Chapter Four: In the Mountains, Time Is Lost; A Sincere Heart Faces the Trial

After the elder of the Abyss vanished, that dazzling radiance faded away as well, and the grand hall returned to its ancient silence. It was so quiet that I could clearly hear both my own breathing and Yi-Yi’s, along with the thunderous pounding of my heart.

I stood dazed for a long while, my mind crammed with countless forcibly imparted techniques, my hand gripping the heavy token of the sect master, my eyes meeting my daughter’s bewildered gaze. All of it felt like some absurd, fantastical dream.

“Father,” Yi-Yi tugged at my sleeve and asked in a small voice, “where did that white-bearded old grandpa go? Will he come back?”

I snapped back to myself and looked down into her clear eyes, forcing a smile more wretched than tears. “He… he’s gone far, far away, to seek the true realm of the immortals. He’s left this place to us.”

“He’s given it to us?” Her eyes sparkled as she looked around the vast hall. “Then we’re the masters here now? Like the emperor in the Palace of Xianyang?”

“Silly child.” I ruffled her hair, her innocent words dispelling some of the confusion in my heart. “We’re not emperors. We are… the Masters of Penglai.”

When I uttered those four words, even I found it ridiculous. A palace guard and a nine-year-old girl, becoming the heads of an immortal sect?

But the matter at hand was to find a way out. I put away the jade box and the token, took Yi-Yi by the hand, and turned to leave the hall. I had to confirm whether we were truly trapped here.

Retracing our steps, we passed through the sandalwood-scented grove and returned to the rainbow-hued beach. The sea was calm as a giant piece of glass, and though there was no sun in the sky, it was always as bright as daylight. I gazed at the seemingly boundless ocean, took a deep breath, and led Yi-Yi forward.

Yet, just as our feet were about to step into the water, an invisible barrier blocked us. The sensation was strange—like walking into a wall of air, soft yet utterly unyielding. I reached out and could clearly feel it: it was transparent, icy cold, and so solid that it chilled my very soul.

“Father, we can’t get through.” Yi-Yi pressed her small hand against the barrier, her face full of curiosity.

Unwilling to accept it, I drew the sword at my waist and, gathering all my strength, thrust forward! The blade that had slain countless foes for me now felt as though it struck tough leather—the tip bent, resonating with a low, muffled hum, and the force of the rebound nearly wrenched it from my grasp.

My heart sank completely.

The elder had not lied to us. This Penglai Immortal Isle was truly sealed away. We were trapped.

The days that followed slipped into a strange cycle. When hungry, we foraged for unknown spirit fruits in the woods. I always tasted them first to ensure they were safe before letting Yi-Yi eat. When thirsty, we drank from the pure, sweet mountain springs. When tired, we nestled together to sleep in some quiet corner of the empty great hall.

In the mountains, time lost its meaning; there were no changing seasons, no sunrise or sunset. Time became a vague notion, and I could only judge its passage by Yi-Yi’s growth. She seemed to have grown taller, her hair longer.

And the inheritance the elder had imprinted in our minds became my only hope—and my greatest torment.

“Focus the breath in the dantian, center the mind at the vital gate, draw the spirit energy of heaven and earth into the body, circulate it through the meridians…” Sitting cross-legged beneath a jade pillar, I muttered the opening formulas of the ‘Body Refinement Chapter’ in my mind, but no matter how I tried to focus or guide, I couldn’t sense the slightest trace of so-called spiritual energy. It was like an illiterate man guarding a library of ten thousand volumes, unable to understand a single word.

“Father, what are you doing? You look like a wooden statue.” Yi-Yi ran over, cradling a white-furred, three-tailed little fox in her arms, her curiosity piqued.

The spirit beasts on this island all seemed especially gentle toward her. She had named this little fox “Snowy,” and it never left her side.

I opened my eyes and sighed helplessly. “Father is trying to learn the arts of the immortals. If I succeed, perhaps I can take you away from here.”

“But… I like it here,” she said, stroking Snowy’s silky fur in earnest. “There are endless fruits to eat, Snowy keeps me company, and most importantly, you’re always with me. We don’t have to hide from soldiers or fear being taken by bad people anymore.”

I was momentarily lost for words. Yes, for her, perhaps this was the true ‘fairy mountain’ of Penglai. No more wandering, no more separation or death. But I could not stop thinking further ahead. We are mortals. Mortals age and die. If I died, leaving her alone on this desolate island, that would be true despair.

I had to succeed!

Yet no matter how I racked my brains, I could not find the way. Instead, it was Yi-Yi whose cultivation seemed to progress unknowingly. She would often talk to a wilting spirit herb, and after a few days, it would flourish anew. She would sing to the deer in the woods, and those gentle creatures would bring the sweetest fruits to her feet.

She seemed to possess a natural affinity with this land and sky, while I, an outsider, was always kept at bay.

Day by day, this sense of helplessness gnawed at my heart. I grew anxious, often waking from nightmares in which I was old and dying, and Yi-Yi wept helplessly beside my corpse on this lonely island.

At last, in a moment when I could not tell if it was dawn or dusk, I made a decision.

I took out the ancient jade box from my bosom and opened it. Within lay two softly glowing divine pills.

Elixirs of Longevity.

The elder had said they could grant a dying person a hundred more years of life. But what if we took them now, while still young? Would they do nothing—or would there be unknown risks?

I did not know. But I could not wait. I could not leave it until we had grown old to test whether it was true. I had to find a path for Yi-Yi.

“Yi-Yi, come here.” I beckoned to her as she chased butterflies with Snowy.

“What is it, Father?” She ran over, a sheen of sweat on her brow, her cheeks rosy and endearing.

I looked at her innocent face and felt a sharp pain in my heart. Pointing to the pills in the jade box, I tried to keep my voice steady. “Yi-Yi, look. These are treasures the old immortal left us. If we take them, we might become stronger and learn the ways of immortals more quickly.”

“Really?” Her eyes shone with excitement. “Then let’s take them now!”

“Not so fast.” I picked up one of the pills, which felt warm and smooth like jade, with a hint of heat. “Father will try first. If—if nothing happens to me, if it feels good, then you can take one too, all right?”

Yi-Yi nodded, half understanding. “Okay. Father is a man—he has to protect me.”

I smiled, but it was a bitter smile. Yes, protecting you is my only purpose in this life. Even if it means risking everything.

I hesitated no longer and put the pill in my mouth.

It melted instantly, transforming into a torrent of gentle warmth that surged through every inch of my body. It was not like swallowing a pill, but rather like plunging into a hot spring—every pore in my body opened in delight. The blockages in my meridians from my failed cultivation attempts seemed to be swept clean in that instant.

Even more astonishing, the once-confusing formulas of the ‘Body Refinement Chapter’ in my mind now became crystal clear! I could even “see” the warm current flowing within me, following the very pathways described in the text.

So this is how it is!

I closed my eyes, inspiration flooding me, and instinctively began to guide the flow.

“Father? What’s wrong?” Yi-Yi, seeing my long silence, nudged me in concern.

I opened my eyes, a flash of brilliance passing through them, and looked at her with the first genuine, hopeful smile I’d shown since coming to this island.

“Yi-Yi,” I said, hugging her tightly, my voice trembling with excitement, “Father… has found the way!”