Knowing One's Fate at Fifty

"Where exactly do vengeful spirits come from?"

Zhou Yi retrieved the treasure cauldron and circled the courtyard twice.

There's more than one place in the world where people die. For example, the mass grave outside Shenjing City is piled high with the corpses of displaced people. It's said that the eyes of the wild dogs nearby are blood-red, like those of evil spirits.

People often die in the Heavenly Prison, and there's a designated place for dealing with corpses.

Over the years, it has become a large burial pit.

There are twenty or thirty corpses buried in the courtyard, far fewer than in those two places, yet the Yin spirit here transformed into a vengeful spirit.

"The Yin energy in those places is dense and eerie, and they're rarely visited. The only difference between them and this courtyard... is me?"

Zhou Yi was low-key and cautious, but not foolishly ignorant. The Guiyuan Art was a cultivation method for immortality, gathering the surrounding spiritual energy of heaven and earth into the body, which might cause mysterious changes.

"I'll buy another courtyard for cultivation, and give this one to someone else, which can also hide my identity."

This vengeful spirit had already vanished into ashes, but there was no guarantee it wouldn't coalesce again. It would be bad if it quietly pounced on him and possessed him while Zhou Yi was focused on cultivation.

Better safe than sorry. If he cut back on visits to the Spring Breeze Pavilion for a few years, he'd have enough silver to buy a courtyard!

Just then.

The sound of someone using light-body skills arrived. A middle-aged man in white robes, his clothes fluttering in the wind, descended into the courtyard under the moonlight.

The winter wind was biting. He carried two jars of wine in one hand and fanned himself with a white paper fan in the other.

Zhou Yi raised an eyebrow. "You came quickly enough, you rascal!"

"Jin Yu went to find me, saying an old Daoist had arrived."

Lao Bai said, "After all these years, and with you cultivating that evil art, I thought you'd died somewhere."

"Seclusion was just to change my foundation and replenish some of my lifespan."

Zhou Yi made up a half-true reason. "Chen Ya'er is good. If she believed my words after just one meeting, she shouldn't venture into the martial world, lest she die needlessly out there."

"It's Jin Yu, meaning the beauty of jade! I specifically asked a teacher at the Imperial Academy to name her."

Lao Bai poured two bowls of wine. "Since you left Shenjing, I haven't been able to find anyone to drink with happily!"

Zhou Yi laughed. "The dignified Thief Saint, known for having acquaintances all over the world, able to summon support from all corners of the martial world…"

"It's different now. Since I've left the martial world, I can no longer be too involved with it."

Lao Bai shook his head and sighed. There might have been some nostalgia for his past freedom, but there was more relief and gratitude.

"Then I'll drink with you until we're old!"

Zhou Yi and Lao Bai met in prison. More than twenty years had passed in the blink of an eye, and he had long known that this fellow was one of his own kind.

Lao Bai seemed bold and reckless, having stolen many treasures, but in reality, he was meticulous about trivial matters. His essence was the same as Zhou Yi's: cautious. There were countless masters of light-body skills in the martial world, and many who were famous for their nimble fingers, but only Lao Bai had earned the Thief Saint title.

This was because others were not thorough or careful enough, and eventually stumbled.

The only mistake Lao Bai made was the Prince's Manor robbery, which resulted in him being caught for life.

Lao Bai shook his head and waved his hand to remove the disguise from his face. There were already crow's feet at the corners of his eyes, and his complexion was no longer handsome, but had more of the aura of wind and frost.

"We're old!"

At fifty, one understands the mandate of heaven, and is at an age to be happy and forget worries, and to be indifferent to honor and disgrace. In this era, he was already an old man!

Lao Bai was two years older than Zhou Yi, already fifty-eight, approaching sixty!

Zhou Yi was stunned, watching his few friends grow old. He raised his head and drank the wine in his bowl.

"The young heroes of the martial world grow old!"

"Old Zhou, where did you learn such melancholy poetry? Even at this age, I'm still a heartthrob. Many chivalrous women in the martial world admire me and come to the capital specifically to visit."

Lao Bai had long seen through things. "On the other hand, you won't be able to find a wife even when you're old!"

"Admire? I think they're gawking!"

Zhou Yi said disdainfully, "You have too many tricks up your sleeve. How could the princess tolerate you marrying a Holy Maiden of the Demonic Sect?"

Lao Bai said cheekily, "Hehe! It's not my fault. Rongchang took the initiative to suggest it."

"Keep dreaming!"

Zhou Yi said, "If you're so amazing, why don't I see that Senior Sister of the Sword Sect?"

"Shuwan is shy and doesn't want to come to the capital."

