Chapter Eighty-One: I Thought You Were Immortal

The woods were silent, so silent that even the whisper of the wind could be heard. The young man in white continued to drink with Su Fan, one cup after another.

Su Fan, too, drank in silence. The wine was very weak, with almost no fragrance of alcohol at all, the same as what he had tasted from the old man, the same as the wine drawn from the vat carried out by the steward.

At last Su Fan could no longer hold back. He asked, "Are you the Drunken Immortal?"

The young man in white gave no denial. He remained silent. Could it be that he simply did not wish to speak to Su Fan?

Su Fan had no choice but to keep drinking. There was no road ahead of him now; if the Drunken Immortal was willing to see him, then this young man must be the one. If he was unwilling, then there would be no chance at all.

"The Drunken Immortal only meets those who please his eye."

The young man in white suddenly let out this sentence. It came all at once, and it was terrifying, because his voice was cold, like a messenger from the netherworld.

How could a cultivator be frightened by something ghostly? And yet that voice truly shocked Su Fan to the core.

Carefully, Su Fan asked, "May this junior have the honor of pleasing the Drunken Immortal senior's eye?"

The young man in white lifted his head slightly. His expression remained ice-cold, though the tone of his voice softened a little as he said, "If you had not pleased the Drunken Immortal's eye, how could you see me?"

Su Fan froze. Though he had long suspected the young man in white was the legendary Drunken Immortal, he was still struck with great alarm. His mouth hung open, round and speechless, as though he did not know what he wished to say.

The young man in white said again, "Such composure is rare in a cultivator."

Such a talent for mocking others was equally rare, and a cultivator truly should not have shown such a dramatic change of expression.

Su Fan gave a forced laugh. "Senior, are you an immortal?"

The gaze of the young man in white turned even colder. He looked straight into the far distance, as though he could see scenes ten thousand miles away.

Only after a long while did he say, "An immortal? Indeed, a realm everyone seeks to reach." These words did not sound like an answer to Su Fan's question; rather, they seemed to be spoken to himself.

Su Fan was dumbstruck, unable to make sense of it.

After another long silence, the young man in white finally said, "The Drunken Immortal is not an immortal, merely a little stronger than ordinary people."

Su Fan mused, "A little stronger?"

The young man in white said calmly, "Only aging a little more slowly, that's all."

"Aging a little more slowly."

These words seemed exceedingly ordinary, yet they sounded anything but ordinary to Su Fan. For a mortal perhaps they would not matter, but for a cultivator like Su Fan, especially one who knew a great deal, those words shone with blinding brilliance.

Aging more slowly meant he was a cultivator. And not just any cultivator, but an extraordinarily powerful one, at least at the level of Nascent Soul or above.

Even the heads of the seven sects could not do such a thing; they could only preserve their youthful appearance through pills or techniques.

Su Fan suppressed the excitement in his heart. He had never seen a cultivator above Nascent Soul.

Naturally, he had not come only for the wine. More than that, he had come to discover which immortal had fallen in Fallen Immortal City.

After searching the entire city, there was only one immortal to be found: the Drunken Immortal. Then there was only one immortal who might be the one that had fallen.

Su Fan bowed deeply to the ground in an immense salute. After a moment, he said respectfully, "Senior's cultivation has reached the highest heights. May I ask whether you can bring the dead back to life?"

The young man in white gave a slight start. Clearly, the question was extremely rude and ignorant.

Yet unexpectedly, he did not mock Su Fan. Instead, he helped Su Fan to his feet and asked, "Who is it?"

Su Fan said cautiously, "This junior's parents."

This time the young man in white answered quickly, almost without thinking. "If they are mortals, then there is no hope."

Su Fan lowered his head once more, very deeply. Even though he had long known this would be the outcome, and even though resurrection was never so easy, this person whose cultivation exceeded even the heads of the seven sects had truly given him hope again.

Once more Su Fan pleaded, as though by habit, beseeching the young man in white: "Even with your cultivation at the Heart-Transformation realm, senior, there is still not the slightest hope?"

The young man in white paused and looked at Su Fan with curiosity. "You know of the Heart-Transformation realm?"

Su Fan did not know why the Drunken Immortal would ask this, so he only nodded slightly.

In truth, the names of realms in cultivation were not some great secret, though that was only true for realms below Nascent Soul.

Beyond Nascent Soul there were still more realms. The path of cultivation had hundreds and thousands of branches. The power of heaven and earth that Su Fan cultivated was one such path.

So too was the demonic flame and slaughter path cultivated by the immortal-demons. The common point was the same: all were long roads without boundary.

The young man in white nodded lightly, silently studying Su Fan, perhaps wondering how such a seemingly bold and imposing man could still be unable to let go of his parents.

But how could he know Su Fan's experiences? Without knowing them, how could he understand his actions?

So the young man in white asked no more. His tongue, sparing with words, only said in a low voice four words: "You have a task."

Su Fan suddenly stood up and looked around. His expression turned somewhat enlightened. He clasped his hands anxiously toward the young man in white and asked, "May this junior know when I may see you again, senior?"

The young man in white lowered his head, toying with the wine cup in his hand as he said, "It depends."

Those three simple words blocked Su Fan's countless words. He stood there in silence for a very long while, and in the end he retraced his steps and went to seek out his task.

The young man in white was still playing with the wine cup. His gaze drifted faintly toward the lonely figure receding into the distance, and he let out a low sigh.

The moment Su Fan disappeared from sight, a figure in purple emerged from behind the woods.

The purple figure stood beside the young man in white, looking somewhat restrained. As though struggling for a long time, he finally asked, "Sir, is there really no way?"

The young man in white said coldly, "I am not an immortal. Even if I were, what then? Immortals cannot..." As if realizing there was something wrong in his words, he abruptly stopped speaking.

The purple figure's brows knitted into a pained knot. "But Su Fan he..."

"I am not interested in him." The young man in white cut off what he was about to say with a frosty voice.

The purple figure said awkwardly, "But I only have this one disciple."

The young man in white said impatiently, "Did you not say the same thing about the last one?"

The purple figure looked deeply dispirited. "But you did not save Purple Cloud."

The young man in white glared at him and said, "You blame me?"

The purple figure replied respectfully, "This junior would not dare. It is only that sir..."

He hesitated, perhaps trying to recall what manner of person this Purple Cloud had been, or perhaps too lazy to answer further. Even so, the sight of his expression had already left the purple figure too shocked to speak.

After a long silence, the young man in white said again, "I cannot save mortals."

The purple figure said softly, "Then at the very least, you should save Su Fan."

A trace of anger appeared on the young man's white face. "Why should I save him?"

The purple figure said, "Because you admire him, sir. Those you do not admire, you would not even see if they were immortals. Much less if it were only I coming to beg you."