After the monk left, only I remained with this treasured tree, feeling an emptiness inside because the tree, which had been my companion day and night, no longer belonged to me.

The monk's abilities were astonishingly great. He left behind a formation that only I could safely enter and exit. Although I felt wronged, the constant fear I had previously harbored was gone. Within this sanctuary, I could cultivate with a focused mind.

The books left by the monk were like treasures to me. These ancient texts seemed tailor-made for me. I threw myself into cultivation, not for anything else but the hope of one day defeating the monk and reclaiming what was mine, though I knew it was an impossible task.

From these books, I learned that the tree was called the Ginseng Fruit Tree, a spiritual root from the creation of heaven and earth, containing infinite creation within. This spiritual root blossoms every three thousand years, bears fruit in another three thousand, and the fruit matures in yet another three thousand years. Merely smelling the fruit can extend one's life by three hundred and sixty years, and eating one can grant forty-seven thousand years of life.

Forty-seven thousand years—no wonder the monk wanted these fruits. However, the idea of guarding this Ginseng Fruit Tree my whole life only to hand its fruits over to someone else was unbearable.

After learning of the benefits of the Ginseng Fruit, it took me a thousand years to suppress my resentment. I couldn't allow hatred to obstruct my spiritual path. Faced with everything, I chose to forget.

Indeed, after three thousand years, the Ginseng Fruit Tree blossomed. The blossoming was momentary. As I walked beneath the tree, I saw a beautiful but brief shower of petals falling to the ground, layering upon each other. I hadn't even seen them in full bloom before they began to wither. Perhaps it was for the best, returning to nature in the shortest time, marking the cycle's continuation.

The petals that fell to the ground changed the nature of the soil, turning the previously soft ground as hard as iron. From the books, I learned that this was the Ginseng Fruit Tree's way of growing by "originating from me, nourishing my roots." From this, I realized the principle of "holding the origin and preserving the truth." I didn't know which path of cultivation I belonged to, but I felt like I truly became a Taoist.

In the mountains, time is irrelevant, and the change of seasons is unnoticed. In the blink of an eye, spring comes and goes, autumn arrives, and the colors of Mount Wanshou vary in depth and intensity. The mountain streams and waterfalls flow gently, washing away the years and cleansing the mundane world. The mountains stand tall, and the waters run long, marking another three thousand years.

The Ginseng Fruit Tree bore fruit, and seeing the thirty child-like fruits, my suppressed hatred from five thousand years surged once again. Despite my clear understanding, everything I wished to forget was merely self-deception. These thirty fruits, like my own children, were guarded by me for six thousand years. Why don't they belong to me?

Facing the Ginseng Fruit Tree, I even felt an urge to destroy it. Frighteningly, just as this thought emerged, the monk returned.

The monk appeared as before, tranquil and serene, which I saw as a facade for his indifference.

This time, the monk wasn't alone; he brought a young disciple named Ananda, saying he brought him to keep me company in my solitude. However, I saw through the pretense of service to the reality of surveillance. But with no power to argue, the longer I lived, the less I wished to die.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Ananda stayed with me, silent, but it was clear his abilities far surpassed mine. We lived separately, in the front and back courtyards, without a word exchanged for three thousand years. Although Ananda resembled a Taoist, he often held a string of Buddhist beads, leading me to suspect he was a monk in disguise.

As I continued my cultivation, I pondered why I had lived so long. The monk never told me, but I guessed it must be the Ginseng Fruit Tree's doing.

Year by year, the Ginseng Fruits grew, changing color from green to pink. Watching them mature was torturous, knowing that one day these treasures, akin to my own flesh and blood, would be taken away.

Finally, after another three thousand years, I attained the state of a Taiyi Immortal. According to the books, the only difference between a Taiyi Immortal and a Taiyi Golden Immortal was a single insight into the nature of heaven and earth. But where could I find such insight?

On that day, the Ginseng Fruit Tree radiated a brilliant light, signaling the fruits' maturity.

