Chapter 1522: Falling into the Mortal Dust
Chapter 1522: Falling into the Mortal Dust
Once consciousness faded, the concept of time dissolved with it.
Eons could have passed, perhaps even longer, but for the one slumbering, it was merely the blink of an eye between sleeping and waking.
Li Fan was jolted awake by a series of glowing glyphs pulsating before his eyes.
The glyphs flickered relentlessly, as if they had been trying to rouse him for an eternity. Though their rhythm was perfectly steady, Li Fan instinctively sensed an undercurrent of urgency in their pulse.
This sense of urgency seeped into him, compelling him to make a decision even though his mind was still a formless void.
Li Fan stared at the glyphs, and after a long moment, their meaning finally coalesced in his mind.
[This simulation has ended]
[You may choose one of the following to retain:
2. Your cultivation realm from this simulation.
3. The simulation memories of one person close to you. This person can inherit these memories.
4. Forgo the above choices to accelerate the recharge progress.]
...
"Simulation..."
"Retain..."
The words were both familiar and alien, stirring something deep within his memory. But just as a flicker of recollection threatened to surface, a piercing pain shot through his skull.
An infinite torrent of images, as if a dam had burst, flooded his mind and instantly overwhelmed him.
His own memories vanished into that vast, chaotic ocean. With a cry of agony, Li Fan succumbed to the darkness once more.
"Don't you worry, a touch of ill wind has just muddled his mind. This blessed water will see him through the worst of it. But for a full recovery, he'll need to keep taking it. Shujuan, you must understand, many in the village are depending on this water to save their lives. We were close in our youth, it's true, but giving you a bowl or two for free is as far as my charity can stretch. If you want any more..."
"...you'll have to show me how much you want it."
"Xiaoyue... Lady Li, rest assured. I'll save Fan'er, even if I have to sell everything we own."
...
As he drifted in and out of consciousness, two women's voices droned on at the edge of his hearing.
Then, he felt a foul-smelling, murky liquid being forced down his throat.
It tasted as if it had been festering in a sewer for a decade. The moment it hit his stomach, a wave of nausea shot up, threatening to split his skull.
"Retch."
Li Fan lurched to his side and began to vomit.
"See, Shujuan? I told you the blessed water works wonders! We need to get a few more bowls into him right away for a full recovery..."
"Fan'er!" a woman cried, rushing to his side. Heedless of the mess he'd made, she leaned over him, her face a mask of joyous relief as she checked on him.
Li Fan's newly awakened mind was a chaotic jumble; he couldn't make sense of anything. All he could latch onto was that shrill, sanctimonious voice promising him more of that murky fluid. The mere thought of its acrid taste sent a sudden, violent rage surging through him.
"Stop this charade!"
The words came out in a hoarse, chilling snarl.
The two women in the small hut froze, startled.
Silence fell over the small hut. Li Fan instinctively raised a hand toward the shamaness, gesturing weakly in the air.
But the simple act of raising his hand left him drained and weak.
His stomach churned, and another wave of sickness overcame him, forcing him to vomit again.
"Shujuan, I see now... your nephew's delirium is worse than I thought. He'll need several more bowls."
"Yes, yes."
"You wouldn't dare!" Li Fan snarled, his fury flaring anew.
But this body of his was utterly spent.
He struggled with all his might, but the two farmwomen easily held him down. Humiliated, he was forced to swallow bowl after bowl of the wretched liquid.
...
A month later.
At the dinner table, Li Fan ate at a slow, deliberate pace. The meal was simple—some greens, tofu, and a bowl of fish soup.
"We may have had to sell off most of the family fields, but at least your health is finally returning."
"I spoke with Scholar Qian from the village. He said that while you were ill, your mind was troubled, leading to all these delusions. He says if you read more from the classics of the sages, a righteous spirit will grow in your heart, and the illusions will slowly fade..."
Li Fan listened to the woman's gentle nagging, nodding occasionally.
All the while, his mind was busy sifting through the torrent of phantom images.
After dinner, Li Fan went out for his customary walk to exercise his recovering body. He paid no mind to the villagers who greeted him, walking on until he reached a quiet, secluded spot.
Only then did Li Fan allow his focus to fall upon the glowing glyphs that pulsed insistently before his eyes.
"Simulation, retain."
"What does this mean?"
