My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 603 - Crushing - Part 2

Several days later.

Li Yuan, after checking the timing, set off in his carriage and headed east.

Of course, Li Yuan wasn’t about to waste Ping’an’s time by having him come pick him up. Instead, he chose to meet his son halfway at Moon River Beach.

Traveling with him were quite the entourage, Ying Zhuoyao, Meng Xingxian, the Wolfmother, two Tree’ers, and Zhu Ban, who had now become a distinguished instructor of the Myriad Lineages Academy.

This elderly man had originally followed the Lotus Cult during its northern migration to Bloomtown. When the Human Emperor’s army unified the land, Zhu Ban had joined the academy and devoted himself to the art of weaponsmithing.

His cultivation technique came from a divine path that had long lost its lineage, one once belonging to a forgotten deity of the Western Extremes. Because of that, he was stuck at sixth rank and had never advanced further. His lifespan was already more than halfway spent. But now, having reunited with Li Yuan and learned of his daughter’s whereabouts, he too wished to see the Eastern Sea with his own eyes.

When Li Yuan visited the academy, the two had crossed paths, and neither hid from the truth. They acknowledged one another plainly.

So now, naturally, Zhu Ban joined him on the journey.

They rode in separate carriages.

Zhu Ban had quite a few students in the Myriad Lineages Academy. These disciples had always followed him as their core mentor. Now, with such an opportunity before them, they joined their teacher without hesitation.

Along the way, Li Yuan did try to have Sheng’er discreetly ask around in the Deathless Tomb, in the hopes of extracting the rest of Zhu Ban’s cultivation technique. But so far, there had been no word back.

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Imperial palace.

Within the grand audience hall, the 13-year-old Emperor sat trembling at the edge of the nine dragon throne.

His shoulders were slightly hunched, eyes cast down, every movement deferential. He kept sneaking glances at the man beside him, clad in a robe embroidered with pythons, watching his expression with a kind of nervous dependence, as though his fate hung on every breath the man took.

There wasn’t a trace of royal dignity about the young Emperor. All that clung to him was fear, raw and unshakable.

Time really could change everything.

Not in a hundred years. Not even ten.

Just half a year ago, Ying An had run crying to his mother, begging for her to stop. And now?

Now, he sat leisurely sprawled on the nine dragon throne as if it were his own, listening to court reports alongside the Emperor.

Over the years, Ying An had followed his mother in doing charitable work. That alone made him stand apart from the aristocrats of the Central Capital.

He had stepped into the farmlands himself. He understood the hardships of the common people, knew their needs, and knew their pain.

Now he sat on high, calmly issuing orders one by one, every inch the image of a wise and powerful ruler in the making.

And the ministers below? They were starting to get used to this Prince Regent.

The He faction had fallen. And all the remaining powers had rallied behind one figure, the Great Bodhisattva of the Star Manor.

Within the hall, civil and military officials stood in two lines, each gripping their ceremonial tablets.

Many of them looked up at the Prince Regent, thoughts brewing behind blank expressions.

And if those thoughts could be given form, they would spell out just a single phrase, Follow the dragon.

As the court session neared its end and ministers began preparing to leave, Ying An suddenly spoke, “Beyond Sword Mountain Pass, there’s still plenty of fertile land. I intend to reclaim it.”

The room went still. Not a whisper. Not a breath.

Ying An’s gaze swept across the officials, then settled on one man.

It was a man from the Xie Clan.

But the Xie and Ying Clans had long since become one. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

This particular individual held a unique status. He was Xie Feng’s grandson and had natural influence within the Ministry of War.

There was also one peculiar tradition left behind by Empress Dowager Xie. She had once demanded that in every generation of the Xie Clan, one person, specifically the most gifted, had to change their surname to Li.

No one in the Xie Clan ever knew why. Why should their brightest talents abandon the family name to become a Li?

But the Empress Dowager had spoken, and her word carried the weight of law. Like the decrees of a founding ancestor, it was not to be questioned.

At that very moment, Ying An’s gaze landed on the current bearer of that Li surname within the Xie Clan.

He said clearly, “Li Hu.”

The man stepped forward. Though a military officer, he had an air of carefree elegance. In his early twenties, already at fifth rank cultivation, he was by any standard a prodigy.

“Your servant is present,” Li Hu said with crisp military discipline.

Ying An declared, “You will form an envoy. Head west, beyond the borders, to the lands of the Western Extremes. Seek an audience with the Khagan. I intend to reopen relations with the Nine Flames Tribe.”

