Chapter 4

Ling Qingxiao’s gaze was icy, like frost reflecting moonlight, as he stared at her coldly. Luo Han instantly jolted awake. Horrified at herself, she grabbed her head in panic. What on earth was she thinking, teasing the great villain?!
Fully awake now, Luo Han scrambled into a proper sitting position, holding her knees obediently. “I—I was half-asleep just now! I didn’t mean it seriously, don’t take it to heart.”
Terrified he might change his mind about helping her, she quickly clarified, “I promise—I definitely won’t pursue any romantic feelings! We have a purely professional partnership.”
Ling Qingxiao had always maintained perfect self-control, strictly disciplined since childhood. Aside from his sword, no companion had ever stayed by his side. He treated everyone coldly; even his clan at Zhongshan respected him from a polite, wary distance rather than with warmth or affection. This was the first time in his entire life someone had dared mention “dual cultivation” directly to his face.
And it was a woman, at that.
Yet, not long ago, this woman had saved his life. Yun Menghan had merely given him a leaf once, yet he'd willingly protected her for seven centuries without complaint. Luo Han’s kindness was unquestionably deeper. Suppressing his discomfort, Ling Qingxiao spoke stiffly, his voice icy enough to push others away: “I always honor my promises. But I dislike physical intimacy of any kind. I hope you feel the same, so as not to sour relations between us.”
“Absolutely!” Luo Han nodded rapidly. She’d sooner die than repeat such a foolish slip. It had truly been an accident caused by her sleepy confusion—nothing more. Heaven as her witness, she harbored no inappropriate feelings at all.
In fact, Luo Han couldn’t even imagine the eternally aloof and pure Ling Qingxiao ever falling in love, much less engaging in something as worldly as dual cultivation. Even thinking about it made her fear divine retribution.
How could she sully such a pristine, noble immortal with vulgar mortal thoughts? It was practically sinful.
The embarrassing misunderstanding had left their atmosphere strained. Ling Qingxiao finally stood, saying coolly, “Since you’re awake, we should leave now and find a way out. I’ll wait outside.”
Surprised by his thoughtfulness, Luo Han nodded gratefully. Just as Ling Qingxiao reached the cave entrance, he paused and turned slightly. “Are you always this careless around others?”
In the cultivation world, spiritual perception mattered more than sight. Immortals protected themselves primarily against divine senses, not mere eyes. Yet Luo Han seemed utterly trusting—she hadn’t even considered he might spy with his spiritual sense.
Moreover, yesterday she'd casually placed several bottles of priceless Bodhi essence right in front of him. Didn’t she fear that he might be tempted by greed and kill her for the treasure?
Luo Han was momentarily puzzled, but quickly realized what he meant. She laughed gently. “Of course not.”
“I just trust you.”
Ling Qingxiao stood silently at the cave’s mouth. Darkness surrounded him, yet his white robes shone faintly, like a lone laurel tree beneath the moonlight.
He didn’t reply, nor did he look back, disappearing into the shadows without another word.
Luo Han hurriedly got up to straighten her clothing. Thankfully, immortal robes never wrinkled or dirtied, eternally pristine and ethereal, making her preparations swift.
As she tidied up, Luo Han noticed the minor wounds she'd received from falling earlier had already healed completely. Curious as she was, Ling Qingxiao was waiting outside, and she didn’t want to keep him waiting. She quickly dismissed the mystery and hurried after him.
They began their journey, searching for an exit from the abyss.
Ling Qingxiao had long reached the stage where he no longer required food or rest, but Luo Han wasn’t so fortunate. While hunger could be staved off by sipping the spiritual dew provided by the Bodhi tree, sleep was still indispensable. Thus, their progress became slow, traveling intermittently. Their escape from the abyss remained uncertain, yet Luo Han felt their bond gradually deepening.
Or at least, that’s what Luo Han thought on her own.
Tonight, as usual, Ling Qingxiao found her a sheltered spot to rest. She lay down, head resting on her arm, watching as he walked to a distant spot, immediately sitting cross-legged in meditation again. He was incredibly disciplined, never idle even for a moment.
Like a machine. A madman. A war fanatic.
Too bored to sleep, Luo Han couldn’t resist striking up conversation again. Actually, Ling Qingxiao rarely responded; she mostly spoke to herself. Still, even one-sided chatter was better than silence. She’d become increasingly anxious in this endless darkness, and feared she'd go mad without someone to talk to.
“You cultivate whenever you have even a moment free. Don’t you ever get tired?”
Ling Qingxiao didn't reply, answering her with silence instead.
Fine. Luo Han rolled over, gazing upwards, hoping desperately to see stars or sky, even the faintest glimmer of light.
Nothing.
“What’s the outside world like?” she suddenly asked.
Noticing her persistent tone, as if refusing to quit until she got an answer, Ling Qingxiao finally responded reluctantly, “Haven’t you ever seen the outside?”
“Never.” Luo Han didn’t realize Ling Qingxiao was subtly probing for information. Still too innocent, she confessed honestly, “I’ve never cultivated, either. Even though we’re in the immortal realm, I don’t really feel any different.”
