Eternal Life: I Can Sell Everything

Song Ciwan’s heart leaped into her throat. Someone—some *thing*—had silently crept up behind her!

In that instant, Song Ciwan instinctively did two things: accelerate with her Escape Technique, and immediately channel her Divine Soul Power to activate Bright Vision.

Bright Vision would allow her to perceive the states of all auras within a hundred-foot radius without needing to turn around.

But to her horror, both her accelerated Escape Technique and her Bright Vision failed at that very moment!

It was as if she had sunk into an invisible mire. The viscous air felt like a giant tank of water, and immense pressure squeezed her from all sides.

Her Bright Vision was suppressed to a radius of about one foot, allowing Song Ciwan only to vaguely sense a woman’s phantom-like figure behind her. The specter wore ornate robes and a high chignon, her face pale white, her lips jet-black. A delicate fragrance emanated from her, and her eyes were filled with sorrow... She seemed to have no bones as she leaned her entire body onto Song Ciwan’s back.

An indescribably eerie and bewitching aura slowly began to spread.

Song Ciwan felt it. This was a Mysterious Ghost Spirit!

This eerie aura was remarkably similar to the one she had encountered when the convoy passed through Cold Hill Mountain.

’A Mysterious Ghost Spirit appearing at night in Huailing City?’

’But aren’t these spirits unable to leave their place of origin?’

’Cold Hill Mountain is its domain, but it should also be its prison!’

’How did it escape its prison and enter the city at night?’

As her thoughts raced, Song Ciwan loosely clenched her left hand into a fist at her side. She prepared to summon the Profound City Life and Death Seal at a moment’s notice while silently invoking the Dharma Transmission Skill.

She no longer tried to turn around. Instead, she stood her ground and suddenly sighed, "Foolish child!"

Two simple words, yet they echoed into the night like the toll of a temple bell, carrying a primitive, ancient resonance.

The Dharma Transmission Skill slowly began to work.

Behind Song Ciwan, the woman’s expression seemed to falter, as if she were stunned.

Song Ciwan said, "The Divine Venerable has descended. There is the Lower Dao, the Middle Dao, and the Upper Dao. Which Dao does the Wayfarer wish to hear?"

The woman asked, "What is the Lower Dao, what is the Middle Dao, and what is the Upper Dao?"

Her tone was ghostly and her voice bewitching, yet it held a strange, refined elegance. She sounded like a truly lost soul asking a teacher for guidance.

But Song Ciwan knew the one behind her was no simple matter. If she answered poorly, she would surely suffer the backlash.

The night wind drifted past, carrying a sinister chill. Song Ciwan focused her mind, calmed her breath, and spoke slowly. "The Lower Dao is the art of prayer and curses. When mortals are helpless, they pray to gods, make offerings to the heavens, and curse their enemies, hoping for a divine miracle... Of course, the final outcome is still left to the will of heaven."

"That is the Lower Dao?" The ghostly woman frowned. "The will of heaven is both cold and ephemeral. No wonder seeking it is considered the lowest path."

She then added in a daze, "But those people... they prayed to the heavens daily, they worshipped Buddha daily, they cursed their fate and blamed others daily. Did they not know this was the Lower Dao?"

Song Ciwan offered no comment, only continuing, "The Middle Dao is the art of seeking help from others. If one can find the right person to ask, one might escape their predicament and end their suffering by borrowing another’s strength. However, the hearts of others are just as fickle and uncertain. A passing thought can move them to help you, but it can just as easily move them to harm you. And even if their heart is willing, they may lack the strength."

The ghostly woman said, "Yes... even if his heart was willing, he may have lacked the strength... He truly was willing, but he was powerless, utterly powerless!"

Her tone grew sharp on the last sentence.

The chill in the air grew even more intense and sinister.

The ghostly woman’s emotions were becoming unstable. Her previous refined elegance was like a flimsy paper mask, ready to be torn to shreds at any moment.

Song Ciwan didn’t know when the spirit would lose control, so she spoke quickly, "Therefore, does the Wayfarer not understand? A great rain cannot nourish a rootless plant; a boundless Daoist Skill can only ferry those with whom it has a connection. If a person does not save themselves, not even Heaven can protect them!"

