A gentle breeze swept through the air, carrying a faint yet unmistakable stench of decay.
The rustling of dry leaves broke the silence, as a few fluttered down from the treetops, only to vanish into nothingness before touching the ground.
Li Fan distinctly saw something on the surface of the leaves—a fleeting glimpse of twisted, agonized faces.
Under normal circumstances, anyone witnessing such a bizarre scene would inevitably feel a chill of terror.
Yet, at this moment, in Li Fan’s eyes, this place known as “Withering Human Life” was nothing short of enchanting.
Taking a deep breath, the putrid air filled his lungs, and he found it oddly sweet.
Greedily, he inhaled a few more times.
He carefully observed the cultivators hanging from the trees and noticed their lifeless black eyes devoid of pupils, paired with eerie smiles on their faces.
Their hair had fused with the branches, serving as ropes to suspend their bodies.
Others seemed to have been hanging there for years, their clothes corroded and tattered.
Rotten branches wound around their bodies, covering exposed flesh while deeply piercing their muscles and sinews.
“Marvelous! Truly marvelous!”
Without needing the Daoist Xiumu to explain, Li Fan immediately understood the mechanisms of this place the moment he stepped into Withering Human Life.
Facing this ghastly scene, not only did Li Fan feel no fear or vigilance, but he clapped his hands in admiration.
His tone carried a hint of envy, as if he believed that all cultivators should naturally be hung upon such branches.
Moreover, to have the dead tree pierce their flesh seemed to him an unimaginable honor.
“How is it, Fellow Daoist Yu? Was my description exaggerated?” The Daoist Xiumu, appearing more frail than ever, coughed violently for a long time before catching his breath to ask. Řâ𐌽o͍฿ĚS
“Indeed, your words ring true!” Li Fan nodded in agreement.
“This creation is truly extraordinary! What is the name of this tree?” Staring intently at the withered giant tree, his eyes glowed with obsession.
“It was once called ‘Ruomu,’ but now…” Daoist Xiumu also raised his head, his expression unreadable.
[TL Note: Ruomu means ‘a young tree’ or ‘sapling’]
“It is known as ‘The Eternal Wall of the River of Life.’”
Though the name was difficult to pronounce, the moment the Daoist Xiumu uttered it, Li Fan immediately understood its meaning.
“It has existed since time immemorial and will continue to exist eternally, standing tall above the River of Life, like a wall that holds up the heavens.”
“Still, I prefer its original name,” Li Fan said, shaking his head.
The Daoist Xiumu let out a low chuckle, unfazed. “A name is but a label. As time flows and generations of living beings rise and fall, their terms for it change as well.”
“But none of that affects its existence.”
For some reason, a shadow seemed to flicker through the Daoist Xiumu’s eyes as he said this.
Li Fan, however, agreed and replied, “That may be true, but the present is no longer what it once was.”
Every moment spent here brought countless visions into Li Fan’s mind.
Naturally, he came to know much about the tree and its history.
With a wistful look, he recited softly:
“When heaven and earth birthed life, Ruomu claimed their years. It drew their essence to bear the Fruit of Longevity, granting eternal life to those who consumed it.”
Daoist Xiumu’s cloudy eyes seemed to brighten as he heard Li Fan’s words, turning slightly with a glimmer of light.
After a long silence, the two resumed their conversation.
“Fellow Daoist Yu, you truly possess great wisdom!” the Daoist Xiumu sighed.
“Of the countless cultivators who have come here to witness this, few have adapted as quickly as you.”
Li Fan’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he said in a low voice, “It is not that I am wise but that others are ignorant.”
“How are these cultivators fundamentally different from any other living creature?”
“Trees bear fruit, flowers yield nectar. Beasts give birth to offspring, birds lay eggs.”
“Humans consume these as sustenance, deeming it ordinary. Why, then, should they find it unacceptable when they themselves are consumed?”
“Do they truly believe themselves to be the spirit of the heavens, the masters of all creation?”
Li Fan sneered.
Daoist Xiumu was momentarily taken aback, as Li Fan had preemptively voiced his own argument, leaving him momentarily speechless.
“In my view, it is nothing more than the law of the jungle,” Li Fan continued, shaking his head.
“To devour now is satisfying. Should the day come when one is devoured, there should be no complaints. The way of heaven is fair, and karma spares no one!”
Li Fan swayed slightly, deeply immersed in his own thoughts.
Daoist Xiumu stared at Li Fan for a while before suddenly understanding.
“Ah, so your mindset hasn’t changed—you’ve always thought this way.”
“What a pity, what a pity!”
Daoist Xiumu shook his head slightly.
Li Fan, however, appeared indifferent, as though he hadn’t heard the old man’s words.
He continued gazing at the withered Ruomu, as if something within it deeply captivated him.
“To think that such an anomaly would arise among cultivators…” Daoist Xiumu furrowed his brows, seemingly deep in thought.
“Cough, cough…”
He suddenly burst into a violent coughing fit, green blood faintly seeping from the corners of his mouth.
Above him, the Ruomu trembled without wind, shedding countless withered leaves.
“Good riddance, good riddance!”
Daoist Xiumu’s face twisted with a momentary ferocity as he laughed wildly.
“So the heavens are fair, and even the wicked have their comeuppance!”
“This child is useless to me here. It’s better to send him back to sow chaos!”
“Karma—everything is karma!”
…
After his outburst, Daoist Xiumu gradually regained his composure, returning to the demeanor he had when first meeting Li Fan.
“Fellow Daoist Yu, now that you’ve seen it for yourself, I trust you’re satisfied with the quality of our… products?”
“Shall we proceed with our prior agreement?” he asked with a sinister grin.
“Agreement?” Li Fan turned, momentarily dazed.
“Oh, that matter! No rush!” he replied, waving it off as if it were trivial.
“Ha-ha-ha…”
Daoist Xiumu let out his unsettling laughter once more. “This place is fascinating, but it’s not where you belong.”
“I believe the outside world, the Xuanhuang Realm, suits you far better.”
Li Fan was about to protest, but Daoist Xiumu grabbed his shoulder.
Billowing gray mist rose from the ground, quickly enveloping him.
“Why are you so eager to send me away, Daoist?” Li Fan asked anxiously.
Daoist Xiumu sneered but did not answer.
“You wanted a Golden Core, right? Well, since I’m feeling generous, I’ll gift you some for free this time!”
As the gray mist obscured his vision, Li Fan vaguely heard the Daoist Xiumu’s voice.
His sight blurred, and he stumbled, finding himself back in the guest courtyard of the Discussing-Dao Tower in Tianling Prefecture.
Daoist Xiumu, “The Eternal Wall of the River of Life,” and the countless cultivators hanging from its branches had vanished as if they were never there.
It all felt like a hallucination.
But the withered branch lying quietly on the table served as undeniable proof.
No longer under the tree’s influence, Li Fan’s thoughts returned to normal.
Recalling his recent experience, he felt as though he had plunged into an icy abyss.
Yet, fearing that the Daoist Xiumu might still be watching, he suppressed his terror and feigned calm.
