The letter left by the Third Disciple was long, with a change in handwriting midway, likely continued by the woman in front of him.

Tao Mian read slowly, putting it down several times, unable to bear finishing it.

Seeing his distress, the woman offered to help.

"Let me read it. If you don't want to listen, just cover your ears."

Tao Mian handed the letter to her. Her voice was clear and melodious, bringing clarity to his mind.

As she had claimed, she was indeed skilled at reading letters.

She read the entire piece from start to finish, her voice flowing like a river.

At first, Tao Mian managed to keep his emotions in check, but when she read the word "regretless," his hand holding the wine trembled slightly.

Before he could react, the girl opposite him broke into tears, her voice wavering, and covered her face.

...

Tao Mian was feeling sorrowful, but her tears somehow eased his grief a bit.

"Didn't you hear it once at Liuxue's place? Why are you... Wipe your nose, it's about to drip into your mouth. Crying like this."

Obediently, the woman wiped her mouth with her sleeve, though there was no snot.

She sniffled and answered Tao Mian.

"I'm sad, sad for so many people. Why don't you cry, Immortal? Leaving me to wail alone is so awkward."

"So you do know what awkwardness is..."

The Immortal still had the heart to joke, showing he had accepted the news of his two disciples' deaths.

He said he was sad too.

"Some things, you can foresee the ending from the start. But not everyone can casually say—see, I told you so."

"It's too bitter, sob sob."

The woman continued to cry, now shedding tears for the Immortal.

"Immortal, you should stop taking disciples. Being forced to say goodbye to them again and again, just thinking about it is heartbreaking."

Tao Mian smiled faintly.

"I don't agree with that. Everyone's fate is destined to end in death. Does that mean we shouldn't live because the ending is set?"

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"But you have a choice," the woman stopped crying and spoke earnestly, her seriousness somewhat endearing, "You're an Immortal Being. As long as you ignore worldly affairs, you can live a carefree life."

It was the first time Tao Mian heard someone present such reasoning to him, and it sounded refreshing.

The woman was right.

The Golden Finger brought disciples to him without saying he had to be responsible for them. If he only needed to train them, he could have taught them cultivation techniques casually and kicked them out of the mountain gate once they learned.

From then on, life and death, poverty and wealth, gratitude and revenge... would all be their own matters.

But Tao Mian insisted on caring.

He didn't know how other Immortals were, whether they were detached and transcendent, floating above the mundane without being tainted.

From the beginning, he had only himself, one person and one mountain, a thousand trees in bloom.

In those thousand years, he fed chickens, patrolled the mountain, tended to flowers and plants, and prayed devoutly for a disciple.

Some might call it living without concern for worldly matters; others might say he was numb.

Later, a drifting wooden basin brought Yi Gou, a chicken thief named Er Ya was caught by him, and San Tu and Si Dui held hands, looking up at the majestic mountain gate.

Tao Mian had cultivated to become an Immortal from a human, without enduring the harsh tribulations, growing and thriving alongside the flora of the mountain, unknowingly entering the path of the Dao.

He had heard stories of how one must first forget emotions to become an Immortal.

But he always had countless ties, impossible to sever.

Perhaps this would cause him pain and sorrow, but Tao Mian thought, if he forgot the taste of pain, he would also lose the ability to love.

He didn't want that.

"I have never regretted meeting my disciples, each and every one of them."

The Immortal raised his hand to caress the drooping flower branches, the flora here thriving thanks to the nourishment of the mountain and water, clustering on the branches, eager for people to recognize their beauty.

"They each walked their own path. Though Peach Blossom Mountain is enchanting, they were all born with missions, and I cannot forcibly keep them.

I know they have obsessions, desires, whether they are lost or wandering.

But they are all my disciples, Tao Mian's disciples.

Life is like a journey against the current, and I am but a fleeting passerby in their lives.

Yet each of them, to me, is a unique scenery.

Fortunately, Heaven granted me immortality, and the Immortal does not forget, people remain long.

As long as I live, they will continue to exist with the mountain."

The Immortal's words left the woman somewhat understanding. But she roughly grasped why Chu Liuxue on the small boat was so attached to this place, even in her final moments, she spoke of this mountain.

She slapped her thigh, making an important decision.

"I've decided! I want to stay here too."

"No."

"…"

Silence spread like water, and they stared at each other.

"Why not! I want to become your disciple! I'm very talented!"

"I'm such a prestigious Immortal, looking for a disciple can't be as casual as picking up a stone by the roadside. I don't take disciples lightly."

"Then what are your standards?"

The Immortal closed his mouth, acting mysteriously, raising his right index finger.

"Depends on fate."

"…"

The woman, with her impatient temperament, stood up and patted the dirt off herself.

"Depends on fate? I think it just depends on your mood! Fine, fine, if you won't take me, I don't care. Missing out on a genius cultivator like me, you'll have nowhere to cry when the time comes."

Tao Mian lazily brushed off the fallen flowers on his clothes.

"The mountain gate is over there, take care."

"Don't underestimate the young and poor! One day you'll come begging me! Hmph."

The woman stormed out of the courtyard, and Tao Mian, having drunk his wine too quickly, felt the burn in his throat.

He grabbed the teapot, intending to pour himself some warm tea to ease it.

At this moment, the long-absent Golden Finger suddenly activated.

Tao Mian's motion of pouring tea halted mid-air, a sense of foreboding rising in his heart.

[Detected a candidate with suitable qualifications for a disciple]

[Disciple's Name: Rong Zheng]

[Background: Former Shadow Guard of the Floating Pavilion]

[Qualification: High-Grade Fire Spiritual Root]

[Background: The Floating Pavilion is one of the major forces in the demon realm, with twelve shadow guards who are highly skilled assassins, mysterious and elusive, only obeying the pavilion master.

Rong Zheng was the leader of the twelve shadow guards, codenamed "Kite." She was chosen by the old pavilion master from a young age, stood out after brutal training and selection, and was sent to the young pavilion master Du Hong's side. Rong Zheng was loyal, risking her life for the young pavilion master. Unfortunately, during an accident, Rong Zheng took a sword for Du Hong, hitting a vital point, leaving her body unable to return to its former agility, and unable to use her powers for long periods.

Seeing Rong Zheng injured, Du Hong had her leave the shadow guards to work at Mist Tower, handling intelligence gathering and similar tasks.

The force behind Mist Tower is the Floating Pavilion, a well-known high-class brothel in the demon realm.

Abandoned, Rong Zheng became disheartened, escaped from the tower, and wandered the world ever since.]

[The above is the introduction of disciple "Rong Zheng," please nurture her carefully]

[Congratulations to the host for unlocking rewards: "Burning Jade Sword Technique" *1, "Netherworld Technique" *1]

[...]

[Kind reminder, due to Rong Zheng's old injuries, if she indulges excessively in cultivation, she can only live up to thirty-five years old]

[If she uses spiritual power sparingly, her lifespan can be slightly extended. However, Rong Zheng has a poison gu implanted in her body, placed years ago in the Floating Pavilion, and it is incurable]

[The maximum lifespan for disciple "Rong Zheng" is fifty-five years]

[The specific method of nurturing is up to the host to decide]