Gateway of Immortality-Chapter 355: Grand Preceptor

On the flying boat, the two conversed happily, nearly forging a sworn brotherhood.

Their cultivation levels were similar, and as they exchanged insights on cultivation, they both gained valuable realizations.

The flying boat sped through the sky, but it would still take a long time to reach the Han Residence.

Qin Sang did not enter meditation but instead kept his gaze fixed outside the flying boat.

White clouds drifted leisurely across the vast blue sky.

The ever-changing landscapes of mountains, rivers, and lakes, along with the countless mortal villages scattered across the land, were a stark contrast to the Ancient Immortal Battlefield. These sceneries rapidly receded from his view.

"Daoist Han," Qin Sang suddenly stood up and, with an apologetic expression, said, "I just remembered something urgent. I'm afraid I can't accompany you to the Han Residence. If there's an opportunity in the future, I will pay a visit."

Han was taken aback and hurriedly tried to persuade him to stay. "Daoist Qin, what matter is so urgent? You saved my life, yet I nearly repaid kindness with enmity. I haven't even properly apologized to you. Besides, there’s still the matter of Zhen Ming..."

Qin Sang slowly shook his head.

"Back in Guling Mountain, it was merely a small gesture on my part. There’s no need to speak of life-saving grace."

"Moreover, it wasn't your fault. Back then, you guided me to Youshan Market, setting me on the path of cultivation—that alone is a rare fortune many would envy."

"I do indeed have urgent matters to attend to. In the future, I will visit the Han Residence and share a drink with you."

"As for Zhen Ming, so many years have passed. The truth, whatever it may be, no longer matters..."

Han fell into deep thought upon hearing this, seemingly understanding something. He looked at Qin Sang meaningfully and said, "I understand. But Zhen Ming harbored ill intent—there must be an explanation for that. Rest assured, Daoist Qin, I will handle it. Regardless of everything, I will never forget your kindness. If you ever encounter trouble, just send a word, and I will do everything in my power to assist you!"

Qin Sang nodded, then leaped off the flying boat. "Daoist Han, until we meet again."

"Until we meet again!"

Han clasped his hands in farewell, and just as Qin Sang was about to disappear into the distance, he suddenly shouted, "Daoist Qin, Great Sui never relocated its capital. The imperial capital remains in its original place!"

...

Nightfall.

The imperial capital of Great Sui—its lights stretched endlessly into the night.

Qin Sang stood atop a mountain north of the capital, gazing down at the grand city below.

He noticed that the capital had expanded to at least twice the size it was when he had last seen it. Even Holy Mountain Zhao outside the city had now been enclosed within its towering walls.

The prosperity of the city far surpassed what it had been in the past.

In just a few decades, this city, once ravaged by war, had transformed into a flourishing city.

Han had said the empress was a woman of great talent—he had not been exaggerating.

Suddenly, a gust of wind stirred. A barely perceptible figure drifted in like a wisp of breeze. This movement was clearly a form of evasion technique—this person was no mere martial artist but an immortal cultivator.

Qin Sang withdrew his gaze and looked down at the newcomer.

"May I ask if you are Senior Qin?"

The figure landed in front of Qin Sang, took one look at him, and immediately bowed deeply in respect.

"And you are?"

Qin Sang examined the man.

He appeared to be in his forties or fifties, with a goatee, giving him a scholarly appearance. His cultivation was not high—only at the eleventh stage of the Qi Refining Realm. However, his attire was exceptionally luxurious, a richly embroidered robe that spoke of great wealth and status.

"Senior, I am a member of the Han Family. The current head of the family is my uncle..."

The scholar introduced himself, then took out a letter and respectfully presented it to Qin Sang with both hands.

"He has instructed me to personally deliver this letter to Senior Qin and to relay the following message."

"Back then, Zhen Ming’s younger brother lacked talent. Wishing to secure him a position in the inner sect two years later, when guards were to be recruited, Zhen Ming feared competition and thus resorted to deception, committing despicable acts."