Over the past month, every time he stared at the ceaselessly pulsing text, he could feel its pressing urgency. It had kept him awake on more than one quiet night, lying in bed with his mind racing.
He was often tempted to just pick an option at random and be done with it.
But his cautious nature always held him back, preventing him from making a rash decision.
Li Fan had a foreboding feeling.
He suspected that none of the options would lead to a favorable outcome.
A dull ache throbbed in his temples. He decided to put the matter aside for now.
Instead, he turned his focus back to the chaotic mess of memories swirling in his mind.
"Are these phantoms real, or am I truly losing my mind?"
Even after a month, Li Fan was no closer to an answer.
The images flooding his memory were a kaleidoscope of different people, different times, and even different worlds.
They were a bizarre, phantasmagoric collection of wonders and horrors.
Some he experienced through his own eyes, others he watched as a detached observer. At times, he even saw events unfold from a god-like perspective, high above the firmament.
It was impossible to tell what was real and what was not.
"Perhaps... all of this is real."
"They are all things I experienced in the so-called [simulations]."
Li Fan closed his eyes, forcing down the endless tide of phantoms and stray thoughts. The conclusion was inescapable.
"If these are all my memories, then no matter what, I couldn't possibly be as weak as I am today."
"So, something must have gone wrong during the simulation process."
"Cultivation..."
His eyes were drawn, once again, to the second option on the glowing prompt.
Over the past month, he had made discreet inquiries. Combined with the countless visions in his mind, Li Fan was certain of one thing: the word 'cultivation' belonged only to true practitioners of the spiritual arts.
"Whatever I experienced in the simulation, whatever realm I reached, it must be better than this. From that perspective, choosing to inherit my cultivation seems like the logical choice."
"Soaring through the heavens, living forever..."
The thought sent a tremor through him—a jolt of instinctual yearning, mingled with a strange, inexplicable dread.
But after waiting this long, he wasn't about to make a snap decision.
He methodically compared the cultivation option against the others.
"Just one item would likely do nothing to change my current predicament. Besides, in this pathetically weak body, I can barely even hold chopsticks. Even if I got my hands on some immortal treasure, I probably couldn't even use it," Li Fan thought, shaking his head.
"Choose a close person to inherit the memories."
Li Fan pondered for a long time.
"The closest person... if they inherited the memories from the simulation and saw my current predicament, they should step in to help."
As he focused on this option, dozens of different faces and figures flickered through his mind.
Li Fan scanned them one by one.
His gaze lingered on the image of a white-haired elder, and a sense of comfort instinctively washed over him. As for the rest...
"They don't look like a virtuous lot."
"Could it be that in the simulation, I associated with such people?" Li Fan felt a sense of disbelief.
He stared at the old man's image for a long time.
Li Fan then turned to look at the last option: "Accelerate the recharge progress."
From what he had pieced together, Li Fan surmised that this 'recharge' was a prerequisite for initiating a simulation.
"In other words, I can run another simulation."
...
Li Fan slowly opened his eyes, returning to the present.
He had lingered in the quiet spot outside the village for too long. Dusk was falling, and he hurried back.
In the days that followed, he maintained his facade.
As his body healed, he spent his days and nights poring over books.
But in truth, he was patiently waiting for the 'recharge' to complete.
Finally, the day came when a peculiar sensation told him that the simulation was ready once more.
With a silent command, Li Fan plunged back into darkness.
When he awoke, he looked around his surroundings, utterly stunned.
It was still the same familiar room.
It seemed as though nothing had changed.
"Could it be? Was it all just a figment of my imagination?" The thought shook him, and a profound disappointment washed over him.
But he soon noticed subtle differences in the room, things that were not as he remembered.
"This inkstone... I'm sure I'd already used most of it."
"And..."
A thought struck Li Fan, and he quickly flipped through the books and papers on his desk.
"That's it. It seems I've... returned to more than a month ago?"
To test his theory, Li Fan rushed out to find his aunt. Just as he suspected, she looked noticeably younger. Most of the gray in her hair had vanished.
"So this is what a simulation is!"
His initial euphoria quickly gave way to a calm composure. It was as if this body of his was already accustomed to such strange events.
"Returning to the past, with the ability of foresight."
"This world may be vast, but there is nowhere I cannot go."
"But I must be careful, exceedingly careful, of whatever it was in the simulation that injured me so severely."
