The Oldest Disciple: Farming Intimacy to Become Immortal

Chapter 218: Heading to Masked Moon Peak and Junior Sister Zhang

“Junior Sister, you are truly breathtaking.”

Li Meng smiled as he took in the sight of the radiant Hua Biying. Her soaked inner robe clung like a second skin to her voluptuous, jade-like frame, leaving her snow-white skin tantalizingly visible through the translucent fabric. To any man, the scene was a masterpiece of temptation.

Hua Biying shyly tucked a damp lock of hair behind her ear. Her Senior Brother was far too fond of teasing. If he wanted to do something, he should simply do it; it wasn’t as if she had any intention of refusing him.

That night, the quiet of the cave was broken only by the rhythmic splashing of the water pool, a commotion that lasted long into the early hours.

The next morning, as the first rays of dawn pierced the horizon, the two emerged from the cave. Li Meng turned to face her, and their eyes locked in a silent, lingering gaze. Hua Biying gave him a soft, bittersweet smile, again brushing a stray hair from her forehead.

“Senior Brother… I will wait for your return.”

A faint smile touched Li Meng’s lips. “Good. Wait for me, Junior Sister.”

With that, he soared into the air, rising straight into the firmament. His robes billowed in the wind as he rode the gales toward the horizon.

Below, Hua Biying stood frozen, staring at the receding dot of his silhouette until he vanished entirely into the swirling clouds and mist. She remained there for a long time, her hand pressed against her chest as a trace of confusion clouded her eyes.

What was happening to her?

Once, she had possessed a heart of stone, dedicated solely to the Dao. In the Joyous Union Sect, true affection was a lethal taboo. The Path of Non-Attachment demanded the severance of love, while the Path of Attachment used love merely as a mask—common knowledge for every disciple. In this game of hearts, the first one to fall was the loser, and the price was often a shattered Dao Heart.

Had she been paired with someone like Senior Brother Qian, she wouldn’t be spiraling like this. Between them, there might have been fondness, but it would have been a pragmatic union born of cultivation needs.

But Senior Brother Li was different. She had fallen, and fallen hard. She feared his kindness might be nothing more than a well-crafted pretense, yet a deeper part of her refused to believe he was that cruel.

With a long, heavy sigh, she finally turned away. The swaying curve of her waist as she retreated created the exact kind of “scenery” Li Meng was so fond of.

—

Joyous Union Sect, Masked Moon Peak.

Amidst the jagged spires shrouded in eternal mist, a streak of sword light cut through the air. It moved with such velocity that it reached the heart of Masked Moon Peak in the blink of an eye. The clouds parted automatically to grant him passage.

In a courtyard at the peak’s summit, a woman sat before a desk. Dressed in a pristine white Daoist robe with her hair bound in a crown, she exuded an aura of cold, noble purity. She held a Talisman Treasure in her hand, her eyes shimmering with a natural, divine light.

Her focus was absolute, fixed entirely on the Talisman Paper before her. Her brush hovered, poised but never descending.

A yellow-robed figure drifted down from the sky, landing as softly as a falling leaf. Li Meng approached the desk in silence and sat opposite her. Seeing her in a state of deep, spiritual wandering, he couldn’t help but smile.

Truly an Innate Dao Body. Her resonance with the laws of heaven and earth gave her a natural advantage that ordinary cultivators could only dream of.

He waited, declining to disturb her, and instead looked over the tools of her craft.

“Senior Brother?”

Ten breaths later, Zhang Tianhua emerged from her trance. Realizing Li Meng was sitting right there, her composure wavered for a split second, her eyes widening in startlement.

Li Meng chuckled softly, stroking his chin. “Not bad at all. As expected of an Innate Dao Body, your Talisman Dao has reached a new level of refinement.”

Zhang Tianhua waved a slender hand, summoning two tea sets onto the desk. She began to pour. “It is only because of Senior Brother’s guidance.”

Li Meng took a sip of the fragrant tea as Zhang Tianhua watched him with her bright, intelligent eyes.

“Senior Brother, you depart for the Kongming Hall soon. Fortune and calamity are balanced on a knife’s edge. I will remain here at Masked Moon Peak to pray for you, wishing for your safe return.”

Li Meng laughed, setting down the cup. “Have faith. Your Senior Brother has a stubborn life; I won’t die that easily.”

With a wave of his sleeve, dozens of medium and high-grade Talismans flew out from his Sword Nurturing Gourd, stacking themselves neatly on the desk.

“I drew these in my spare time. Though they are only first and second-grade, if you can comprehend the Dao Rhyme woven into the ink, it should prove beneficial to your own artistic conception.”

A flash of genuine joy lit up Zhang Tianhua’s face. Any Talisman drawn by Li Meng was a collector’s item; the trace of heavenly intent within them was a treasure any Talisman Master would kill for. As she looked through them, she realized there wasn’t a single duplicate. Some were patterns she had never even seen in ancient texts.

She pulled one specific sheet from the pile. “Senior Brother, what is this one? Why is it the only one that appears… ordinary?”

Among thirty profound works, the one in her hand looked like a dud. It seemed like a plain piece of paper, the runes dormant and exerting no pressure.

Li Meng narrowed his eyes. That was the Golden Light Mantra Talisman. It was his only third-grade medium-rank talisman—an experimental piece crafted from the hide of a non-metal attribute Demon Beast.

In reality, it was the most valuable gift in the pile.

“Junior Sister, if you can truly perceive the divine wonder of that specific talisman, your future in the Talisman Dao will one day rival my own.”

Zhang Tianhua’s expression turned solemn. She lowered her head, scrutinizing the “ordinary” paper with newfound intensity. Li Meng didn’t disturb her further, content to sip his tea in the comfortable silence.

An hour later, he bid her farewell.

Leaving Zhang Tianhua, Li Meng made a short trip to visit Junior Sister Xia. Her pavilion was situated right next to Hua Biying’s, separated only by a thin grove of trees.

In the courtyard, a woman in a purple rainbow-feather dress lay slumped over a stone table. She looked utterly bored, letting out one long sigh after another.

“Ugh, should I go find him?” Xia Qian muttered, her face a mask of conflict.

Senior Brother was leaving on a long journey, and who knew when he’d return? The thought of not seeing him for years made her heart thrum with a restless agitation. He was the one who had brought her to the mountain and secured her place at Masked Moon Peak. To her, he was… he was…

“Junior Sister, and what exactly would you need to find me for?”

A familiar voice drifted down from above. Xia Qian froze, then looked up with a face full of delight. A yellow-robed figure streaked over the trees and landed gracefully in her courtyard.

“Se—Senior Brother! You’re here!”

Xia Qian practically sprinted to his side. As she stood before him, her cheeks flushed a soft pink. Her body began to radiate an incredibly dense, seductive fox-charm aura—a natural byproduct of her lineage.

The air in the courtyard seemed to shimmer, dyed in a hazy, romantic shade of pink. Time slowed to a crawl. As Li Meng looked at her, his gaze grew increasingly heated and intense.