Great Love Immortal Venerable

“Fang Yuan, hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada, and I will give you a quick death!” “Old Demon Fang, give up any thought of resisting. Today, the great sects of the righteous path have joined forces to crush your demonic lair. We have already sealed off every escape route. This time, your head will roll!” “Fang Yuan, you damned demon! You slaughtered millions to refine the Spring Autumn Cicada. Your crimes cry out to heaven. They are beyond forgiveness, too numerous to record!” “Demon! Three hundred years ago, you r***d me, took my virginity, killed my entire family, and exterminated all nine branches of my kin. From that moment on, I have longed to eat your flesh and drink your blood! Today, I will make you wish you were dead!” … Clad in a tattered emerald robe, his hair disheveled and his body drenched in blood, Fang Yuan surveyed his surroundings. The mountain wind whipped his blood-soaked robe, making it snap like a battle flag. Bright blood streamed from hundreds of wounds. In the short time he had stood there, a large pool had already gathered beneath his feet. Enemies surrounded him on every side. There was no way out. The outcome was settled. He would certainly die today. Fang Yuan understood his situation with perfect clarity. Yet even with death approaching, his expression remained calm and unchanged. His gaze was dark and still, as unfathomable as an ancient well or a deep pool, just as it had always been. The champions of the righteous path besieging him were either esteemed leaders of great sects or young heroes renowned far and wide. They held him tightly encircled. Some roared, some sneered, some narrowed their eyes in watchfulness, and some clutched their wounds and stared at him in fear. None attacked. They all feared Fang Yuan's final, desperate counterstrike. The tense standoff lasted six hours. As the sun sank westward, its dying light set the clouds along the mountains ablaze in a brilliant wash of fire. Fang Yuan, who had been as motionless as a statue, slowly turned. The assembled heroes stirred in alarm and all took a great step back. By now, the pale gray rocks beneath Fang Yuan's feet had been stained dark red. His face, pallid from blood loss, took on an unexpected glow in the evening light. Gazing at the green mountains and the setting sun, Fang Yuan chuckled softly. “Sunset over green mountains, autumn moons and spring winds. Truly, hair black as silk at dawn turns snow-white by dusk; right and wrong, success and failure, all vanish with a turn of the head.” As he spoke, scenes from his previous life on Earth suddenly rose before his eyes. He had been a Chinese student on Earth before a chance turn of fate brought him to this world. For three hundred years he had wandered through hardship; for more than two hundred, he had roamed the world unchecked. Over five centuries had passed, yet they seemed to have vanished in the blink of an eye. Memories long buried in his heart now came alive, unfolding vividly before him. “So I failed in the end.” Fang Yuan sighed inwardly. He felt a touch of wistfulness, but no regret. He had foreseen this possible outcome. When he first chose his path, he had prepared himself for it. To walk the demonic path was to forsake good deeds, to kill and burn. Rejected by heaven and earth, with the entire world as your enemy, you still lived as freely and fiercely as you pleased. “If this newly refined Spring Autumn Cicada works, I will be a demon again in my next life!” At the thought, Fang Yuan could not help bursting into laughter. “Old demon, what are you laughing at?” “Everyone, be careful! The demon is about to make his dying counterattack!” “Hand over the Spring Autumn Cicada now!” The heroes pressed toward him. At that very instant, with a thunderous boom, Fang Yuan detonated his own body without hesitation. … An unbroken spring rain silently nourished Qing Mao Mountain. It was deep into the night, and cool breezes drifted through the fine rain. Yet Qing Mao Mountain was not dark. Countless faint lights glimmered from its slopes down to its foot, as though it wore a brilliant sash of light. The lights came from houses raised on tall wooden stilts. There might not have been ten thousand illuminated homes, but there were several thousand. This was Gu Yue Village on Qing Mao Mountain, lending a strong sense of human habitation to the vast, tranquil mountains. At the very center of Gu Yue Village stood a grand and splendid pavilion. An ancestral rite was being held there, and its lamps shone all the more brightly. “May our honored ancestors bless us. May this Awakening Ceremony reveal many young people of outstanding aptitude, bringing fresh blood and hope to our clan!” The Gu Yue clan leader, a middle-aged man with frost at his temples, knelt on the yellow-brown floor in solemn white ceremonial robes. His back was straight, his palms pressed together, and his eyes tightly shut in sincere prayer. Before him stood a tall, black-lacquered altar with three tiers holding the ancestral tablets. Red-copper incense burners flanked the tablets, sending up curling wisps of smoke. More than a dozen others knelt behind him. Dressed in loose white ceremonial robes, they were the clan's elders and leading figures, each wielding authority over different affairs. After praying for a time, the clan leader bowed first. He spread his hands flat, pressed his palms firmly to the floor, and kowtowed. His forehead struck the brown boards with soft thuds. The elders behind him followed silently, their expressions solemn. For a time, the ancestral hall was filled with the muted