Cultivating To Immortality

Chapter 757: Grand Dream

I opened my eyes to the flickering candlelight filling the room.

This was the mourning hall; the white banners had not yet been removed. A dozen familiar faces surrounded me, each pair of eyes brimming with tears.

"Father!" My eldest son was the first to rush forward, a man in his thirties weeping like a child.

I wanted to raise my hand to wipe his tears, but found my limbs heavy as if filled with lead. I could only slightly move my fingertips.

Everyone in the room was crying, yet also smiling.

Maids and nannies crowded the outer edges, wiping away tears, while Butler Fu knelt on the ground, tears streaming down his aged face.

My gaze swept over their shoulders, spotting the young Immortal named Song Yan, standing by the screen, quietly observing everything.

"General, you are truly a Divine Being!"

The imperial physician from the court, with three fingers on my wrist, suddenly widened his eyes: "A steady and strong pulse! This... this is clearly the body of a robust young man!"

Another cheer erupted in the room.

I tried to clear my throat, and immediately seven or eight hands offered warm water.

As the warm water flowed down my throat, a long-lost sensation surged through my limbs and body like a spring tide; I felt as if I had truly come back to life.

Finally able to raise my hand, I gently patted Xiao Heng’s shoulder.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Master, you have been in a coma for sixteen days."

My daughter-in-law, Lady Liu, came over, holding my little grandson: "Yuan’er has been clamoring for Grandpa to teach him martial arts."

My five-year-old grandson, Xiao Yuan, timidly reached out his small hand, touched my beard, and then quickly retreated into his mother’s arms.

Everyone in the room burst into laughter.

The young man named Song Yan quietly departed amidst this laughter and feasting.

In the days after I came back to life, our family was harmonious and joyful; all the previous events seemed like a dream.

That was truly good.

But... as time went on, things seemed to return to how they were before... That morning, Xiao Heng rushed into the study.

The collar of his official robe was askew, clearly indicating he had run all the way back.

"The Ministry of Rites said the King wants to visit you," he panted, while straightening my attire. "His entourage has already reached Yongxing Fang."

On the day I came back from the dead, the Crown Prince, Young Master Shiying, and the Imperial Preceptor had already visited, but today the King of Chu himself was coming to the Xiao residence.

I remained silent, letting him do as he pleased, my gaze falling upon the coiled Dragon white jade pendant on his waist, a gift from the Chu royal family.

"Father, at the court assembly today..."

He hesitated, as if wanting to speak but holding back: "The Ministry of War proposed to reduce the northern border garrison, and the King... the King approved it on the spot."

My eyebrows furrowed: "You didn’t object?"

"Son... Son naturally argued on reasonable grounds."

His voice suddenly dropped: "But the Grand Tutor said the national treasury is currently empty..."

He secretly glanced at my expression: "And also said that since the General has been out of office for many years, northern border defense should be coordinated by the Ministry of War."

I snorted coldly, slamming the bamboo slip in my hand heavily onto the table, making him flinch.

Before I could say more, there was already commotion outside the residence.

From afar, the golden canopy of the King’s carriage reflected the morning sun, like a burning ball of fire.

The King of Chu had aged much more than I had imagined.

"My dear subject!"

He held my hand for a long time, his gaze scrutinizing me up and down: "It truly is Heaven’s blessing upon my Great Chu."

I remained kneeling, but I could feel the probing gazes of the ministers behind him.

The matter of my resurrection was now known to everyone in the court and throughout the land.

I still spoke pleasantries, but I could no longer manage a smile on my face.

Looking at the King of Chu before me, and the accompanying Grand Tutor and Minister of War, an inexplicable deep sense of disgust and weariness rose in my heart.

Fortunately, they did not stay long and soon departed.

Xiao Heng was bowing and scraping before the Minister of War.

When did my son, Xiao Ming’s son, become like this?

That night, I heard the sound of an argument coming from the side chamber.

"Big Brother, do you know what they are saying about our Xiao family in court now?"

"They all say... they all say that General Xiao Ming used sorcery to extend his life, preparing to raise an army and rebel, to establish a new dynasty!"

After my resurrection, under the pressure of the King of Chu,

the Xiao family’s situation plummeted.

A month later, the family steward was busy arranging a banquet.

However, it wasn’t until just before the banquet began that Xiao Wen slowly strolled through the gate with his wife and children. This adopted nephew was reeking of alcohol, having just come from some other feast.

"You’ve certainly arrived early," I sneered.

"Uncle, please forgive me."

He gave a perfunctory bow: "These past few days, because of Uncle’s resurrection, your nephew has received no small amount of snubs from colleagues in court."

I remained silent, and my daughter-in-law quickly smoothed things over, asking a maid to lead them to the side hall to change their clothes.

No sooner had they walked away than I heard the sharp voice of Xiao Wen’s wife, Lady Wang: "What airs is he putting on? Does he really think he’s a living Immortal who crawled back from the King of Hell’s palace?"

At the banquet, I noticed my little grandson, Xiao Yuan, always avoiding me.

"What’s wrong, Yuan’er?" I stopped the little fellow who was trying to run away.

In the child’s clear black and white eyes, he looked at me with fear: "Mother said... said..."

"What?"

My expression turned cold: "What did your mother say?"

"Mother said that Grandpa is a monster who borrowed a corpse to return to life..."

I fell silent.

Lady Liu quickly came over and took the child away.

I heard my son, Xiao Heng, leave the table, softly reprimanding his wife: "Didn’t I tell you not to talk nonsense in front of the child?"

"Did I say something wrong?!"

Lady Liu suddenly raised her voice: "Now everyone in Ying City is spreading it! Coming back from the dead, what is it if not a ghost or monster?!"

