I'm Not An Immortal (The Adventure of Jian Chou) - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

“……”

The tone was gentle and unhurried, yet Jianchou inexplicably sensed a vast, heaven-defying grandeur in those words!

Her heart suddenly pounded like thunder, and she raised her eyes to look.

The boy did not turn back.

Jianchou didn’t know how long she had been silent.

Feeling the scorching sunlight fall into her eyes, she blinked lightly and smiled.

“Then I’ll just take ‘Morning Life.’”

Only “Morning Life,” not “Evening Death.”

“Just ‘Morning Life’?”

The boy slowly turned his head and looked at Jianchou, smiling.

He sat down again, gazing at the crimson sun floating over the vast, deep-blue sea.

His fingers rested on his knees, and his voice was ethereal. “That works. I don’t have a name yet, so I’ll just be called ‘Zhao Sheng (Morning Life).’”

Jianchou was startled and opened her mouth to say something.

But then—

The boy suddenly tilted his head toward the west, frowning.

Following his gaze, Jianchou saw a deep blue streak of light cutting across the distant sky, accompanied by a loud shout: “Jianchou,girl! Jianchou,girl!”

Jianchou’s face lit up with joy.

She immediately stood and waved toward the light.

“Master, I’m here!”

The streak of light paused mid-air.

Standing atop the blue radiance, Fudao Shanren finally spotted Jianchou and swiftly changed direction to approach.

Earlier, she had thought Fudao Shanren would surely be in grave danger inside Qingfeng Temple.

Though she had told Zhang Sui and the others she wasn’t worried, those words were more to comfort them—and herself.

Now, seeing him appear, still full of vigor as he called her name, Jianchou felt a surge of happiness.

A bright smile spread across her face.

Then, she suddenly remembered the boy.

“This is the interesting person I mentioned—”

Her voice cut off abruptly.

By the pond, there were only a few mayflies fluttering their delicate wings.

Their newly born bodies, bathed in the scorching sunlight, glowed faintly like fireflies from the night before, almost translucent.

Their wings, smaller than grains of rice, were so thin they seemed invisible.

The rocks around the pond were covered in moss, including the slab where Jianchou had been standing moments ago.

But the boy was gone.

The moss on the stone showed no signs of being pressed, as if no one had ever been there.

The boy who had called himself “Mayfly” seemed like a dream Jianchou had just woken from—now vanished without a trace.

Jianchou was momentarily dazed.

She turned in a slow circle, scanning the area.

The stone pond was the same as last night, with no trace of anyone hiding.

She stood still, the boy’s breathtaking words still echoing in her mind.

Perhaps… he had left?

She lowered her gaze to the stone slab where he had stood.

Just as she was about to turn and speak to Fudao Shanren, her eyes suddenly fixed on the slab.

This small stone pond on Ascension Island likely went unnoticed most of the time.

A slab about a feet long lay slanted by the water’s edge, its corners covered in moss, the center coated in dust.

Jianchou slowly walked over and bent down.

After a brief hesitation, she reached out and brushed away the damp soil from the middle of the slab.

As the dust and dirt were cleared, the hard stone surface beneath was revealed.

Deeply engraved lines gradually appeared.

Jian Chou took a few steps back to take in the full image—it was a single character.

(Zhao).

Morning?

There was nothing else.

Jianchou was stunned.

The slab looked like a toppled stone tablet, but its base was broken, as if it had snapped off.

“Whoosh—”

A sudden gust of wind kicked up sand and pebbles behind her.

“Aiyo, damn those idiots! They nearly killed this old man… Wuwuwu, my poor back…”

With a thud, Fudao Shanren finally landed.

He retracted his battered, cracked sword—Wujian—and immediately began whining.

Jianchou quickly turned to look.

Covered in blood and grime, his robes in tatters, his wrinkled face etched with exhaustion, he looked even more disheveled than when they’d first met.

And of course…

Jianchou also noticed the large white goose clutched tightly in his arms—a goose that looked utterly indignant.

When they had gone to Qingfeng Temple earlier, Fudao Shanren had been carrying the goose.

But when he’d dragged Jianchou along as a last-minute addition, the goose had disappeared.

At the time, Jianchou had assumed her long-time companion, the white goose, was gone for good.

But now…

The corner of her mouth twitched.

Listening to Fudao Shanren’s exaggerated complaints, any sympathy she might have had evaporated.

“At a time like that, Master, you were still carrying the goose?!”

“Of course! This is my precious white goose!”

