Chapter 16

"Gu Fei, where have you been these past few days?" The man in the green robe was none other than Mo Songxuan, the manager of Hualin Pavilion. Upon seeing Gu Fei, he stood up from behind his desk, somewhat out of the ordinary.

"Greetings, Uncle Master Mo!" Gu Fei hurriedly stepped forward and bowed to Mo Songxuan.

"Ah! Gu Fei, your master came out of seclusion two days ago." Mo Songxuan's expression was somewhat sorrowful, which made Gu Fei's heart stir, causing him to feel a vague sense of unease.

"My master has come out of seclusion, I'll go see him right away!" Gu Fei quickly turned and was about to rush out of Hualin Pavilion. However, Mo Songxuan called him back from behind.

"Gu Fei, your master has indeed come out of seclusion, but..." Mo Songxuan hesitated.

Gu Fei quickly turned around again, looking at Mo Songxuan. The unease in his heart grew stronger. He asked, "Uncle Master Mo, has something happened to my master? Please tell me quickly!"

Mo Songxuan's hesitation made Gu Fei's heart race, and his palms were sweating from nervousness.

"Gu Fei, you need to be prepared!" Mo Songxuan paused for a moment, then said these words, his gaze filled with a hint of pity.

"Could it be..." Gu Fei's heart was shaken, and his body swayed, taking a step back. He asked in a trembling voice, "Could it be that my master..."

Mo Songxuan, without speaking, nodded solemnly.

This action almost made Gu Fei collapse. He felt as if the world before his eyes had crumbled, and his head was struck by a thunderbolt from the heavens, leaving him disoriented.

Tears streamed down his face, and the kind face of his master appeared in his mind. But now, they were separated by the boundary between the living and the dead. Before his master entered seclusion, Gu Fei had already sensed that this was his master's last chance.

His master was over 150 years old, and his time could come at any moment. But when his master truly passed away, he could not accept it. For Gu Fei, Wanshen Cheng was more than just a master.

"Gu Fei, you must accept this and move on!" Mo Songxuan, seeing Gu Fei's face contorted with grief upon learning of his master's death, could not help but offer comfort.

The Dao cultivators often viewed life and death very lightly, especially those with profound Daoist arts, who were even more indifferent to life and death. However, Gu Fei was not a Dao cultivator; he was a martial practitioner.

He had emotions, and they were rich. Cultivating martial arts was essentially cultivating humanity, and the path of martial arts was also the path of humanity, encompassing the seven emotions and six desires, which were inherent in human nature.

Since these were part of human nature, they should not be discarded. Therefore, Gu Fei did not and did not need to hide his inner feelings, allowing his grief to be fully expressed.

"Uncle Master Mo! When did this happen?" Gu Fei let his tears blur his vision and did not reach out to wipe them away. He asked Mo Songxuan in a sorrowful voice.

"Your master passed away last night. He was very concerned about you and wanted to see you, but..." Mo Songxuan said with a sigh. Although Wanshen Cheng was not his direct master, they had a good relationship.

Mo Songxuan was a Dao cultivator, and Dao cultivators emphasized discarding the seven emotions and six desires. Even though Wanshen Cheng was his senior, if he could not cultivate to the realm of immortals, he would still die. Mo Songxuan did not appear too sad.

Dao cultivators believed in understanding the Dao of nature, where life and death, prosperity and decline, were part of the natural cycle. They accepted these as natural.

"Master... I am an unfilial disciple!" Gu Fei looked up to the sky and wailed, tears streaming down his face. His appearance drew surprised looks from the surrounding disciples.

"This is what your master asked me to give you!" At this moment, Mo Songxuan pulled out a package and a purple rod with ancient patterns from under the table.

Gu Fei, trying to hold back his grief, reached out with tears in his eyes to take the package and the rod. The rod seemed neither wood nor iron, and it was unknown what material it was made of. It looked somewhat like a sword hilt and felt heavy in his hand.

According to Wanshen Cheng, this rod, which resembled a short stick, was obtained by their lineage's ancestor along with an ancient cultivation technique. It was likely an extraordinary item.

However, after several generations of their lineage had studied it, they could not find anything extraordinary about the purple short rod. It appeared to be an unremarkable object.

"Uncle Master, where is my master buried? I want to pay my respects." Gu Fei asked in a deep voice, his voice filled with sorrow.

Wanshen Cheng and Gu Fei, though master and disciple, were like father and son. Not seeing his master one last time, Gu Fei felt an immense regret. Besides grief, he also felt a deep sense of guilt.

"Your master is buried in the cemetery within the sect. You will see it when you enter the cemetery." Mo Songxuan replied.

As soon as Mo Songxuan finished speaking, Gu Fei rushed out of Hualin Pavilion. Mo Songxuan seemed to want to say something more but did not call Gu Fei back.

On the back mountain of Tai Xuan Sect, halfway up the mountain, there was a special place. It was covered with green grass and fragrant flowers. If not for the rows of tombstones, it could be mistaken for a garden.

This place was the cemetery of Tai Xuan Sect, where generations of disciples were buried. Not everyone could cultivate to the realm of immortals; when their time came, they would return to the cycle of rebirth, turning into a pile of yellow earth.

The entire cemetery was silent, without a sound.

In an inconspicuous corner of the cemetery, a figure stood motionless before a low, simple grave. It was Gu Fei.

He stood there, from morning to noon, and from noon to evening. The setting sun, like blood, cast a red glow over the mountains, dyeing them red. It was another sunset, and the afterglow of the setting sun made the cemetery appear solemn and somewhat eerie.

The low, simple grave was unremarkable, very rudimentary. It had only a tombstone, no flowers, and a simple mound of new earth.

Who can escape death? Whether you are a person of extraordinary talent or an ordinary person, in the end, you are just a pile of yellow earth, with no difference. When a person dies, it is like a lamp being extinguished. Who would remember, and who would think of the existence of such a person in this world?

The essence of cultivation is to defy heaven, whether it is martial cultivation or Dao cultivation, it is a struggle against fate. Success brings longevity, failure means disappearing from the world, everything dissipating.

Although Dao cultivators claim to follow the will of heaven, in doing so, they are also breaking through the will of heaven.

Gu Fei's master, Wanshen Cheng, in his last seclusion, did not take that final step, unable to escape his fate. When the time came, he had to pass away. This is the great law of the universe, and no one can transcend it.