Chapter 1008: A Cicada Lives but Eight Days, Yet Embraces Life in the Face of Death

The old man chuckled and waved a hand. “Heh, I was just talking nonsense. None of us can ascend anyway. Can’t I complain a little?”

Li Guanqi was stunned. He had never seen Sword Spirit speak to anyone other than his grandfather, let alone a stranger. Her presence vanished without a trace again, leaving him feeling helpless. Li Guanqi had no idea what kind of torment Nine Heavens and Peng Luo were enduring.

He looked up at the old man. Just who is he? The Tribulation Realm might be too low an estimate. Could he be in the legendary Ascension Realm, already capable of ascending to the Immortal World?

The possibility left him reeling.

The old man smiled. “What do you want out of life? To grow stronger? To live forever? To become an immortal?”

For a moment, Li Guanqi could not answer. Had he begun cultivating because he wanted to become an immortal? He didn’t think so. Had he pursued strength from the very beginning? He had never given longevity much thought. Even the passing years and the gradual waning of his vitality had never truly frightened him.

His most recent cultivation session lasted over two years and felt different from the others. Discovering how much had happened in his absence had given him plenty to reflect on. Everyone he knew was still there, so the passage of time had not affected him too deeply.

However, the thought of powerful cultivators secluding themselves for hundreds or thousands of years, only to awaken and find their old companions reduced to bones, seemed terribly lonely.

His gaze drifted as he considered it all, countless thoughts passing through his mind. Then a single word came to him: “Fate!”

The old man seemed to know a great deal. He smiled and nodded. “You’ve noticed?”

Li Guanqi said nothing. Looking back, it seemed that everything had begun when he met Sword Spirit. Life had pushed him forward ever since. So much had happened, and he had met so many people along the way, but he didn’t believe someone was orchestrating it all. The sword coffin’s appearance felt more like a catalyst, compelling him to keep moving.

With the sword coffin and Sword Spirit’s help, his strength had grown at an astonishing pace. But such power naturally came at a price. Sooner or later, he would have to face those in the Immortal World who coveted her, and he had long since accepted that.

“This was my choice,” Li Guanqi said softly.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“There is no reason,” Li Guanqi replied.

“Have you ever thought about what you truly want?”

Li Guanqi thought for a moment, then looked at the elder and answered softly, “The same thing as you. Freedom.”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, he gave a bitter smile and shook his head, murmuring to himself, “Still… as long as we’re alive, we can never truly be free.”

The old man seemed to understand all too well. He murmured, “People spend their whole lives weaving wings in hopes of freedom, yet every word they speak only adds another shackle.”

Li Guanqi asked again, “Senior, have you found freedom?”

The elder contemplated the question for a long while. “Half of it, perhaps.”

“Why?”

“Because the emotions and desires that bind us to the mortal world are not so easily cast aside. I can only follow my heart and go wherever it leads.”

The elder smiled at Li Guanqi and asked one final question. “Do you believe in fate? Shall I read your palm?”

Li Guanqi smiled, resting his hands on his knees. He looked directly into the old man’s eyes. “I’ve never believed a few lines on my palm could represent my fate.”

The old man’s eyes shone with interest. “Why not?”

Li Guanqi pointed to his own eyes and said calmly, “Before I turned eight, I believed wholeheartedly in fate. I prayed faithfully every day, but no one answered. After I began cultivating, the moment I gripped a sword and killed someone, I understood. My fate has never lain in the lines of my palm. It lies in my strength.”

The old man laughed heartily. “Hahahahaha! Precisely! Well said! The heavens do not decide your fate—you do! True freedom lies in your sword!”

Li Guanqi slowly rose to leave. He cupped his fists and bowed with the respect of a junior, then said with a smile, “I’ve enjoyed our conversation today, senior. Thank you for your guidance.”

The old man waved a hand. “I didn’t guide you. You were really just working things out for yourself.”

Li Guanqi smiled and asked one final question. “Then what should I do now?”

The old man answered in an utterly calm voice. “Give time the time it needs. Let the past remain in the past, and let what must begin, begin.”

Li Guanqi quietly repeated those words to himself. With that, he cupped his fists once more and departed.

The old man watched him go with a faint smile. He lay back on the ground and looked at the wine gourd in his hand. “How I envy you, finding your path so young, like the morning sun rising over Fusang[1]!”

With a wave of the old man’s hand, the gourd appeared at Li Guanqi’s waist. A short inscription had been carved into its side. Li Guanqi picked it up and studied the words, lost in thought, then quietly read them aloud. “A cicada lives but eight days, yet embraces life in the face of death[2]!”

The old man was telling him that life was fleeting, so he should follow his heart and pursue what he truly desired. Since death would come for everyone someday, that was all the more reason to live passionately while they could.

Li Guanqi stepped out of the city in a single stride and threw back his head with a hearty laugh. Pulling the stopper from the gourd, he took a long swig of strong wine, then wiped the liquor from his chin with his broad sleeve. He carried himself with a newfound sense of freedom.

Li Guanqi made no effort to sober himself. With his vision blurred by the wine, he lifted the withered branch and began waving it wildly through the air like a sword.

From that day forward, a legend spread throughout the eastern region of the Black Sect Territory. It was said that a drunken Wine Sword Immortal had once performed a sword dance beneath the heavens. Many who witnessed it were said to have attained sudden enlightenment, comprehending exquisite sword techniques that would become renowned for generations to come.

The old man had offered Li Guanqi no insights into cultivation, yet their meeting had taught him something all the same. He could live more freely and stop taking everything quite so seriously.

The old man stayed where he was after Li Guanqi left. As always, he lay drunk beside the street, sleeping soundly. Li Guanqi’s appearance seemed to have been nothing more than chance. Whether it really was, no one knew. Somehow, after their encounter, the old man’s identity no longer seemed so important.

***

Within one of the great clans of the Ethereal Immortal Territory, everything seemed normal. In a hidden chamber, however, two powerful men sat facing each other.

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked, his gaze sharp.

Zhang Qixuan showed no fear. “Hehe, I’ve come to discuss something important.”

The richly dressed man sneered. “Then speak. I’m in no mood for riddles.”

Slowly turning the teacup in his hands, Zhang Qixuan smiled. “I want to work with the Yu clan to find a way to ascend!”

The other man shot to his feet, seized Zhang Qixuan by the throat, and lifted him into the air. His eyes narrowed. “Zhang Qixuan, do you think our ancestor’s death means the Yu clan has fallen? Have you come here just to mock me?”

Zhang Qixuan could barely breathe. Terrifying lightning power surged around the other, whose bristling hair and beard made him look like an enraged lion.

Even so, Zhang Qixuan showed no fear. He sneered. “Yu Changbo, don’t tell me you don’t want to ascend! I’ve shown you the path. Whether you dare take it is up to you! I’ll be taking part myself. There are risks, of course, but if we succeed, the rewards will be beyond anything you can imagine!”

1. This line comes from the Northern Song writer Ouyang Xiu’s poem “Seeing Xu Off to Mianchi.” The rising sun evokes a young person’s vitality and promising future.

2. The cicada’s brief life is a poetic image here: even with death ahead, it lives to the fullest. The phrase urges people to embrace life despite its brevity.