"The family head has already dealt with the matter according to the family's rules."

"The main culprit has been executed."

"Furthermore, his descendants have been stripped of their cultivation and expelled from the Han Residence, left to fend for themselves."

As the scholar recounted the message, Qin Sang opened the letter and read it.

It was a personal letter from Han, filled with words of gratitude and apology, as well as an invitation for Qin Sang to visit the Han Residence as a guest.

Qin Sang put the letter away and clasped his hands in thanks. "Thank you for delivering this message. Please convey my gratitude to the Han Family head for upholding justice. If I have the time, I will surely visit."

"As you command, Senior!"

The scholar hesitated briefly. Seeing that Qin Sang had no further instructions, he wisely took his leave.

...

Great Sui, the grand preceptor’s residence.

It was already deep into the night, yet the study remained brightly lit. An elderly man with snow-white hair sat hunched over his desk, writing with swift strokes. Stacks of official documents towered before him.

He set down his brush, blew the ink dry, folded the paper, and placed it into an envelope.

Just then, he suddenly frowned and began coughing violently. Covering his mouth with his hand, he suppressed the sound, unwilling to let those outside hear. It took him a long while to regain his breath.

"Ah... time spares no one."

He lightly rubbed his lower back, leaned against his chair, and closed his eyes. In a quiet voice, he called out, "Zhiniang, bring a few new candles and brew a cup of wakefulness tea..."

Creak!

An elderly woman entered, carrying a cup of tea. Her gaze swept across the old man's face, instantly noticing his condition. Heart aching, she sighed. "Coughing again? I told you to ask the emperor for a few pills, but you refused! Forcing yourself like this won’t help. Didn’t you say the emperor is growing weary of you and that you wish to resign? Then why do you still burden yourself with all these matters every day?"

The old man took a sip of tea, his complexion improving slightly. He patted the woman’s hand and sighed. "Resigning... must wait until I have fulfilled the late empress’s final trust. Only then can I answer to her spirit and consider my own future. The late empress and my fellow ministers worked tirelessly to build this foundation—I cannot allow it to crumble just because the ruler changes. The emperor must endure for a few more years. Once my duty is done, we will return to your hometown and live in seclusion, free from worldly concerns. Whether Great Sui thrives or falls will no longer be my affair."

"Back to Guling Mountain? For what?"

The woman massaged his shoulders and muttered, "My childhood memories are filled with hardship. When your army attacked, I was captured and nearly... If not for you saving me, I wouldn’t have lived a peaceful life. Wherever you are, that is home. "Wait, wasn't Grandfather buried in Cuiming Mountain? Why not settle there? The scenery is beautiful..."

As she spoke, she glanced toward the rear of the study.

It was odd. The ancestral plaques of the Wu Family numbered only one. It was not placed in the ancestral hall but instead enshrined within the study.

Even stranger, the inscription on the plaque read "The Mute Wu"—not a typical name.

Beside it lay a scroll painting that had remained untouched for years. The old man would often kneel before it but never burned incense in its honor.

In all their years as husband and wife, he had never told her who this person was.

When their children knelt before the painting as he instructed, they once curiously asked about it. He had only said, "My teacher." When they asked why they only bowed but did not offer incense, he simply replied, "Because my teacher is blessed with great fortune and will surely live forever."

...

This old man was Wu Chuanzong, once a street beggar, now the grand preceptor[1] of Great Sui.

Hearing his wife mention Cuiming Mountain, Wu Chuanzong was suddenly reminded of someone from the past. He fell into a daze, murmuring softly, "Where is my teacher now? Has he... become an immortal?"

1. Grand Preceptor, also referred to as Grand Master, was the seniormost of the Three Ducal Ministers or Excellencies, the top three civil positions of the Zhou dynasty of ancient China. ☜