Cultivating Immortality, Starting from Childhood Sweethearts

By the lakeside in spring, there was a small courtyard.

An elderly gentleman had rolled up his sleeves and was brewing tea. The fragrant aroma wafted through the yard.

Not far away, a small cat lay lazily atop the courtyard wall. It yawned, stretched, and then rested its head on its paws, drifting back to sleep.

Before the old man sat a young man. Having finished his morning court session, he had already changed out of his official robes into casual attire.

"What did those people in court have to say?" the old man asked.

The young man smiled wryly. "What else could they say? They act as if it's costing them their lives."

"And His Majesty?"

The old man picked up the teapot and poured him a cup of tea. The young man quickly received it with both hands.

"The matter of reform will be discussed later," Xiao Mochi said slowly.

"Mm." The old man nodded. "That's only to be expected. After 250 years since its founding, Wu Kingdom's powerful families and officials are so deeply intertwined, it's hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Your reform efforts..."

The old man raised his head, his sharp, hawk-like eyes seeming to pierce through to the young man's soul. "You're too hasty."

Xiao Mochi gently blew on the tea to cool it before taking a sip. "I have no choice but to be hasty," he said.

Placing the teacup down, he looked directly into the old man's eyes.

"Master Zhang, Wu Kingdom's position is dire. The Demon Kingdom, the Northern Barbarians, the Western Magic Sect, the Eastern Qi Kingdom—none of them are easy opponents. Wu Kingdom has been rotting from within for too long. To cure the illness, we must use strong medicine!"

The old man took a sip of tea. "But strong medicine may kill the patient."

Xiao Mochi lowered his head in silence.

The old man sighed and shook his head. "What you're saying isn't the real reason. That old scholar from White Deer Academy—what exactly did he see?"

Xiao Mochi caressed the tea cup in his hands without answering.

The old man didn't press further and continued to pour tea at his own pace.

"The Great Era is coming," Xiao Mochi finally said after a long pause.

The old man's hand, gripping the teapot, froze for a moment before nodding. "I see."

"The last Great Era was 10,000 years ago. The world descended into chaos, and countless lives were lost. Humanity fought back and drove the demon race to the Southern Realm, establishing dominance over these lands.

A thousand years of evolution followed, shaping the current order.

But do you think the demons of the Southern Realm would simply accept their fate? They've never stopped dreaming of reclaiming their former glory, of making humans their slaves once again.

Now, as the Great Era approaches, spiritual energy is growing denser, and geniuses will rise in droves.

No one can remain untouched.

No one can afford not to fight.

And with Wu Kingdom bordering the myriad demon kingdoms of the Southern Realm, we will bear the brunt of the conflict.

And that's not even considering the infighting among humans. Do you think the various human dynasties and cultivation sects will coexist peacefully?

Each of them schemes and vies for power.

For Wu Kingdom to survive, reform is imperative."

The old man shook his head. "But you're taking on too much. Wu Kingdom's survival doesn't mean the court nobles won't survive. If you make it impossible for them to live comfortably, they won't let you live at all."

Xiao Mochi replied resolutely, "I can only strive to give my all, even unto death."

"You..." The old man sighed helplessly. "Too hasty, too direct. Haste leads to error, and rigidity leads to ruin."

"Enough." The old man waved his hand. "I still want to live a few more years. Don't drag this old man into state affairs."

Xiao Mochi remained silent and said no more.

Confucian scholars cultivated "Righteous Energy," and like ordinary cultivators, their path consisted of 15 realms divided into upper, middle, and lower tiers.

If a Confucian scholar chose not to enter the court, their lifespan would rival that of typical Qi cultivators—long and enduring.

If a Confucian scholar enters the court, due to the influence of the nation's destiny, the flow of their life essence matches that of an ordinary person for every day they serve.

For instance, if someone's lifespan is 100 years, then a scholar in the Immortal Realm serving in the court for 30 years would lose 30% of their life essence.

For an ordinary person, 30 years is simply 30 years.

But for an Immortal Realm scholar, whose lifespan might span 10,000 years, those 30 years are equivalent to 3,000.

Lifespan is immensely precious to cultivators. Perhaps a mere 100 extra years could allow them to break through to the next realm, let alone 3,000 years.

This is why many scholars prefer to avoid court politics, choosing instead to immerse themselves in scholarly pursuits.

Yet, even so, many Confucian scholars still choose to step into the court, driven by a sense of duty. Most, however, limit their service to around 20 years before stepping away.

But this old gentleman had served in the court for a full 50 years.

Xiao Mochi knew that if he said too much and drew the old gentleman too deeply into matters, it would affect his chances of enjoying his later years in peace.

"When is Qi Kingdom's delegation arriving?" the old man asked.

"In a month," Xiao Mochi replied. "Specifically, in 32 days."

"And have you decided on your people for the occasion?" the old man asked again.

"I have," Xiao Mochi nodded. "In fact, one of the reasons I came today is to borrow two people from you."

"Oh?" The old man chuckled. "What people do I have here for you to borrow?"

"You do." Xiao Mochi smiled as well. Now that the conversation had shifted away from court matters, the atmosphere became noticeably lighter.

The old man thought for a moment. "Those two youngsters?"

"Yes," Xiao Mochi confirmed.

"But one of them is an illegitimate son," the old man pointed out.

"This Wu Kingdom is like a cage," Xiao Mochi said. "Something needs to shatter it."

The old man closed his eyes, pondering deeply before shaking his head. "This doesn't seem appropriate."

Xiao Mochi smiled faintly. "Master Zhang, if everything were appropriate, the Wu Kingdom wouldn't be in its current state."

---

Qi Kingdom, Yunyi Marquis Manor.

In a quiet study, a nine-year-old girl was engrossed in flipping through books of poetry.

Her face was as fair as jade, and her bright eyes sparkled like stars, filled with curiosity and intelligence.

Her jet-black hair was tied into two playful buns adorned with soft pink ribbons that swayed gently as she moved.

Her attire was simple yet elegant—a light pink robe with intricately embroidered lotus flowers on the hem and a green sash tied around her waist, adding a touch of liveliness to her graceful demeanor.

Her slender hands cradled the books carefully, as if afraid to tarnish the precious words within.

Whenever she came across something particularly delightful, she would let out a soft, clear laugh, her voice crisp and melodious, like a mountain stream tinkling over stones.

"Ci'er."

A soft voice called from nearby as a young woman, no older than her twenties, stepped into the room.

"Mother." Zhu Cici hopped off her chair, her movements graceful and light, like a lotus flower dancing on water.

The dignified and elegant woman knelt slightly to meet her daughter's gaze, smiling warmly.

"Ci'er, a month from now, how about going on a trip with Mother?"