Expression unchanged, Ling Qingxiao asked casually, “Your elders never taught you cultivation?”
“No,” Luo Han answered quietly, suddenly melancholy. “Maybe they didn’t have the chance, or maybe they thought I was too troublesome.”
No chance? Ling Qingxiao’s curiosity sharpened at her words. “How old are you, exactly? Why wouldn’t there have been enough time?”
Thankfully, Luo Han knew better than to reveal her Heavenly Dao status. She answered cautiously, “Eighteen.”
Ling Qingxiao waited, expecting Luo Han to continue with "thousand," or "ten thousand," after she said "eighteen." But after a long pause, she said nothing more.
Surprised, Ling Qingxiao broke his usual reserved manner and asked directly, “I meant your actual age.”
Luo Han stared back at him strangely. "Yes, I'm eighteen."
Ling Qingxiao, accustomed to immortals casually counting their age by millennia, was stunned. Cultivators typically spent centuries just cultivating behind closed doors—he couldn't even imagine being only eighteen years old.
His gaze toward Luo Han suddenly changed, his brows furrowing slightly as he scolded her in disbelief: “Nonsense. You're practically an infant—what kind of irresponsible elders let you wander around alone?”
Luo Han immediately bristled at his words, puffing her cheeks defiantly. “Who are you calling an infant? I’m not a baby!”
Ling Qingxiao completely disregarded her protest. To him, an eighteen-year-old child acting recklessly was only natural. Reflecting on her previous words, everything suddenly made sense. She hadn’t begun cultivation yet and had never even stepped into the outside world. Honestly, if he were her elder, he wouldn't let an eighteen-year-old out of the house either.
Dragons lived by a brutal law of survival, yet even they cared deeply for their young. After all, dragon offspring were rare. Despite their reputation among immortals for fertility, many dragon couples went tens of thousands of years without conceiving a single child.
Considering Luo Han’s actual age, Ling Qingxiao’s demeanor softened considerably. Previously he hadn’t bothered answering her questions about the outside world, but now he felt a certain responsibility to guide her.
He patiently explained, “The universe is divided into six realms: Gods, Immortals, Mortals, Demons, Spirits, and Ghosts. Among these, the Immortal Realm, Mortal Realm, and the Underworld are governed by the Celestial Emperor. The Demon Realm is led by the Demon Emperor, with various demon kings managing their own territories. The Spirit Realm has no unified leader, with powerful entities ruling separately.”
Luo Han understood: The Immortal Realm had a feudal monarchy, the Demon Realm resembled a federation, and the Spirit Realm was basically in anarchy. But she suddenly realized something was missing. “What about the God Realm?”
Ling Qingxiao spoke coldly, "Gods? They've long since perished, and their realm has been sealed. The gods vanished from existence ages ago."
Luo Han nodded slowly, feeling both enlightened and confused. Previously she had considered herself an ordinary mortal, always lumping gods and immortals together. Now that she was face-to-face with an actual immortal, she asked humbly, “What's the difference between gods and immortals?”
Ling Qingxiao was meticulous. Despite his usual distant demeanor, he patiently answered every question. "Gods are naturally born from the heavens and the earth, without parents, directly nurtured by nature. Immortals, however, come from cultivation—whether they originated from animals, plants, stones, or humans."
Suddenly uncertain about her own origins, Luo Han hesitated, then asked, "Does having no parents mean one is a god?"
Ling Qingxiao’s gaze briefly flickered toward her, seemingly analytical—though perhaps she imagined it. His expression quickly reverted to its usual icy indifference. "The gods have long been extinct. Ancient records are unclear, and I don't know much about them either."
“Oh,” Luo Han murmured, resting her chin on her arms, deep in thought. Noticing her silence, Ling Qingxiao asked casually, “Why are you so interested in gods?”
“Just curious,” Luo Han replied, gazing upward into the endless darkness. Spending too long in this sunless abyss had left her feeling emotionally drained. She sighed softly, asking, “Why is this place like this? I've heard it's called the Abyss of Absolute Spirits, a place where gods fell. Is it ruined like this because of their deaths?”
"The Abyss of the Fallen Gods is merely one popular theory," Ling Qingxiao replied calmly, gazing up at the dark cliffs. "Ancient texts suggest this might actually be the lost God Realm itself."
“The God Realm?” Luo Han was startled. “I thought gods and immortals lived in divine, beautiful places—bright and filled with life. Why would their realm be barren and lifeless?”
“It's just a legend,” Ling Qingxiao concluded dismissively, ending the conversation. Closing his eyes again, he resumed cultivating. Luo Han didn't disturb him further, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Yet, in her dreams, she felt as if someone quietly watched over her.
At the bottom of this abyss, darkness never lifted. There were no days, nights, or seasons. Gradually, Luo Han lost track of time. Eventually, the two of them stumbled into a peculiar place.
Ever since Ling Qingxiao recovered, the creatures lurking in the abyss posed no real threat. Still, they were only two people; avoiding unnecessary fights was preferable. They were pursued by strange, invisible entities hidden in the wind. Ling Qingxiao was forced to slow down significantly to protect Luo Han, retreating carefully until they accidentally stumbled into an intricate natural formation.
