Chapter 5: Encounter with an Immortal

The dream ended there.

Chang Yu woke slowly, staring blankly at the ceiling above him. Moments ago, he had dreamed of events that had unfolded two years prior. That day had been his eighteenth birthday—the final day he spent at the orphanage.

Back then, he had been somewhat naive, even a little childish, wholeheartedly believing that the so-called "Heavenly Soldiers and Generals" would come to take him away, thus opening the path to extraordinary cultivation and a glorious destiny.

The aftermath was predictable.

He spent the entire day in restless anticipation, waiting every moment for the arrival of those celestial beings. But to his disappointment, after a whole day of anxious waiting, not a single Heavenly Soldier or General appeared.

When Chang Yu stood alone at the orphanage gate with his small bag, waving farewell to the friends who had come to see him off, the dream of immortality he had cherished in his heart shattered completely.

He realized then that heavenly beings, mystical arts, and earth-shattering powers had nothing to do with him.

"To think I once harbored dreams of becoming an immortal cultivator," Chang Yu thought, recalling his younger self's embarrassing fantasies. The memory made him want to hide under his blanket and roll around in shame.

"What changed my original intentions, turning me into someone obsessed only with making money?"

"Oh, I get it—it was the harshness of reality, the misery of poverty!"

"If I could cultivate immortality, who would bother with making money? Wouldn't eternal youth be the most desirable thing of all?"

"And if I truly mastered the arts of immortality, making money would be a trivial pursuit!"

With this thought, Chang Yu rolled over, picked up his phone, and checked the time.

Only two in the morning.

He closed his eyes again, drifting back to sleep without worry.

As for the dream he'd just had, Chang Yu dismissed it as nothing more than a joke.

If nothing unexpected happened, he'd sleep soundly till dawn, then rise to begin another round of his monotonous, tedious life.

But fate had other plans. That night, Chang Yu had another dream—one so real and peculiar that it couldn't be ignored.

In the dream, he found himself in a verdant mountain valley, where birdsong echoed through the air and lush trees whispered in the breeze. Blue sky and white clouds blended together, forming a painting of unadorned beauty.

Everything here filled him with comfort and peace.

"This place is beautiful! But I don’t remember ever being here. Where could this be?" Chang Yu wondered, glancing around with curiosity.

"This is Fuling Valley. I’m sure it’s your first time here," a voice answered.

An old man in white robes approached from not far away, eyes bright and penetrating as he studied Chang Yu. His hair was as white as a crane's, his features clear and distinct, and at a glance, he truly resembled a recluse immortal.

His long white beard fluttered in the wind—not awkwardly, but in a way that made his presence seem all the more transcendent.

"Fuling Valley? Never heard of it."

Chang Yu searched his mind for the name, but it meant nothing to him.

Given the vast and varied landscapes of the country, it wasn’t unusual that a place he’d never heard of existed.

"Enough idle chatter, boy," the old man said, gazing deeply at him. "I don’t care how you bypassed the myriad wards surrounding this place, nor am I interested in your background or whether you’re being hunted by enemies. Fate has brought us together—let’s get to the point!"

"I see that your bones are extraordinary, your talent exceptional. You’re a fine prospect for immortality cultivation."

"As it happens, my lineage lacks a successor. I have been troubled about where to find a worthy disciple to inherit our legacy."

"Tell me, are you willing to become my pupil and learn the ways of cultivation?"

"So, you’re telling me you’re an immortal, and you want to take me as your disciple and teach me immortal arts?" Chang Yu finally pieced together the situation.

"Precisely!" The old man nodded with a sage’s dignity.

"Could he be some kind of fraud?" Chang Yu circled the old man several times, scrutinizing him from every angle, suspicion written all over his face.

He was no longer the naive youth he once was. The idea of the existence of immortal arts seemed as believable as pigs climbing trees.

"If you’re hoping to swindle money from me, you’ll be disappointed," Chang Yu said, straightening his neck and lifting his chin with a defiant air. "I’m the kind of pauper who thinks about skipping out on the bill at every meal—I have no money for you."

