Eternal Life through Drawing Lots

Silence reigned on the fifth floor of the Scripture Pavilion.

Fang Yang, holding the Wenshan Pen, was calm and composed.

But upon seeing this, Sen Hui’s slender brows rose slightly. "What... What is going on?"

How could a Spiritual Object just appear on its own and throw itself at Fang Yang?

If she hadn’t known that Fang Yang had never been to the fifth floor of the Scripture Pavilion before, Sen Hui would have suspected it was a Spiritual Object he had left behind.

"This is the Wenshan Pen. To activate it, one needs literary energy," Fang Yang said with a faint smile.

He handed the Wenshan Pen to Sen Hui for her to inspect.

Then, he bent down, picked up a Dharma Jade Scroll for a skill called the Thunder Mountain Skill, and began to read it calmly.

It was as if the Wenshan Pen had never appeared before him at all. He seemed tranquil and serene, possessing an air of transcendent detachment.

However, the appearance of the Wenshan Pen didn’t just capture Sen Hui’s attention. It also drew the notice of Sen Wei, Sen Yue, and Saint Fan Liu, who were watching from the shadows.

They all turned their gazes to look at Fang Yang and Sen Hui from afar.

Sen Wei: "I never expected a Spiritual Object to be hidden in the Scripture Pavilion. This is quite a surprise."

Saint Fan Liu stared at the Wenshan Pen in Sen Hui’s hand, a complex look in her eyes.

She sighed softly and revealed some unknown secrets.

"This is the Wenshan Pen. Although the passage of time has caused it to regress into a Tier Four Elemental Artifact, its foundation is that of a Tier Five Elemental Artifact."

"With the right opportunity, the Wenshan Pen could be restored to a Tier Five Elemental Artifact. It might even be possible for it to evolve into a Sacred Artifact..."

As it turned out, the Wenshan Pen had once been forged and used by Father Sen.

It had accompanied Father Sen through his time as a Mortal Cultivator, becoming imbued with a minuscule, imperceptible trace of Great Saint Dao Intent.

After Father Sen became a Great Saint, he gifted this treasure to his younger sister, Sen Yuanyuan.

But due to a series of accidents, Sen Yuanyuan suffered an incurable injury.

Before she passed away, Sen Yuanyuan specifically entrusted Fang Nian with returning the treasure to Father Sen.

The sight of the object brought back painful memories, and Father Sen couldn’t bear to look at it. In the end, he placed it in the Scripture Pavilion, to be left for someone with fate...

"To think that after all this time, the Wenshan Pen would appear before Fang Yang and Xiaohui."

Saint Fan Liu’s eyes dimmed. "There’s a saying in this world about flowers that look alike. Could it be... that this is another cycle?"

Sen Yue flicked the sleeve of his Daoist robe and declared unequivocally, "There is no cycle to speak of! Tragedy will not repeat itself!"

In truth, to a certain extent, Fang Yang possessed great fortune, and his temperament was worthy of Sen Yue’s high regard.

In other words, Fang Yang truly had a chance to walk the path of the Kun-Peng, and perhaps even had a hope of becoming a Great Saint!

But compared to his younger sister, Sen Hui, Sen Yue was confident that he could suppress his peers even without that revered true inheritance with its unparalleled offensive power.

"That’s right. There are no similar flowers," Sen Wei said with a faint smile, her eyes narrowing as she gazed at Fang Yang and Sen Hui in the distance.

...

「Seven days later.」

The Thunder Festival was approaching, meaning the new year was only five days away.

Under these circumstances, Fang Yang prepared to bid farewell to Sen Hui and return to the Fang Clan’s Residence.

After all, he, Fang Yang, was a man of unyielding integrity, not some live-in son-in-law of the Sen family.

Of course, perhaps to outsiders, the way he depended on Sen Hui made him look no different from a live-in son-in-law of the Sen family.

But he was always keenly aware that while he could rest for a time on Sen Hui’s Yimu Green Tree, he was ultimately destined to journey to the heavens and seek Changsheng.

"RUMBLE..."