Lao Bai said helplessly, "I can only go to Wuliang Mountain every year and stay for two or three months. After all, she's the leader of a famous sect, and I can't mistreat her by making her a concubine at home."

"…"

Zhou Yi suppressed the desire to smash Lao Bai to death with a cauldron. Every time he talked to him about women, he was crushed.

No matter how fragrant the courtesans of the Spring Breeze Pavilion were, they couldn't compare to the female leader of the Sword Sect, the Holy Maiden of the Demonic Sect, or the daughters of noble families… Perhaps their appearances were comparable, but the sense of conquest brought by their status and position was as different as clouds and mud!

"How have the court affairs changed in recent years? Has Chancellor Zhang died yet?"

Zhou Yi awkwardly changed the subject, secretly comforting himself that he would wait until Lao Bai was too old to move before asking him about the beauties of the world.

"In the third year of Jinglong, Chancellor Zhang died of old age in office, with the posthumous title of Wenzhong. His Majesty personally helped carry the coffin as a disciple!"

Lao Bai said, "As for other things, nothing major has happened in recent years. His Majesty is in the prime of life, and his temperament is mild. All officials say he has the makings of Emperor Zhongzong."

"Mild? You should say weak!"

Zhou Yi, after emerging from seclusion, already knew the outcome of the Northern Frontier peace talks. Not only did they cede land and pay reparations, but Emperor Jinglong was even able to put aside his dignity and personally invite the remains of the enemy prince out of the Imperial Ancestral Temple.

It was because of this that Chancellor Zhang was able to go north and quickly draft the peace agreement!

Lao Bai said, "Weakness isn't bad. His Majesty has been on the throne for ten years and hasn't executed anyone's entire family. Everyone's doing pretty well."

"The Fengyang Kingdom has produced two generations of outstanding figures, Wu Zhong and Wenzhong, reversing the decline in one fell swoop. It seems the Great Qian Dynasty won't collapse anytime soon."

Zhou Yi harbored no resentment towards the Fengyang Kingdom, purely commenting from an outsider's perspective.

Even if the world changes, it's just a change of people to be emperors. As that person said back then, the scholars are rotten to the core and no one can cure them; there will still be corrupt officials and unjust cases.

The two old men, reunited after ten years, took advantage of the wine to share endless stories.

During this time, when the conversation turned to the withered bones in the courtyard, Lao Bai revealed a mischievous look.

"Old Zhou, do you know who this person is?"

"You're mocking me, so it's not some petty thief. Could it be..."

Zhou Yi seemed to realize something. "A member of the Zhou clan?"

"You're too cunning, no fun, no fun!"

Lao Bai said, "Two years after you left, this courtyard of yours became a haunted house. Strange cries were heard from time to time at night, and most of the surrounding neighbors were so frightened that they moved away."

Zhou Yi nodded. "There was indeed a fierce ghost, but I just slapped it to death!"

"..."

Lao Bai was speechless for a moment, and couldn't help but ask, "Old Zhou, just how high is your skill?"

Zhou Yi shrugged. "About three or four stories high, I guess!"

Lao Bai asked again, "Then where am I?"

Zhou Yi pondered the difference between the two and said truthfully, "You're probably three or four stories underground."

"Continue about the haunted house..."

Lao Bai never really pursued the Martial Path when he was young. He practiced Qinggong, one because it was handsome and dashing, and two because it was for escaping and saving his life. At this age, he no longer had the desire to compete and win.

"Five years ago, the Zhou family learned from somewhere that you had died outside, so they came to the capital to take back the house. As a result, they were harmed by the fierce ghost. That person was your cousin, I think his name was Zhou Fang."

"They brought it on themselves."

Zhou Yi had already separated from the clan long ago. Legally speaking, the Zhou clan members were not entitled to inherit the estate.

"I've already had people deal with it."

Lao Bai said, "Don't go into seclusion for too long next time, lest I end up burning paper money for you."

"I'll remember that!"

Zhou Yi nodded slightly.

After that, the topic shifted from the imperial court to the martial world, from the south to the north, until the rooster crowed three times and the eastern sky turned white before they stopped.

"How many times in life can you have such a good time!"

Lao Bai got up to say goodbye, never using the main entrance, stepping on the wall and flying away.

Zhou Yi stood in the courtyard for a long time, sighing softly.

"One day in the mountains is like a thousand years in the world!"

Now he was only at the beginning of the Immortal Path, and seclusion could last for ten years at a time. In the future, when his cultivation was higher, once he came out of seclusion, the mortal world might have already gone through several generations of life and death.

He waved his hand, using his magic power to grind the withered bones into ash, which fell under the jujube tree as fertilizer.