System Granted Me Immortality; I Outlived Everyone

Chapter 33: Carriage Conversation, The Xuanwu Kingdom Emperor’s Lifespan Approaches Its End

Within the spacious carriage, Chen Changsheng quietly held an ancient text, reading its pages with meticulous care.

Sitting beside him, Zuo Xinghe observed this and immediately offered his praise. “Sir, you possess boundless knowledge, yet you never allow a scroll to leave your hands.”

“Your dedication truly fills Xinghe with boundless admiration.”

“For this journey to Chang’an, I should have arranged a high-tier spiritual beast to serve as your mount.”

“But considering our special circumstances, traveling with such ostentation might draw unwanted eyes and bring you unnecessary trouble, sir.”

“Once we arrive in Chang’an, Xinghe will formally host a banquet to wash away the dust of your travels.”

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng silently closed his book and set it aside.

“If you have a question, ask it.”

“I ignored your attempts at conversation before because I refused to step into the quagmire of the Xuanwu Kingdom’s royal court.”

“But since I have agreed to assist you, I naturally will not be stingy with my words.”

“You are the eldest prince of the Xuanwu Kingdom. If you cannot even navigate this minor awkwardness, it would be truly laughable.”

Seeing his underlying intentions laid bare, Zuo Xinghe merely smiled, offering no defense.

Traveling to Chang’an by beast would have taken half a day at most.

Yet, doing so would have drastically cut short the time he could spend alone with Chen Changsheng.

Ten years ago, Chen Changsheng had pulled him from the jaws of death within the Monster Beast Mountain Range. They had conversed for a single night, and the insights he gained had benefited his cultivation immensely.

However, after reclaiming his royal identity and returning to Kuhai Town, Chen Changsheng had utterly refused to engage him in any meaningful dialogue.

Now that the opportunity sat directly in front of him, how could Zuo Xinghe let it slip away?

Organizing his thoughts, Zuo Xinghe respectfully bowed his head.

“Sir, there is a question that has plagued my mind for a very long time.”

“The Heavens dictate that a mortal’s energy is finite, and the same natural law applies to cultivators.”

“Yet you, sir, possess profound cultivation while simultaneously being an Expert in alchemy, Formations, medicine, unearthing Dragon Holes, and countless other disciplines.”

“With so many sprawling paths, how could one man possibly walk them all and achieve such mastery?”

Chen Changsheng clicked his tongue, his expression entirely unreadable.

“How old are you?”

“Xinghe has just reached his hundredth year.”

“To possess your current cultivation base at a mere century of age, you can indeed be considered a talent.”

“You are exactly one hundred. That means one hundred years have passed since you left your mother’s womb.”

“We can discount your first twenty years as the ignorance of youth. You absorbed very little of the Dao during that time.”

“But what have you done with the remaining eighty years?”

“A year contains three hundred and sixty-five days. Eighty years equates to over twenty-nine thousand cycles of day and night. That is a heavy expanse of time.”

“For the mortal dust of this world, eighty years is an entire lifetime.”

“But a cultivator is fundamentally different. Our eighty years carry far more weight than theirs.”

“Mortals bleed their hours away to illness, starvation, exhaustion, and the petty struggles of survival.”

“Cultivators do not suffer these fetters. We achieve Inedia, sustaining our flesh by drawing in the Spiritual Qi of the Heavens and the Earth.”

“The plagues that rot mortal bodies cannot touch us. Furthermore, we replace the void of sleep with deep meditation.”

“Yet, after letting twenty-nine thousand days slip through your fingers, what exactly have you gained?”

Zuo Xinghe fell into a heavy silence, pondering the weight of the question before answering.

“In these eighty years, I have obtained my cultivation base, imperial authority, and a Dao companion as beautiful as blooming flowers.”

“A succinct summary. And what else?”

“There are twenty-four hours in a day. Did you pour every single waking moment into those three pursuits?”

“If my guess is correct, a vast portion of your lifespan bled into other, far less critical endeavors.”

