The Dynasty of Cultivating Immortality

C2 – I Just Want to Live Well

Was it his uncle at the door?

No, the knock was neither forceful nor gentle, neither hurried nor leisurely. This wasn’t like his uncle’s approach at all.

Ni Huibo remembered his uncle as a stern, uncompromising, and somewhat brutish man. His uncle would typically barge in without knocking. He was always exceedingly strict with Ni Huibo. Aside from living in a slightly larger space, the provisions he received from his uncle were inferior to those of a servant. Of course, Ni Huibo had never experienced the privileges due to a member of the Ni family bloodline. Over the years, he had grown accustomed to this and harbored no resentment.

Yet, there were things that puzzled him. Why was he the only one in the Ni family confined to his courtyard, forbidden from stepping out on his own? Where were his parents? He had heard they died, but how? Where did they die? And why couldn’t he visit their graves?

He never received answers to these questions; no one in the Ni family would discuss such matters with him. As a result, Ni Huibo became reticent, preferring to immerse himself in his own world of books or daydreams.

His room was filled with many old books, gifts from his aunt last year. His aunt, Ni Ruiyuan, would arrive punctually every year. Each visit, she brought a stack of books and instructed him on which one to start with. Upon her departure, she would collect the old books from the previous year.

This ritual had continued for nearly a decade. Yet, it wasn’t time for the annual exchange of books. He had only carefully read through the books twice in the last six months and still couldn’t recall many details. He needed to read them a few more times. So, what brought his aunt here now?

He dried his hands and opened the door to find Ni Ruiyuan indeed standing there.

He greeted her respectfully.

“Let’s talk inside.”Fôll0w current novÊls o/n n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(c/o/m)

Ni Ruiyuan quickly entered and beckoned Ni Huibo to come to her. She looked at him intently and asked, “Do you want to leave?”

“Leave?”

Ni Huibo was momentarily taken aback. Where would he go if he left? Was he to leave the house or the Ni family altogether? Was it to be a temporary departure or a permanent one, never to see them again?

“You must never return to the Ni family once you leave.”

Ni Ruiyuan spoke with a gravity that Ni Huibo had never sensed from her before. He pondered the reason.

“You want to know how your parents died, don’t you? And you’re curious why the entire Ni family treats you the way they do, correct?”

“Yes.” Ni Huibo reflected seriously, as if he had come to an understanding. He then added, “But it’s okay if I don’t know. I have no desire for revenge. The books say that if a person seeks vengeance, waiting ten years is not too late. But they also say, if people continue to retaliate against each other, when will it ever end?”

Ni Ruiyuan was taken aback.

Was this the mindset expected of a sixteen-year-old? Or was it that he lacked any concept or feeling for his parents? Was it that he harbored no thoughts of revenge, or was he deliberately speaking such words?

In a flash, Ni Ruiyuan considered many possibilities. It was only when she gazed into the youth’s bright, profound, and earnest eyes that she realized how mistaken she was.

He was merely an innocent young man, a blank slate. Unexposed to the world, he was unaware of the depths of human cruelty. Could it be that he was incapable of harboring such sinister thoughts? His words must surely reflect his true feelings.

“Do you then wish to step out of this yard, to leave the Ni family behind?” Ni Ruiyuan repeated her earlier question, this time with utmost care, fearing that a loud voice might startle him.

“I do not.”

Ni Huibo’s response surprised Ni Ruiyuan once again.

“Why not?”

“Because I want to live.” He paused, perhaps content with his present circumstances. A smile slowly formed on his face as he said, “I want to live just as I am now.”

Croburg was a tiny nation on this vast continent. Croburg was the ant among the Central Plains’ elephants. With so many cultivators already here, one could only wonder how many there were in the larger Central Plains.

This was beyond the imagination of ordinary people and even cultivators like Ni Ruiyuan in such a small country. Could an unarmed mortal, venturing into a world he had never encountered in sixteen years, survive safely?

He likely couldn’t.

Ni Ruiyuan was acutely aware of the harshness of the cultivation world, and she understood all too well how cultivators viewed ordinary people as beneath them. At times, the law only targeted the weak. For instance, in any dispute between cultivators and common folk, the authorities would invariably favor the cultivators. Even if a cultivator killed an ordinary person, under the laws of Croburg, it was hardly considered a crime.

Her anxiety had clouded her judgment, and she hadn’t considered these facts.

“What is it that you want?” Ni Ruiyuan inquired once more.

“I want to cultivate!” Ni Huibo declared, his usually placid eyes now sparkling with intensity. He recalled the flying cultivators from the stories he’d read, and his gaze intensified with fervor. “Aunt, can you teach me how to cultivate?”

“No!” Ni Ruiyuan replied resolutely, shaking her head.

Ni Huibo was puzzled but didn’t question her. Given Ni Ruiyuan’s affection for him, she would have instructed him already if it were possible.

She must have her reasons for refusing; otherwise, she wouldn’t have acted this way.

Noticing Ni Huibo’s slight disappointment, Ni Ruiyuan remained silent. Before departing, she handed him a hefty bag of money.

Holding the bag, the passionate look in Ni Huibo’s eyes began to wane, his expression turning stoic. His grip tightened, warping the coins inside the bag. Eventually, he tossed the bag aside, near the base of a wall.

Moments later, he stiffened, breaking into a cold sweat as the realization of what had just occurred dawned on him.

“I’ve lost control again,” he murmured, furrowing his brow and glancing at his hands.

​Feeling a pang of guilt as he gazed at the flattened money bag, he went over, picked it up, and tucked it into his pocket.

At last, he rushed inside and firmly shut the door behind him.