Chapter Twenty: Run!

The immortal trembled slightly at the words, his fingers gently tracing the stone coffin as if freezing the very air around it; time seemed to slow to a crawl in that moment.

He slowly turned around, his gaze deep and complex, sweeping over Yufan before finally resting on the stone coffin. A faint, barely perceptible tenderness and sorrow flickered in his eyes.

The surrounding wind seemed to cease altogether, leaving only the soft patter of rain to add a touch of desolation to the serene scene.

Yufan looked up, meeting the immortal’s eyes—eyes that seemed capable of piercing the soul—and a tightening gripped his heart. Observing the immortal’s touch on the coffin, Yufan concluded that this must be his beloved. Desperate to survive, he knelt before the coffin and said, “Master’s wife, why did you die so early, leaving the master to live alone?”

Suddenly, Yufan was struck by the immortal’s power, sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string, tracing a humiliating arc through the air before crashing heavily into the muddy earth several meters away, splashing water and dirt.

He struggled to sit up, his chest heaving violently, a bitter smile clinging to the corner of his mouth. Supporting himself with his hands, he looked up at the immortal, whose anger was barely contained.

“Ouch, this isn’t fun at all. Today’s really a day cursed with bad luck,” Yufan said, rubbing his aching back, yet his eyes sparkled with cunning and defiance.

Rainwater slid down the tips of his hair, mingling with the grime on his face, creating a pitiful yet somewhat unruly appearance.

The immortal stood unmoving, radiating an undeniable aura of authority and wrath. His deep eyes seemed to see through all the world’s falsehoods as he coldly regarded Yufan, filling the air with a suffocating tension.

Yufan struggled to steady himself, the mud and blood staining his knees making him look utterly disheveled.

He swayed unsteadily as if a gust of wind could topple him again.

Tears began to gather in his eyes; he blinked hard, and a few clear drops slid down his cheeks, blending indistinguishably with the mud and rain.

He looked up at the immortal, a flicker of slyness mingling with pleading in his gaze, his voice trembling but feigning sincerity: “Senior, I truly regret my mistakes! At home, my elderly mother and centenarian grandmother still await me. If I perish here today, how will they survive...” His voice choked with emotion as he lowered his head, his shoulders trembling, as if genuinely engulfed by sorrow.

Yet, the occasional furtive glance at the immortal betrayed a hint of calculation and testing; beneath the feigned grief lurked a subtle cunning.

Yufan painfully rose, his knees trembling from pain. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make his voice sound even more heartbroken: “Senior, please show mercy. I truly know my fault.

Look at my tears—they are not rain, but proof of my sincere repentance!” He roughly wiped his face with the back of his hand, but the mixture of tears and mud only made his expression appear more ridiculous.

He deliberately lowered his head, letting the tears “naturally” fall, while stealing glances at the immortal from the corners of his eyes. The immortal’s expression seemed to soften slightly, yet his imposing presence remained undiminished.

Seeing this, Yufan’s heart leapt with hope, and he intensified his act, leaning forward as if about to collapse from overwhelming grief: “Senior, my old mother is at death’s door, and my grandmother is over a hundred years old. They wait for me every day, and if I cannot return, what will become of them... sob sob...” He covered half his face with his hand, feigning sobs, but a sly glint flashed through the fingers, revealing that this “tragedy” was far from genuine.

Suddenly, Yufan lifted his head, eyes blazing with resolve and a barely concealed cunning. Clenching his fists tightly, as if making a solemn vow, he let the rain and sweat mingle on his forehead and cheeks, dripping onto the muddy ground with a faint splash. He straightened his back; though still trembling from the earlier blow, his newfound determination made him appear remarkably upright.

“Immortal senior, your request shall be my mission!” His words rang out with firm resolve, echoing through the empty graveyard as if shaking the very air. Yufan’s gaze locked with the immortal’s profound eyes, and in that instant, he seemed to glimpse a trace of surprise and approval within them. Biting his lip, he pondered how to find a sliver of hope within this unknown “request,” while simultaneously displaying his loyalty and determination.

The immortal stepped forward slowly, each step seeming to press on Yufan’s taut nerves. The air thickened with an indescribable pressure. Raising his hand, he lightly touched Yufan’s abdomen. The gesture appeared gentle but concealed an irresistible force. Yufan felt a warm current surge instantly into his dantian, followed by violent coughing as if his internal organs were being stirred. The immortal quickly fed him a pill.

“Cough cough...” Yufan bent over, hands on his knees, gasping violently, disbelief filling his eyes as he looked up at the immortal.

His eyes widened in astonishment, staring at the immortal’s departing figure in disbelief. The faint coughs still echoed, but he no longer cared. Trembling, he touched his chest, feeling a warm current flowing slowly, yet carrying the weight of immense power—both comforting and unsettling.

Staggering to his feet, Yufan’s gaze fixed on the immortal figure disappearing into the shadows beside the stone coffin, his heart a tumult of emotions. He looked down at the mud and blood staining his palms, then back up at the unreachable coffin, an unprecedented sense of crisis welling within him.

“What... what kind of pill is this? Are the senior’s words true or false?” Yufan muttered to himself.

“You must go to Longwu Mountain and bring me the supreme treasure—the Devouring Flame. I cannot leave this tower yet. This pill is harmless, but if you fail my request, you shall perish miserably!” The senior glanced at the young man before him.

Yufan’s face instantly turned pale; his eyes widened as if hearing the most unimaginable command. He staggered back several steps, nearly falling again.

Rain and cold sweat soaked his clothes, clinging to him, magnifying his fear and helplessness.

He looked up at the immortal fading into the darkness, his voice trembling and nearly incoherent: “Long... Longwu Mountain? Devouring Flame? Senior, this... this cannot be a joke!” His eyes brimmed with disbelief and despair, already foreseeing a perilous adventure that would cost him his life many times over.

The senior waved his hand, tearing open a rift in the air. “Go.”

Yufan stared at the rift before him, a portal to an unknown world, his heart a whirl of emotions. From the fissure shone a faint blue light, like the most distant star in the night sky—mysterious and awe-inspiring.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward with heavy yet resolute footsteps, each one seeming to bid farewell to his former self.

As he drew closer, the light from the rift grew ever brighter, lengthening his shadow and starkly contrasting with the surrounding darkness.

Yufan felt a powerful suction emanating from the rift, as if it would engulf him entirely. Closing his eyes, he recalled the gentle smile of his elderly mother at home. Looking once more at the rift, he muttered, “What kind of people have I encountered? Does the world have no place for a mere ant like me?”

With that, Yufan boldly stepped beyond the tower’s threshold.