Através do caminho da espada, alcanço a imortalidade.
Desde os tempos antigos, os imperadores são solitários — acordados, empunham o poder do mundo; embriagados, reclinam-se sobre os joelhos da bela. Quem diria que os imortais do céu não se dignam a desc
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Winter had arrived, and the New Year was drawing near. The streets of North City were bustling with pedestrians, their spirits undampened by the thick snow. Laughter and lively chatter filled the air.
“An’er, today I met a benefactor. A beautiful young lady from a wealthy family kindly gave me a small piece of silver. Let’s buy some food and celebrate properly,” a small, pale-faced beggar cheerfully shared his good fortune.
“I want to eat the roast chicken from Chunfu Pavilion, Brother A-Gui.”
“Anything you say.”
The beggar called An’er giggled and danced as he and Brother A-Gui headed toward their longed-for roast chicken shop.
At that moment, an unexpected event unfolded.
“You insignificant worm! How dare you dirty my clothes? Such audacity must be paid for with your life. Remember to be born into a better family next time,” snarled a noble youth, kicking A-Gui to the ground with malice.
“You two beggars are blind, aren’t you? Don’t you know my master has been accepted as a disciple by an immortal master? Soon, he will cultivate immortal arts and attain eternal life,” boasted the noble’s servant arrogantly.
The onlookers, who had been watching the commotion, dispersed quickly at the mention of immortals, unwilling to offend a disciple of the celestial sect and risk disaster.
Emboldened by the crowd’s indifference, the noble youth drew his sword, aiming to strike A-Gui’s neck.
“Master, have mercy! You are destined to become an immortal. Though I do not fear death, I dread tarnishing your sword.