Immortal Travel of Longevity-Chapter 135: All Lands Taken, Great Jing Perishes

“It’s good that I saw it… good that I saw it…”
Liu Huaizhang was utterly satisfied now.
To use his own death to show the Emperor what a loyal minister looked like — that was what he had set out to do.
He let out a long breath and said, “I, Liu Huaizhang, possess modest talent and shallow learning. Though I held only the fifth rank, I was once granted an audience with the Emperor — a tremendous honor for me. In decades of serving as an official, I earned both praise and scorn. Common folk respected me, while those in the Imperial Court despised me. But no matter what, I only ever sought peace for my country and its people. As an official, one must serve the state and its citizens. All I ever wanted was a clear conscience.”
Chen Changsheng watched him. In that moment, he faintly understood why some deaths held the weight of mountains.
Liu Huaizhang had shown what it meant to follow the ‘way of an official’.
It was his principle, his chosen path for serving this dynasty.
He was making a statement — for the Emperor high in his halls, for the ministers in their court, for the countless masses of the empire.
He wanted them to truly see what it meant to be an official!
Chen Changsheng said nothing more. He raised his teacup and drank it dry.
Though it was only tea, he felt strangely intoxicated.
…
On the second day after Liu Huaizhang’s passing, the authorities announced his death.
While collecting the belongings of this fifth-rank official, they found only a few items: a few sets of old clothes mended with patches, and a single tael of silver.
That silver tael was a parting gift from his teacher twenty years prior when Liu Huaizhang first took office as the Magistrate of Shangjing County.
A few old clothes, one tael of silver — this was the entire estate of a fifth-rank official.
On the day of the funeral, countless citizens of Shangjing City gathered along the streets. They watched his coffin pass by. Then they followed it. From dozens at first, they grew to hundreds, then thousands…
All of Shangjing City mourned the passing of this official.
That day, tears rained down on Shangjing. The young woman selling date cakes by the street, the waiter from the Teahouse, the Butcher, even the beggar on the corner — tens of thousands of faces trailed behind the funeral procession, escorting the departed lord.
Many officials from the Imperial Court also came. They remained silent from start to finish, watching the coffin lowered into the earth without a word.
As ministers themselves, they knew they could never match Liu Huaizhang’s honesty and integrity. Neither could they ever dream of receiving such a farewell from countless people.
His death showed the world what it meant to be an official. At the same time, it was a stark warning to the chaotic times and to the foolish Emperor occupying the Imperial Court.
The patched clothes and the lone tael of silver were buried with him beneath the earth.
Covered by soil, they formed a small mound.
For days afterwards, the incense before his grave never ceased. Offerings piled before the tomb — a bowl of tea, several neatly folded outfits, even silver taels. Yet this silver lay untouched; no one took it.
Chen Changsheng sought out Zhong Zhengyuan specifically to borrow some money.
With the borrowed silver, he bought a gourd of liquor in the Civic District and brought it to Liu Huaizhang’s grave.
He poured every drop from the gourd onto the mound before the grave, saving none for himself.
“Taste this,” Chen Changsheng said softly. Then he fell silent.
Xian Yue stood behind Chen Changsheng, gazing at the assortment of items placed before the tombstone, her heart also heavy.
“Sir,” Xian Yue asked. “Lord Liu… his name should be remembered in history, right?”
Chen Changsheng nodded. “It will be.”
The name ‘Liu Huaizhang’ would be etched into people’s memory. History books would record him with deep reverence.
Sadly, he never knew whether his memorial was heeded. But even so, he departed the mortal world content.
His death was a plan he orchestrated himself, flawlessly executed.
After wrestling with himself for a long time, he had finally found peace.
…
Under pressure from the Northern Frontier, Emperor Jing finally heeded his ministers’ advice — he moved his court south, to Jing Nan.
This news spread rapidly through Shangjing City. Thousands hurriedly packed their belongings and fled.
Chen Changsheng stood atop the City Tower.
He watched the bustling Shangjing City transform into an empty husk within a day. Only the soldiers remained, guarding the deserted streets, waiting for war’s arrival.
The dynasty that had stood for centuries would perish amidst the flames of this impending war.
The Old Sword Cultivator stood with his hands behind his back. The winds atop the tower tousled his messy hair. He sighed deeply. “A blink later… and the place is empty.”
“Planning to leave?” Chen Changsheng asked.
The Old Sword Cultivator nodded. “This time, heading south. Crossing the seas by Sword Flight to see other lands.”
Chen Changsheng gave a slight nod. “Seeing the world is good.”
The Old Sword Cultivator glanced at Chen Changsheng. “I should offer you some counsel. Matters of the Mortal World unsettle the heart. Do not cling to them too long. If fate ties your Dao Heart in knots, how can you ever attain immortality and discuss profound truths?”
Chen Changsheng paused at his words, then asked, “Walking the Mortal World… isn’t it precisely for the sake of fate?”
He chuckled softly and continued, “I’ve always felt matters hinge on human will, nothing to do with mere ‘fate’. Yet sometimes, I feel confused… and this word ‘fate’, it truly seems inscrutable.”
The Old Sword Cultivator fell silent.
He knew Chen Changsheng wouldn’t be swayed, so he said nothing further.
He could only feel regret. Among all the Cultivators he had met, Chen Changsheng was the one closest to the Path of Immortality.
And yet, simultaneously, the farthest from it.
The Old Sword Cultivator sighed. “The mountains are high, the roads long. We shall meet again only if fate allows.”
Chen Changsheng offered a faint wave, urging him to go.
Saying nothing more, the Old Sword Cultivator simply nodded before leaping off the City Tower and heading south. He didn’t know his final destination, only that the road itself was his purpose.
Shangjing City was utterly empty now.
The oppressive Imperial Palace, the wildly vibrant Shangjing City — deserted overnight.
Chen Changsheng walked into the Imperial Palace.
The eunuch guarding the Library Pavilion was also gone, but the books within remained.
Chen Changsheng ascended to the third level of the Library Pavilion.
He found the scrolls recording history and traced through them briefly.
They chronicled Great Jing’s entire history, from its founding to the present era. Several newly compiled volumes had even just been added.
Chen Changsheng raised a hand. A gentle breeze stirred the pages of the history books.
With a mere turn, countless seasons seemed to shift.
The characters on the pages seemed to shimmer, morphing. The words ‘Liu Huaizhang’ gradually appeared within the historical record. Missing details seamlessly filled themselves in.
Where his story ended, the year of his death was inscribed.
And it didn’t stop there.
At the very end of the historical record, a new entry appeared.
The characters forming the words came into focus:
[Year Tian Shun 31, Moon 6, Day 7: Emperor Jing moved court to Jing Nan; officials followed. Shangjing became an empty city overnight. The signs of defeat were clear.]
[Same year, Moon 6, Day 11: Northern Jing defenses collapsed. Armies from the Northern Desert and Beixiang pushed straight into Shangjing. After breaching Yang Chun Pass, they occupied the Great Jing Imperial Palace.]
[Year Tian Shun 32, Moon 9, Day 28, Frost Fall: Beixiang forces pursued southward. They set fire to Anqing. Emperor Jing perished in the great fire. The curtain fell.]
[Beixiang had completely taken over its lands. Great Jing thus perished.]
Chen Changsheng glanced over it, then closed the history book, returning it among the stacks of scrolls.
“The fire burns the grass and trees, and the new replaces the old. Peaceful days will come, eventually.”
Chen Changsheng released a long sigh and walked down from the Pavilion Terrace.
As he departed, he stepped into yet another Great Dream.