The Fourth Life

"Auntie can't take it anymore!"

Pan Shi was in the throes of excitement, her voice already a little hoarse, but her lustful cries were excessive, lacking Chen Yuyin's soft, lilting tones.

Her whole family came from elsewhere, and whenever passion became impossible to contain, some strange local accent would slip out.

[Hundred-Life Reincarnation]

[Third life: lifespan of fifty-two years]

[Inscription: endure in silence and lay your plans, scheme over human hearts. One great dream, and all things come to nothing.]

[Available talents: photographic memory, tendon and bone tempering]

The available talents corresponded to things he had never stopped thinking about in his previous life.

In his previous life, Meng Yuan had earnestly worked on two things and one person: conquering the realm, probing its secrets, and Chen Yuyin.

As for what he had yearned for, contending for the realm was a means; uncovering the secrets of the Immortal Mausoleum was the goal.

"I don't need photographic memory. Diligence can make up for that."

Meng Yuan really had worked hard to memorize things in his previous life, from every inch of his sister-in-law, inside and out, to the route into the mountains. He had even felt his way over every inch of Peach Valley and the Immortal Mausoleum.

The tendon and bone tempering talent was different. It transformed his own body, making his tendons and bones stronger and offering greater benefits to his martial training.

"Did this talent come from having my tendons severed and my bones broken in my previous life?"

"I already acquired the martial arts prodigy talent in my previous life. My tendons and bones were far stronger than an ordinary person's, but I still fell short of a genius like Lü Yinglong.

"I wonder whether I can match talents with Lü Yinglong in this life."

When Meng Yuan had followed Lü Yinglong in conquering the realm two lives ago, he had never seen Lü Yinglong practice martial arts. It was as though once that fellow mastered one thing, he mastered everything.

"If I can temper my tendons and bones again, I'll certainly climb another floor."

With that thought, Meng Yuan immediately chose tendon and bone tempering.

Heat surged within him. Meng Yuan felt his tendons and bones vibrating, his meridians seemingly about to tear apart, his whole body swelling as though it would burst.

"Hei Wa, Hei Wa! Good heavens!" Pan Shi's assorted cries reached his ears as she writhed and coiled like a snake.

Meng Yuan had grown accustomed to sleeping with a dead pig and had long since become as placid as an autumn chrysanthemum. Seeing Pan Shi drenched in sweat, he wiped it away for her.

"Why've you stopped? What're you thinking about, Hei Wa? We're stealing pleasure, but you can't shirk the work!" Pan Shi urged.

"Auntie, I'm wondering whether I turned into a butterfly in a dream, or a butterfly turned into me in its dream," Meng Yuan said.

"What? What butterfly?" Pan Shi took this for dirty talk. She pinched Meng Yuan and urged, "Now that you mention butterflies, it really does look a bit like one. Come on, make Auntie's butterfly fly!"

"..." Meng Yuan rubbed his brow. Even with both the martial arts prodigy and tendon and bone tempering talents, he felt somewhat powerless.

Women-there wasn't one who wasn't trouble.

He got off the bed and dressed in a few swift movements.

"Hei Wa, where're you going?" Pan Shi was still holding her pose.

Meng Yuan went to the bedside, reached beneath the pillow, and pulled out a wooden box. "I'm taking this. Also, stop soaking dates in the chamber pot. Master Cheng will be here soon. Be careful."

He could not even be bothered to extort her anymore. Meng Yuan took the money and left.

"You..." Left hanging, Pan Shi was utterly bewildered. "Why do you look like an old hand at getting a free ride? Don't go! Are you coming back to harvest wheat next year? Auntie won't forget you..."

Meng Yuan returned to his lodgings, fetched water to rinse off his stinking sweat, and lay down on the mat. Listening to Old Yang snore, he pinched a wheat awn between his fingers and thought.

By now, how could Meng Yuan still fail to understand? He had not cultivated immortality in his previous life. Everything had been false, all an illusion.

He had probably even fallen victim before he reached the candle flame.

"Truly marvelous. I could just about be called cautious, and that dream was clearly riddled with holes, yet I explained them all away to myself and believed it completely."

"The bronze candlestick's supernatural property must be drawing people into an illusion, then consuming their essence blood until they die without illness."

Meng Yuan was only a mortal. He could make a rough guess at what those immortal methods did, but had no idea how they worked.

Yet Meng Yuan had finally awakened at death's door in his previous life, and that had given him a way to pass this trial.

After thinking for a long while, Meng Yuan rose, sat cross-legged, and regulated his breathing to practice internal cultivation.

