Chapter 27: Senior Brother Ascends

Ning Sujin, who had maintained a cold and aloof demeanor, furrowed her elegant brows the instant she heard the term “femme fatale.”

“What femme fatale? Isn’t it always men’s lust that brings disaster?”

Old Ma stiffened at her words, immediately bowing low in apology. “Ah… yes, yes, I was talking nonsense, just nonsense.”

“Speak! What exactly happened?”

Ning Sujin had a distinct impression of Xiao Wu. During the five years at the Immortal-Seeking Institute in Chong’an Prefecture, Xiao Wu had been the closest to Li Ji’an—always delivering exotic beast meat to him, and even Ning Yutan, that little troublemaker, had tried to use Xiao Wu to get closer to Li Ji’an at first.

Ning Sujin also knew Xiao Wu’s character: upright, content, and dutiful.

“I…” Old Ma shrank back, afraid to speak carelessly for fear of further trouble. After all, he’d been demoted to gate duty for speaking up in Xiao Wu’s defense. He could only look pleadingly at Li Ji’an.

Li Ji’an nodded. “No harm done. She is the precious daughter of the Duke who Guards the Nation, and the current Princess Wenjin, granted by imperial decree—none is more upright and just!”

Before he’d finished, Ning Sujin was already glaring at him with a look that could devour.

Over the past two years, she had grown used to Li Ji’an’s habit of lavishing her with lofty titles.

He was subtly pressing her to become involved—forcing her hand to help save Uncle Xiao.

Yet, though she knew she was being taken advantage of, she felt no resistance; in fact, she relished it. The way that man spoke was oddly pleasing.

Li Ji’an smiled faintly. Though he could not watch a friend fall into disaster, it was best not to become directly involved if possible. The main issue was that whoever could command the City Guard to act against someone from the Prefect’s Office, and so crudely at that, must wield considerable power—his current status as a reserve immortal candidate might not be enough to handle it properly.

Perhaps the other side already knew of his identity before moving against Xiao Wu.

He had long since lost the urge to prove himself through reckless confrontation; if he could borrow strength, he would not insist on going it alone.

As for hiding Ning Sujin’s identity for a dramatic reveal at the last moment, he had no such intention—such theatrics would only breed further complications.

“Your humble servant greets Your Highness the Princess!” Old Ma’s eyes suddenly lit up with hope.

There was salvation; the boss would be saved. If it were only Li Ji’an, he’d have little confidence, for the opposing power was too great.

“Rise. Speak truthfully,” Ning Sujin said, lifting her chin ever so slightly.

“Yes, yes. Half a month ago, while patrolling with the constable, we caught three vagrants sneaking into the city. Upon investigation, we found they were not evil men. Out of pity, the constable released them.

The very next day, the City Guard stormed the Prefect’s Office, arrested the constable, claiming that rebels had confessed—declaring the constable an inside agent, and the three vagrants who’d been released as the ones who confessed. I stake my life that they are certainly not rebels.

That same day, a man dressed as a steward went to the constable’s home, threatening and trying to bribe his wife. Because I tried to intervene, I was demoted…”

Upon hearing this, Ning Sujin’s face showed a trace of contempt and disgust. “Hmph! Such lecherous fiends, so bold as to seize another man’s wife—utter lawlessness. I will see to this matter myself. To the Prefect’s Office!”

Less than an hour later, Xiao Wu emerged from prison battered and bruised, but reinstated to his post.

The steward who had tried to coerce Xiao Wu’s wife was publicly caned to death by his own master, and a City Guard captain was demoted for corruption.

In a land without rule of law, there was at least one advantage: with power, anything was possible.

After this, neither Li Ji’an nor Ning Sujin wished to linger in Chong’an Prefecture. They set off at a gallop, and two days later arrived at the Purple Cloud Monastery in Shangyi County.

Seven years had passed, yet in Li Ji’an’s heart, the monastery remained unchanged.

Stepping inside, he felt his whole body relax.

Until he saw his senior brother Liu Deshan, frail and dying upon his sickbed.

The man who had always been round since childhood was now gaunt, his eyes sunken, his face creased with age.

“Chang’an… you have come home.” With clouded eyes, Liu Deshan struggled to open them, lifting a trembling hand.

Kneeling at the bedside, Li Ji’an grasped his withered hand, gently channeling his own vital energy to nourish his heart and veins. “Master, Chang’an has returned.”

“Good, good, good…” Liu Deshan gazed at him with all his strength, repeating the word like a mantra.

“I’ll go right away to tell junior brother the good news. What he failed to achieve, you have done—an immortal candidate… If he knew, he would be so comforted.”

As Li Ji’an looked upon his senior brother, now a shadow of his former self, memories of past lives flashed before his eyes—a montage of scenes from Liu Deshan’s childhood, youth, and middle age.

Flowers bloom and wither, clouds gather and disperse… a fleeting lifetime.

That night, Li Ji’an remained by Liu Deshan’s bedside, listening to his reminiscences until dawn.

There were no requests, no burdens left behind—only encouragement, only comfort.

In his final moments, Liu Deshan seemed serene, free from the desperate yearning for life or dread of death that some display at the end.

Li Ji’an could not tell if it was because he had no regrets, or if he simply believed life was meant to be so, or perhaps because he did not know that immortals truly existed and that human life could, in fact, transcend its limits.

Three days later, Master Virtue passed away and ascended.

With that, both of the dearest people from Li Ji’an’s past life were gone.

In that instant, Qingyun seemed to mature, taking up Liu Deshan’s mantle.

Yet, after seven years apart and communicating only by letter, the sense of distance between Qingyun and Li Ji’an was palpable.

There was more reverence than warmth.

Several times, Qingyun looked longingly at Ning Sujin, as though wishing to ask Li Ji’an something, but the words never left his lips.

In the end, it was only when Li Ji’an teasingly provoked him that a trace of their childhood closeness returned, but it could never be the same.

After handling his senior brother’s affairs, Li Ji’an once more departed from the safe haven of his past life.

This time, as he looked back for a long while, he knew he was truly leaving.

On the road back to the imperial palace, Li Ji’an regained his usual calm and ease. Aside from occasionally teasing Ning Sujin to relieve the tedium, he eagerly discussed with her his insights into vital energy activation.

Ever since he had seen an immortal two years before, and laid clear plans for his future, he had begun to study the external arts of vital energy activation during breaks from his internal cultivation.

After all, since immortals were cultivators, there must be distinctions of strength among them. Martial arts of the mortal realm might not be powerless against weaker cultivators.

Over the past two years, he discovered with delight that his accumulated insight from four lifetimes yielded extraordinary results in methods of vital energy activation.

The supreme movement technique “Floating Lotus Step,” which Ning Sujin had mastered in a month, took him only half that time to comprehend thoroughly—not only grasping its core principles and the key to circulating vital energy, but even making three improvements to perfect the technique.

Internal arts depend greatly on one’s innate constitution and meridians, especially in the early stages. External arts, however, are almost entirely independent of physical endowment; they depend on how one mobilizes internal energy, how it is circulated, and how efficiently it is used—all matters of comprehension.

This gave Li Ji’an a solid foundation for the life he intended to build next.