The Oldest Disciple: Farming Intimacy to Become Immortal

“Wei Zheng! Do you fear no divine retribution for your atrocities?”

A woman’s voice, shrill with panic, rang out from the depths of the mansion.

High above, the Golden-Armored Soldier, Wei Zheng, caught his returning Golden Flame Spear with a casual snatch of his hand. He looked down with a sneer.

” The ancient Heavenly Court collapsed eons ago,” he boomed, his majestic voice rolling across the heavens like thunder. “Heaven is dead. Gods are supreme!”

“Heaven is dead, Gods are supreme? What a bold claim.”

A clear, resonant voice suddenly cut through the heavy atmosphere.

A white-robed figure shot up from the mansion below. Like a piercing arrow, he ascended hundreds of feet in a heartbeat, coming to a stop directly opposite the arrogant deity.

It was Li Meng.

With a flick of his sleeve, a talisman spun out. It circled him once before slapping onto his back.

Buzz!

Dazzling golden light erupted from Li Meng’s body. It wasn’t the aggressive glare of a weapon, but a pure, compassionate, and sacred radiance. For a moment, the night sky was dyed gold, and Li Meng hung within it like an enlightened eminent monk, his aura shining with the benevolence of a Buddha.

The five ferocious infant ghosts—the Five Child Heart Devils—shrieked as the light washed over them.

But they did not burn.

The thick, oily black Qi clinging to their small forms evaporated like steam. Their twisted, savage features softened, returning to the peaceful innocence of slumbering babes. Their pitch-black spiritual bodies grew transparent, cleansing away the corruption until they glowed with a soft, warm gold.

In less than three breaths, the monsters were gone. In their place were five laughing infants, chasing each other through the air like cherubs.

“Come.”

Li Meng smiled gently, beckoning to them. His voice was soft, yet it resonated in the soul.

The spirit children giggled, their laughter echoing between heaven and earth as they swarmed around him.

“Little ones,” Li Meng whispered, his gaze kind. “Go. Enter the cycle of reincarnation.”

The infants paused. They looked at each other, then at Li Meng.

One by one, they flew forward and pressed a spectral kiss against his cheek.

“Thank… you!”

Their clumsy, childish voices tugged at Li Meng’s heartstrings, but his smile remained warm.

The children turned and flew upward, their small forms dissolving into five wisps of golden light that drifted into the firmament, finally free.

“Im… Impossible!”

Wei Zheng stared, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Ghost cultivators cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation! How… how did you do that?”

Strictly speaking, the Five Child Heart Devils were no longer simple ghosts; they had been refined into tools of the Nether Path. To send them to reincarnation should have been beyond the power of a mortal cultivator.

Li Meng turned his gaze to the Mountain God. The warmth vanished from his eyes, replaced by a glacial judgment.

“You are a righteous God of Mountains and Rivers, yet you refuse to protect your people. You know the law, yet you break it. Your sin is unforgivable.”

Li Meng raised a hand.

“If Heaven is dead and will not punish you, then this humble Daoist will act for Heaven to eliminate evil!”

He flicked his sleeve.

The golden light of salvation dissipated instantly. In its place, a talisman flew from the Sword Nurturing Gourd at his waist.

It was a Divine Firmament Lightning Attraction Talisman.

And not just any talisman—it was Third-Grade.

Lightning-attribute demon materials were incredibly rare. Li Meng only had three of these precious talismans in his arsenal. To use one was to burn a mountain of wealth.

But Li Meng didn’t blink.

The talisman shot into the clouds and detonated.

BOOM!

A blinding cluster of purple lightning exploded outward. The sky above the mansion transformed instantly. Rolling dark clouds swept out like an angry ocean, covering dozens of li in a suffocating blanket of shadow.

Li Meng formed a hand seal, his voice cold and absolute.

“Today, this humble Daoist shatters your Golden Body!”

Wei Zheng’s face went pale. He looked up at the churning vortex of thunderclouds and felt a primal fear. The pressure radiating from the storm was majestic, terrifying—hardly weaker than a true Heavenly Tribulation.

