Don't overthink it, Xiaoli," Ning Changjiu said, seeing through the girl's thoughts. He ruffled her hair, then took out the pear she had given him earlier, turned it, and aimed the smiling face towards Xiaoli.

Shao Xiaoli looked at it and couldn't help but smile, her mood significantly improved.

She looked at Lu Jiajia, who had her back to them, then suddenly picked up the pear, kissed it, and pressed it onto Ning Changjiu's face like a stamp.

Ning Changjiu froze for a moment. He quickly looked at Lu Jiajia, touched his cheek, and held his breath.

Lu Jiajia noticed nothing, still tidying her clothes and now arranging dolls.

Ning Changjiu gave Shao Xiaoli a helpless glare, snatched the pear, and tapped her on the head.

Shao Xiaoli was already a graceful young woman, yet she still stuck out her tongue like a little girl.

"What are you two doing?" Lu Jiajia, sensing something amiss, turned her head.

She saw them standing normally, with nothing out of the ordinary.

Lu Jiajia, frowning, turned back around.

Ning Changjiu recovered from his tension. Avoiding Shao Xiaoli's gaze, he casually said, "I'll go back to the pavilion to cultivate for a while."

Ning Changjiu returned to the room alone. He looked at the paintings hanging on the wall; perhaps by coincidence, one of them depicted Hou Yi shooting down the suns.

After admiring the painting for a while, he summoned the Golden Crow. Ning Changjiu's expression instantly turned serious. He temporarily cast aside the distracting thoughts that had arisen from his conversation with the immortal last night, his mind becoming calm and focused.

He entered the third divine pillar.

The scorching suns hanging in the sky were like falcons, staring intently at him. He stared back at them, drawing a bow.

The bow he drew was not the one on his back, but a colossal bow spanning the Central Plains.

This bow was so immense that it was impossible to say what terrifying divine power was needed to draw it. As he pulled, the entire earth's crust trembled with his bowstring.

The suns in the sky also trembled.

Targeted by the arrowhead, the falcons ceased to be falcons. They shrieked sharply and hoarsely, transforming into the raucous crows of dusk.

The suns shrieked, threatened, tempted, swore, cursed...

"Even if you kill all of us, Xihe cannot live!"

"His Majesty Dragon Sparrow's benevolence covers the four seas; you cannot fight against him."

"Give up struggling; it will only diminish your divinity."

"Lord Yi, you and Lady Chang'e are already like stray dogs."

"You could have lived carefree beyond the heavens, yet you insist on seeking death... Your era is over. Put down your bow; worshipping the sun is what humans ought to do."

Silence!

Ning Changjiu opened his eyes. He felt divine power surging within him. He tightened the bowstring, and after pulling it to its limit, he released it.

The arrow shot forth.

At that moment, let alone weeds, even the rocks around him reached intensely high temperatures in an instant. Their rugged edges began to soften, like soil thoroughly soaked with water.

They became martyrs to this golden arrow that tore through the sky, dying for it.

Thus, the place where he stood became like where the sun rises: golden light slowly ascended, and everything it touched became illuminated and blazing, turning magnificent and brilliant.

The golden light pierced through the suns in the sky. He heard screams and saw exploding blackness.

These false suns were black.

That blackness was made of crow feathers used for stuffing.

He continued to shoot arrows.

One after another, the suns in the sky exploded, and black crow feathers scattered everywhere, as if the torn night sky were shedding black snow.

Crows scattered in disarray.

Several more hours passed in the blink of an eye.

After meticulously examining every detail, Ning Changjiu broke free from the logic of the myth.

In the coming days, he would focus on mending the chapter of Hou Yi shooting down the suns, peeling back the mythical fog that shrouded it to reach the truth.

On the twenty-eighth day of the ninth month, the stars remained still.

On the twenty-ninth, everything remained peaceful.

Time advanced to the thirtieth day.

That evening, Lu Jiajia, like a diligent newlywed wife, personally cleaned the entire Sect Master's hall. Ning Changjiu and Shao Xiaoli tactfully joined in to help. After cleaning the hall and packing their bags, Lu Jiajia carefully closed the door, a reluctant expression on her face.

She was about to leave this place, where she had lived since childhood and which was filled with memories, once more.

Ning Changjiu took her hand.

"One always has to leave," Ning Changjiu said with a faint smile. "I like it here very much too, but the Four Peaks are not like the Lingluo fruit trees on the mountain that can be transplanted."

"What are Lingluo fruits?" Shao Xiaoli asked.

Ning Changjiu said, "They are fruits that aid cultivation. I used to feed them to Jiajia often."

Lu Jiajia cast a faint glare at him.

With Shao Xiaoli nearby, she did not flare up.

The three departed together on their swords.

Midnight.

The Quanlin Moon had passed.

Shao Xiaoli was about to celebrate briefly but suddenly sensed something was amiss. "Why does the sky seem darker?"

Lu Jiajia said, "Perhaps it's cloudy..."

Ning Changjiu nodded slightly, not giving it much thought. But only moments later, a sudden chill surged, shooting from his toes to his very core.

He abruptly looked up, his pupils constricting sharply.

The sky was cloudless for thousands of miles, and the stars twinkled irregularly.

But the moon had vanished.