"Nonsense!" The old man’s beard trembled with indignation. "What do you take me for? I am a genuine immortal, not a con artist!"

With a flick of his long sleeve, a wild gust erupted from the fabric. Amid flying sand and pebbles, Chang Yu staggered backward, nearly losing his balance.

"Did you see that? Becoming my disciple is your good fortune!" the old man declared proudly. "There are countless people who wish to study under me, but they simply lack the destiny!"

Seeing this feat, Chang Yu was so excited he trembled all over. His doubt vanished, replaced by joy.

From the moment the old man conjured a gale with a wave of his sleeve, Chang Yu knew he had witnessed something supernatural.

In his nearly twenty years, he had never seen anyone create such a wind with a mere gesture.

Though small and thin, Chang Yu still weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. To be nearly knocked over by that gust meant it must have been a level-eight gale or stronger.

Anyone who could summon such wind with a flick of the hand could only be an immortal!

"So... there were no Heavenly Soldiers or Generals, but now an old immortal has come to me?"

The thought brought tears of excitement to his eyes.

He fell to his knees before the old man, clutching his leg, sobbing and crying out, "Immortal! Immortal! At last you’ve appeared! Do you know how long I’ve waited for you?"

His heartrending cries echoed through the valley, shattering the tranquil atmosphere. Flocks of startled birds took to the sky, fleeing the source of the commotion.

"I’d already given up hope of finding you, resigned to living a miserable life..."

"I never imagined you would appear at this moment—truly, heaven has opened its eyes!"

Chang Yu was torn between grievance and elation, clinging to the old man’s leg for dear life, smearing snot and tears all over his white robes.

He hadn’t found the celestial soldiers he’d waited for, but meeting a white-bearded immortal was no loss.

Hadn’t he always longed for this moment—to meet an immortal face-to-face?

"Boy! Why are you so worked up?" the old man grumbled, frowning and trying to shake him off, but Chang Yu held fast.

"Don’t wipe your snot on me! I’m a fastidious immortal!"

"After finally meeting an immortal, how could I let go and risk you slipping away? Who would compensate me for a living immortal?" Chang Yu pleaded pitifully.

No one could understand the mix of hope and fear in Chang Yu’s heart. He clung to the old man’s leg as if to a lifeline, terrified that if he let go, the old man would vanish, and he’d be left an ordinary youth, living an unremarkable life.

"What’s gotten into you, boy?" the old man finally snapped. "If you don’t let go, don’t blame me for refusing to accept you as a disciple!"

The threat worked instantly—Chang Yu released him with an awkward smile, then knelt before the old man and knocked his forehead against the ground three times, hard enough to raise a bruise.

Fearing the old man might change his mind, Chang Yu borrowed lines from television dramas, saying reverently, "Master, I, Chang Yu, am willing to become your disciple, to follow you always and heed your teachings. From now on, if you tell me to go east, I won’t go west. If you tell me to do something, I’ll obey without question. Even if you ask me to warm your bed... I could accept that."

The old man gazed at him with kindly eyes, a smile blooming like a chrysanthemum. "Since you’re so sincere, I’ll reluctantly accept you as my disciple, even if you are a bit hopeless."

"Master..." Chang Yu looked up at him with adoration, ready to flatter him at a moment’s notice.

"Come, there’s no time to waste. I’ll pass on a technique to you right now, using the method of spiritual infusion!"

The old man placed a gentle hand on Chang Yu’s head. A milky-white radiance blossomed in his palm.

"This technique is called the Fuling Heart Sutra. It is the true inheritance of our Fuling lineage, full of wondrous powers, and perfectly suited to someone of your aptitude."

As the light poured into Chang Yu’s head, he felt a powerful heat flow from his crown into every part of his body.

In the same instant, the knowledge of the Fuling Heart Sutra was etched indelibly into his memory.

Experience and insights relating to the Heart Sutra flowed into his mind as if they were his own, as though he had studied it for years.

Chang Yu needed no explanation to know that these insights came from the old man himself.

Now, the old man’s accumulated wisdom and understanding were being transmitted directly into Chang Yu’s kneeling figure through this miraculous method known as spiritual infusion.