My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 666 – Divine Dynasty? Demon Dynasty? Tang Nian’s Fate - Part 3

Chapter 666 – Divine Dynasty? Demon Dynasty? Tang Nian’s Fate - Part 3

Early autumn.

Within his residence in the Western Capital, Li Yuan had yet to hear back from the envoy he’d sent north to the Huyan Clan. The man had vanished as if dropped into the sea. No word. No trace. It was as if he’d ceased to exist.

The one sent to the Eastern Sea had similarly gone silent. With the glaciers of the Western Extremes melting, sea levels had surged, swallowing many islands. The old nautical charts were now worthless. And trying to locate an already distant island amid that chaos was near impossible.

Only the team sent west, to investigate the legendary Deathless Tomb, had returned with any kind of report.

But calling it a report might’ve been generous. What they brought back sounded more like legends.

There were stories of a land of the immortal, the Divine Mother, an elixir of eternal life, and a mystical crow who gathered food and served the eternal.

It was all myth and mystery, none of it what Li Yuan was actually looking for.

He thought on it briefly, then understood.

Hearsay about Sheng’er, the Deathless Tomb, and immortality had been passed around many times, whether through the Nine Flames Tribe or the upper circles of the imperial court in the Central Plains. Now it had been woven together into a single grand mythology, one that no longer resembled truth...

He knew that the terrain beyond Cloudpeak Province had changed drastically. Back when Yin and Yang had briefly converged in harmony, the Deathless Tomb had been pushed closer to the Outer Region.

To find it now, an expedition team would have to ride for at least half a year beyond the frontier, and that was under ideal conditions without detours and on level ground.

But today, the Western Extremes had transformed. With the ice melting, it was now a vast, chaotic land, a tangled expanse of tall mountains, deep gorges, and vast grasslands as far as the eye could see.

In terrain like that, hunting for the Deathless Tomb, buried who knew where, was no different than fishing a needle out of the ocean.

And the time it would take? Too long to even measure.

Suddenly, a commotion stirred outside the gate of Li Yuan’s residence.

A carriage rolled to a halt, and the doors creaked open.

From within the study, Li Yuan caught the faint murmur of conversation. Something about a city having fallen. Some Divine General, who after laying eyes on a few stunning women, decided they were fit to serve as maids in the Divine Monarch’s residence and so he sent them over.

Before long, a young maid came running to inquire.

Li Yuan gave a simple reply, “Take them in.”

And just like that, another group of beauties was absorbed into the household.

By this point, Li Yuan’s residence might as well have been a full-fledged harem. Walk a few paces in any direction and you’d come across clusters of elegant women, chatting softly in twos and threes, each one a different flavor of beauty.

After a while, the same maid returned and bowed. “Master, they’ve all been settled in.”

Li Yuan waved a hand. “That’s fine. Tell them there’s no need to be afraid. They’re safe now.”

This particular maid had once been the daughter of a noble family. She was well-bred, educated, and the sort who knew her poetry and etiquette. When she was first captured, she’d completely given up hope. And when she was delivered to the Divine Monarch’s residence, she’d braced herself for humiliation.

But reality had turned out very different from what she imagined.

Lord Yu was indeed as refined as his reputation, gentle as warm jade.

He was surrounded by beauty, yet never laid a finger on any of them. Every coin, every resource given to the residence was spent on the women’s wellbeing, never on himself.

After hearing him speak, watching how he carried himself, most of the women understood what kind of man he truly was.

A man famed across the land...who, against all odds, turned out to be a good person.

For these displaced, helpless women, it was like receiving a blessing from heaven. Gratitude swelled in their hearts. More than a few harbored thoughts of repaying him however they could.

In fact, if Li Yuan were to call on any of them tonight, odds were she’d agree without hesitation.

The little maid watched him quietly return to his book and, unable to hold back, said softly, “The chaos in the world isn’t your fault. You don’t need to blame yourself.”

“...” Li Yuan paused for a second. Was that how they saw him? Some noble, brooding soul who carried the weight of the world?

He didn’t bother to explain, just smiled and gave a small nod.

The maid’s cheeks flushed. Then she continued to chatter, “For lunch, would you still like fish soup? There’s a new shipment of sea fish from the eastern market. Shall I change things up a bit?”