sound of foreheads touching the floor. When the ceremony ended, they slowly rose and quietly left the solemn hall. Out in the corridor, the elders silently exhaled, and the atmosphere eased. Conversation gradually began. “Time passes so quickly. A whole year gone in the blink of an eye.” “The last Awakening Ceremony still feels like yesterday. I remember it so clearly.” “Tomorrow is the annual Awakening Ceremony. I wonder what new blood our clan will discover this year?” “Ah, I hope someone with A-grade aptitude appears. Our Gu Yue clan hasn't produced a genius like that for three years.” “Indeed. Bai Village and Xiong Village have both produced talented youngsters in recent years. Bai Ning Bing of the Bai clan, especially—his talent is frightening.” Whoever it was that mentioned Bai Ning Bing, the name brought a shadow of concern to the elders' faces. His aptitude was extraordinary. In just two short years, he had become a Rank Three Gu Master. He stood unrivaled among the younger generation; even the older generation felt the pressure of this rising star. Given time, he would certainly become a pillar of Bai Village. At the very least, he would be a powerful figure capable of holding his own. No one doubted it. “Still, there is some promise among the youngsters attending this year's Awakening Ceremony.” “Quite right. A gifted boy has appeared in the Fang branch. He could speak at three months and walk at four. At five, he could compose and recite poetry. Exceptionally clever, brimming with talent. A pity his parents died so young. His maternal uncle and aunt are raising him now.” “Yes, precocious—and ambitious, too. I've heard the poems he composed in recent years: ‘Bring in the Wine,’ ‘Ode to the Plum Blossom,’ and ‘To the Tune of Riverside City.’ A true genius!” The Gu Yue clan leader was the last to leave the ancestral hall. As he slowly closed the door, he heard the elders talking in the corridor. He immediately knew they were discussing the boy named Gu Yue Fang Yuan. As clan leader, he naturally paid attention to exceptional young clansmen. And Gu Yue Fang Yuan was the most brilliant of them all. Experience showed that children blessed with unusual gifts—perfect recall, for instance, or an adult's strength—often possessed excellent aptitude for cultivation. “If the boy proves to have A-grade aptitude, proper training might well make him a match for Bai Ning Bing. Even with B-grade aptitude, he would surely become a capable figure in his own right, a standard-bearer for the Gu Yue clan. But with such precocious intelligence, B-grade seems unlikely. A-grade is far more probable.” At the thought, the corners of the clan leader's mouth lifted into a faint smile. Then he coughed and addressed the elders. “Everyone, it is getting late. For tomorrow's Awakening Ceremony, please be sure to rest well tonight and conserve your strength.” The elders paused slightly at his words. A trace of wariness crept into the glances they exchanged. The clan leader had put it delicately, but they all understood. Every year, the elders fought tooth and nail to bring promising youngsters into their respective branches. They did indeed need to rest and gather their strength for tomorrow's contest. Especially for Gu Yue Fang Yuan, whose chances of A-grade aptitude were so high. Both his parents were dead, and he was one of the Fang branch's last two orphans. If they could bring him into their own branch and cultivate him well, they could secure a century of prosperity for their line! “But let me make this clear beforehand. Compete openly and honorably. Do not resort to schemes that damage the unity of our clan. Every elder here must remember that!” the clan leader warned sternly. “We would never dare.” “We will certainly keep it in mind.” “We shall take our leave. Please do not trouble yourself to see us off, Clan Leader.” Each absorbed in his own thoughts, the elders departed one by one. Before long, the long corridor was quiet and deserted. A slanting breeze carried spring rain through the windows. The clan leader stepped lightly over to one of them. Fresh, moist mountain air immediately filled his lungs, refreshing him to the core. From this third floor of the pavilion, he could take in most of Gu Yue Village at a glance. Though it was late at night, lamps still burned in most homes, a marked departure from the usual scene. Tomorrow's Awakening Ceremony concerned everyone's personal interests. Excitement and tension lay over the clansmen's hearts, and many would naturally find sleep elusive. “This is the hope of our clan's future.” With the scattered lights reflected in his eyes, the clan leader let out a long sigh. At that same moment, another pair of clear eyes watched the lights glimmering in the night, filled with tangled emotions. “Gu Yue Village. This is five hundred years ago?! The Spring Autumn Cicada really worked…” Fang Yuan stood beside a window, his gaze deep and still, letting the wind and rain strike him. The Spring Autumn Cicada could turn back time. Its place as seventh among the Ten Great Mystical Gu was no empty distinction. Put simply, it granted rebirth. “I used the Spring Autumn Cicada to be reborn. I've returned to five hundred years ago!” Fang Yuan held out a hand and stared at his young, tender, slightly pale palm. Then he slowly clenched it, feeling the reality of it with all his strength. Fine rain tapped softly against the window beside his ear. He slowly closed his eyes, opening them again only after a long while. With a deep sigh, he murmured, “Five hundred years of experience… it feels like a dream.” But he knew perfectly well that this was no dream.