"What did you say? You say *I* didn’t save myself?" At last, the woman’s eyes shifted. A moment later, she shrieked.

She was draped over Song Ciwan’s back, and her once ethereal body suddenly became incredibly heavy. It felt like a boulder, no, a mountain, seeking to bend her spine and crush her bones!

But Song Ciwan stood firm. The Divine Technique of Infinite Power flared to life as she straightened her back and declared proudly, "Self-reliance! That is the Celestial Dao! It is the Upper Dao, and it is the Dao that we Divine Envoys must spread to the world!"

"As Heaven’s movements are vigorous, so must the noble person ceaselessly strengthen themselves."

"When Heaven tasks my body with labor, I ease my mind to compensate."

"When Heaven obstructs me with circumstance, I advance my Dao to overcome."

"When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility upon a person, it first visits their heart with suffering, their sinews and bones with toil, their body with hunger, and their person with poverty, and confounds their undertakings. By these means, it stimulates their mind, hardens their nature, and improves their deficiencies."

"Wayfarer, a boundless Daoist Skill can only ferry those with whom it has a connection."

"Will you curse your fate and blame others? Or will you ceaselessly strengthen yourself? Will you only seek help from others? Or will you turn your heart to the righteous path and understand that it is better to rely on yourself than on anyone else?"

"You ask what Dao the Divine Venerable can transmit to you? The Divine Venerable transmits the Upper Dao! Will you listen, or not?"

Word after word, sentence after sentence.

Within Song Ciwan’s body, the True Qi from her Sutra of Sitting and Forgetting was rapidly depleting. The formless ripples generated by the Dharma Transmission Skill were so intense they nearly shattered all the meridians in her body.

She was preaching the Dao to the Mysterious Ghost Spirit, but was she not also preaching it to herself?

As Heaven’s movements are vigorous, so must the noble person ceaselessly strengthen themselves.

This was the true Upper Dao!

Song Ciwan had listened. But would the Mysterious Ghost Spirit behind her listen as well?

The Heaven and Earth Scale manifested, collecting several clumps of aura one after another: [Great City Level Mutated Mysterious Ghost Spirit, Hate, Sorrow, Malice, nineteen taels, exchangeable.]

[Great City Level Mutated Mysterious Ghost Spirit, Confusion, Joy, Resentment, twenty-one taels, exchangeable.]

[Great City Level Mutated Mysterious Ghost Spirit, Resentment, Pain, Joy, twenty-eight taels, exchangeable.]

[Great City Level Mutated Mysterious Ghost Spirit, Realization, Realization, Realization, 3.7 taels, exchangeable.]

...

But Song Ciwan was reaching her limit. The Mysterious Ghost Spirit was having a realization, but the pressure on her back was only growing heavier.

It was as if one mountain had become two.

She hissed, the words forced from between her teeth, "Foolish child, let go of the past! Redeeming yourself is also a path of self-reliance! If you torment yourself, Heaven will not pity you. If you save yourself, Heaven will respect you! Do you understand?"

BOOM!

As she finished her last sentence, a flash of lightning appeared in the dark sky.

Inky clouds gathered in the deep night sky.

Behind Song Ciwan, the ghostly woman let out a silent scream. She covered her face with her hands, crying out, "AHHH—"

The cry was inaudible to mortals, yet it nearly pierced Song Ciwan’s eardrums.

The Heaven and Earth Scale manifested again: [Great City Level Mutated Mysterious Ghost Spirit, Sorrow, Joy, Sorrow, eleven taels, exchangeable.]

The Mysterious Ghost Spirit fled before the lightning could illuminate the night.

In that instant, the ghostly woman vanished.

Song Ciwan staggered, her body lurching forward as she nearly fell to the ground.

Then, a clap of thunder descended from the sky. Accompanying the flash of lightning was a seemingly unremarkable strand of Spiritual Light, which shot down and landed on Song Ciwan.

Song Ciwan ached all over, but she was stunned.

’What was that... falling from the sky?’

It was a Celestial Spiritual Light!