It was a pitch-black, rainy night, so dark you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face.

A torrential downpour rained from the sky, as if an entire ocean were being poured out.

Gusts of wind rose from time to time, accompanied by lightning and thunder, as if the world itself were proclaiming its mighty power to all living things.

At this moment, Fang Yang stood before the door of a small house, holding an oil-paper umbrella.

And before him stood Sen Hui.

"Ah Yang, why don’t you wait for the rain to stop before you go back?" Sen Hui asked, her face full of worry.

Fang Yang gave a faint smile. "Second Uncle Fang is waiting for me outside. It’s fine."

Hearing this, Sen Hui gently bit her red lip.

But she knew very well that once Fang Yang made a decision, he almost never changed his mind.

After a moment, she took a deep breath and had Fang Yang lean down.

Suddenly, she rose onto her tiptoes and, like a dragonfly skimming the water’s surface, brushed a kiss against Fang Yang’s cheek, pulling away in an instant.

But the bright, lovely blush on her face proved that what had just happened was no illusion.

At that moment, Fang Yang gazed into her limpid autumn-water eyes and saw only unwavering determination, without a hint of retreat.

Seeing this, Fang Yang’s heartstrings trembled violently, causing monstrous waves to churn and roll across the clear lake of his heart.

...

「A day and a night later.」

Accompanied by Second Uncle Fang, Fang Yang returned safely to the Fang Clan’s Residence.

The moment he appeared, Clan Elder De and the other old men all came out to greet him, afraid that something might have happened to him.

This was because he had already become the Qilin son of the Fang Clan.

The clan elders knew it was relatively normal for him to run into some bumps on his path of growth, but they still didn’t want any accidents to befall him.

"Hm?"

"Ah Yang has really changed a lot."

"Indeed. It’s like the transformation from a stream into a vast ocean..."

They were astonished when they sensed that the aura emanating from Fang Yang had become more restrained, yet also sharper.

While they were delighted, they also felt a little uncertain and suspicious.

Fortunately, Fang Yang’s own actions dispelled their suspicions.

Inside the Fang Clan Ancestral Hall, the Divine Tablets were hung high.

"Ah Yang," Clan Elder De said softly, "we old fellows have already taken care of Fang Xili and the others for you..."

Fang Yang nodded from time to time as he listened to the clan elder’s words.

He knew that Fang Xili had been exiled to watch over the fish at that dilapidated place, Qingshi Pond.

In addition, the others had also been dealt with to varying degrees.

Furthermore, under various pretexts, Fang Xili and the others had been forced to give up significant benefits, allowing Fang Yang’s restaurant and winery to expand considerably.

Of course, these weren’t things Fang Yang particularly wanted.

He just wanted to see what the extent of the clan elders’ support for him would look like.

And now, it seemed to be excellent!

This group of clan elders truly saw him as the one to carry the mantle.

With this, his White Feathered Eagle Bronze Tribe could finally get on the fast track.

「Night.」

The stars twinkled brightly. Fang Yang returned to his own small house, sealed the door, and began to cultivate in seclusion.

"RUSTLE RUSTLE..."

Now that he was back, he could finally activate the [Profound Realm].

At this moment, using the Profound Realm Secret Technique, he frantically consumed his accumulated resources, using up all of his various scriptures in one go.

First, he transformed the Thunderous Strike Skill, then the Thunderfire Wings, and finally, the Little Whale Swallowing Skill.

Throughout this process, phantom images and afterglows frequently appeared, illuminating the entire area.

This spectacle not only surprised Fang Min and Fang Hao, but it also left Second Uncle Fang and the clan elders dumbfounded.

As for the younger generation like Fang Xuan and Fang Lanxi, they felt as if they were listening to a heavenly scripture, lost as if in a dream.

Unbelievable. This was simply unbelievable.

Could this be the difference between a mere mortal and a chosen one of heaven?

The gap was just too immense!

"I’m not dreaming, am I...?"

No one knew who had uttered those words.

Afterward, everyone silently stared at Fang Yang’s small house, their faces numb with shock.