Because he would be visiting the Immortal Mausoleum in the future, Meng Yuan avoided the Pure Yang Dragon-Controlling Art to spare himself trouble and switched to the Purple Cloud Technique instead.

After one full circulation, a faint thread of internal power formed in his Dantian.

Meng Yuan practiced until dawn, feeling increasingly refreshed. His internal power was already comparable to five or six days of practice in his previous life.

"The Red Flame Fruit won't be ready to pick for another two years. But at this rate of progress, even two or three years of practicing the Purple Cloud Technique will let me get past that Sword Qi bottle. There's no need to steal Brother Lü's opportunity again."

Remembering the way Chen Yuyin had looked at him before his death in his previous life, that look of relief, Meng Yuan no longer wanted to partner with her.

That woman was full of schemes and particularly skilled at weighing gains and losses.

After decades of sharing a bed as husband and wife, Meng Yuan had only learned her body inside out; he had never fathomed her heart.

"This way, Chen Yuyin and Lü Yinglong can go back to disturbing and tormenting each other."

"The immortal once said that anyone who strayed into the Immortal Mausoleum possessed great fortune, and forbade the Three Surnames from mistreating them. Then I'll go straight to their door. There's even less need to take a roundabout route to get a hold over Chen Yuyin."

He washed his face early that morning, collected his wages, and went home with Old Yang, buying some dark sugar on the way.

"A man's ambitions lie in all directions. I'm heading out to make my way in the world and marry a rich family's daughter! If I don't come back, I'll leave it to Eldest Brother to support Father!"

Meng Yuan left his wages behind and dashed out the door.

He chose a place to practice the Purple Cloud Technique, spending a few days as an itinerant physician whenever he had spare time.

Two years passed in the blink of an eye, and wheat harvest came around again.

Meng Yuan arrived in Tiannan Province. Seeing that it was getting late, he spent the night at a brothel.

"Young master, you're so vigorous. I have a way for you to make a fortune..." After he woke the next day and settled his bill, the madam tried to persuade Meng Yuan to sell his body.

"My apologies, but I quit that line of work long ago!" Meng Yuan was a gentleman as fine as jade, so naturally he declined politely.

"That dark bastard's putting on airs! Pah!" Once Meng Yuan left, the madam fumed and made snide remarks.

Meng Yuan paid her no mind. He changed into a Daoist robe, purchased three iron swords, and brought pills to ward off miasma and poison before heading into the mountains.

Although he had taken this route in his previous life, the mountain trees were tall and the terrain complicated. Meng Yuan went astray several times.

After more than a month, he reached Black Hair Ravine and once again saw the waterfall and its deep pool.

He scooped up water to wash his face, ate a tiger penis, then passed through the waterfall into the passage behind it.

Emerging from the passage, he found the peach trees unchanged. There were no peach blossoms, but there was a lovely face.

"Hey! Little Daoist!"

A woman stood leaning against a peach tree, a longsword cradled in her arms. She tipped her chin at Meng Yuan.

She looked about twenty, dressed in a jade-green top, with a pair of shining, pitch-black eyes.

"Where did you come from, little Daoist?" the woman asked.

"From whence I came," Meng Yuan said.

"And where are you going?" she asked again.

"To where I shall go," Meng Yuan said.

"I hate pretentious people like you most of all!" The woman immediately drew her sword. "Take this!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Seeing how fiercely she attacked, Meng Yuan hurriedly drew his sword to block.

The peach trees grew densely. The two fought with ringing clashes for a quarter of an hour, then exchanged three palm strikes, each revealing something of their capabilities.

"You practice the Purple Cloud Technique?" The woman sheathed her sword and planted her hands on her hips. "Your face is far too dark. If I weren't sharp-eyed, I'd have missed the purple tinge on it!"

"A month or so of care will make it fair again." Meng Yuan had also realized that this woman was Pei Liuguang, who practiced the Pei Clan's hereditary Still Water Art.

All three mausoleum-guarding families understood medicine and possessed inherited internal cultivation methods. The Chen family's was the Pure Yang Art, supremely hard and supremely yang; the Bai Clan's was the Serene Billows Art, supremely yin and supremely soft; the Pei Clan's was the Still Water Art, balanced and gentle.

Of course, beyond these, each had other inheritances as well, all exceedingly exquisite cultivation arts.

"You're wearing a Daoist robe, so you're a Daoist, right?" Pei Liuguang grinned, showing not the slightest wariness. "If you're a Daoist, you know how to chant funeral scriptures, don't you?"

She was flippant and careless. Meng Yuan patiently exchanged a few more words with her, then entered Peach Valley.