Cultivating To Immortality

Within the painting world, the self-immolation stele.

The stone stele was broken, but the four large characters "The Great Dao Has No Techniques" Dao Technique could vaguely be seen.

Wu Zheng and Wei Dao looked at the inscription before them, feeling a sense of regret.

Wei Dao felt a bit indignant: "I say, Lao Wu, we are really too unlucky."

"All this way, it’s either been empty or someone has already been here. We finally found this place..."

He glanced at Lin Qinglong’s place of self-immolation, seemingly fearing some indescribable entity, and unconsciously lowered his voice.

"We finally found this place, and there’s still nothing..."

Wei Dao had wanted to follow those three Loose Cultivators to see if there was an Opportunity to ambush them.

But... this Lao Wu beside him, they had grown up together since childhood, and he knew exactly what kind of person he was.

Wu Zheng was too kind-hearted. Not to mention ambushing Loose Cultivators, he wouldn’t even contend for treasures with others.

Only those few phrases could be heard from him.

"Suffering losses is a blessing," "peace and harmony," and so on.

Perhaps this was also why he had Cultivated for so many years in the Cave Abyss Sect and still couldn’t Breakthrough to the Late Stage of Qi Refining.

On the Grand Dao of Cultivation, if one doesn’t contend or snatch, what kind of Immortal is one Cultivating to become?

He wasn’t some Innate Dao Body or an Immortal Lord’s Reincarnation... "It’s fine, it’s fine. A setback may turn out to be a blessing in disguise."

"Lao Wei, didn’t we also kill a talisman puppet and get a Mid-Grade Spirit Stone?"

Indeed.

Wei Dao waved his hand dismissively, too lazy to explain.

He thought to himself, next time he would absolutely not go out with this old fellow to seek any Opportunity again.

Before the cold self-immolation stele, the bare skeleton sat there, its skull bowed.

Sighing lightly, Wei Dao bent down and bowed three times.

"Let’s go..."

The two walked back the way they came, one in front of the other, with no one else around.

Seeing his dear friend so dejected, Wu Zheng felt quite apologetic.

Besides that, a strange feeling arose from deep within him.

Wei Dao walked ahead, muttering to himself: "This trip was really unlucky."

"I say, Lao Wu, if you want to go a few more steps and live a few more years on this path of Cultivation, you need to train your courage."

"If you don’t contend or snatch, how will you obtain spiritual resources? If you give up this, and forget about that..."

"Won’t others Cultivate this Dao instead!"

Wu Zheng followed slowly behind, caressing the ink jade thumb ring in his hand.

His gaze lingered on his old friend, as if he were hesitating about something.

"Lao Wei..."

"Hmm?"

"You say... who is stronger, you or I?"

"Are you confused? Why ask that?"

Wei Dao didn’t turn his head: "If you’re talking about spiritual power Realm, then of course you are higher."

"Although it’s an outer Sect, the Cave Abyss Sect can at least allow you to Cultivate peacefully."

"If you were a Loose Cultivator with your personality, I don’t think you’d survive three days."

Wu Zheng looked at his old friend’s back, and that inexplicable strange feeling in his heart grew stronger.

Wei Dao stroked his chin and said playfully: "But if we’re talking about fighting and killing, Dao Technique and Daoist techniques, then of course I have the upper hand."

He turned around, about to say something more.

But he saw an ordinary short knife already plunged into his heart.

Completely unprepared.

"..."

Puff.

His "old friend" clutched the hilt of the knife tightly.

"You..."

Wei Dao’s throat rolled with a metallic sweetness, his eyes wide with disbelief as he looked at Wu Zheng.

This kind old man, who didn’t even dare to kill a chicken, now had a cold indifference towards life in his eyes.

For the first time in forty years.

"You lied."

Wu Zheng caught the limp body, looking down at Wei Dao’s wide eyes.

He pulled out the short knife, and blood splattered on his right hand.

A crimson streak slowly disappeared into the ink jade thumb ring.

When did he start to become like this?