Li Yuan replied, “Whatever you prepare is fine. I’ll eat what everyone eats.”

The maid felt her heart warm inexplicably. The grief of her ruined home, the ache of her wandering days, somehow, in his presence, all of it eased a little.

“Understood,” she muttered, eyes misting slightly as she backed away.

But moments later, she came running again. “Master! A visitor, someone from the Tang Sect of Westgorge, is requesting an audience.”

Ever since Lord Yu’s series of feats, training Divine Generals, securing the Western Capital, killing the Lord of Arms, and slaying the Heavenly Master, the Divine Monarch’s residence had taken permanent root in the Western Capital. And from that point on, martial sects from all corners of the jianghu had come to pay their respects.

Yes, the rebel army was growing more brutal by the day.

But Lord Yu’s reputation remained untarnished. If anything, it shone brighter than ever.

He never turned visitors away. He met them all, shared discussions on war and martial arts, and on occasion, even offered guidance.

There’s no first place in the world of words, but no second place in martial arts. That’s how the saying went. And for those who trained in martial arts, who truly accepted being second to anyone?

Many of the martial sects that came to visit the Divine Monarch’s residence had their own motives. Quite a few hoped to boost their names by being seen alongside Lord Yu.

They arrived with puffed-up chests and fiery eyes, like cocks strutting into battle. But by the time they left, every one of them was full of awe. Some couldn’t stop bowing even after stepping out the gate; a few called out loud thanks to Lord Yu, while others went further, performing the ceremonial bow of a disciple.

Because Lord Yu didn’t just talk theory with them, he sparred with them, exposed flaws in their techniques with just a few words, and helped many of them break through to new levels of mastery.

But if a visitor had a wicked heart, he taught them nothing.

Instead, he would calmly say, “Since you’ve come, I’ll give you the courtesy of two incense sticks’ worth of time. Use it to run.”

Then he’d wait. And once the villain left, he’d inform the rebel army to hunt them down.

And who among the rebels would turn down an order from the Divine Monarch himself?

Not only would they execute the task with glee, they’d usually use it as an excuse to consult Lord Yu afterward, maybe get some advice, maybe even a secret art or two. And those were the kind of lessons that could change a life.

As a result, not one of those evildoers ever got away.

So it was no surprise that now, even the great the Tang Sect of Westgorge had come to pay their respects.

The envoy was none other than the steward of external affairs himself, Tang Fang. Loyal to Madam Bright Moon, he came from one of the Tang Sect’s oldest bloodlines and was descended from a former clan head. A true veteran of the sect.

When Tang Fang arrived, Li Yuan dismissed the maids and looked over.

“What is it?” he asked.

Tang Fang stared at the young man before him, barely able to believe this fresh-faced youth was the legendary Lord Yu. But when he heard the question, he quickly snapped back to attention, bowed deeply, and produced a letter from his sleeve.

“Divine Monarch,” he said respectfully, “my lady has sent this letter, and humbly invites you to visit the Tang Sect in Westgorge. This is her personal message.”

Li Yuan accepted the letter.

Tang Fang stood there with quiet dread. In truth, he didn’t believe Lord Yu would come just because of a handwritten invitation, no matter who had sent it.

Then came the crisp sound of the letter being opened.

Li Yuan unfolded the paper and looked it over. It was blank, except for the signature at the very bottom, two simple characters, Tang Nian.

That name alone meant nothing to the current members of the Tang Sect. After all, ever since the sect’s founding more than 160 years ago, Tang Nian had long since vanished from memory.

But if the recipient of the letter truly had a connection with the Tang Sect...if he understood what Tang Nian meant...then he would rise without a word and make his way to Shu.

And if he didn’t, then it wouldn’t matter. He was never the intended guest to begin with.

Li Yuan stared at the name. In his mind, images came flooding back.

He recalled a little girl, bawling her eyes out as she watched her father die. A teenage girl, locking herself away to study the art of puppetry with single-minded obsession. A fiery woman in a red dress, drunkenly singing wild songs, seductive and dangerous all at once, like a spirit of chaos and wine.

The memories tumbled forward, one after another.

