My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 557 - Southern Dipper - Part 3
Li Yuan watched quietly from afar, chin resting on one hand, deep in thought. He came to the conclusion that Ying Zhuoyao had grown stronger, much stronger than before.
If she’d possessed these abilities during the upheaval caused by the Lotus Cult, the chaos would have been far greater.
“She’s been playing the fool all this time, hiding her claws,” he chuckled. “Poor girl.”
But what had caused such a dramatic change?
His smile faded, just slightly.
Yan Yu had once told him that the powers of jade husks like Peng Mingyi grew in proportion to the strength of the ghost linked to them..
The stronger the ghosts, the stronger they became.
It was nothing like Sheng’er, who was a complete anomaly.
Yan Yu herself was a total outlier, and so was Sheng’er. Unlike most jade husks, who were born of human parents, Sheng’er’s origins were infinitely more complex. That complexity had made her a truly independent being.
So now, with Ying Zhuoyao’s sudden surge in power, there could only be one explanation.
The Ghost Lake was gaining the upper hand in the great fusion war within the Underworld.
“Yan Yu...please, don’t let anything happen to you...” Li Yuan murmured silently to himself. But he knew, wishing alone wasn’t going to change a thing.
His mind was racing, threading together everything he’d learned from Ying Zhuoyao over the past few weeks, trying to tease some kind of answer from the web of scattered truths.
Outerborns were undying, indestructible.
The Southern Dipper had awakened, whatever it sought in this world would align with the Ghost Lake.
Yin and Yang had to be severed, and the three ancient halls were the key.
Human sacrifice, then sacrifice of rivers and mountains.
Ying Zhuoyao’s rise in power meant Ghost Lake was winning.
The power behind the Dragon Vein likely traces back to the Archon Star.
And Outerborns...were not singular.
The timeline was revealing.
The Xia Dynasty emerged 30,000 years ago. The Shang followed 5,000 years ago. The Great Zhou was only a little over 1,000 years old. But the sects ruling the Immortal Domain, those in the Eastern Sea, were only 3,000 to 4,000 years old at most, meaning they all rose after the Shang. This meant their lifespans were already nearing their end.
The so-called gods buried in the Deathless Tomb of the Western Extremes, perhaps they were just mighty cultivators from the Xia onwards. As for the burial ground itself, it wasn’t of their making. It had always been there, a mystery of the world long before any of them.
The ghost domains were merging. If one gained the upper hand, it would slowly devour and absorb the rest.
Li Yuan walked as he thought, countless threads winding through his mind. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦
Then, suddenly, he stopped. His pupils constricted, then slowly relaxed. He exhaled and shook his head, a sigh slipping past his lips. There was hesitation in his gaze.
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
June.
A rumor began to spread through the southern lands.
If one wished to rise further, truly set foot in the Immortal Domain, then on the final night of this year, at midnight, they should travel to Moon River Beach in Stellar Sea Province.
At that time, someone would appear to usher them into a transcendent sect.
And those transcendent sects were said to teach cultivation techniques beyond the fourth rank.
The moment this rumor hit the air, it was like water dropped into boiling oil, completely explosive.
Li Yuan continued his quiet stroll through the south.
In just six years, this once-rich third rank meat field had degraded all the way to ninth rank. Soon, even the term meat field would vanish from this land altogether.
The grand temple of Yan Yu, once echoing monthly and yearly with drums and ritual song, had fallen into a quiet decay. Though a few still lit incense now and then in search of her protection, she was gone. And soon, the once-glorious temple would be nothing more than a derelict shrine in the wilderness.
The Court of Judges, Bladeseekers, and wandering martial artists were all gone. Even those at sixth rank now dreamed of moving closer to the Central Capital.
And those who once fled south to escape the chaos? They didn’t dare return.
They hid, living like hermits in the wilds, or blending in with ordinary folk. They barely maintained their cultivation by hunting southern demonic beasts.
So when the rumor of joining a transcendent sect reached their ears...it spread like wildfire.
Discussions began cropping up everywhere.
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On the edge of the Sunset Rainforest, inside a simple tent, a white-robed woman sat with a black-and-white sword strapped to her back and a wine gourd hanging from her waist.
Her face, once spirited and wild, was now shaded with gloom and fatigue. This was Gu Xuejian.
Across from her sat a man in scholar’s robes. His once-sharp demeanor had been dulled by years of hardship. He looked worn down, weary. This was Yan Mu, who had only just recovered after two years of near-death sleep, wounded while fleeing from the Emperor’s assassins.
Beside them was another man, removing poison from a festering wound—an elder of the Cui Clan, though not Cui Wuji. Cui Wuji had already fallen in battle, killed while facing the Emperor’s forces.
The elder asked, “Temple Master, do you think this rumor is true?”
“True or not, we have to try. We don’t have any other options,” Gu Xuejian replied.
“Could it be a trap?”
“The Human Emperor fights openly and with honor. But it could be the work of his subordinates, trying to gather us all in one place for a final purge. Even so...” she looked out at the dusk-dim sky, “we still have to go.”
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Little Ink Village.
Tie Sha and Fang Jianlong met beneath the old tree at the village entrance.
“Did you hear the news?”
“I heard.”
After that simple exchange was silence.
“I want to go,” Fang Jianlong said suddenly.
In his mind flashed the image of the Crimson Flame Child he’d seen that day. He had never imagined that a martial artist could reach such heights.
And if one did reach that level, what kind of world would they see?
The 20 years he’d spent in seclusion in the south had fully healed his injuries.
Zhu Qiao’er was gone now. Her grave stood behind the house, quiet and unadorned.
