Immortal Travel of Longevity
Chapter 499: Warm Breeze in the Mountain Stream
Publish Time: 2026-06-13 00:32:00
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Chen Changsheng never did tell Yan Ruchu the truth.
In his view, as an emperor, perhaps one shouldn’t dwell on such “trivial” matters. Whatever reason brought him to the throne, now that he occupied it, the reason itself no longer mattered.
Besides, sometimes knowing wasn’t necessarily a good thing.
After thinking it over, it was better to let these elusive truths fade away with time.
If no one knew, if no one understood, that was best.
Exiting the Shangjing Imperial Palace, Chen Changsheng breathed a sigh of relief. He looked back at the towering palace gate.
After staring at it for a long time, he turned and walked toward the outskirts of Shangjing City.
Yet, he seemed to think of something.
Just as he was about to depart, Chen Changsheng turned his gaze in another direction.
After walking for a long while.
What he saw were still layers of guards; the road remained heavily guarded.
It was another imperial mausoleum.
But this one was solely the resting place of one man, commemorating a Grand Ancestor.
The gate of the mausoleum had been completely sealed shut.
When Chen Changsheng arrived, glimpses of the site showed weeds nearly smothering its entrance, leaving no dignity visible.
As for why guards remained here, it was likely because Yan Ruchu honored this Founding Emperor of Xiang, who had united the land.
Chen Changsheng did not enter. He merely stood at the gate, watching for a moment.
As dusk approached.
He heard faint footsteps approaching.
The newcomer’s face was wrinkled; she wore a palace maid’s attire. Her eyes were weary and weather-beaten, as though she’d witnessed countless trials.
The elderly woman in maid’s clothing set down the food box she carried, placing its contents one by one before the grand mausoleum gate.
Chen Changsheng initially thought it must be offerings of food.
But what met his eye was simply a few plump, green plums arranged on a plate.
“Green plums?”
Chen Changsheng muttered under his breath.
The elderly woman, arranging the plums, stiffened. She turned around, only to find no presence behind her.
“Who’s there?”
The old woman’s voice grated hoarsely. She straightened up, scanning the surroundings.
Chen Changsheng’s breath hitched. With a flick of his hand, he dispelled the spell cloaking him.
The old woman blinked as a figure in a blue gown abruptly materialized before her.
She froze momentarily before staggering backward.
Chen Changsheng spoke gently, “Fear not, grandmother. I bear no ill will. I merely met the Founding Emperor once. Passing by now, I thought to pay my respects.”
Her lips parted, incredulous.
For a notable duration, silence hung thickly between them; she seemed to be calming her racing heart.
After nearly seven minutes elapsed, the elderly woman noticed the blue-robed gentleman made no move to harm her; tension gradually ebbed from her frame.
She peered at Chen Changsheng, her voice laced with suspicion: “This humble elder recalls no mention of such an acquaintance from the Grand Ancestor.”
Chen Changsheng answered quietly: “Maybe he preferred not to conjure my memory.”
She pressed: “Why?”
Casting his thoughts for a moment, he said: “Likely… apprehension.”
“He feared you?”
“He was fearful… of his very self.”
After the words settled, Chen Changsheng’s eyes drifted to the green plums.
“Apprehensive of the longing to reclaim what once slipped through his fingers,” he added softly.
The old woman’s gaze followed his to the dish bearing the plums.
The meaning behind his words felt obscure to her.
A flicker of unease stirred.
Her voice emerged, cracked with age: “Are you… a Deity?”
Chen Changsheng gave a minute shake of his head. “I am simply… nothing.”
Her expression remained perplexed.
“Should this lowly elder kneel?” she ventured, worry evident. Perhaps offending beings beyond mortals seemed unwise.
He shook his head firmly. “Not necessary. Furthermore, no one merits such submission from you. Not humanity. Nor immortals.”
Taken aback, her lips parted, yet speech abandoned her.
Quiet fell again upon the Imperial Mausoleum.
Night breezes crept closer; an early autumn chill seeped into the stillness.
Chen Changsheng broke the silence: “After this day, honored Matriarch, perhaps offer different tributes. In life, one green plum was… sufficient torment.”
Her posture visibly tightened. “You know… what that particular plum signifies?”
He sighed softly: “Signifies naught. Misfortune disguised. Yet merely a token… one my companion gifted him at the mountain’s base years past.”
“Was that person… significant to the emperor?”
She regarded him earnestly, seeking clues within mere words, purpose within fragments.