No living beings inhabited the Abyss of Absolute Spirits, yet this formation utilized stones, dead wood, and natural landscapes as anchors. A formation that embodied heaven's law, formed entirely by nature, was extremely troublesome to break.
Realizing they had become trapped, Luo Han asked softly, “What happened?”
“It’s a natural formation,” Ling Qingxiao replied calmly. “It’s nothing serious, just a bit troublesome.”
Luo Han nodded, fully aware of her role: Ling Qingxiao handled everything, while she specialized in holding him back. She didn't interrupt as Ling Qingxiao began examining the formation, quietly murmuring to herself, “If nobody lives here, why would a formation exist? Who set this up?”
She thought she was only talking to herself, but immortals had exceptionally sharp senses. Ling Qingxiao immediately heard her. He didn't reply, focusing instead on guiding Luo Han safely through the formation. However, Luo Han’s casual remark soon proved prophetic—the formation wasn't natural; someone had deliberately created it.
Moreover, whoever set this formation was profoundly powerful, far beyond even Golden Immortals.
Immortals were cultivators who ascended through five main ranks: Spirit Immortal, Celestial Immortal, True Immortal, Golden Immortal, and Great Luo Immortal Lord. The first step—Spirit Immortal—marked the threshold of true immortality. Each subsequent advancement grew exponentially harder, with only one in tens of thousands ever reaching Golden Immortal.
True Immortals were already renowned, Golden Immortals could only be seen once every ten thousand years at the Pantao Festival, and Great Luo Immortal Lords were mere legends.
Historically, not all Great Luo Immortals became Celestial Emperors, but all Celestial Emperors were unquestionably Great Luo Immortals. Strength defined hierarchy in the immortal realm, and dragons held unique advantages among immortals, possessing incredible combat prowess. Within dragon clans, strength ruled absolutely.
Thus, the Celestial Emperor typically emerged from dragon lineage—the strongest dragon naturally ascended to rule all immortals.
Ling Qingxiao had reached Celestial Immortal status by just one thousand years old, an unprecedented feat that had shaken the entire celestial realm. Among dragons, absolute strength dictated status. If one clan produced a powerful genius, the entire clan would immediately rise in prestige. That was precisely why, after Ling Qingxiao's ascension to Celestial Immortal, his stepmother had forced him to give up his dragon core—transferring his talent to her own son. Otherwise, had Ling Qingxiao continued to advance, their rivals, the Linshan Su clan, would surely have been suppressed, and Ling Qingxiao’s birth mother might have even displaced her as the primary wife.
Such were the ruthless, merciless laws that governed dragon clans.
Ling Qingxiao’s lips curled into a bitter smirk at the memory. Birth mother or adoptive mother—what did either have to do with him anymore? Both of them only had eyes for Ling Zhongyu anyway.
With Ling Qingxiao’s current cultivation, he could only determine that whoever had created this mysterious array was at least above Golden Immortal level. Yet, deep down, he sensed the creator’s true strength was far beyond a mere Golden Immortal—
Perhaps even beyond an immortal altogether.
Luo Han carefully followed Ling Qingxiao step by step. She glanced behind her and saw the strange winds lingering at the border, hesitant to cross over. A sudden fear gripped her heart. “Have we accidentally entered an even more dangerous place?”
"No need to worry," Ling Qingxiao reassured, his voice as calm and reliable as always. "Just stay close to me—watch out!"
But it was already too late. In a heartbeat, the ground beneath Luo Han shifted dramatically. Before Ling Qingxiao could reach out, she vanished before his eyes.
Face cold and grim, Ling Qingxiao immediately summoned his sword, launching a furious assault against the formation trapping them.
Meanwhile, Luo Han blinked, finding herself suddenly transported elsewhere. Mist enveloped her surroundings, thick yet strangely intangible. Within the mist, a pair of ancient eyes silently gazed at her.
Turning around, she found that Ling Qingxiao was nowhere to be seen.
A wave of dizziness washed over Luo Han. Her grand mission to save the world seemed destined for failure now. Yet, unwilling to lose face, she straightened her posture and addressed the unseen presence calmly, feigning confidence: “You went through so much trouble to draw me here—what exactly do you want?”
She recognized these eyes. Every time she’d slept lately, these were the eyes silently watching her dreams. The mist suddenly dispersed, revealing a barren landscape of ancient yellow earth, ordinary yet exuding an inexplicable pressure—as if it had existed for eternity, a place where even ancient history was but a fleeting moment. Before Luo Han, golden light coalesced into a vague, indistinct humanoid figure.
The figure’s features were indistinguishable, neither male nor female, its voice echoing with ancient melancholy: “I’ve waited countless years, until my physical form rotted and my consciousness faded to mere fragments. Even my remaining essence is soon to vanish. I had believed I would never see the birth of another deity.”
“Welcome home to the Divine Realm, little cub.”

Author’s Note:
Ling Qingxiao: “How old are you?”
Luo Han: “Eighteen. You?”
Ling Qingxiao: “……”
And thus, we have a thousand-year-old super ancient old man.