The court went silent. They were utterly baffled. Sending someone to the Western Extremes? That was practically a death sentence, wasn’t it?

Yet everyone knew the close ties between the Xie and Ying Clans.

And a few among the senior ministers knew what that Li surname truly meant.

A man like Li Hu, someone of this bloodline and position, wasn’t someone the Prince Regent would toss aside lightly. If anything, he should’ve been awarded vast merit, not sent on a mission with no guarantee of return.

So...what was the real plan here?

Li Hu, however, responded with a steady voice, “I accept the command. I will not fail Your Majesty’s grace.”

Ying An nodded, then turned to the young Emperor seated beside him. “Your Majesty, what do you think?”

The Emperor immediately replied, nodding like a puppet, “The Prince Regent’s judgment is more than sufficient. It’s perfect, just perfect.”

He even forced out a couple awkward chuckles in support.

Ying An continued, “Then let General Li form the envoy at once. Waste no time in setting out. As for the royal chefs and dessert artisans, I’ve already arranged for them. They’ll accompany the delegation.”

Royal chefs? Dessert artisans? The court was utterly dumbfounded.

Before the ministers could recover, the Prince Regent raised his hand for silence, and said, “Two more matters. I wish you all to hear them clearly.”

He swept his gaze across the room. A flash of fierce authority glinted in his brow, the kind of force that seized a dynasty by the throat.

“I intend to suspend all taxes for three years across the empire, to give the people time to rest and recover. And I will reorganize the Black-Clad Guards and dispatch them throughout the land. All major injustices and cold cases from the past must be reopened and investigated thoroughly. So that Heaven may be clear, and justice returned to the people. What say you all?”

Only silence followed. Not a soul dared utter a word.

Ying An turned his head toward the Emperor again.

The boy immediately raised both hands and began clapping with all his might. “The Prince Regent speaks wisely, very wisely!”

Ying An laughed loud and unrestrained. His laughter echoed through the golden-roofed dragon hall.

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Beyond the border, wild grass stretched across the land like a sea.

Several dozen people, young and old, men and women, were trekking across a remote wilderness where no villages could be seen for miles.

The region was extremely dangerous. After the frost melted, insects stirred, and demonic beasts roamed freely. But the group showed no fear whatsoever.

All of them bore unmistakably human eyes, clear and intelligent, except for the man leading them.

He was massive, his body radiating an oppressive, searing heat, as if fire flowed beneath his skin. But his eyes were blank. Emotionless. And there was a strange sunken hollow in the center of his chest.

Beside the towering man strode four brawny figures, carrying a pallanquin between them.

Inside the chair, barely visible through the gauzy veil, lay a woman in red, unconscious and unresponsive.

The man had circled the area outside the border for some time now. When his gaze fell on the sealed Sword Mountain Pass in the distance, a cold, murderous glint flashed in his eyes.

But he didn’t act rashly. Instead, he turned his head toward a young boy beside him and asked, “Tang Twelve, I don’t have a brain for this sort of thing. Yours works better. Tell me, can we kill everyone in that pass?”

The boy named Tang Twelve replied calmly, “Tang One, we cannot.”

The man let out a thoughtful “Oh.”

Tang Twelve continued, “We’re here to get medical help for the Miss. For that, we’ll need a legitimate reason to enter the pass. I recall she once held the title of Grand Matron in the Tang Sect. And the Tang Sect moved into the pass over 40 years ago. We need to find a way in legally, make contact with the Tang Sect, and then work behind the scenes, let them retrieve whatever’s needed to heal her.”

“And how do we get in legally?” Tang One asked.

Before Tang Twelve could reply, a young girl with a mischievous grin stepped forward and chirped, “Just fly over! We all know how to fly, what border post is going to stop us?”

This was Tang Eleven.

Tang One blinked as if suddenly enlightened, then nodded seriously. “Then we fly over.”

Tang Eleven giggled. “Tang One, I remember Miss used to call you Tang Qiu. Why insist on being part of our generation now and calling yourself Tang One?”

Tang Da answered plainly, “Because I’m not really Tang Qiu. My body holds Tang Qiu’s wandering spirit, yes. But it also contains the bones of another man, the Miss’s other father. I’m not her father. So I go by Tang One. I’m not smart. I do foolish things. That’s why I need all of you to keep me in check.”

Tang Eleven grinned. “Of course we will. We’re family, aren’t we?”

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Star Manor.

“This...this scroll...” An old man in green robes clutched a painting in both hands, eyes wide in stunned disbelief.

