# Chapter 2616: New Year's Eve, Some Joyful, Some Sorrowful
A harem of three thousand beauties—how many people's dream. Yet, Mingjiang Wang was utterly miserable. For the sake of the clan's development and prosperity, a dignified Great Saint and sect master had sacrificed far too much.
Before long, Zhang Shaochu arrived, looking decrepit and aged, also crying and complaining bitterly to Zhang Ruochen.
"Ninth Brother, your fourth brother's life is ruined, completely ruined by that old immortal."
"At first, I refused too, but he reasoned with me—for three whole months. I couldn't sleep; I had to listen to him reason. Three months without closing my eyes, three full months."
"Later, he used every despicable trick imaginable. First, he put a blade to my throat and threatened me. When he saw I'd rather die than submit, he actually drugged me."
Zhang Shaochu grabbed Zhang Ruochen's hands, tears streaming down his aged face, crying so hard the sky went dark, spittle flying everywhere.
"Ninth Brother, do you know how I've lived through this thousand years?"
Saying this, Zhang Shaochu stood up and called in the wives waiting outside, making them bow to Zhang Ruochen one by one.
After one round, half an hour had passed.
"All of you, withdraw!" Zhang Shaochu waved them away.
Zhang Ruochen fell silent. If he hadn't seen Zhang Shaochu still wiping tears, he would have suspected the man was showing off.
Mingjiang Wang, once an iron-boned and majestic Saint Dao hero, now felt empathetic hearing Zhang Shaochu's lament. His eyes reddened, fists clenched. "My lifelong reputation is utterly destroyed! It's like being in hell, muddled and dazed."
"That old fellow has become quite a menace." Zhang Ruochen said coldly.
A thousand years ago, when the Hundred Flowers Fairy visited Wangshan, that old bastard had drugged her with a sinister potion. Fortunately, Zhang Ruochen and she had exercised restraint, preventing a major disaster.
If they had succumbed to the drug and coupled back then, Zhang Ruochen and Ji Fanxin would surely have fallen out, never becoming close confidants.
Zhang Ruochen asked, "What about those women? How many were victimized by him?"
"That's not the case."
Mingjiang Wang straightened his robes, showing a confident side. "With your twelfth imperial uncle's appearance and bearing, just post a notice, and women wanting to marry into the Zhang Clan could line up from Ming Sect's mountain gate all the way to Luo River's banks."
Zhang Shaochu, not to be outdone, puffed out his aged chest. "I am a commandery prince of Yunwu Commandery and a Saint. Countless women would want to be my princess consort."
Zhang Ruochen nodded. "Where is that old fellow now?"
Mingjiang Wang wanted to warn Zhang Ruochen to flee, but thought—if Zhang Ruochen escaped, wouldn't he have to continue this dark, hellish existence?
"Deep in Wangshan, guarding the cemetery."
Then Mingjiang Wang added, "That old bastard is hateful, but he is indeed an unfathomable existence. His mastery of various Dao techniques is exquisite, and he excels at medicine-making and alchemy. That Ming Sect could produce so many Saints, Saint Kings, and Great Saints, rising in just a thousand years to become a top power in Kunlun Realm—he deserves credit for that."
Bao Lie and Murong Fengye, sitting nearby, nodded slightly in agreement.
Then Zhang Ruochen asked about his ninth sister, Zhang Yuxi.
Zhang Shaochu sighed. "Ninth Sister couldn't reach the Saint realm. Although I often shared life-extending medicine with her, she still passed away five hundred years ago."
"I should have died too. It's all that old fellow's doing—forcibly elevating me to the Saint realm and constantly extending my life. He told me that as long as I could still produce offspring, he could keep me alive."
At this point, Zhang Shaochu burst into tears again, feeling he lived too humbly, without dignity.
Zhang Ruochen fell silent, his heart aching.
He recalled how, back then, the Ninth Commandery Princess was the only royal clan member close to him. How vibrant and youthful she had been then—he remembered her joyfully kissing his cheek.
That was the purest, most sincere sibling affection.
Life is bitter, parting is sorrow.
"When people die, nothing remains."
Zhang Ruochen sighed deeply, gazing at the dissipating calamity clouds in the distant sky. "Enlightened monks can reincarnate and gain new life. Why can't ordinary people? If I can become a great cultivator in the future, I will build a cycle of reincarnation, protect their souls, and give all living beings in the world a chance at rebirth."
Murong Fengye asked, "Do you think there is immortality in this world?"
Immortality—a topic that has persisted through the ages.
Unfortunately, no one has ever truly achieved immortality. Over time, fewer cultivators pursued or researched it. The Divine realm became the height every living being hoped to reach in their lifetime.
Because gods can live for one eon.
Zhang Ruochen said, "In Hell Realm, there are legends of immortality, but their truth cannot be verified."
Murong Yue, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "Plant-type beings can live for very long periods. But once they practice combat techniques and get involved in killing, the Eon Calamity will erase them. Ferocious plants actually don't live as long as humans."
"Let's not discuss these intangible things. Come, today is New Year's Eve—everyone should be happy. Since there's a grand feast, tonight we drink until we're drunk." Zhang Ruochen was the first to smile, saying this.
Zhang Ruochen's identity couldn't be exposed, so the New Year's Eve feast could only be held in Mingjiang Wang's sect master residence.