An indescribable aura began to emanate from the young Li Fan.
He had the face of a callow scholar, yet he radiated an unfathomable authority.
Twenty years later.
"A toast to the Grand Preceptor!"
In his manor, Li Fan surveyed the assembled ministers of the Great Xuan Kingdom and raised his cup with a faint smile.
As their fawning compliments filled the air, his thoughts drifted far away.
"This so-called cultivation... what is it really like?"
In twenty years, he had risen from a humble scholar to become the Grand Preceptor, a man whose power eclipsed the throne itself. Yet he never forgot that this was all just a simulation, and he never lost sight of his true goal: to uncover the truth behind his lost memories.
"`After all these years of sifting through my fragmented knowledge, I've finally begun to understand,`" he lamented inwardly. "`But without a trace of spiritual energy in this land, all my plans, all my foreknowledge, are useless.`"
After a few rounds of drinks, once the guests had departed.
Li Fan returned to his bedroom and quietly looked at himself in the mirror.
He stroked his thick beard, then removed the disguise.
"Compared to twenty years ago, there's no change at all."
"Heh."
"Not even in this body."
Li Fan stretched, feeling the energy in his limbs.
Twenty years had passed, yet he felt no signs of aging. In fact, with each passing year, it seemed this body of his only grew younger, more full of vitality.
And this was before he had even formally set foot on the path of cultivation.
"As I thought, I am no mere mortal."
To conceal the secret of his agelessness, Li Fan took wives and concubines but rarely shared their bed, using the excuse of pressing state affairs. Every few years, the woman who shared his pillow would die suddenly from a mysterious illness.
Vicious rumors had once swirled throughout the court because of it.
But after he personally killed the old emperor and placed a child on the throne, the whispers fell silent.
Li Fan hadn't become Grand Preceptor out of a lust for power, but rather to find a way out of this world.
His body possessed the strange gift of longevity, but in all other respects, it was mortal. Traveling the world alone in search of the path of cultivation would have been a monumental task.
But as Grand Preceptor, he could establish a secret organization dedicated to seeking immortals.
His work would be much easier from now on.
Another ten years later.
The child emperor grew into a man, and he was no longer content to be Li Fan's puppet.
He secretly trained assassins and conspired with courtiers, plotting to kill Li Fan and seize back his power.
The plan went very smoothly. Li Fan, completely unaware, walked alone into the trap set by the emperor.
The young emperor looked at Li Fan, surrounded by dozens of assassins, and couldn't help but laugh triumphantly.
"Oh, Grand Preceptor, Grand Preceptor, back when you flogged me in the name of teaching me my studies, did you ever imagine this day would come?"
Yet even in this dire predicament, Li Fan's expression remained utterly unchanged.
"Today. What of today?" he asked back with a smile.
"Still posturing at death's door," the young emperor sneered. With a wave of his hand, the assassins surged forward, blades drawn.
However, what happened next was far beyond his expectations.
Blades met his flesh only to ring out with the clang of striking steel, unable to leave so much as a scratch.
And the seemingly frail Grand Preceptor... with each punch, one of the elite, hand-picked warriors would simply explode in a shower of gore.
What was meant to be an ambush had turned into a bloody field of slaughter.
When Li Fan, drenched in blood, finally walked over to the young emperor.
The boy was paralyzed with fear.
Li Fan looked at his blood-soaked clothes and frowned slightly. "Without divine abilities or spells, relying only on this mortal body is rather inconvenient."
"However, despite such heavy gore, I don't feel much discomfort."
"It seems that what I experienced in my past simulations..."
"Grand Preceptor, Grand Preceptor, spare me!" the young emperor wailed. Li Fan just snorted coldly and crushed him underfoot.
...
One emperor died, and another took his place.
In all the world, only the Grand Preceptor remained constant, eternal.
Time marched on. The Great Xuan Dynasty rose and fell several times over, and the people of the realm grew accustomed to the frequent changes of emperors.
On this day, the Grand Preceptor celebrated his seventieth birthday.
Officials from every corner of the land traveled thousands of miles to the capital to offer their congratulations.
The great and worthy gathered at the Grand Preceptor's Manor.
"Dao Xuanzi, you've gone too far!"
A furious roar suddenly echoed above Xuanjing.
(End of Chapter)
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