Their child, Yun’er, had no talent for cultivation, but he was an honest boy. He had moved out of Little Ink Village and now worked as a bookkeeper at the Ginger Tavern in Silver Creek. It was a cushy job, and one that practically guaranteed he’d marry well.
And with that, Fang Jianlong’s past had finally reached its end.
“What about you?” He looked across expectantly at the burly, bearded man sitting across from him.
Tie Sha let out a sigh. “I want to say no, because this screams trap. Old Fang, have you ever seen gold ingots fall from the sky?”
Fang Jianlong replied, “I heard they had silver falling from the sky in Harmony Province.”
Tie Sha froze for a beat. “Silver doesn’t count. I’m asking about gold.”
Fang Jianlong rolled his eyes. “Are you going or not?”
Tie Sha snapped back, “Of course I’m going. Even if it’s a trap, we have to take a look. Besides, for a rumor to spread this far, someone has to be pushing it. And this...doesn’t feel like something that person would orchestrate.”
All across the land, people were talking.
But not everyone was as decisive as Gu Xuejian, Fang Jianlong, or Tie Sha.
Many were still on the fence, hoping to wait and see.
And yet, as time passed, the determination of others began to influence them.
To enter the Eastern Sea’s Immortal Domain, that was something they’d only ever dreamed of. A goal so distant it didn’t even feel real.
No matter how risky it was, could it really be worse than cowering in the south forever?
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. If they missed it, it would never come again. Whatever happened, they had to see it with their own eyes.
One by one, people began to waver.
“Let’s go.”
“We have to go.”
“Only an idiot would stay behind.”
By the time autumn arrived, many had already begun moving north in secret, leaving early to scout the situation.
Fang Jianlong and Tie Sha left Little Ink Village together, traveling as a pair.
But one person remained behind, a young man in black robes. He sat in the dirt by the farmland, watching an old man with a face full of wrinkles and a head of silver hair as he harvested wheat.
The old man was blind, but his movements were practiced and sure.
And yet this time, he didn’t notice the young man in the robe at all, even though the boy made no effort to conceal himself.
The old man cut a few more stalks, then suddenly stumbled. For a moment, he reached around blindly, groping for balance like someone truly lost in the dark.
From a distance, a middle-aged woman’s voice called out.
“Zhou Na! Zhou Na!” She rushed over, into the field, grabbed the sickle from the old man’s hands. “You’re in no shape for this. Go home and rest. The doctor said this accelerated aging might be some kind of strange illness. But if you rest enough, maybe, just maybe, you’ll get better.”
The silver-haired old man mumbled, “The wheat still needs harvesting.”
The woman sighed. “Oh, come now. Go home, I’ll finish it myself.”
As she spoke, she gently ushered the old man away. Yet, sensing something, she turned her head toward the spot where the boy in the black robes had been sitting.
But when she looked, there was nothing there.
“How strange,” she muttered. “I could’ve sworn someone was just sitting there...”
The old man said nothing, allowing her to help him along.
It was as if he had truly become blind, no longer a cultivator, no longer someone with power. Just a frail old man.
After they had left, the youth in black robes slowly revealed himself, sighing deeply.
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
Dark clouds had gathered over the Central Capital.
The Human Emperor stood by the palace railing, not looking at the clouds above, but sensing the storm brewing beneath the earth.
That storm churned and twisted in unfathomable depths, vast, monstrous, and indescribable.
And yet above it roiled a sea of blood, thick with blazing Yang energy.
Suddenly, he raised a hand to his brow, as though struck by a headache. But the discomfort vanished just as quickly because he heard a voice.
It was a girl’s voice, and that voice made him smile.
“It’s going to rain! What do I do now? It took so long to get the kite flying, waaah! It’s all your fault! Why didn’t any of you tell me it was going to rain?”
His senses reached outward. In the garden just beyond the palace walls, a lavishly dressed girl was running, fuming at the sudden weather, scolding her handmaidens as they trailed behind, apologizing repeatedly.
She clearly had a terrible temper, spoiled to the bone.
But the Human Emperor couldn’t bring himself to scold her. Not even a little.
Neither could the Empress Dowager. Nor anyone else.
They all knew how to raise a child. They’d done it before. But for this girl, no one wanted to be strict.
Above, clouds thickened. A downpour was imminent.
The Emperor raised his head and exhaled.
The storm clouds dispersed. The skies cleared.
And in the garden, the girl’s frustrated complaints turned into laughter and cheers.
The Emperor smiled.
Elsewhere in the palace, Empress Ying and Concubine He watched from a window, accompanied by two young princes, eyes fixed with envy on the joyful girl in the courtyard.
Empress Ying said quietly, “Sister, do you know who the Princess’ father really is?”
Concubine He, none other than He Si, who once followed the Emperor into battle, replied with a smirk. She still bore resentment for the Empress title going to another.
“He was just some wandering blademaster, wasn’t he? Word is he died in the south. His Highness is simply honoring the Xie Clan’s name, nothing more.”
Empress Ying clearly didn’t buy that, but every time she investigated, the answer was always the same.
As the women spoke, they suddenly noticed the two young princes watching the girl outside with longing in their eyes, clearly wanting to go play with her.
Concubine He turned and said, “He’er, since you’re also a noble child of the Central Capital, go ahead and join her.”
The second prince, Ji He, beamed with delight. He bowed quickly and dashed outside.
The Crown Prince looked up at the Empress.
She shot him a cold glare.
With a sigh of quiet frustration, the Crown Prince stayed where he was.
˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙
Far above, the scattered storm clouds drifted off, bringing the cold, pounding rain down somewhere else.
In Gemhill County, the rain had begun to fall.
Li Yuan walked through it in silence.