“Likely… not.”
Stillness followed his reply.
The aged queen finally whispered, almost to herself: “This humble soul… never grasped the significance either. Yet even near the end… his hand… refused releasing that pitiful prize.”
“So… such was his truth?”
His words mirrored her thoughts; understanding the why behind the offering bloomed within him.
After a reflective pause, Chen Changsheng stated flatly: “The Founding Emperor ascended greatness.”
“Greatness too finds the separation of death’s inevitability,” the elder gently countered.
“Perhaps… his passing was Will of Heaven.”
Chen Changsheng continued: “Your Ladyship surely recalls his character. Skill graced him in storms of conquest… steadfastness fled under peace’s shadow.”
She dipped her head; tacit agreement resonated in the silence.
The Founding Emperor offered ruthless steel, not mercy. Even before conquest’s flames lit Da Xiang’s western frontiers, tremors of instability quivered already beneath extravagant excesses. Stability breathed solely through the Crown Prince’s measured implementation of benevolent reforms. Revolt had simmered; chaos had threatened immersion. Prosperity grew more tangible only later — upon Yan Ruchu’s ascension — meticulous order orchestrated above… balance finally awaited below.
Reflecting thusly, strength seemed to abandon her; the path forward remained unclear.
“Enough… exhaustion claims this weathered spirit,” she murmured with sudden weariness.
He accepted peacefully, “Discourse can cease.”
“Mm.”
The Imperial Mausoleum sighed quiet once again.
Chen Changsheng preserved reverent distance from the former Empress.
He sensed layers hanging deep within: unspoken wailings echoed history; stale anguish resided alongside immeasurable sorrow spun from unmending grief.
His focus then returned to the entrance choked by untamed neglect.
Beside the path, green wood snapped sharply from an overhanging branch.
Advancing methodically, Chen Changsheng swept and sliced relentlessly: severed tangles surrendered dignity; repelled vines retreated. Clarity awakened — permitting the structure grace deserving of its past dominion.
Observing him persist, the elderly woman cautioned: “Kindly halt. The sovereign forbade tending here.”
Chen Changsheng glanced back. “Present my identity. Declare my hand performed these gestures henceforth. Tell him… any who dare clear this gateway possess consent perpetual. Should protest escape his lips… posing just one question suffices: inquire — whether conscience endured disintegration, eaten by dogs long past?”
The aged woman froze momentarily. Then… weathered laughter escaped her softly.
“Such language remains unfit, Sir. He commands Heaven’s Mandate — the Son of Heaven!”
“Words fit precisely.”
Pondering his resolve, she eventually conceded: “Then, this lowly elder commits remembrance…as instructed.”
Delicacy after delicacy fled within Chen Changsheng’s working breath. One patch relinquished hold; space conceived exposed scars. Diligence conquered abandonment — accomplishing longed-for respect upon the long-neglected grounds until shadows consumed remaining light.
Perhaps, this single act symbolized his final tribute: sovereign dignity returned symbolically.
True night deepened. Mountain stream winds gradually grew teeth; moisture cloaked stiffening grass.
Years bent the elder queen’s legs; mere observation acknowledged Chen Changsheng’s task. She waited unmoving, refusing departure until completion.
After the final strand surrendered, he gestured gently: “The hour falls cold. Does Her Majesty delay journey?”
“Shifting steps commence… momentarily.”
“Guardianship offered? Mountain streams harbor biting fangs — spiders spinning trails; predators beneath leaves — when darkness reigns supreme.”
“This quiet retreat… shelters my permanent dwelling.”
“Such reality…”
No further words broke silence. Chen Changsheng raised hands faintly forward: “My departure beckons also.”
“Fareforward with guiding light.”
“Respect paid, Matriarch.”
“Indeed.”
She halted his growing distance. Her voice remained a fragile thing crackling through frigid dark. “Implementation… permits one question?”
“Speak freely, Honored One.”
Her next breath halted; hope battled terror, wrestling the future. “…Lingers… my son upon existence’s shores?”
“Aye. Life remains.”
“Very…very…”
Relief bloomed visible upon withered features; an expression embodying profound kindness surfaced… settling into gentle contentment.
Embracing the night, Chen Changsheng also turned, dissolving footsteps merging into the flowing obscurity of silhouettes shifting beyond.
Mountain stream winds retained less bite nearby… air seemingly self-warming…
As though… celestial sympathizers themselves gently murmured concern — shielding the elder queen confined near cold stones.
Decent indeed.
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