It was late autumn, and all things lay bleak and desolate.
The Xu Household Ancestral Residence.
A heavy smell of medicine permeated the air.
The old locust tree before the courtyard had shed nearly all its leaves, adding to the desolation.
The Xu Household's old patriarch, Xu Changgeng, lay on his bed, his face like gold paper, his breath as faint as a thread.
This old man, who had managed his household frugally and passed down a tradition of farming and study, now lay at death's door.
Below him, his children and grandchildren knelt in a dark, dense mass.
Sobs sounded low, beneath gloomy clouds of grief.
Xu Changgeng's consciousness was muddled. Seventy-eight years flashed before his eyes like glimmers on water and passing shadows.
His family had been poor when he was young, and he had tended cattle and sheep for others. In his youth, he had striven hard, studying day and night.
In middle age, an opportunity had come his way, allowing him to buy a modest patch of farmland. From there, he had prospered, building a substantial estate.
In his later years, children and grandchildren had gathered around his knees, four generations living under one roof...
All these memories surfaced in his heart.
For some unknown reason, many wondrous images suddenly appeared in the depths of his mind.
Atop Mount Kunlun, a sea of clouds surged; in a secluded cultivation abode, mist wreathed an alchemical furnace.
A heavenly tribulation swept down, thunderbolts engulfed him, and a spark of true spirit fell into the unseen.
The Book of Time inscribed a life chart; reincarnated through possession, he took the name Changgeng.
"So that was it..."
Xu Changgeng's clouded eyes abruptly cleared, and he struggled to sit up.
Those around him were startled and hurried forward to support him.
"Father!"
"Grandfather, please take care of yourself!"
He pushed his children's and grandchildren's arms away.
His withered fingers trembled as he dipped them into the medicine left in the bowl beside his bed, then began writing rapidly on the plain bed curtains.
The liquid was dark brown, and the strokes carried an indescribable resonance of the Dao.
He traced out several lines of strange mnemonic verses.
Alongside them, he drew a diagram of the body's energy channels and their circulation.
"This is the Grain Garment Art."
The old man's voice was hoarse, but his manner brooked no doubt.
"Its name means 'drawing the essence of the hundred grains and weaving it into a garment.'"
"Though it is not a great Dao of the immortals, it is nevertheless a method for when there is no other recourse."
"If you practice diligently without ceasing, you can strengthen your sinews and bones, ward off evil spirits, extend your lifespan, and nurture internal energy, far surpassing worldly martial arts."
At that moment, all his children and grandchildren were stunned. They looked at one another, at a loss.
The Xu Household had passed down farming and scholarship through the generations. When had they ever witnessed anything so mysterious?
Could the old patriarch have become delirious from illness and begun spouting nonsense?
His eldest grandson, Xu Chengye, was over forty and the steadiest among them. Holding back his grief, he asked in a trembling voice:
"Patriarch, could what you speak of be an immortal's cultivation method?"
Xu Changgeng.
No.
He should have been Xu Xuan, in whom a wisp of his previous life's true spirit had awakened.
His gaze swept over his blood relatives kneeling below.
All he saw were mortal bodies and ordinary bones; not one possessed spiritual roots.
He could not help sighing inwardly:
The spiritual energy in this realm is faint. It is certainly no great thousandfold realm. Immortal cultivators may be difficult to find.
No wonder I only recovered my true spirit at death's door, after seventy-eight years in this life.
Sadly, this lifetime is already over.
Ignoring his descendants' concern, he spoke with severity in every word:
"I pass this art to you. If you practice it steadfastly, it can keep your household peaceful and safe, and hold a hundred illnesses at bay."
His gaze flashed like lightning as he selected several descendants whose usual dispositions were the steadiest and most honest.
Then he carefully explained the mnemonic verses, the method of circulating energy, and the changes in breathing once more.
Though what he described was the most basic foundation of qi-refining cultivation, it was already a marvelous method of nourishing life that mortals in this realm could scarcely obtain.
"This method must not be passed on lightly."
Xu Xuan's tone grew stern.
"If you practice this method, you must swear to guard it carefully and never divulge it, to carry on the lineage and keep the bloodline unbroken..."
"Conduct yourselves well..."
With that, the light in his eyes dimmed, as though he had exhausted his last shred of strength.
His body abruptly fell back, and he passed away.
The room fell silent for a moment, then cries of grief erupted, their wailing shaking the heavens.
Yet no one saw the spark of true spirit escape from between the old man's brows and vanish into an illusory book in the unseen.
That book resembled jade, yet was not jade; resembled silk, yet was not silk.
Light flowed across it, and an aura of the vicissitudes of time spread from it.
It was none other than the supreme wondrous treasure, the Book of Time.
"Book of Time, record of the first life."
"In this life, he assumed the name Xu Changgeng and lived seventy-eight years. Of mortal flesh and impure bones, he possessed no spiritual roots. He created and passed down the Grain Garment Art, bestowing its benefits upon his descendants..."
Within the chaotic mist, Xu Xuan's consciousness gradually cleared.