"He’s already dead, and he shouldn’t have come back after dying!"

These words were like a fire starter thrown into a pot of oil.

I finally lost my temper, overturning the Eight Immortals Table with a single sweep. Bowls and plates shattered instantly, porcelain shards flying.

"What a bunch of filial sons and grandsons!"

My finger pointed at each person’s nose in turn: "This old man should have died in Wu Mountain back then! It would have saved me from having to see your faces now!"

"Xiao Heng! When did you change the jade pendant on your waist?"

"Xiao Wen! Who recommended you for your position in court?"

"And you, you venomous woman, do you truly not know why I died suddenly that day?"

Everyone in the room turned pale.

"Father, calm down!"

Xiao Heng still wanted to argue, but I knocked off his cap tassel with a single slap.

"Calm down?" I burst into wild laughter: "This old man earned prosperity and wealth for the Xiao family, so why have I now become a burden to you all?"

Xiao Wen suddenly rushed forward: "Uncle, you shouldn’t pull rank on us!"

"The King reduced the northern border military funds precisely to prevent you from stirring up trouble with your former subordinates!"

"If you truly cared for the Xiao family, you shouldn’t have let that sorcerer named Tong bring you back to life!"

"You..."

A mouthful of sweet, metallic blood surged up my throat, my vision blurred, and I only remember the mess on the floor and the panicked shouts of Xiao Heng and his wife.

What happened to me?

...When I opened my eyes again, the river wind blew on my face.

The old pine tree on the cliff edge was still there, and the Old Man in a Straw Raincoat’s fishing rod was suspended over the river.

The young man named Song Yan was sitting cross-legged nearby, with two little girls standing behind him.

I was back here again.

I stared blankly at my palms; there were no calluses from holding a sword, no loose skin wrinkles, and no age spots.

Instead, they were in a translucent, faintly glowing, peculiar state.

"How was the experience of going back?"

The Old Man in a Straw Raincoat asked without turning his head, his fishing line trembling slightly in the Void Realm.

I opened my mouth, but found I couldn’t make a sound.

All that anger, sadness, and disappointment choked in my throat, turning into a long sigh.

"Actually, what you just experienced was merely an illusory dream, allowing you to go through the scene after coming back from the dead."

"How was it? If you insist on going back, I will grant your wish now."

I remained silent, looking up at the sky above the cliff by the river. The clouds and mist dispersed, revealing the current scene of the Xiao family.

That was where the Xiao family ancestral graves were located.

Today was the day of "my" burial.

In front of the bluestone tablet, my eldest son Xiao Heng was leading the entire family, old and young, in burning incense and offering sacrifices.

"A Niang (Mother), I miss Grandpa," my grandson Xiao Yuan’s small hand gently touched the inscription on the stone tablet: "I want him to teach me martial arts."

"Then you must be sensible," Lady Liu gently stroked the child’s head, saying softly: "Don’t let Grandpa be disappointed in heaven."

Amidst the smoke of the incense, my son Xiao Heng secretly wiped away tears, Lady Liu repented devoutly, and Xiao Wen kowtowed, tears streaming down his face.

Recalling the scenes in the dream, for a moment I couldn’t distinguish which was real.

I looked at the Xiao family members in front of the tombstone and shook my head.

"No need."

At this moment, Xiao Heng was recounting my glorious achievements on the battlefield to his young son and daughter.

My two adorable little grandsons and granddaughters listened, captivated, their eyes shining.

"This is for the best."

I heard myself say.

"Only a dead Grandpa is the best Grandpa."

The fishing line began to tremble, and the scene in the sky rapidly changed.

The sights within were both familiar and strange.

They were countless versions of me from different dreams.

Some died in battle, some never joined the army and lived to a ripe old age.

Some even ascended to the throne.

Each different choice led to a different end of life.

My body began to turn transparent.

"Then depart."

The Old Man in a Straw Raincoat reeled in his fishing rod and hummed a strange fisherman’s song.

"The sky is a lake, the clouds are a boat. Woah hey~"

In the last moment before my consciousness dissipated, I seemed to hear that sword cry from Wu Mountain Valley again.

So clear, so distant... Xiao Ming’s figure slowly dissipated, and the illusion in the sky suddenly transformed into a dazzling mist of spiritual light, thread by thread, gathering in the palm of the Old Man in a Straw Raincoat.

Before long, in his palm, it condensed into a bead.

"Ah, that young junior from the Sword Sect."

He tossed the small bead in his palm far over.

Song Yan reached out and caught it.

Within this bead, there was a faint, fluctuating pinkish-blue spiritual light.

"You and I saw this old friend off together, which counts as sending him on his way."

The Old Man in a Straw Raincoat slowly stood up, slung the fishing rod behind him, picked up his fishing basket, and walked down the cliff.

"This item, I will give it to you."

"Although it’s not as profound as my Divine Ability, it’s enough to help you establish your Dao Foundation."

"A Disciple of the Sword Sect with such poor cultivation, I have lived for thousands of years and this is the first time I’ve seen one, hehe."

"Thank you... Senior." Although Song Yan didn’t know what this item was for, he quickly put it away and thanked him.

He still wanted to ask about the Sword Sect, but found that the other party had already disappeared into the horizon.

Only that strange fisherman’s song still echoed by the river.

"Walking in the sky, swimming in the clouds, laughter flows from the painting-like homes~"

Song Yan looked down at the bead in his hand.

Was the matter in Ying City really just a grand dream?

He looked again at the qiankun bag obtained from Qin Yicao’s corpse, and pondered for a moment.

His cultivation was low; he couldn’t explain it clearly.

Perhaps, only this Senior himself knew.