Old Priest sighed deeply, while Brian Smith's heart pounded in his chest, as if he had seen a ray of dawn in the eternal night:

　　"It seems... it's not entirely impossible..."

Chapter Four: Martial Arts and Modern Weapons

　　"Master, even you can't do anything about Layman Smith's illness?"

　　Watching the figure gradually disappear down the steps, Young Priest couldn't help but look at Gavin Thompson.

　　"If the major hospitals can't help, what could Old Taoist possibly do? Little Brian knows this himself, he's just unwilling to accept it."

　　Old Priest tucked both hands into his sleeves, his expression calm.

　　Medicine is like martial arts.

　　If the greatest experts are in the Grand Xuan army, then the most skilled doctors are naturally found in the major hospitals.

　　In his whole life, he had treated only a few thousand people, while a doctor in a big hospital treats far more in just a year.

　　It's not just a matter of equipment and medicine.

　　If not truly desperate, who would hope to find a cure among the common folk?

　　"Then doesn't that mean Layman Smith..."

　　Young Priest felt a bit of pity.

　　"Life and death are in the hands of fate, destiny is unpredictable, and everyone must face this day eventually."

　　Old Priest sighed softly and turned to walk toward the temple:

　　"Rather than seeking immortality, it's better to seize the moment and live life without regrets."

　　"Without regrets..."

　　Young Priest glanced down the mountain, where the figure had long since vanished, and suddenly called out loudly:

　　"Master, I want to go down the mountain!"

　　...

　　Although there were still many things he wanted to try, Brian Smith didn't attempt them right away; his body couldn't handle any more strain.

　　After leaving Tianlian Mountain and making his way to the nearest city, night had already fallen. The last rays of the setting sun scattered between the tall buildings, soon to be drowned out by the city lights.

　　Xuanxing wasn't as technologically dazzling as the Earth of Brian Smith's dreams from his previous life, but it was still brilliant enough.

　　Everywhere he looked, the city was filled with rows of brightly lit skyscrapers, towering into the night.

　　For a year, Brian Smith had traveled among countless temples and sacred mountains. Now, as he decided to end his journey and return to the bustling city, it all felt strangely surreal.

　　Three hundred years of Grand Xuan had embraced foreign cultures while preserving three centuries of ancient charm.

　　Ancient temples and skyscrapers coexisted; traditional robes and suits were both common sights.

　　Not lingering in this unfamiliar city, Brian Smith hailed a cab straight to the train station, and soon boarded the train home.

　　"Son, are you coming back?"

　　His mother's cautious joy came through the phone.

　　"Yeah, I'll be there today. Mom, don't worry, go to bed early."

　　Brian Smith felt a pang in his heart.

　　Ever since he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, his parents had been tiptoeing around him.

　　Taking a break from school? Up to you. Traveling? Also up to you.

　　"There are a lot of people on the train, take care of yourself, just come home safe. Mom will make your favorite hairy crabs and braised pork..."

　　Listening to his mother's rambling on the phone, Brian Smith couldn't help but half-close his eyes to hide his tears.

　　Such nagging words... he could never get enough of them.

　　"Little Brother."

　　Just after hanging up, a Middle-aged Man with a suitcase approached, showing his ticket as a signal.

　　Brian Smith stood up; he hadn't bought a window seat.

　　Middle-aged Man put away his luggage, sat down, and greeted him warmly, "Where are you from, Little Brother?"

　　"From Xing City."

　　Brian Smith replied, not in the mood for much conversation.

　　"So you're from Xing City too? I'm from Cang City."

　　Middle-aged Man noticed Brian Smith's lack of interest and didn't press further.

　　He took out his phone and started watching a pre-downloaded video.

　　Out of the corner of his eye, Brian Smith saw that it was a newly released movie about the legendary figure Adam Sullivan from three hundred years ago.

　　"Tch! Another one of those fantasy dramas."

　　A Young Man across the aisle glanced at the screen. At that moment, the main character playing Adam Sullivan was dominating the scene, prompting a cold sneer:

　　"The current film industry does nothing but exploit our patriotism and insult our intelligence. What else can they do?"

　　"What are you trying to say?"

　　Middle-aged Man took off his earphones and looked at the Young Man, his expression darkening.

　　"Isn't it true?"

　　The Young Man ignored his companion's quiet attempts to calm him, raising his voice:

　　"I really admire Mr. Sullivan's character, but this kind of bottomless glorification—does it really honor Sir's sacrifice?"

　　"Enough!"

　　Middle-aged Man's face darkened with a hint of anger:

　　"You don't understand Mr. Sullivan, you don't understand martial arts!"

　　"It's you who doesn't understand modern weapons!"

　　The Young Man refused to back down:

　　"Your understanding of modern weapons probably comes only from those anti-Japanese war dramas. Do you know how fast a bullet travels? Do you know that a powerful gun can tear a person in half with a single shot?"

　　"Or do you think patriotism trumps everything? That with enough patriotism, you're invincible?"

　　"You—!"

　　Middle-aged Man's face turned red with anger.

　　Their argument drew the attention of everyone in the carriage away from their phones, and some even started recording videos.

　　The debate between martial arts and modern weapons has always been a hot topic among the people of Grand Xuan.