The Azure Heaven Sacred Dragon, who had taken human form; Qin Yutong, who had reached the Great Saint realm after tribulation; and Ming Emperor's third disciple Hongya, Chen Daogu, and Lu Yuanzhi, who had returned from the Saint Altar, all joined the banquet.
Zhang Ruochen asked about the Devouring Elephant Rabbit Guoguo and the Demon Ape, and was told they had been caught by that old bastard to guard the cemetery.
At the feast, the conversation turned again to immortality.
This topic was initiated by Zhang Ruochen, because he was curious about the Bihuo Dao practiced by Hongya, Chen Daogu, and Lu Yuanzhi.
Dead Saint realm cultivators could actually cultivate using only their Saint Soul, essentially living a second life.
Hongya said, "Little Junior Brother, it's not that simple. To cultivate the Bihuo Dao and become a Scattered Saint, first the Saint Soul must have no deficiencies. But think about it—Saint realm cultivators who die unnatural deaths, even if their souls don't scatter completely, their Saint Souls will have some damage."
"Second, even though Saint realm cultivators have strong soul power, once their physical body dies, the consciousness and memories contained in the Saint Soul dissipate quickly, leaving no time to cultivate the Bihuo Dao."
"We managed because after our physical bodies died, our Saint Souls were instantly drawn to the Saint Altar. The Saint Altar's power can preserve our consciousness and memories for a long time, buying us time to switch to cultivating the Bihuo Dao."
"So the Saint Altar is the key." Zhang Ruochen said.
Lu Yuanzhi laughed. "A treasure forged using the entire treasury of the Holy Bright Central Empire—how could it not be formidable?"
Hongya added, "Scattered Saints are actually very similar to ghost cultivators. When breaking through realms, they also undergo tribulations. Similar to ghost tribulations, they must pass seven Scattered Saint Tribulations to reach the Great Saint level. If they fail a tribulation, they will surely scatter into nothingness."
"The difference between Scattered Saints and ghost cultivators is that they can retain their previous life's consciousness and memories."
Zhang Ruochen asked, "Were the Saint Altar's blueprints and the Scattered Saint cultivation techniques both given to you by Father?"
"That's right." Lu Yuanzhi said.
Zhang Ruochen found it puzzling. "How did he come to possess these two things?"
The Bihuo Dao was created by Bihuozi, a great god of the medieval Kunlun Realm. How did it end up in Ming Emperor's hands?
The Saint Altar's design blueprints certainly couldn't have been drawn by a mere Great Saint.
Lu Yuanzhi spread his hands. "Senior Brother I was only responsible for construction. Where Master obtained them, only he would know."
"Could you give me a copy of the Bihuo Dao cultivation method and the Saint Altar's blueprints?" Zhang Ruochen asked.
Lu Yuanzhi said, "That's certainly no problem."
This New Year's Eve was extremely lively. Everyone drank and chatted freely, discussing heaven and earth.
Later, Zhang Shaochu brought over a dozen of his children with the highest talent, making them toast Zhang Ruochen one by one, each calling him "Uncle."
As an uncle, how could he not give some gifts?
Unfortunately, over the past thousand years, the various treasures Zhang Ruochen carried had either been refined by the Abyssal Ancient Sword or absorbed by the Devouring Saint Flower. He felt poor again.
He couldn't very well give each one an Eon Sacred Medicine, could he?
Having no other choice, Zhang Ruochen brought Shang Xia and Shang Yue out from the Qiankun Realm.
One was a Primordial Fire Spirit, the other a Primordial Water Spirit, both having reached the Demigod realm.
Zhang Ruochen ordered them to wash and refine the marrow and bodies of those dozen or so nephews and nieces, improving their cultivation physiques.
Seeing this, Mingjiang Wang's expression shifted uncertainly. He immediately left the table.
A moment later, he brought over a hundred of his children to toast Zhang Ruochen as well.
Qin Yutong watched this scene. Her joy at breaking through to Great Saint dimmed considerably, realizing she was still far behind.
After all, His Highness's two maidservants were both Demigods.
That night, Zhang Ruochen didn't know how many cups he drank. His mood was joyful, feeling an openness as if all knots in his heart had been untied.
This New Year's Eve would be unforgettable.
The next day, sobering up, Zhang Ruochen went to pay respects at his ninth sister's grave, then went to see Lin Lingshan.
Although they had many unpleasant experiences in their youth, Zhang Ruochen had long since let them go. In his mother's later years, it was thanks to having this Lin Clan relative by her side that she didn't walk her final path so alone.
Lin Lingshan hid in her cultivation cave, refusing to see Zhang Ruochen.
But Zhang Ruochen could see, through the stone door, the aged figure standing behind it. Finally, he left behind the words, "Cousin, take care," and turned away.
Only after Zhang Ruochen had gone far did Lin Lingshan, leaning on her cane, hobble over to sit before a bronze mirror in the cave.
She looked at her extremely aged face in the mirror, her hair completely white. With trembling hands, she searched around until she found a comb.
She didn't know how many years it had been since she last combed her hair. No longer black, no longer beautiful, never to return to how she once was.
"If there is a next life..."
Only hoarse sobbing remained in the cave.
Since ancient times, beauties are like famous generals—the world cannot bear to see them grow old.