The righteous path punishes Heaven

Chapter 115 Banishing Immortal

"Cough! Cough cough!..."

Zhang Yunling lay on a wooden bed, covered with a blanket. He had finally woken up after being unconscious for several days.

He struggled to get up, intending to support himself with his arms, but instead fell back onto the bed. Only then did he realize that his left arm had been cut off.

With no other option, Zhang Yunling slowly supported himself with his right arm and sat up. He raised his hand and touched his face, clutching a wisp of white beard in his hand. It turned out that he had completely transformed into an old man.

Turning my head, I saw a woman with long pink hair sleeping on the edge of the bed, snoring rhythmically with her breathing, indicating that she was sleeping soundly.

Looking around, Zhang Yunling noticed that the wooden cabinet by the bed was filled with all kinds of pills. He also noticed that the woman's robe was missing a sleeve, and then he realized that the wound on his left arm was wrapped with a piece of white silk.

"I never expected this woman to go to such lengths to take care of me..." This woman was none other than Dong Wan.

Seeing that the other person was fast asleep, Zhang Yunling smiled slightly, lifted the blanket on the bed, and draped it over Dong Wan.

As Zhang Yunling stepped out of the room and tried to move his body, he felt a sharp pain all over his body. Blood then flowed from the corner of his mouth. It seemed that the previous battle had caused him great damage, even affecting his very essence.

It was the dead of winter when Zhang Yunling pushed open the door and saw snow falling heavily outside. Normally, as a cultivator, he would be completely immune to this level of low temperature, but for some reason, as a cold wind blew in, Zhang Yunling shivered and felt a chill sweep over his entire body.

"This... could it be that my cultivation has been destroyed again?" Recalling his past experiences, Zhang Yunling reached out and touched his dantian in his abdomen. The continuous pain made him dare not circulate his meridians. Even though he still had doubts, he had no choice but to give up.

Zhang Yunling tightened his robes and strode outside.

Even though the wind and snow kept hitting him and bringing him cold, it was as if some strange thing was pulling him forward, and he kept walking.

As he walked, he began to recall the battlefield. The tactics he had planned were all in vain in the face of the enemy's overwhelming strength. Before he could even struggle, it was all over.

Zhang Yunling looked up at the sky, snowflakes falling on his wrinkled face. Gradually, his gaze became unfocused, his consciousness blurred, and he slowly lost awareness of the pain in his body.

He walked on like that, stepping on the snow, leaving a trail of footprints behind him, which were gradually filled in by the falling snow, leaving no trace, as if he had never been there.

After an unknown amount of time, Zhang Yunling regained consciousness. When he looked at the scenery in front of him again, he saw a wooden house not far away with a fire burning in front of it, constantly emitting gray smoke.

Seeing the orange-yellow flames, Zhang Yunling felt even colder, so he quickened his pace toward the wooden house.

As they approached, they saw two people sitting by the fire. One of them was an elderly man with a full head of white hair, just like Zhang Yunling. The other man, though younger, still had a few strands of white beard among his black hair.

Zhang Yunling staggered toward the two of them. The latter noticed Zhang Yunling walking toward the fire and politely invited him to sit down around the fire.

Zhang Yunling smiled and nodded, then plopped down opposite the two men. The three of them sat silently by the fire in the midst of the heavy snow.

Sensing the somewhat oppressive atmosphere, Zhang Yunling spoke up, "Thank you both for allowing me to warm up here. May I ask your names?"

The slightly younger man replied, "My name is Du Fu. I fled from the capital. Originally, I had no fixed abode with my wife and children. It was only by chance that this old gentleman took us in, which is why we are able to gather here."

Hearing the man claim to be Du Fu, Zhang Yunling was somewhat shocked, but given his current predicament, he had no time to care about such things.

Zhang Yunling nodded and turned to look at the old man, about to ask a question, but the old man asked in return, "It's been a long time. How is your poetry coming along?"

Upon hearing this, Zhang Yunling was taken aback for a moment, then recalled that the old man was the same old man who called himself Li Bai and grew vegetables at the foot of the mountain in Chengfeng Town more than ten years ago.

"Alas, my talent and learning are too shallow to compose poetry," Zhang Yunling sighed.

The old man shook his head, said nothing more, and silently picked up the fire poker in his hand to add firewood to the fire in front of him.

Du Fu, standing to the side, looked up at the sky as night fell and slowly recited: "The year draws to a close, the yin and yang hasten the short days, and frost and snow clear the cold night at the ends of the earth."

"Oh, what a fine poem!" the old man exclaimed from the side.

Zhang Yunling smiled helplessly. Of course he knew who this Du Fu was, but what puzzled him was that when he first found this old man, the old man clearly claimed that he did not understand poetry, so how could he now be hanging out with Du Fu?