CRACK!

The heavens tore open.

A thick bolt of purple lightning hammered down, targeting Wei Zheng with unerring precision.

Panic seized the God. He frantically raised his Golden Flame Spear, channeling all his power into the weapon to intercept the strike.

The spear turned into a streak of golden light, meeting the falling judgment.

It was futile.

The moment the lightning touched the spear, the weapon—tempered by decades of incense offerings—disintegrated into ash.

The purple bolt didn’t even slow down. It smashed into Wei Zheng’s chest.

“ARGH!”

A miserable scream tore from his throat.

The Golden-Armored Soldier was swatted from the sky like a fly. His body, wreathed in crackling purple arcs, plummeted earthward.

BANG!

He crashed into the mansion’s courtyard, cratering the stone floor.

Wei Zheng lay prone in the crater, a bloody mess. His “Indestructible Golden Body” was cracked like porcelain, leaking streams of molten gold blood.

High above, Li Meng hovered amidst the wind and thunder, looking down with expressionless eyes. With the lightning flashing behind him, he looked less like a mortal and more like an ancient Thunder God presiding over divine punishment.

Meanwhile, deep within the wreckage of the mansion.

The earth split, and a figure clawed her way to the surface.

It was a woman. Or rather, something that used to be a woman.

She was fused with a tree—her lower body a mass of twisted roots, her skin bark-like and distorted. She was a tragic, grotesque hybrid, neither human nor monster.

“Husband!”

She dragged herself forward, weeping tears of blood.

In front of her, a semi-transparent shadow flickered weakly. It was fading fast, on the verge of dispersing into nothingness.

The shadow reached out a trembling hand, seemingly trying to caress her face, trying to speak final words. But the hand dissolved before it could touch her.

“Husband… I won’t let you disappear!”

The woman’s face twisted in desperate resolve. She raised her hand and plunged it straight into her own chest.

Squelch.

With a wet tearing sound, she ripped something out.

It was a piece of Heart Wood.

It pulsed with a crimson, ghostly glow, dripping with fresh blood.

The woman opened her mouth and inhaled sharply. The fading black mist of her husband’s soul was pulled into the Heart Wood, trapped and preserved within its blood-red fibers.

Done.

Her strength spent, the woman collapsed, her face deathly pale. The tree roots connecting her to the earth withered and turned grey before her eyes.

CRACK!

Another ear-splitting peal of thunder shook the world.

The sky turned white as a second bolt of purple lightning began to descend.

“Immortal Master… Immortal Master, spare me!”

In the courtyard, Wei Zheng screamed in terror. His golden form was crumbling, pieces of his divine armor flaking off like rust.

“I am the Mountain God! I was canonized by the Qi Kingdom! If you destroy my Golden Body, the Luck of the entire Kingdom will suppress you! Do you dare—”

Li Meng stared down at him, his eyes deep pools of apathy.

“Die.”

KA-BOOM!

The purple lightning struck.

“AHHH—”

Wei Zheng’s scream was cut short.

His Golden Body shattered completely, exploding into hundreds of glowing fragments that scattered across the ruins.

At that exact moment, halfway up Qiyun Mountain, inside the Mountain God Temple.

The clay idol sitting upon the altar suddenly cracked down the middle.

Crash.

The statue fell apart, tumbling from the altar to shatter on the dusty floor.

The storm vanished as quickly as it had arrived.

One moment, the world was a chaos of thunder and fire; the next, the clouds dissolved, revealing the tranquil moon hanging in a clear night sky.

Li Meng descended from the heavens, his white robes fluttering gently as he landed beside the fallen woman.

“This humble one is Mu Wanqing,” she whispered, clutching the blood-stained Heart Wood to her chest. “I thank the Benefactor for saving my husband. If the Benefactor wishes to slay demons… then take my life. But please, spare him.”

Li Meng looked down at her.

She was a pitiable sight—a twisted amalgamation of flesh and wood, hovering between the states of ghost and spirit.

Curiosity flickered in his eyes.

“How,” Li Meng asked quietly, “did you end up in this state?”