Chapter 111, This Life is Fleeting Like a Mayfly’s, Born in the Morning, Dead by the Evening!

Translator: StarReader

 

Su Chen surveyed his surroundings with a cold, indifferent gaze.

 

Bodies lay strewn across the ground. Over a hundred elite White Lotus Society thugs, high-ranking members, and pirates led by their first-rate Leader and experts had charged towards him without regard for their lives but were struck down by his flying leaves before they could get within thirty yards of him.

 

The smoke cleared to reveal that Mao’s bean soldiers, materializing as several dozen powerful warriors, had been completely shattered and destroyed by the leaves. Su Chen stood alone in the no-man’s-land between the two armies.

 

Su Chen’s brow furrowed with confusion. Founder Mao’s unique Bean Soldiers technique seemed so weak that it couldn’t even match the power of the lowest-grade talisman.

 

As Mao Ziyuan retreated into the White Lotus Society disciples, Su Chen couldn’t understand why this was happening.

 

The tens of thousands of soldiers in formation from both sides were frozen in place, too awestruck by his display of power to dare make a move…

 

“Did Daoist Han Shan, Founder Mao, and Liu Hong all perish?”

 

Governor Zhao Juzhen, Grandmaster Li Shuo, Sun Baihong, the various leaders and high-ranking officials, young heroes, and eight thousand soldiers and martial disciples stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding before them. Just moments ago, Daoist Han Shan had been invincible.

 

Daoist Han Shan had openly rebelled on Misty Peak, joining forces with Liu Hong and Mao Ziyuan to chase down the Grandmasters and martial disciples to the shores of Vastest Lake. In Northern Swamp, he’d injured Grandmaster Han Ya with a fire devil talisman, forcing him into retreat. Then, leading his pirate army of thirteen thousand, he threatened the allied forces, intent on wiping out their eight thousand soldiers with just five fire talismans…

 

Suddenly, the impending defeat was reversed. A mysterious blue-clad immortal appeared out of nowhere and sent five fireballs flying back at the pirates with a single strike, annihilating thousands in an instant. He then unleashed more extraordinary immortal arts, sending two clear wooden arrows that struck Daoist Han Shan, leaving him incapacitated and bloodied on the ground.

 

Liu Hong, leader of the Whale Gang, attempted to attack but was struck by his own toxic blades, flying off his horse into critical condition. Li Biao, the vice-leader, retreated into the pirate ranks with Liu Hong, too afraid to show himself again. Mao Ziyuan, head of the White Lotus Society, summoned spirit beans to create powerful guardians, only for them to be swiftly defeated by the mysterious immortal. The leaders finally realized their defeat and fled, leaving the joint forces in shock at their sudden victory.

 

In just a short moment, the tide had turned. The commanders and disciples were barely able to comprehend what had happened until Han Shan, Liu Hong, and Mao Ziyuan, the three main pirate chiefs, retreated and fled. It seemed like they might actually win.

 

“This is… a true immortal descending!” someone exclaimed.

 

“He must be a legendary immortal! His power is unstoppable. Even Han Mountain’s evil cult leader was no match for him!”

 

Zhao Juzhen, Li Shuo, Han Ya, and Sun Baihong all looked astonished. They had never seen such an awe-inspiring display of immortal prowess in their lives.

 

“Great Immortal! I am Gusu magistrate Wang. I thank you for saving our lives!” Wang fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

 

“Impossible! T-this is him?”

 

“This Immortal Master, he’s the one who was at the banquet just two nights ago with the Heaven Falcon Group and Ah Chou. He’s that disciple from the Medicine King Group…” Shadowless Whip Wu Qing, Han Yun, and Young Master Han exchanged astonished glances.

 

“An immortal in our midst!”

 

“Greetings, Immortal Master!”

 

The eight thousand disciples were stunned. Many knelt and cried out, “Immortal!”

 

They had only heard of such beings in legends passed down through generations.

 

“I-it’s Su Chen, isn’t it? When did he become an immortal?”

 

“Isn’t he Junior… no, it must be Immortal Su!”

 

Wang Fugui, Li Jiao, Zhang Tieniu, Yang Caizhi, Qin Huihui, and other disciples looked at each other in disbelief. They were among the few who knew Su Chen; their shock was magnitudes greater than others.

 

They had been fellow disciples for half a year before Su Chen left for the Errand Hall. Little did they know that years later, Su Chen would return as an immortal, leaving behind the martial world and reaching heights they could scarcely imagine.

 

“Medicine King Group… this Immortal Master, what’s his connection to our group? With him here, we have nothing to fear from Han Mountain’s sorcerer.”

 

One of the smaller leaders looked at Sun Baihong, questioning why this mysterious immortal wore the Medicine King Group’s blue-clad disciple attire. What was going on?

 

“I-I don’t know either!”

 

Sun Baihong chuckled bitterly. “I’m afraid my eyes have grown old… At the banquet last night, I saw Su Chen with my own eyes. I even promised to bring him into Medicine King Group’s Swordsmanship Hall after this battle, but I never suspected he was an Immortal.

