My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 665 - 439: I Am Not Myself (Two in One)

The Taoist didn't know whether he felt sorrow or joy, only that he kept shaking his head repeatedly, a faint smile on his face.

Originally, he had believed his cultivation was insufficient, making ascension impossible, requiring another lifetime to achieve the Dao and attain immortality. Yet upon seeing the ground covered in fallen feathers, he suddenly understood that "he" had already transcended and ascended long ago.

To transcend and ascend immortality meant to thereafter share an eternal lifespan with heaven and earth, and to forever enjoy the indescribable beauty of longevity that mortals could only dream of.

But what did this "he" have to do with the current him?

Sorrow… Joy?

Lament...

After his laughter subsided, the grey-clothed Taoist sighed softly a few times before turning back to the three and said:

"So it turns out that I, too, was one of the three corpses, troubling you all."

Lu Ying returned to her senses, glanced at the fallen feathers by the meditation mat, and then at the grey-clothed Taoist, her Heart Lake slightly rippling.

She felt as if something gently knocked against her Dao heart, but she could not quite articulate the taste of that feeling.

Do people pursue longevity purely for longevity's sake?

If it were merely for longevity, this Taoist ought to be overjoyed; yet the reality was a mix of sorrow and joy.

Lu Ying could not comprehend it fully. The scene etched an imprint on her heart, like a wine starter settling at the bottom, fermenting slowly.

Min Ning and Yin Weiyin were affected as well, though not as deeply as Lu Ying. Min Ning never sought immortality to begin with, and found the moment more bittersweet; Yin Weiyin, whose Dao heart was steadfast and unyielding, believed firmly that such a predicament would never befall him.

They were not lost in doubt.

Min Ning spoke up: "As for this ghostly mist..."

The grey-clothed Taoist glanced around the sitting and dying place and said softly:

"You must have heard of the method of cutting the three corpses to ascend to immortality. Within the human body dwell three corpses. Once severed, they ought to vanish from this world. However, the Sword Intent within the Sword Pool is overwhelming and imbued with spiritual nature. Under such nourishment, my three corpses developed sentience.

The three corpses are inherently born from inner demons. Long ago, I entrusted others to rid me of these demons, yet I unknowingly nurtured them instead. Thus, the demons were extinguished only to be reborn, and reborn only to be extinguished.

As for this ghostly mist, I will handle it myself and dissolve it into the heavens and earth."

Min Ning nodded, thinking to herself that this saved her some trouble.

If the grey-clothed Taoist refused to resolve it on his own, she would have had to lend a hand.

Surveying the sitting and dying cave once more, the grey-clothed Taoist took in his surroundings. This place was his dwelling, yet it held nothing aside from a meditation mat, a straw raincoat, a few Eight Diagrams Mirrors, and a horsetail whisk whose hairs were shedding.

The Peach Wood Sword had grown moldy.

The grey-clothed Taoist said: "This humble abode is crude and lacks anything suitable for guests, so there is no need to linger."

With that, he picked up the token beside the meditation mat and passed it over with a sleeve.

Min Ning received it and cupped her fists in gratitude.

"You will likely encounter inner demons of transformation on your way up to the mountaintop. Beware — they,"

The grey-clothed Taoist paused momentarily before continuing:

"are mostly Taoists transformed into specters, concealing deceit behind smiles and striking with hidden blades."

Min Ning replied calmly: "Thank you, Daoist elder."

The grey-clothed Taoist gathered a faint smile and said:

"Head up the mountain first. I would like to linger here for a moment."

With mutual candor, Min Ning and the others nodded respectfully before turning away.

Lu Ying could not find peace in her heart. After walking about ten steps, she instinctively turned back to glance behind, only to see the Taoist with his hands pressed together in a gesture that seemed to be offering blessings.

She wanted to ask him what he thought but could not bring herself to say the words. The figure in the mist was fading.

Lu Ying turned her head away again and resolved not to look back.

As the grey-clothed Taoist watched the three of them depart into the distance, he turned back to look once more upon the sitting and dying cave.

Lowering his head, he gazed intently at the feathers scattered upon the ground.

"We Taoists often hear the saying 'In the morning hear the Dao, in the evening one may die.'

...But what should I make of myself?"

Softly plucking a single fallen feather, the grey-clothed Taoist pondered.

The ascended individual — he could not recall their name; only that they had been the chief overseer and elder of Chongyang Temple, gradually attaining enlightenment after decades of secluded cultivation beside the Sword Pool.

Faint memories flickered, as if vivid and clear in his mind,

yet that was him, and not him.

To hear the Dao in the morning, to die in the evening?

"If there is no birth, how can there be death?"

The grey-clothed Taoist knelt deeply toward heaven and earth, then picked up the moldy Peach Wood Sword, brushing away its stains.

In the next instant, the sword fell.

Between heaven and earth remained only a long, drawn-out sigh:

"Suddenly, the autumn breeze scatters the mist; flowers bloom and fade, yet I am not who I was."

......

The thin mist finally dispersed.

The three women climbed over the dirt slope. Lu Ying's Ten Directions Boots stepped over a clump of weeds along the path. Seeing the forest mist dissipate almost entirely, her state of mind did not ease but instead sank a few degrees deeper.

Lu Ying herself did not know what she was thinking. A seventeen-year-old girl, she had only recently come to realize that there were many things she could not understand.

Whether it was loneliness, immortality, or the Chen Yi whom Min Ning and Yin Weiyin constantly fought over — all of it mixed together chaotically, twisting and tangling into one knotted mess, thick and clinging with no end.

Lu Ying yearned to understand it all, but the more she tried, the more muddled her mind became. At that moment, she thought of her junior sister who was only one or two years younger, nearly the same age. Though they had not spent long together, she often saw Yin Tingxue carefree and cheerful, wandering Yin Sword Mountain with a yellow dog in tow.

Things were different from how they once were.

She could still remember the time she first met her, when the autumn sunset painted the heavens, and a faint sense of sorrow lingered between Yin Tingxue's brows.

Now, as Lu Ying felt sorrowful herself, she could not help but wonder: from the time they met in the Capital City to their reunion at Yin Sword Mountain, what had caused such a change?

Was it because Chen Yi was no longer there?

Thinking about it, it made sense. Min Ning and Yin Weiyin had clashed over that man, and encountering him herself had brought nothing but trouble...

If all the blame could be placed on him, then let it all rest on him.

All of it — the fault of Chen Zunming.

The three women walked for quite a stretch. The mist dissipated, yet the sky remained heavy and overcast. A bolt of lightning struck the mountaintop, illuminating the surroundings in stark whiteness.