As expected, the monk returned, he and Ananda collected the thirty fruits into a bag, then the monk said to me, "Guarding this Ginseng Fruit Tree is a great fortune. As long as the tree exists, you will not die. What more could you ask for?"

I was stunned. Eternal life was so easily attained, simply by chance upon a seed, a dream for countless cultivators, yet I felt no joy.

The monk added, "I took the Ginseng Fruits only to confirm the mixed essence of Dao. The mountain's formation will stay with you, impenetrable even to Taiyi Golden Immortals without your permission. I took your fruits, but I leave you the legacy of a land immortal, which is also a form of destiny."

From then on, the monk never returned, and the name of Zhenyuan, the Patriarch of Earth Immortals, spread throughout the land.

Nine thousand years later, my own Ginseng Fruits matured. Eagerly, I ate one and understood the essence of heaven and earth within it. After eighteen thousand years, I finally achieved the body of a Taiyi Golden Immortal, qualified to traverse the world.

Originally, I believed that with my cultivation as a Taiyi Golden Immortal and the title of Ancestor of Earth Immortals, there would be no place in the vastness of heaven and earth I couldn't go. However, reality dealt me a harsh blow, revealing that the world is vast and complex, filled with countless powers and entities that are daunting to comprehend.

In the heavens, there is the Celestial Court; in the west, other worlds; and underground, the Underworld, populated by innumerable gods, Buddhas, and Bodhisattvas. Although they treated me with polite distance, I initially didn't understand why. It gradually became clear that, regardless of my cultivation level, I was fundamentally different from them—I was but a lone immortal.

Among the immortals and Buddhas, few were stronger than I. With my status as a Taiyi Golden Immortal and the fortune of possessing a spiritual root of heaven and earth, the Jade Emperor naturally decreed to confer upon me a title. Yet, how could I lower myself to be just another guardian or palace official?

Disdainful of the Jade Emperor's oversight and the slanderous words of those around him, I preferred the freedom of roaming to serving as some celestial official.

What celestial pill or miraculous medicine could surpass my Ginseng Fruits? With this treasure tree, I have an inexhaustible source of wealth. A single fruit grants forty-seven thousand years of life, ensuring my existence alongside heaven and earth without concern for calamities or the pursuit of other celestial pills or peaches.

However, recent years have been far from peaceful, with constant disturbances by those with nefarious intentions. That brute of an ox was incredibly strong, and my numerous spells were ineffective against him. Then there was the Golden Winged Great Peng, whose wings were as fast as thunder and lightning, eluding even my "Sleeve of the Universe."

These two villains, in collusion, were joined by a crafty monkey, whom I managed to capture with my divine powers, deserving of punishment.

Sun Wukong and the Bull Demon King, trapped within my sleeve, found themselves unable to escape. Wukong, aware of the power of my sleeve, calmly awaited his fate, while the Bull Demon King, unaware, futilely attempted to use his Samadhi Fire, not realizing that "Sleeve of the Universe" was not about physically storing people in a sleeve but a divine power akin to holding Mount Sumeru in a mustard seed. Even moving the Furnace of Laozi here would be in vain.

Upon entering my courtyard, I flicked my sleeve, releasing Wukong and the Bull Demon King onto the ground. They knew capturing them was as easy as flipping a hand for me, so they made no attempt to escape.

I said, "You have repeatedly disturbed my Daoist temple. What punishment do you deserve?"

Wukong retorted with a sneer, "What unreasonable Daoist you are. On my first visit, I thought to find an enlightened being in these sacred mountains to discuss the Dao. Yet before I could speak, you captured me. Where's the repeated disturbance in that?"

I smiled and replied, "It might be your first time, but what about this ox? Surely, it wasn't his first."

The Bull Demon King stiffened his neck and said, "The last time, I came to spar with you. This time, I was coaxed by others and captured upon arrival. Naturally, I have no excuses and will accept whatever punishment you see fit."

I acknowledged his straightforwardness, "Since you admit it, you may leave. I will settle accounts with this monkey."