 

“I may be a mere mortal,” he continued, “but who can understand the mind of an Immortal? Why would Immortal Su hide his identity in the Medicine King Group?”

 

Daoist Han Shan coughed loudly, spitting out several mouthfuls of blood before standing up. His face was even paler and more haggard than before, aged instantly as if on the brink of death.

 

He realized it was over. A true Immortal cultivator versus a mere martial artist like him, with or without talismans, there could be no victory.

 

The moment that an immortal cultivator appeared, the outcome was decided. His hopes had been in vain from the start.

 

Han Shan knew well the terrifying power of immortals. Born into an ancient and powerful immortal family, he had relatives, even a beautiful wife, and had inherited the family’s legacy. Yet, he could not cultivate immortality—a profound disgrace in his family. They said he was unsuitable, that this life held no hope for immortal cultivation, and that he should merely breed more descendants for the clan.

 

But Han Shan refused to accept it. On their wedding night, he abandoned his wife and clan, driven by an insatiable desire for immortal cultivation. He stole his family’s sacred immortal book and vanished into the mortal world, devoting himself to harsh training ever since.

 

In the Wu Region, under the name Daoist Han Shan, he had tirelessly cultivated for decades… Now in his sixties or seventies, there was still no sign of progress.

 

…

 

Su Chen pondered briefly before standing with his hands clasped behind him. He looked casually at Daoist Han Shan some distance away and said, “Daoist, you saved my life seventeen years ago, but my brother Ah Chou died by your hand. The debt is paid! But this world can’t hold someone like you. Anything else you want to say?”

 

“I’ve lost,” Han Shan replied.

 

“I’ve struggled here for decades, planning meticulously all this time, only to find it was all for nothing. Seventeen years ago, I saved a boy from a fishing village without thinking. It has to be heaven’s will for you to become immortal instead of me.

 

“The world is full of tiny mayflies, and even we Grandmasters are no more than small mayflies in the vast expanse of humanity. We’re born in the morning and dead by the evening, seeking just one moment of glorious transcendence, with no chance to turn back.”

 

Han Shan threw his head back and laughed bitterly.

 

This semi-Grandmaster, semi-immortal cultivator might be unrivaled in the Wu Region’s martial world, but faced with Su Chen, a true immortal cultivator, he was at the end of his rope.

 

The pirates’ vast army, including their Grandmasters, leaders, and first-rate martial experts, remained silent.

 

Han Shan was the Wu Region’s top Grandmaster, his status in the martial world was unmatched, even surpassing the five great help leaders. If he was just a mayfly… then what were they?

 

Only Su Chen understood Han Shan’s current melancholy and bitterness.

 

Daoist Han Shan had spent his life cultivating The Mayfly Chapter from the Wanderer’s Journey.

 

A human life seemed long, but in Han Shan’s eyes, it too was just a fleeting moment.

 

Mere dust in the wind.

 

A grand gesture was all we had in this brief life.

 

Daoist Han Shan had given up on the path to immortality, turning instead to seek worldly power. Alas, his plans were thwarted when he encountered Su Chen.

 

Su Chen sighed, unsure whether it was for Han Shan’s tragedy or his own missed opportunity. Han Shan, a grandmaster of the martial world, had fallen short in his pursuit of immortality.

 

“The mayfly lives but three months, its glory spent at first light. Born with the dawn, dead by dusk—that is life!

 

“Understand the path, and death holds no fear.

 

“Unhearing the way of immortals, my life shall be one of joyous abandon!

 

“The battle of Vastest Lake begins at dawn and ends at dusk. Such is fate! A hundred years as fleeting as a mayfly’s day. I, Zhuang Wuqi, live without regret, another mayfly in the endless sea!”

 

Han Shan staggered to the edge of Northern Swamp Lake, smiling, and sat facing north.

 

“Cast my life upon the winds, a mere grain on the vast shore.

 

Mourn my fleeting life, envy the river’s endless flow.

 

Dance with immortals, embrace the moon till life’s end.

 

Know that enlightenment cannot be rushed; leave echoes to the mourning breeze.

 

“I am Zhuang Wuqi, unrepentant in this life, reborn in immortal pursuit!”

 

Han Shan sat by the lake, sang a sorrowful song, then wept and struck himself down.

 

Life was but morning dew.

 

Under the sun’s gaze, mist and clouds disperse, leaving no trace behind. No matter how one struggled, could they escape the hundred-year limit?

 

The Wu Region’s first transcendent, the most fierce mastermind behind Vastest Lake’s battle, fell victim to his own palm strike at the edge of Vastest Lake and Northern Swamp.

 

Zhao Juzhen, along with assassin Han Ya, war god Li Shuo, Medicine King Sun Baihong, Grandmasters, young leaders, aspiring heroes, eight thousand armored naval soldiers, and countless martial disciples watched as Daoist Han Shan’s tragic exit left them shaken.

 

Moments passed before the edge of Vastest Lake. The reeds swayed, silent as death.