He folded the letter and handed it to a maid, gave a few quiet instructions, then followed Tang Fang westward without hesitation.

To Tang Fang, the whole thing felt like a dream. At the same time, he couldn’t stop wondering what exactly had been written in that letter.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

More than two months passed, and deep autumn returned once more.

The cycles of spring and fall often stirred melancholy in the short-lived creatures of the world, giving rise to verse, to lament, to longing.

But to Li Yuan, it was merely a change in season. Nothing more.

He arrived at the Tang Sect wearing a dull gray cloak and a bronze mask. Step by step, he crossed the swaying chain bridge under the whispering mountain wind, and finally reached the central tower, the very heart of the Tang Sect. There, he met Madam Bright Moon.

Floating above her head was 50~58, not of this era, not of this world.

The room was sparse and silent. The only occupant was a woman in a deep sapphire gown, seated in solemn stillness.

“Where is Tang Nian?” Li Yuan asked directly.

“Where is Li Yuan?” Madam Bright Moon replied.

“He is alive and well.”

“...” Madam Bright Moon fell silent for a moment, then said, “May I ask...could the Primordial Emperor himself come here in person?”

She continued with a softer explanation, “Our lady...she can no longer leave this place. Otherwise, she would have brought me along to visit you herself.”

Li Yuan gazed at her for a long moment. “You’re one of Nian Nian’s puppets, aren’t you?”

“You—?!” Her eyes widened with shock.

But the youth before her calmly continued, “I am Li Yuan.”

Madam Bright Moon was stunned.

Li Yuan added, “I’ve simply bound my strength to this level. Otherwise...I wouldn’t have been able to survive in the new world. If you know anything of Nian Nian, we can verify it together.”

And so they talked.

Like opening an old wound, they spoke at length about Tang Nian, about things only someone truly close to her could have known. Secrets never written down, never told. Only remembered.

By the end, Madam Bright Moon stared at Li Yuan in shock and awe.

Few knew better than she what had happened 60 years ago when Heaven and Earth changed.

She had watched with her own eyes as one powerful being after another withered and died in agony.

When the spiritual energy drained from the world, the instant mortality returned to balance, those who had lived beyond their natural lifespan crumbled, some into withered husks, some into dust.

Without exception, they perished.

She turned and led Li Yuan down the stairs of the central tower.

Most knew that the chain bridges reached up to the ninth floor of the Tang Sect’s core tower, and most assumed that was the highest point. They were wrong.

What lay beneath the ninth floor? Almost no one knew.

And it was there that the Grand Matron of the Tang Sect once resided.

As they descended, Madam Bright Moon spoke in halting fragments.

“Back then...our lady believed you had died. She carried your remains to a hidden chamber in a remote town, intending to build a new puppet...one that merged your bones with the Daemonheart. She believed...your soul still lingered in your bones. That if she nurtured them properly, she could bring you back.

“But then the cold swept in. She was so obsessed with her carving, with creating something truly unmatched... she didn’t flee in time. She, and all her puppets, were frozen in the snow and ice. And by the time the world thawed... Our lady was already gone.”

Li Yuan said nothing, but behind the mask, his eyes were no longer calm. Tang Nian... He still remembered her as a child, crying her eyes out as she clutched her father's lifeless body.

He remembered her as the silent girl who locked herself away with her puppets, her hands always stained with ink and oil, her eyes red from sleepless nights.

He remembered the red-clad rebel with wine on her breath and fire in her soul, dancing alone under the moonlight, laughing like a ghost that refused to fade.

And now...she was gone, gone trying to bring him back.

He had once taught her to believe in herself.

She, in turn, had believed in him to the bitter end.

They reached the bottom floor at last.

The cold was still there. Faint, but unmistakable. A lingering chill that had never fully left the stone.

The door before them was sealed shut, its surface carved with the Tang Sect’s runes that pulsed faintly in the gloom.

“She’s inside,” Madam Bright Moon said. “Still frozen, along with everything she made.”

Li Yuan stepped forward and placed a hand on the door.

And for the first time in decades, he felt something stir, faint, familiar, and fragile.

It was a presence, not quite alive, not quite dead, but waiting.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Wait for me. I’m here now.”