“Idle banquets, romantic dalliances, the petty squabbles of imperial pride… These transient things devoured the bulk of your decades.”

“I am no heaven-defying genius, nor did I inherit the legacy of some peerless master.”

“I merely gathered up the shattered fragments of time that the rest of you so carelessly tossed aside. That is all.”

“To temper the flesh, one must first temper the heart. If your mental state is fractured, how can you ever hope to conquer the great Dao?”

Zuo Xinghe let out a long, trembling exhale. The reverence in his eyes burned even brighter.

“‘That is all’… Sir, that single phrase alone is enough to bring the cultivators of this world to their knees in shame.”

“With your supreme wisdom, the Xuanwu Kingdom would gladly anoint you as our State Preceptor. Will you reconsider my offer?”

Chen Changsheng offered a dry, dusty smile and waved a dismissive hand.

“Let it rest. I have no interest in playing politics.”

“Besides, you bled your coffers dry to drag me out of my coffin shop. That alone tells me the situation in Chang’an is spiraling toward disaster.”

“How long until the Emperor breathes his last?”

Zuo Xinghe’s shoulders slumped. “My imperial father is the most tyrannical monarch to ever rule the Xuanwu Kingdom.”

“But no matter the height of his cultivation or the depth of his divine arts, mortal flesh cannot outlast the Five Decays of Heaven and Man.”

“As of today, his remaining lifespan can be counted in mere months. He has less than a year.”

“A short time ago, my father issued a final edict. Whoever successfully locates the ultimate Dragon Hole shall inherit the throne.”

Chen Changsheng’s brows knitted together, his ancient eyes narrowing.

“Emperor Zuo has clung to the mortal coil for two thousand three hundred years. I can only assume the royal family has exhausted every life-extending treasure beneath the Heavens.”

“For him to so desperately seek a tomb now… I suspect he isn’t hunting for a simple Dragon Hole to rest his bones. He is searching for a ritual ground to reverse the cycle of death and claim a second life.”

“A geomantic nexus capable of such defiance against the Heavens is exceedingly rare.”

Seeing Chen Changsheng cut straight through the imperial deception to the morbid truth, Zuo Xinghe offered a bitter, defeated smile.

“If such a tomb were easy to excavate, I would not have crossed the kingdom to drag you from your peace, sir.”

“My royal brothers have all secured the backing of peerless geomancers and tomb raiders. In truth, I lack the absolute certainty to defeat them.”

“Driven to desperation, Xinghe had no choice but to disturb your quiet seclusion.”

“I merely wish to know… what are our odds of success?”

“I would not dare claim absolute perfection. But five or six parts out of ten? That is manageable.”

Zuo Xinghe stared blankly.

The prince’s mind ground to a violent halt, entirely dumbfounded.

He had personally visited countless reclusive tomb hermits across the Xuanwu Kingdom. Nearly all of them had answered with absolute despair, citing impossible odds or, at best, a fraction of a percent of hope.

Yet from Chen Changsheng’s mouth, a five or six in ten guarantee spilled out like a mundane observation.

Had he not known the sheer depths of Chen Changsheng’s character, Zuo Xinghe would have assumed the man was spewing arrogant delusions.

“Sir, do you truly possess that level of certainty?”

“I have certainty in locating the burial ground. However, locating the tomb and surviving the ritual are two entirely different matters.”

“Whether the Emperor successfully defies his end will depend entirely on how much Blood-Qi and sacrifice your Xuanwu Kingdom is willing to burn.”

“And do not say I failed to warn you. Stripping away the shroud of death to live a second life is the dying fantasy of every ancient monster.”

“Yet those who actually carve their way out of the grave are virtually nonexistent. You would do well to advise your imperial father to accept his coffin and lay to rest.”

Hearing the undertaker’s morbidly practical advice, a bitter smile stretched across Zuo Xinghe’s face.

He understood the karmic weight of death perfectly well. But the will of an Emperor staring into the abyss was not something a son could easily overturn.