The Spring Festival in the Third Medicine Valley was an overwhelming success. Everyone drank and chatted throughout the night, strengthening their bonds with one another.

Gu An, however, had a busy night. Even though he acted warmly toward everyone, he could sense the restrained attitude of those interacting with him. Only An Xin and Shen Zhen seemed unaffected.

Even Wu Jue had grown distant, his demeanor different from before.

Perhaps this was the downside of being too powerful.

Standing by the window, Gu An quietly watched as his friends departed one by one.

The rays of the morning sun cast a golden hue over the scene, making it look as if the departing figures were draped in divine light.

After watching for a moment, Gu An turned back to his desk. He had begun drafting a book on cultivating the heart and mind. This was in response to Lü Baitian’s proposal the previous night about establishing a method for nurturing one’s mindset and spreading it across the entire Tai Xuan Sect. This, he hoped, would help disciples tread a steadier path in the future.

Gu An offered numerous suggestions for this initiative, including having masters deliver unified training courses. This way, no disciple would be neglected due to lack of connections.

The Tai Xuan Sect no longer needed to focus on nurturing prodigies. It was now more important to build a solid foundation for the sect as a whole. Every disciple had to contribute to the collective strength of the sect.

A sect blessed with prodigies might not necessarily grow strong, but a sect filled with capable disciples was destined to thrive.

Gu An crafted a comprehensive hundred-year cultivation plan. Under this plan, every new disciple, upon entering the sect, would be entitled to receive a century’s worth of foundational techniques and guidance—unless they violated sect rules. This would ensure that all disciples of the Tai Xuan Sect possessed remarkable strength and became true cultivators.

Lü Baitian was deeply moved by this plan. Though it would require significant resources, he believed it was worth it. If successful, the Tai Xuan Sect would undoubtedly rise as a true holy land of cultivation.

The most crucial factor was that the proposal came from the Sword Master of the Dao, Gu An. No one in the sect would dare oppose it. Even if resources were scarce, noble families would undoubtedly come forward with their support. In other words, this endeavor, if desired, was certain to succeed.

“I wonder how long the Tai Xuan Sect can endure. But if it can secure a better future for most of its disciples, that in itself is a great virtue,” Gu An murmured to himself, feeling content.

At this stage in his life, material gains held little importance to him. Instead, he had begun cherishing the intangible—experiences, insights, and wisdom.

Having inherited countless reincarnations, Gu An had amassed a wealth of understanding. Now, he yearned to distill the lessons from his own life.

The path to the Grand Dao was long and arduous. The comprehension of the Dao could not be enhanced merely by extending one’s lifespan. Yet, with his ability to evolve through longevity, Gu An had the time to immerse himself in the mysteries of the Dao.

A spring breeze swept in through the open window, brushing past the delicate blue flower on the table.

The flower swayed gently, as if gesturing at the passage of time, reminding all living beings that once youth and vigor passed, they would never return.

Time flew by. A hundred years passed in the blink of an eye.

On this particular day, Gu An strolled through the bustling streets of the outer sect city, accompanied by the Blood Prison Saint.

The Blood Prison Saint, now in his human form, radiated a rugged, untamed aura. His intimidating gaze carried an air of ferocity, instantly drawing attention. Yet, despite his striking presence, most onlookers were fixated on Gu An.

Wherever Gu An went, people greeted him with enthusiasm. He nodded in acknowledgment to each one. Those unfamiliar with him curiously inquired about his identity.

“Who’s that? He seems so extraordinary.”

“That’s the Valley Master of the Third Medicine Valley, Gu An. Some say he’s the Sword Master of the Dao.”

“What? He’s the legendary Sword Master of the Dao?”

“I’m not sure. I heard he’s a disciple of the Sword Master of the Dao, but either way, he represents him.”

“He’s the one who proposed the Hundred-Year Legacy Plan for the Tai Xuan Sect. We juniors owe him everything. If not for him, entering the sect without talent would have meant groveling for access to cultivation techniques or venturing outside to fight for resources.”

“So it was his idea? That plan changed everything. He deserves the utmost respect.”

Wherever Gu An walked, discussions about the Hundred-Year Legacy Plan followed.

The Tai Xuan Sect had implemented the plan with incredible efficiency. News of it had spread far and wide, earning the sect admiration from all corners. Even disciples from other sects praised the Tai Xuan Sect’s magnanimity.

Some sects attempted to emulate the initiative but were hindered by internal resistance.

Within sects and noble families, not all leaders wished for the prosperity of every disciple. Many prioritized their own interests. The Hundred-Year Legacy Plan threatened to disrupt this status quo, and so, it faced staunch opposition.

This sparked intense power struggles between sect elders and noble families across the realm. In some places, rivers of blood flowed;
in others, tensions simmered beneath the surface.

The world remained in turmoil. Gu An had no desire to meddle in the fate of the entire realm. Managing the Tai Xuan Sect was already a significant contribution.

[Name: Gu An]

[Lifespan: 1,100/3,391,514,220]

[Physique: Hunyuan Dao Golden Physique]

[Cultivation Level: Profound Origin Free Immortal Realm – Perfection Stage]

3.3 billion years of lifespan!