Far from being ashamed, Fudao Shanren seemed proud.

Exhausted, he stuck out his tongue and plopped onto the ground, letting out a long sigh.

He stroked the goose’s head repeatedly, the smooth feathers pleasant under his fingers.

“Ahhh, this is the life…”

With each stroke, the goose trembled, flapping its wings in clear dissatisfaction.

Unfortunately, Fudao Shanren was utterly oblivious to how abusive his actions were.

Satisfied, he turned to Jianchou. “What about you? Why do you have blood on you too?”

Blood on her too?

Jianchou had been staring blankly at Fudao Shanren’s antics and hadn’t expected him to suddenly bring her up.

Now, looking down, she saw faint bloodstains on her clothes.

She remembered.

“It’s not mine. It’s… Junior Sister Xiaowan’s.”

“Did something happen?”

Fudao Shanren stopped petting the goose.

Frowning, he studied Jianchou closely.

Though her eyes were bright, her expression was far from relaxed.

He had long noticed the discord among those four.

But in such a dangerous situation, even if they had conflicts, they would have suppressed them.

Moreover, Jianchou had no stake in their affairs.

Even if they had gained something inside the secret realm and later developed grudges, it shouldn’t have involved her.

When he had dragged Jianchou along as a last-minute addition, it was partly because she fit the role and partly because she faced almost no danger.

So what had gone wrong?

Fudao Shanren waited for her answer.

Jianchou collected her thoughts and recounted everything that had happened after leaving the teleportation array in Qingfeng temple’s depths.

At first, Fudao Shanren listened calmly, but his frown deepened as she continued.

“You said the one chasing Xu Lan’er was named Tao Zhang?”

“That’s the name.”

Jianchou recalled Xu Lan’er’s words and added, “Xu Xu Lan’er said he’s from the Wuyi Sect.”

Jianchou knew nothing about the sects of the Nineteen Continents, and Fudao Shanren was well aware of that.

After a moment’s thought, he explained, “The Wuyi Sect is among the top five of the Left Three Thousand sects in the Central Region—what we call the ‘Upper Five.’ Xu Lan’er is from a minor sect like Jianzhu, yet she dared to attack a disciple of the Wuyi Sect? Serves her right.”

“Upper Five?”

Jianchou had more questions.

“Ah, forget it. I wasn’t planning to tell you all this yet, but since we’re almost at the Nineteen Continents, you ought to know.”

A chicken leg appeared in his hand.

He took a bite, devouring half of it in one go.

Jianchou watched, speechless.

Between chews, Fudao Shanren continued, “The Nineteen Continents are divided into four regions: South, North, Central, and Polar. I’ve told you that before. Simply put, the Central Region is the middle part. To its west lies a vast expanse of mountains, rivers, and plains, home to countless sects, large and small. Due to their sheer number, they’ve been collectively called the ‘Left Three Thousand’ since ancient times. The top five among them are the ‘Upper Five,’ followed by varying numbers of mid-tier sects—sometimes ‘Middle Fifty-Six,’ sometimes ‘Middle Two Hundred Fifty.’ The rest are all lumped into the ‘Minor Three Thousand.’”

“I see. What about the Left Three Thousand Assembly?”

Jianchou suddenly asked.

Fudao Shanren paused.

“How do you know about that?”

“Junior Sister Xiaowan mentioned it.”

At the mention of Nie Xiaowan, Jianchou’s expression dimmed slightly.

“She seemed eager to participate and asked if I would go. I didn’t know, so I didn’t answer.”

“Go! Of course you’ll go!”

Fudao Shanren’s eyes bulged, his demeanor instantly imposing.

He tossed the chicken bone aside.

“It’s been ages since I last attended the Left Three Thousand Assembly. Let me tell you, it’s a grand event in the Central Region! Countless sects from the Left Three Thousand select their disciples to compete, and every session produces dazzling talents! Back in the day, your master here made his name at the Assembly!”

Jianchou understood—it sounded like the imperial examinations in the mortal world, but the Nineteen Continents were surely more free-spirited.

Curious, she asked, “Did you place first at the Assembly, Master?”

“……”

Damn it, this is unbearable!

Fudao Shanren stared at Jianchou with a deeply aggrieved expression, as if seriously considering bundling her up and tossing her into the sea to feed the fish.

It took him a long moment to calm down.

With forced serenity, he said earnestly, “Disciple, fame and fortune are worldly illusions. How can you focus so much on rankings? Let me tell you…”

Oh.