Once alone with those weaker Sect Disciples or spiritual beasts, an uncontrollable killing intent like this would rise in his heart... He let go, and Wei Dao’s now cold corpse fell to the ground, his eyes still open.

Dying with grievances.

Suddenly, Wu Zheng started to cry.

He sobbed loudly, beating his chest and stomping his feet.

But it wasn’t because he regretted killing his old friend... "Lao Wei..."

"Why are you... so weak..."

Alone, he cried like a madman for a long time.

He stood up and took Wei Dao’s qiankun bag.

He actually dug a pit next to Lin Qinglong’s place of self-immolation and properly buried Wei Dao.

"..."

Wu Zheng never thought about why he had become like this.

Only occasionally, when he recalled the fellow Disciples and spiritual beasts who had died by his hand, would he ask himself:

"Should the weak die?"

Whether they should or not... they were dead anyway... At a certain moment, the spiritual essence within the painting seemed to flicker, present yet absent.

Everyone in the Realm felt the colors of this world, like ink dripping into water, begin to gradually dissipate.

A moment of trance, and they were transported out of the painting world.

Song Yan looked up and scanned, only five people remained.

Although he was mentally prepared, a chill still ran through his heart.

"Oh? Five Fellow Daoists are still alive?"

Che Ning still wore the bronze mask, his tone somewhat playful: "How delightful and congratulatory."

All the Cultivators looked at "Che Ning" with some wariness, but he didn’t care about the gazes of the others. With a flicker of spiritual light in his hand, the huge scroll on the wall suddenly contracted and shrunk.

Finally, it transformed into a scroll, which Che Ning held in his hand.

"Hahahaha, everyone, no need to worry. I only wanted these two ink treasures, and I, Che, always keep my word."

"Now that everything is settled..."

"Until we meet again."

He gave Wu Zheng a meaningful look, then was the first to leave the place.

Song Yan also noticed that the Fellow Daoist surnamed Wei, who was with Wu Zheng, did not emerge from the painting world.

He just didn’t know what had happened inside.

Perhaps thinking of Dan Zifeng, Song Yan suddenly lowered his head in thought.

Making a Cultivator disappear silently in this world... didn’t seem too difficult.

The Cultivators also left one after another.

Walking out of the Immortal Cave, they found that at some point, the waterfall here had resumed its flow.

Song Yan and the couple Rong and Wu temporarily returned to Lingxi Market, found a secluded spot, and wanted to first divide the qiankun bags of the three Loose Cultivators.

These three Loose Cultivators must have encountered talisman puppets earlier, and a total of three Mid-Grade Spirit Stones were found in their qiankun bags.

For Cultivators in the Middle Stage of Qi Refining like them, such items were very difficult to find unless it was during a Secret Realm exploration.

It was meaningless for ordinary Cultivators in the Middle Stage of Qi Refining to carry a few Mid-Grade Spirit Stones in their qiankun bags.

The qiankun bags of the red-skirted female Cultivator and the young man were nothing special.

In the red-skirted female Cultivator’s qiankun bag, there was a rather well-made human skin mask.

It was unknown where it came from.

Perhaps because this human skin mask belonged to a male, the red-skirted female Cultivator had not used it.

Song Yan pondered for a moment, told the couple, and then put it into his own qiankun bag.

This kind of item had some use, but no practical value.

Rong and Wu naturally wouldn’t quibble over it.

If they were to argue with Song Yan over every little detail, it would be too meaningless.

What truly made everyone pause was a Daoist book found in the Confucian-robed Cultivator’s qiankun bag.

"The Incomplete Manual of Dao Technique."

"..."

"The Incomplete Manual of Dao Technique..."

Rong Xiaofeng recalled carefully, seemingly remembering something.

"Senior Lin Qinglong, on that tomb passage, seemed to have called himself..."

Song Yan nodded and said: "The Loose Cultivator of Dao Technique."

Wu Huaguo’s eyes widened, and her breathing quickened.

"..."

Inside the room, a silence fell.

Song Yan himself had no use for these things. He also had no Family to give back to; even if he kept them, he would just find a place to sell them.

He was waiting now.

Waiting for the two opposite him to make an offer.