This place was the mysterious space within the Book of Time.
At the very front, many fleeting images gradually appeared on a blank page.
Herding livestock in childhood, studying in youth, passing half his life in ignorance before finally acquiring a little modest farmland.
Later, marrying and having children, continuing the ancestral line, with four generations beneath one roof...
The images finally settled on the scene of him teaching the Grain Garment Art.
Then light flashed, and those fleeting images were imprinted on the blank space, becoming a life chart.
Before Xu Xuan, numerous tiny golden characters shaped like tadpoles appeared:
"One lifetime has ended."
"Though an untitled commoner in this life, mediocre and without accomplishment, he continued his line through four generations, spreading branches and leaves. With one hundred and three direct descendants, his estate could be called prosperous and his family flourishing."
"Granted the white register, Extended Years and Long Life."
"The register reads: spring wood flourishes, spiritual energy excels, lifespan increases by forty years."
The tiny golden characters soon dispersed, turning into flowing light that entered Xu Xuan's remnant soul.
Immediately, Xu Xuan's true spirit trembled, and he felt the change in himself.
This white register actually extends my lifespan, adding forty years. Even at a hundred, my movements will not decline...
After understanding its meaning, Xu Xuan felt a little more anticipation for his next life.
He, Xu Xuan, had originally been a rogue cultivator of Kunlun.
Riding clouds and mist, plucking stars and grasping the moon-none of these had been beyond him.
The common man was innocent; possessing a precious jade made him guilty.
He had obtained this supreme treasure by chance and had yet to unravel its mysteries.
Then others had come to seize it.
Though Xu Xuan had possessed many means, he had been outnumbered. With his tribulation descending as well, he had ultimately perished there.
Who could have expected the Book of Time to protect his true spirit, bringing him instead to this realm, where he possessed Xu Changgeng?
The Book of Time is a supreme treasure of heaven and earth, capable of breaking through realms, piercing the void, and reversing the flow of time.
Now that I have passed down a cultivation method, if the Xu Household's descendants practice diligently, they should have no difficulty multiplying among these mortals...
Unless they provoke a powerful enemy and their entire household is wiped out in a single day... the likelihood of that is not great.
I wonder how many years will pass before I reincarnate again, and whether I can pierce the mystery of the womb early and awaken the wisdom of my past life...
With that, Xu Xuan's consciousness sank completely into obscurity.
Everything from his previous life endured only within the life chart.
Heyang Prefecture, Kingdom of Wu.
Xu Household Market.
This place had originally been an ordinary village.
As the Xu clan lived and multiplied here, it had gradually grown into something substantial over several decades.
The Xu Household's descendants practiced the Grain Garment Art.
Though none had reached a profound level.
Every one of them had a strong physique, far surpassing ordinary farmers.
They worked the fields with astonishing efficiency, seldom fell ill, and enjoyed somewhat longer lives.
After several generations of accumulation, their wealth grew steadily. They acquired extensive farmland, laid roads, and repaired their homes.
They had managed Xu Household Market into a place with quite an air of prosperity.
At the center of the entire Xu Household stood the newly renovated Xu Ancestral Hall.
With blue bricks, black tiles, upswept eaves, and interlocking brackets, it was solemn and imposing.
Incense offerings flourished within the hall, and smoke curled through the air.
Above, alongside the ancestral tablets of past generations, hung a portrait of Xu Changgeng in his later years.
The old man in the painting had a lean face and deep eyes, with considerable dignity.
The clansmen regarded him as the ancestor who had revived the lineage.
At that moment, in a quiet courtyard beside the ancestral hall.
A loud infant's cry abruptly pierced the afternoon stillness.
"The baby's here! The baby's here! It's a boy!"
"Mother and child are both safe!"
The midwife's delighted voice carried out of the room.
The current household head, Xu Chengye, who had long been waiting in the courtyard, let out a deep breath.
He bore a seventy-percent resemblance to Xu Changgeng and was his eldest grandson.
Now he, too, was an old man with graying temples, already over eighty.
The infant who had just cried out was the eldest grandson of his most valued third son.
To him, this was his fifth great-grandson.
"Good! Good!"
"Give the midwife a reward!"
Xu Chengye stroked his beard and nodded, his face showing gratification.
"Listen to that cry-so loud and full of vigor. He is sure to become a fine man who practices the Grain Garment Art!"
The clansmen around him smiled and chimed in.
For the Xu Household of today, the Grain Garment Art was already the foundation of its standing.
Anyone well suited to this art would surely be entrusted with important duties by the lineage.
"Household head, has this child been given a name yet?"
Hearing this, Xu Chengye considered for a moment, then said:
"This child is the fifth in his family. Following the 'Dao' generation, we shall name him Daocheng."
"May he achieve something in this art in the future and bring glory to our ancestors."
"Xu Daocheng..." someone murmured thoughtfully.
"A good name!"
"The household head has chosen well!"
"Little Daocheng will surely live up to these high hopes!"
A reincarnation story, not an ensemble lineage story.