Jianchou glanced at him.

She knew this tone all too well.

Pretending not to notice, she said, “Your disciple humbly accepts your teachings. So Master must have been incredibly impressive back then, surpassing all rivals?”

“What’s so impressive about that?”

With just that bit of praise, Fudao Shanren’s tail was already wagging.

He stroked his sparse beard with an air of grandeur, adopting the demeanor of a lofty expert.

“Each generation has its own talents. In three years, your master will be counting on you to bring him glory!”

“……”

Suddenly, the pressure felt immense.

But along with it came a strange sense of yearning.

What exactly was Nie Xiaowan so eager to see?

Jianchou blinked.

“Will Xu Lan’er be there? Also, if Tao Zhang can seek revenge on Xu Lan’er and even gouge out her eyes, can I do the same?”

“Cough! Cough! Cough!”

Fudao Shanren, who had just pulled out another chicken leg, nearly choked on a bone.

He stared at Jianchou in astonishment.

“Are you insane? Do you want to avenge Nie Xiaowan?”

“Not exactly… I just can’t swallow this anger.”

Jianchou was merely asking—just in case.

“Tsk tsk.”

Fudao Shanren twirled the chicken leg in his fingers as he circled Jianchou, eyeing her thoughtfully.

The more he thought about her question, the more he liked this disciple of his.

“Master?”

Jianchou had no idea what he was scrutinizing and began to feel uneasy.

Fudao Shanren chuckled.

“You… once we return to Yashan, focus on your cultivation. The Nineteen Continents are a wonderful place. As long as you’re stronger than others, you can do anything—take revenge, even slaughter your way across the Nineteen Continents, and no one will dare lift a finger against you.”

Right.

Jianchou recalled the unspoken rule she had grasped when Nie Xiaowan and Zhang Sui discussed whether to bring her along.

So it was universal.

The corners of her lips curled up.

“Then I’ll have to rely on Master’s guidance.”

“Don’t worry, my disciple won’t be mediocre! A puny sect like Jianzhu? I’ll take you to crush them someday!”

Fudao Shanren took a bold bite of his chicken leg.

“And that heartless husband of yours, wasn’t it? If he ever steps onto the path of cultivation, he’ll make his way to the Nineteen Continents eventually. We’ll flatten him too!”

Heartless husband?

Jianchou froze for a moment, then laughed.

Her eyes curved into crescents as she thought of Old Monster Hengxu’s disciple from Kunlun, the one who had built his foundation in ten days.

A storm of emotions surged in her heart.

The sea breeze brushed her face, the sun now blazing overhead.

Jianchou glanced around and suddenly remembered the time.

“Master, the teleportation array on this island was destroyed by Xu Lan’er. How do we leave?”

“Easy.”

Fudao Shanren waved it off and walked over, extending his hand.

“Give me the bamboo pole.”

Jianchou looked at him silently.

Fudao Shanren blinked.

“I said, hand over the—”

He abruptly shut his mouth.

Jianchou’s lips stretched into a smile—one so kind it was terrifying.

“Master, isn’t this the precious Nine-Jointed Bamboo you painstakingly cut from the South Sea?”

She remembered clearly—back in Qingfeng Temple’s depths, when she had called it a “bamboo pole,” Fudao Shanren had lectured her sternly.

And now…

Heh. Interesting.

Realizing his slip, Fudao Shanren’s eyes darted around as he feigned nonchalance.

“Ah, the wind’s so loud… can’t hear a thing. I’d better go fix that teleportation array.”

Inwardly, he was weeping.

Using the bamboo pole to draw an array was easy.

Using anything else would cost him dearly.

But now, there was no way he was asking Jianchou for the “bamboo pole”—no, the Nine-Jointed Bamboo!

Resolved, Fudao Shanren marched toward the teleportation array like a man heading to his doom.

Jianchou picked up the bamboo and looked at it, too exhausted to even roll her eyes.

She followed her unreliable master to the array, watching him work, when a phrase suddenly popped into her mind.

“Master, I have one more question. What does ‘dao companion’ mean?”

“Crack.”

Fudao Shanren had just picked up a rock to test its suitability when Jianchou’s question hit him.

His grip slipped, and the rock shattered in his hand.

He looked up at Jianchou as if she had grown a second head.

“Y-You… Don’t tell me someone actually wants to be your dao companion?!”

Jianchou was taken aback.

Fudao Shanren wailed, “Heavens! Earth! This is unjust! This old man has been single for so many years! How is this fair?!”