Gu An felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Time seemed to accelerate around him, yet he remained calm and steady. He had no intention of expanding the Third Medicine Valley or embarking on new ventures to seize lifespans. Harvesting lifespans required his direct intervention—neither puppets nor clones could suffice. And without pressing enmity, Gu An saw no need to focus all his efforts on extracting lifespans.

Moreover, the larger his movements, the more likely he was to attract significant crises. The current growth rate of his lifespan brought him satisfaction. He could stabilize his lifespan gains while also enjoying life—a balance he found to be the epitome of cultivation.

The Blood Prison Saint, since regaining his cultivation, had begun to understand the pleasure Gu An derived from a tranquil life.

A peaceful existence was not necessarily dull, and the path of cultivation was not solely about constant battle and bloodshed.

As Gu An entered the Scripture Pavilion, the Blood Prison Saint lingered outside, pacing near the entrance.

His horned head and blood-red hair instantly drew attention wherever he went. Even though the Tai Xuan Sect had its share of demon disciples, few carried such an imposing and sharp aura as his.

He openly displayed his Loose Immortal realm aura, sparking curiosity about his strength.

Yet, within the Tai Xuan Sect, even the presence of an immortal-level figure would not cause alarm. Disciples were confident that no one would dare cause trouble under the watchful protection of their sect’s supreme immortal guardians.

This time, Gu An did not enter the Scripture Pavilion to write or share books but to acquire them. The pavilion had been actively collecting rare and unique texts from across the realm on his behalf, a gesture he had graciously accepted.

Though his cultivation allowed him to deduce and calculate truths, Gu An refrained from doing so. He preferred the tactile pleasure of leafing through pages. Even with power that surpassed the Heavenly Spirit World, Gu An retained the habits of a mortal, grounding himself in simplicity.

In addition to his growing lifespan, Gu An had achieved deeper insights into the Daos of Karma and Fate over the years. His mastery of these two grand principles allowed him to wield their divine abilities with even greater potency. Such benefits came from immersing himself in the mundane world.

Compared to theoretical deductions, engaging with people and observing their emotions and experiences provided a richer understanding of life and the Dao.

When the elders of the Scripture Pavilion learned of Gu An’s arrival, they eagerly gathered around, enthusiastically recommending their most prized acquisitions. Gu An calmly gestured for them to present their books one by one, assuring them he would stay for an entire hour.

Hearing this, the elders immediately composed themselves, their faces glowing with smiles that did not fade.

Taking turns based on seniority, they introduced their collections. Gu An listened attentively, though the earlier recommendations failed to pique his interest.

Finally, one elder stepped forward with an air of mystery. “Brother Gu, this book is extraordinary. Its origins are unknown, but it appeared suddenly overseas and has since become widely celebrated. Some say this book can foretell the future.”

The elder produced a blue-covered book and handed it over, his voice dripping with intrigue.

Gu An’s gaze fell on the cover, where three words were inscribed: Heavenly Dao Discourse.

Raising his hand, Gu An effortlessly drew the book into his grasp. The elder, unfazed by the display of power, continued narrating the tales surrounding Heavenly Dao Discourse.

Opening the first page, Gu An was immediately captivated.

“Heavenly Dao: the extinction of all living beings constitutes the Heavenly Dao;
the fall of the Grand Dao becomes the Heavenly Dao!”

Was this a book that criticized the Heavenly Dao?

Gu An’s curiosity deepened, and he turned the pages with growing intrigue, eager to see how this book claimed to predict the future.

Multiple elders joined the conversation, sharing what they had heard about Heavenly Dao Discourse. According to them, there were only nine authentic copies of the book, while the rest were replicas. It was said that those who acquired an authentic copy could gain extraordinary powers—or suffer relentless misfortune, even to the point of death and destruction. In short, possessing the book was a gamble of fate, carrying both blessings and curses.

After an extended period of perusal, Gu An finally closed the book, a faint smile gracing his lips. “This book is fascinating. I’ll take it. If you come across any more copies of Heavenly Dao Discourse, save them for me.”

The elder’s face lit up with joy, and he pounded his chest in assurance. “Of course, Brother Gu! Consider it done.”

The elder did not ask for compensation. Being on good terms with Gu An was reward enough.

In the Tai Xuan Sect, claiming to be Gu An’s friend guaranteed respect. No one would dare to show disrespect. And should anyone attempt to impersonate such a connection, cultivators loyal to the sect would promptly intervene.

It was rumored that the Tai Xuan Sect had even established a secret division to monitor such claims, ensuring that neither Gu An’s reputation nor the Sword Master of the Dao’s name would be tarnished.

Gu An requested the elders to present all the other books they had prepared for him. He did not wish to waste their good intentions.

In the end, accompanied by the elders, Gu An exited the Scripture Pavilion.

The moment Gu An stepped outside, the Blood Prison Saint quickly approached.

Gu An glanced at him and remarked, “You’re already a Loose Immortal. There’s no need to squabble with him anymore.”

The Blood Prison Saint, caught off guard, chuckled awkwardly. He cleared his throat and replied, “I was just teasing him for fun. I see him as a child—how could I bully him?”

The “child” he referred to was none other than the White Spirit Mouse.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep