Record of Becoming Immortal, Difficult is the Road

Record of Becoming Immortal...?

Qi WuHuo saw the writing on the yellowed paper. The strokes were sharp and vigorous. Even though they were slightly blurred, he could still discern the youthful spirit and ambition within them. Reading further, he realized it was merely a personal record of cultivation. Not only did it detail the crucial points of each cultivation stage, but it also included the cultivator's personal insights, which were of great benefit to Qi WuHuo.

Besides that, there were also records of his life.

'July 13th, Sunny. Qi Cultivation successful. I've achieved great Yuan Qi at thirteen, I must be a genius!'

'Father, Grandfather, they're no match for me!'

'Holding my sword, looking down upon the mortal world, hah, who can compare to my magnificence?!'

'Hah, from now on, I shall use the time spent cultivating as a record of my path to immortality, to be passed down to future generations. My disciples should be proud of this.'

'Let it be named: Record of Becoming Immortal!'

These lines were written with composure and flair, full of youthful spirit, making Qi WuHuo unable to help but smile.

He then thought of Tantai Xuan's actions and frowned slightly.

Could this scroll be a cultivation record he had taken from a young cultivator he had killed?

Was it from the original owner of the [Ming Zhen Dao Alliance] waist token?

On the second page, several simple spells were recorded, still in the young man's handwriting: 'Before a cultivator's Yuan Qi has merged with Primordial Essence, the Yuan Qi cannot leave the body, thus making it impossible to cast spells with incantations. However, cultivators at this stage can still perform abilities similar to supernatural abilities by preparing an altar.'

'Therefore, they can also be called [Daoists], to prove they are no longer ordinary people.'

He added again, 'The old man beat me yesterday. When he gets old, I'll feed him the nastiest medicine, hah, no sugar allowed!'

The words were crossed out, as if a elder had forced him to do it. The white paper was left with the faint outline of the young man's face.

Then he added—

'If I get beaten, I can have a piece of candy.'

Qi WuHuo couldn't help but smile.

He glanced at the page, which recorded ritualistic supernatural abilities: [Blood Stopping Curse], [Evil Subduing Method], [Concealment Method].

It then detailed how to circulate Yuan Qi, how to perform Stepping on the Big Dipper, and how to use the realm of refining Primordial Essence to cast these spells.

Qi WuHuo gained much insight after reading it.

The subsequent parts described the young man being forced by his elders to do chores.

He eventually got so angry he stomped his feet.

'Grinding tofu, grinding tofu, grinding your damn [crossed out] tofu!'

'I'm a Swordsman, a Swordsman! I'm not a tofu grinder!'

'Damn old man, saying one cannot achieve transcendence without first entering the world?! What a joke, what a joke!'

'What kind of entering the world involves grinding tofu every day!'

'The smell of soybeans is so strong, sob...'

'My elegant white-robed immortal swordsman image, my prestige! Am I destined to wear these clothes, carry my sword, and grind tofu?'

'No, no, I'm a genius! I must create a supernatural ability for grinding tofu!'

'I've decided!'

'I am a genius!'

Qi WuHuo could almost see a peer of his, sword on his back, squatting there gritting his teeth, then getting up to grind tofu. His newly bought white clothes were stained with the smell of soybeans, making him so angry he wanted to cry, and finally, in his rage, he decided to create a spell.

Qi WuHuo then flipped to the next page and was stunned. He saw written there, stroke by stroke—

[Tofu Pushing Curse]

The name was unpretentious, and the incantation was so casual and natural that it made him laugh. It was clearly a playful spell created by the young man deliberately.

The incantation read: One, two, three, four, five generals, five gods of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. Disciple, chant this in your heart.

Boil beans, burn beanstalks, beans weep in the pot. We are born of the same root, why must we harm each other? If it's not clear, it's not clear. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work.

Turn the pulp into a basin of water. A thousand spirits, ten thousand spirits, make it work right away!

'It actually exists?'

Not only that, but there was also a [Pig Slaughtering Curse]. The reason given was that it was too embarrassing for a dignified Sword Immortal to force a pig to be slaughtered.

Being head-butted by a wild boar in the stomach and rolling on the ground in pain was too humiliating.

So he created a spell!

Of course, the one who got hit in the stomach by the wild boar wasn't this Sword Immortal!

There was also a [Wine and Meat Cooking Curse]—the reason was that his own cooking was so bad it made him vomit.

There was a [Prank Reversal Curse]—specifically for pranking the childhood sweetheart during the wedding night.

And a [Bone Dissolving Needle Swallowing Method]—a northern cultivator, eating fish for the first time, got a bone stuck in his throat. Drinking vinegar made him uncomfortable, so he created a spell!

Flipping further, Qi WuHuo seemed to see a young man laughing and cursing, defiant and unruly, full of youthful spirit. He cultivated, lived, practiced his sword. At thirteen, he achieved great Qi Cultivation. At seventeen, he cultivated Sword Intent. At twenty-one, he attained Primordial Prenatal Qi, considering himself the best under heaven. His inheritances, methods, and supernatural abilities were all meticulously recorded.

Qi WuHuo read on slowly, feeling a subtle connection. He memorized the methods of all these supernatural abilities.

The Sword Style Chapter, Miscellaneous Chapter, Ghost Dispelling and Evil Breaking Chapter, Medical Chapter, Fortune Telling Chapter, and Talisman Chapter, all exist.

I just learned a small trick to regulate another person's body using my own Primordial Qi to achieve the effect of [Support the Righteous and Expel Evil]. As I turned another page, I was slightly stunned.

'Eighteen years. Today, Zong Wei is getting married.'

'The one she loves is me. I know.'

'But my heart only holds the Dao, and nothing else. I saw her marry another on a mountain peak in the rain, then turned and left.'

'Wandering the world, seeking masters and the Dao, cultivating my nature and my fate.'

'July, Year Thirty-one—'

'Passing by a secluded temple, I saw demons and ghosts rampaging. I drew my sword and slew them. A certain Tree Demon had considerable skill.'

'I pursued it for a hundred miles with my sword, killing one hundred and thirty-one ghosts. My body sustained dozens of wounds. I saved thirteen people.'

'At sunrise, I drank myself into a stupor under the purple clouds in the sky. So exhilarating!'

'August, Year Thirty-six—'

'The road is difficult. I saw a great drought and brought water to save the people.'

'I bought a pot of wine and left calmly.'

'June, Year Forty-one—'

'I encountered an Evil Cultivator using people to refine spells. Enraged, I pursued and killed him with my sword. I gravely wounded him, sacrificing thirteen years of my lifespan.'

'He said, "You too will fall into this path one day."'

'"Ha, what a joke. We cultivators should be like swords, living without shame. If that day comes, I'd rather end myself with my sword!"'

'"Those who dare to disrupt my Dao heart,"'

'"Evil heretics, everyone has the right to slay them!"'

'Year Fifty—'

'Breakthrough... failed. Ha, no matter. Today, I'll put aside cultivation and go drinking!'

'Year Fifty-one—'

'Breakthrough failed... Forget it, forget it.'

'Year Fifty-three—'

'Breakthrough failed.'

'Year Sixty— Returned home.'

'Zong Wei is dead. I saw her body carried past me.'

'My heart ached, I felt lost and bewildered, then walked back up the mountain.'

'In this place, I saw her marry. In this place, I saw her die. I saw her entire life.'

'That night, I drank alone and got drunk. In my drunken dream, I seemed to see my young self and her. My heart was filled with melancholy. When I woke, I was still lost. Should I have faced my true feelings back then and taken her away... Cultivating for a lifetime, yet achieving nothing here.'

'Did I... do the wrong thing?'

As Qi WuHuo flipped through the later pages, he saw that the once arrogant and spirited swordsman of his youth had experienced too much. He watched his friends pass away one by one, while he, no matter how he cultivated, was always one step short, always one step short. In the sixtieth year, the seventieth year, the eightieth year, it was all the same. Finally, when he reached the one hundredth year of cultivation, Qi WuHuo saw that the text had become chaotic and deranged.

'Failed again! Failed again! Failed again!'

'Could it be that when I fought others in my youth, I damaged my foundation?! I should have, I should have...'

'I should have just watched them die!'

'One hundred and tenth year.'

'Failure failure failure failure!!'

'One hundred and seventeenth year.'

'Attempting to refine the Blood Demon Pill. I only borrowed some human blood. It won't affect their lifespan, it won't.'

'It works, it works... Hahahahaha, it works, it works!'

'I feel my foundation returning somewhat. The Qi, the Qi is boiling, boiling!'

'There's a chance, there's a chance. I don't want to die, I don't want to die!'

Qi WuHuo looked at this page. He already knew who this book belonged to.

He seemed to take a slight breath, then quickly flipped through the rest, seeing the text like knives, recording how the once spirited youth of his youth gradually fell into the mire. First, it was using human blood for elixirs, then it was using human lifespans, and finally, it was using human destinies. His personality also gradually changed, becoming increasingly deranged and cautious, willing to do anything for longevity. Finally, on the last page, Qi WuHuo saw the final record—

'Spring, Year One hundred and thirty-one.'

'Zong Wei's grandson has also passed away.'

'My hometown truly means nothing to me anymore. This body is like a drifting reed, like a parasite in the world. All things in the world seem to have no connection with me anymore. My relatives are all dead, my friends have all fallen. Suddenly, I feel melancholic.'

'I drink wine until I'm drunk. Walking alone at night, I see a river flowing by. My lips are dry, and I want to drink some water to moisten my throat.'

'The moonlight is bright tonight. I lowered my head and suddenly froze.'

'In the moonlight on the water, the reflection looked like me, and yet not like me... It was the appearance of a young man, with sword-like eyebrows and piercing eyes, glaring at me. It looked like me when I was young, as if he wanted to draw his sword and kill me. I was stunned, the killing intent was so strong that I immediately collapsed onto the ground. For some reason, I was enraged.'

'I summoned my sword box and cleaved the water into pieces. I gasped for breath, but I still seemed to see the young me standing in the mist, looking at me. He seemed so far away, yet so close.'

'His eyes were too bright. I hated it.'

'He said, "[Evil heretics must be killed!]"'

'I went back. Since then, the sword I used in my youth, for some reason, would whimper every night.'

'It's an ominous sword.'

'I'm probably going to die...'

'I wanted to smash it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I bound it with countless red ropes, and in doing so, bound myself.'

'I want... immortality.'

PS: Those incantations also came from folk magical lineages.