Chapter 2059: Would You Still Wish to Cultivate?

Yin Shan had left, and the sky was drawing near dusk. Ye Chen packed his belongings, crossed the noisy street, and returned to the small garden.

That night, the small garden had visitors—not just one, but three: Ling Feng, Yang Xuan, and Shangguan Jiu. They were the former top three in the Wu Lin rankings, always good friends, though their behavior left something to be desired. They had traveled a long way to Zhu Xian Zhen, arriving empty-handed.

Of the three, Shangguan Jiu was the most brazen. Without a word, he dashed into the house, rummaging through Ye Chen's room until he turned it upside down. Finally, he emerged grinning, clutching two jars of wine.

"This guy does the same at your places?" Ye Chen said meaningfully.

"Once a day," Yang Xuan replied with a heavy sigh.

Ling Feng said nothing, but his expression said it all. The only edge he had over Yang Xuan was that he occasionally beat up Shangguan Jiu to keep him in line. Over time, that had made Shangguan Jiu behave, though since he couldn't take on Du Gu Jian Sheng, he picked on Yang Xuan instead, always leaving his place in total disarray.

"Typical of people from Da Chu," Ye Chen muttered to himself, stroking his chin. He figured he should take this guy back to Da Chu for a spin, to show him what real shamelessness looked like—any random person from Da Chu could outdo him by miles.

"Make yourselves at home and drink up." The self-proclaimed "Chaotic Blade Maniac" showed no shame, acting like he owned the place. At first glance, you'd think he was the host.

Yang Xuan and Ling Feng helped themselves without hesitation, leaving Ye Chen a bit annoyed. His stash of fine wine was being polished off again, and he made a mental note to get back at this type someday.

After a few rounds, Yang Xuan sighed, "I never imagined you were a Xian Ren." Shangguan Jiu chimed in with his own endless sighs. It seemed Ling Feng had already told them about Ye Chen's identity as an immortal, nearly shocking them speechless. Now it all made sense—why Ye Chen was so powerful and why his fortune-telling was always spot-on.

"You haven't even scratched the surface of what you don't know," Ye Chen said with a laugh.

"Come on, tell us about the Xiu Xian world! We're itching to cultivate immortality ourselves," Shangguan Jiu said cheerfully. His words caught Ling Feng and Yang Xuan's attention too—they wanted to hear what the immortal realm was like and how it differed from the mortal world.

Ye Chen smiled and tilted his head back, gazing at the stars. "The world of Xian Ren is vast beyond measure. People can soar through the skies, topple mountains and overturn seas with a wave, or shatter the heavens and earth with a flip of the hand. Their lifespans range from a few hundred years to a thousand, even up to ten thousand. The realm of cultivators is colored in blood—a raw, brutal red. They walk the path of Xiu Xian, treading on bones and bloodshed."

Ye Chen's words flowed steadily, simple and unadorned.

The small garden fell into a long silence. Yang Xuan and the others listened quietly, lost in deep thought, as if Ye Chen's description let them glimpse ethereal realms. On the surface, it seemed glamorous, but in reality, it was brutally harsh, where lives were cheaper than weeds.

"So, are you still willing to cultivate immortality?" Ye Chen asked, smiling at the three.

"Absolutely," they replied in unison.

Ye Chen smiled but said nothing more. He wondered if guiding them into Xiu Xian was the right choice. A thousand years from now, they might resent him. Compared to the endless bloodshed of immortality, the brief hundred years in the mortal world might be the better fate.

The night grew deeper.

The three, thoroughly drunk, used their inner energy to sober up and teamed up to spar with Ye Chen. Unfortunately, even at his peak, they couldn't withstand a single move from him.

Still, they took it in stride. After all, Ye Chen was a Xian Ren with profound foundations—losing to him wasn't humiliating. If they had the same level of power, the outcome might have been different.

Ye Chen was generous, passing on various secret techniques tailored to each of them. For Ling Feng, he taught Feng Shen Jue, Wan Jian Chao Zong, and Wan Jian Gui Yi. For Shangguan Jiu, it was Ba Huang Zhan. For Yang Xuan, it was Tian Gang Zhen and Ba Huang Quan.

Only then did the three truly grasp Ye Chen's fearsomeness. Forget the rest—these secret techniques alone were unheard of in the mortal world. Any one of them would cause a sensation in Wu Lin.

"When do we head to the cultivator realm?" they asked Ye Chen under the old tree.