As if reading Zhang Yunling's thoughts, the old man interrupted him before he could ask again: "Back then, I told you to write poetry, but you haven't made any progress in the past ten years. No wonder you've ended up like this."

Zhang Yunling looked at his severed left arm and laughed self-deprecatingly, "Hehehe, there's nothing I can do, I've already lost. I regret indulging in pleasure, fame and fortune, and even forgetting my original purpose for coming here... Perhaps this An Lushan Rebellion is my punishment."

Du Fu was somewhat puzzled; clearly, he couldn't possibly understand these things. Since An Lushan launched his rebellion, Du Fu had been on the run, and these events were too distant and meaningless to him.

The old man snorted coldly, poking the fire with a fire poker as he scolded Zhang Yunling: "The whole world is suffering, what's the point of talking about punishing you? Do you think all the disasters that people are suffering are just because you're enjoying yourself in the capital? What right do you have to take responsibility for all of this?"

Zhang Yunling fell silent, a sense of self-reproach welling up inside him. The old man was right, but he had lost all fighting spirit and was now willing to accept the reality of defeat. His Dao heart had wavered.

Zhang Yunling looked up at the night sky. The snow was falling heavier and heavier, covering all three of them with a blanket woven from white snow, yet none of them wanted to get up and leave. The desolate mood that filled the air seemed to bind them to the small campfire.

With a soft sigh, Zhang Yunling slowly began to recite: "Past joyous outings are now just dreams, today regrets linger in my heart. My lofty ambitions have vanished with the wind, this lingering resentment is left to the passing years..."

The old man shook his head and said earnestly, "No one can blame you for anything, and there's no need to regret what you did back then. These few decades are just a blink of an eye; you still have a long road ahead of you."

"A person's success is only temporary; most of the time, they experience failure. But how they face failure is what makes them different. If you always live in the regrets of the past, are defeated by failure, and are overwhelmed by remorse, then you lose the meaning of your life. Is this still the person you wanted to be?"

At this point, the old man reached out and patted the patched, worn-out storage bag at Zhang Yunling's waist.

Zhang Yunling realized something and pulled something out of his storage bag—it was the yellow gourd.

The old man snatched the gourd and, without waiting for Zhang Yunling to speak, began to drink it in large gulps.

Du Fu, who was standing nearby, patted Zhang Yunling on the shoulder and comforted him, saying, "Heroes have never been like us, so do not lament the long journey ahead."

The old man chuckled, seemingly still feeling the effects of the alcohol. He put his arm around Du Fu beside him and recited loudly, "Heaven has endowed me with talents, which will surely be put to use; though a thousand pieces of gold are spent, they will return again!"

Zhang Yunling laughed along with him, took the gourd of wine from the old man, and drank it down in large gulps as well.

As the wine flowed into his stomach, the heavy weight in his heart was lifted. He slowly closed his eyes, and all his worries gradually vanished.

He thought of his adoptive father, Zhang He, and the time when his father worked hard to support him as he grew up and went to school. Although it was hard, he was very happy.

He thought of his father's killer, who was the driving force behind his struggle on the path of cultivation. His life was given to him by his adoptive father, and he had to take revenge. He couldn't afford to fall yet.

Only after finishing the wine did he let out a long breath, open his eyes, and finally understand everything.

"If... I hadn't become an official back then, would everything have been different?"

Zhang Yunling spoke as if asking a question, or perhaps talking to himself.

"Of course you know the true course of this history, but since you have chosen to become an official, you have embarked on a new journey. From now on, I am Li Bai, and you are also Li Bai."

Zhang Yunling smiled and stopped speaking, but the gourd in his hand suddenly began to emit a golden light.

The old man pulled the fire poker out of the fire and handed it to Zhang Yunling, saying in a deep voice:

"No matter what the future holds, I hope you will be like this fire poker, never turning to ashes no matter how many times you are burned in the raging flames, remaining indomitable and standing tall!"

Zhang Yunling felt his long-depleted spiritual root regain its vitality at this moment. He took the wooden stick handed to him by the old man and nodded vigorously.

In an instant, the gourd in his hand suddenly burst out with dazzling golden light, and his body flew into the air involuntarily. The golden light enveloped his entire body, and his originally aged face quickly became young again. What he held in his hand was no longer that charred fire stick, but a brand new three-foot long sword!

The snow gradually dissipated, leaving only him shining brightly in the sky.

Once you attain enlightenment, you will see your true self, and all the shackles of the past will vanish like smoke!

The spiritual energy on the longsword spread along the meridians in his wrist to his entire body, leaving an imprint in his dantian. It became his righteous path, his natal magic weapon, representing perseverance and unwavering strength.

He poured his original divine sense into it, and at this moment he finally understood who the old man was, and that this sword was the immortal weapon—the Immortal Sword!