Beside him, Zhen'er said coolly, “This is the Depiction of Light, painted by my father. Its purpose is to help those of the Southern camp break through to higher realms.”

The old man, Song Yehuang, was speechless for a moment. “Just a glance...just one glance...and I felt as though I’d been pulled into another world. Every stroke, every line, it’s as if it wasn’t drawn with ink, but with spirit and conviction. It doesn’t feel like brushwork...but something far beyond it. A force of will. Of belief.”

His expression shifted from awe to contemplation, and after a pause, he murmured, “This tells me something. If a man merely seeks strength, he need only train the body and consume herbs. But if one wishes to reach the realm of gods and immortals, then he needs conviction.”

He continued, “In this, your esteemed father and I seem to share the same view. Born of darkness, guided by inner light. Right intention. True conscience. Knowing and doing as one, that is a path that leads to the heavens.”

“Sir, you’ve wisely withdrawn from politics, but would you be willing to serve as headmaster of our new academy? In the future, the academy won’t just train martial artists. We’ll also nurture those who can serve the country and the people in other ways. However, there’s one condition. All students, no matter their field, must study your teachings in the Ink School,” Zhen'er said.

“You can also compile an introductory booklet on the Ink School of thought.,” Zhen’er suggested. “Something simple, suitable for children to learn to read with. Distribute it across the land.”

She gestured toward the painting. “And this piece could serve as the cornerstone of the Ink School teachings. What do you think?”

Before the old man could respond, Zhen'er simply smiled.

“To gain great power, one must first be guided by the will to do good. Only then does power serve the world, rather than harm it. Otherwise, even if someone becomes powerful, they’re just another version of the He faction, nothing more.

“My father told me that Heaven and Earth will undergo a great upheaval in 20 years. When that time comes, everything could be turned upside down. The old powers we know today might vanish completely. But I believe...even if the power disappears, as long as the heart remains righteous, that’s enough.

“If the heart is clear, if it leans toward goodness, then when new forces emerge in the future, they’ll come naturally, like water flowing into place. This isn’t just about preserving the past; it’s about shaping the future. A legacy for generations. Sir, would you be willing to take up this task?”

The old scholar in green robes drew in a deep breath. His beard trembled with emotion. Holding the Depiction of Light in both hands, he bowed deeply to Zhen'er.

“I would not dare shrink from such a calling.”

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July arrived.

Li Yuan boarded the flying ship.

As for the situation in the Eastern Sea, he already understood it clearly. No need to speak of it further.

By early September, the ship arrived at the skyport, gliding through thick clouds to rest gently against the cliffs of Cangya.

It seemed word of his arrival had spread far and wide. By the time he landed, a sizable crowd had already gathered.

Among them were the Earth and Fire Hall Masters, as well as many spirit town lords.

Li Yuan looked over the crowd. He understood what they were thinking. So, he rose from the deck, floated high into the dense spiritual mist of the sky, and looked down from above.

He glanced at the two floating numbers, both hovering around 900k, and simply said, “Come at me together.”

The crowd looked around at each other.

Then, all at once, the battlefield erupted.

Realms overlapped. Spirit artifacts flew through the air. Energy blazed in dazzling hues. Beasts made of fire tore through the void. Stone dragons surged into the clouds. Around the field, formation flags lit up one after another.

Within the flags, wild winds roared. Clouds turned to blades.

Powers clashed. Phantom realms collided. Spirit artifacts spun and struck with devastating force, converging into a tidal wave of destruction aimed squarely at Li Yuan, like a monstrous beast trying to swallow a tiny ant, like a furious sea trying to drown a fragile boat.

It was the kind of spectacle you'd expect to see at the climax of a war between two major sects, nothing less.

From afar, Ping'an watched nervously.

So did Zhu Ban.

Others, hidden among the cliffs or shrouded in illusion, also watched, each with their own thoughts, their own calculations.

Then, Li Yuan raised his hand. And in his palm bloomed a single red lotus. He plucked one petal...and let it drift.

That petal floated lightly into the chaotic field of terrifying energy.

And then...the chaos stopped.

As if a river had struck a whirlpool, all the raging power began to spiral violently toward the lotus petal.

As it absorbed everything, spirit artifacts burned away, and the remaining forces were erased, consumed completely.

The petal drifted on.

The sky turned still.

Li Yuan descended gently before the skyport. Not a sound. Not a whisper. He turned and called out, “Ping’an. Take me to your Sect Master.”