"Wait," Ye Chen replied, taking a swig of wine. "Could be three to five years, or maybe decades, even a hundred."

Their mouths twitched at the corners. "A hundred years? We'd all be in our graves by then."

"When the time comes, I'll seal you away for a few hundred years. No problem at all," Ye Chen said casually. He had already picked out suitable spots for the seals—like ancient tombs.

The three exchanged glances and swallowed hard.

Sealed for a few hundred years? How audacious was that!

Still, they were certain Ye Chen could pull it off. As a Xian Ren, he had all sorts of methods beyond their comprehension as mere mortals.

As dawn approached, the three finally left, not lingering in Zhu Xian Zhen. They each went their separate ways, perhaps to wander or tie up loose ends. They wanted to take one last look at their homeland and visit old friends—who knew if they'd still be around when they returned.

What treasures they were!

Watching their retreating figures, Ye Chen's expression turned meaningful. Taking them to the cultivator realm would require time, but they were bound to shake the heavens. Each would become a monstrous talent, holding the line against outsiders from other realms.

By now, daylight had fully arrived, and Ye Chen, who hadn't slept, grabbed his things and headed out.

For the next few days, he kept the same routine: out early, back late, telling fortunes and divining.

The remote areas remained peaceful, but the bustling regions were in chaos. The eight warlords had fully erupted into war, allying to seize treasures and territories in fierce battles. Smoke filled the skies, blood mist hung in the air, and corpses littered the ground.

Their conflicts brought misery to the common people. Refugees were everywhere—some lucky ones evaded the fighting, while the unlucky were caught in the devastation, many dragged off as conscripts. Cries and wails echoed across the land.

The war dragged on for half a year, leaving all eight warlords battered and bruised before they finally settled down. Each focused on strengthening their domains, building armies and wealth, only to gear up for more fighting. They wouldn't stop until the land was unified.

Even Zhu Xian Zhen, in its remote corner, wasn't spared.

Sometime later, soldiers from Qi Wang's army appeared nearby. Back when the eight warlords divided Yan Wang's territory, this land, including Zhu Xian Zhen, had fallen under Qi Wang's control. Now they were regrouping, and everywhere with people fell under their management.

Today, Ye Chen's business was slow, with few coming for fortunes. He was glad for the quiet, dozing off at his table and ignoring the outside world.

Yang Ge Lao arrived, bringing a jar of fine wine.

Ye Chen caught the wine's aroma and opened his eyes, glancing at the old man before turning his attention to Xia Lan. He was particularly focused on her swollen abdomen—in a few months, his grandchild would be born.

"Have a seat," Yang Ge Lao said, making space for Xia Lan to sit. Then, with a worried look, he turned to Ye Chen. "Check her pulse, will you? She's been feeling worse lately. Is this normal for pregnant women?"

Ye Chen didn't reply but placed three fingers on Xia Lan's wrist.

Xia Lan's condition wasn't great. Her face was pale, and she lacked energy. Strangely, her pulse had two rhythms—one from the child in her womb, strong and steady, and her own, which was weak.

After a few seconds, Ye Chen withdrew his hand.

He knew exactly what was wrong with Xia Lan. She wasn't an ordinary pregnant woman, and the child wasn't ordinary either. In her womb was a Tian Sha Gu Xing, which, from the moment it formed its own spirit, constantly drained her life force. Over the next ten months, her health would continue to decline, and when the child was born, it would be the end for her.

"Well?" Yang Ge Lao asked hopefully.

"Nothing serious," Ye Chen said with a smile, quickly writing down a few herbal prescriptions to nourish her qi and blood. He knew they wouldn't help much, but it was better than nothing.

Yang Ge Lao trusted Ye Chen completely and hurried off to get the herbs.

Xia Lan watched Yang Ge Lao leave, then turned back with a smile at Ye Chen. "I know my own body best, senior. You don't need to hide it from me. Have I got some incurable disease that no medicine can cure?"

"Don't overthink it. You'll live a long life," Ye Chen said with a laugh.

Xia Lan wanted to ask more but held back. She stood and returned to the tavern, coughing along the way. Her health was indeed poor, and even her own skills had weakened.

Ye Chen sighed. From that moment, he could no longer divine Xia Lan's future. It was all because of the Tian Sha Gu Xing—its fateful aura was gradually overtaking hers, and there was nothing he could do about it. After all, he was just a mortal right now.