He had grown up in Saints Hill, and when he suffered his first setback in life, he became disheartened. Even among mortals, he was gloomy and dispirited, drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Later, one day, as he was riding his horse near a cliff, the horse was startled and fell off the mountain.

Because there were green pines growing in the crevices of the cliff, which broke his fall in midair, and with the horse cushioning him at the bottom, he was lucky to survive.

However, after falling off the cliff, his right leg was broken, and his left leg was also severely injured. From then on, he was disabled and could only move around in a wheelchair.

Yet, having survived such a disaster, though his body was crippled, he found another path to immortality.

“Treatise on the Dragon Transformation of Supreme Void Pure Qi.”

Brian Zane exhaled, his gaze unfocused.

In that trance, he recalled the scene from that day.

It was an experience he would never forget.

It was the day he regained hope after his path of cultivation had been cut off.

……

At that time, he was covered in wounds, both legs broken, his whole body stained with blood, and he awoke from unconsciousness.

He grabbed at the withered grass and crawled into a nearby cave.

The cave was dim, and he saw a withered corpse.

The corpse’s robe was ancient and decayed, its skin and muscles completely shriveled, clinging tightly to the bones, looking like black iron.

Around the corpse, there were countless white bones.

Seeing this, Brian Zane couldn’t help but feel a sinking in his heart.

At that moment, the withered corpse suddenly opened its eyes.

Its eyes were dark, with a faint blue gleam within.

Brian Zane was startled, a chill running through his body.

And then, the withered corpse suddenly spoke.

“Young man!”

“You fell here, gravely injured and crippled—an unfortunate fate. Yet to encounter me, that is your great fortune.”

“I have cultivated for over eight hundred years, traveled the world, killed countless people, and collected myriad cultivation methods.”

“Now, I possess a Daoist scripture for longevity, about one hundred and seventy-two volumes.”

“There are also various magical arts and divine abilities, specializing in combat and killing, totaling eight hundred and sixty-four volumes.”

“And there are also miscellaneous esoteric arts: divination, observing celestial phenomena, understanding terrain, reading physiognomy, turning stone to gold, alchemy, and so on.”

The withered corpse’s voice was dry and stiff, incomparably heavy, as he said, “Today, fate has brought us together. I will pass you one volume of scripture. Do you seek the art of longevity, divine abilities, or the various esoteric arts?”

Brian Zane scrutinized him for a moment, but felt no particular emotion. The true teachings of Saints Hill were already the world’s top cultivation methods, and Samuel White’s cultivation was the greatest in the Eastern Continent, yet even that could not restore his path of cultivation.

But just as he was about to speak, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

The true qi lingering in his meridians seemed to sting, as if sensing some danger.

The true qi from Saints Hill was adept at seeking fortune and avoiding misfortune.

What kind of omen was this?

Brian Zane’s gaze sharpened slightly, falling on the white bones nearby.

On many of the bones, there were still remnants of decayed clothing.

From the various traces, it was clear that he was not the only one who had come here.

Moreover, the nearest skeleton had a decayed fragment of clothing that seemed to be a new style of Confucian robe, popular in the Eastern Victory Dynasty only in the past three to five years.

Such a simple choice—pick one of two—how could so many have died?

A thousand thoughts flashed through Brian Zane’s mind in an instant, but with so few clues before him, he still could not discern the other’s intentions. After a moment of silence, he followed his heart and, in accordance with the principles of Saints Hill, slowly spoke.

“My master once said, if one cannot attain immortality, then even if one is invincible in the world, after the passage of years, one will still rot after death, and all will come to nothing.”

“If one attains only immortality, but has no means of self-protection, there is the danger of an early death, left to be bullied by others in the world.”

“Though people may live a hundred years, under the heavens, how many truly die of old age in peace?”

“Most people die from calamity and disaster. If I travel the world in the future, even with the lifespan of an immortal, I would still live in constant fear of being killed—how could that be satisfying?”

“No matter how well I hide or endure, can I really escape endless misfortune?”

“Those who cultivate in this world, practice both the art of longevity and the techniques of self-protection.”

Brian Zane paused, then asked, “May I ask, senior, is there a way in this world to possess both?”

The cave was silent for a long time.

The withered corpse paused, his tone low, and in his dim eyes there was a hint of complexity as he said, “If a person is insatiably greedy, disaster will surely befall them.”

Seeing the look in the other’s eyes, Brian Zane was moved, and replied, “Since you say so, sir, then I will not be greedy. If I give up both, what then? Will you let me leave?”

The withered corpse slowly said, “If you are not greedy, I will kill you!”

Brian Zane couldn’t help but laugh out loud, which pulled at his injured legs, making him tremble in pain. He immediately stopped laughing, his face pale, sweat pouring down like rain.

The withered corpse continued slowly, “If you choose longevity, I will teach you the method to extend your life, but you will be trapped here with me, forever and ever. If you choose the art of combat, I will grant you a spell, let you experience its power, and you will die today. If you are greedy and desire both, in today’s Daoist world, such an impure heart would never achieve greatness. But with me, only then can you comprehend the true meaning of the arts…”

Brian Zane took a couple of breaths, suddenly feeling that the human heart was unpredictable and unfathomable.

This strange man, buried beneath the mountain for who knows how many years, had become a withered corpse, trapped here in solitude.