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That night, Banished Immortal City was a scene of splendor, as the streets had long been adorned with all manner of colorful lanterns, illuminating the city under the cover of darkness as if it were daylight.
Various street performances filled the thoroughfares, and children frolicked under the glow of the lanterns. Today marked the birthday of the City Lord of Banished Immortal City, who, as the city’s ruler and the de facto ruler of this small world, naturally had his birthday celebrated grandly with jubilation throughout the land.
At the sa ti, the City Lord’s Manor was ablaze with light, all the servants bustled about, occupied with preparations. Each year at this ti, the City Lord would hold a family banquet, and this year was no exception.
However, in the shadows where the light could not reach, countless figures erged, silently hiding within the darkness as if part of it—their blades shining with a cold, ghostly light. Those clad in black cast a dark pall over what appeared to be a festive evening.
At the highest point of Banished Immortal City stood the City Lord’s Hall, symbolizing the seat of power, now resplendent with splendor. The wide hall was hung with colorful silk drapes, and a red carpet stretched from the entrance to the innermost part, as maids lit the most precious spices of the world.
Suddenly, the entire hall was filled with enchanting fragrances. Servants had already arranged the red tables, designated for the guests arriving at the banquet, of course, with the two tables at the very front reserved for the City Lord’s Manor’s two sons.
The carefully prepared dishes were soon brought out by the servants, their rich aromas wafting through the air, making the surrounding servants swallow their saliva. But they dared not show any greed or longing, for the stage today was destined for those who held sway in Banished Immortal City.
As ti passed, guests began to trickle in from outside, each bearing precious gifts and a friendly smile, polite and cordial to everyone as if they were the kindest of souls. Those who once stood high and mighty now bowed their proud heads.
The last to enter the hall were naturally the City Lord’s two sons. One, clad in black, and the other, in white, they entered the hall slowly, with one pale and coughing intermittently, and the other wearing a gentle smile, abounding in grace, greeting everyone they saw, even bestowing smiles upon the nearby servants, much to their amazent.
The two sons took their respective places at the head of the room, while those below eyed the successors of the City Lord, murmuring among themselves.
Everyone in Banished Immortal City knew that the elder son had been frail since childhood, and whether he could outlive the City Lord was unknown. After a century, the power of Banished Immortal City would undoubtedly fall to the scholarly and genteel younger son. As the City Lord aged day by day, many in the shadows had already begun to harbor ulterior motives.
Just when everyone was harboring their own sches, a call to announce the arrival quieted the once noisy hall. Today’s birthday star, the protagonist of this banquet, the City Lord had arrived.
The City Lord was dressed in extraordinarily lavish attire, embroidered with gold thread, exuding an imposing presence without even a hint of anger. Holding his young and beautiful wife’s hand, he strode slowly along the red carpet like a tiger surveying its domain.
All present bowed their heads, showing their reverence to the ruler of Banished Immortal City—his thods had left every single one of them with fear and trepidation. The City Lord’s throne was forged of stark white bones and crimson blood.
The City Lord moved towards the highest point of the hall, where his throne awaited him alone. Under his gaze, everyone trembled, a feeling that intoxicated him. At this mont, his longing for immortality grew—he saw power as an addictive poison, impossible to resist.
As he passed his two sons, he directed his gaze towards his eldest, and a trace of disgust flickered imperceptibly in his eyes before he asked softly, "Are you feeling any better?"
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The voice contained no emotion whatsoever, as if he were rely making a routine inquiry.
The eldest son slightly lowered his head and softly replied, "Much better, thank you for father’s concern."
"That’s good, don’t overwork yourself if you’re not feeling well, it could reduce your lifespan." The City Lord’s gaze seed to shoot out cold, piercing blades. He gave his son, who appeared frail and sickly, a chilly glance and spoke with an indescribable implication in his tone.
While he spoke with his eldest son, the woman by his side stealthily glanced at the second son dressed in white, revealing a smile stunning enough to bring a kingdom to its knees.
Gazing at the woman before him, whom he knew all too well, the second son’s eyes were filled with longing, but he dared not make even the slightest move.
The City Lord, with the woman’s hand in his, ascended to his throne and surveyed the entire hall, feeling suprely content in this mont. What a wonderful scene it was, he praised inwardly.
Following the City Lord’s seating, the banquet officially comnced. Music and dance began to resound, the atmosphere warming up gradually. Everyone wore a friendly smile, but as to what thoughts lay within their hearts, only the heavens knew.
On a tall building not far from the City Lord’s Manor, four Taoists were gazing at the lively commotion inside. Their eyes held an indifferent expression, as if they were looking at a swarm of ants.
"Such a tiny place, yet there exists such strict hierarchy. I wonder whether to say the Human Path is strong or the multitudes are pitiful," remarked a Taoist with a face of indifference, who rarely spoke with such a sigh.
"Amitabha, all beings are sunk in the bitter sea, unable to achieve Transcendence or see the other shore," the Monk said with his hands clasped, his appearance solemn in this mont.
"You, a Monk who has broken his precepts, are actually able to utter such profound words with a Zen riddle," the Poisonous freak taunted.
"This humble monk was ordained at a young age and has studied Buddhism for many years. There’s nothing strange about having such a Zen insight," he retorted.
"Don’t argue, don’t spoil my fun of watching the drama. The old lady has put a lot of effort into this play; I can’t afford to miss it," said the old woman, her face covered in wrinkles.
anwhile, Lu Yu was andering down the bustling streets, observing the lively mortal world and the variety of human conditions. When he arrived at a place selling masks, he slowly picked up a white one painted with a strange Divine Spirit. Lu Yu, however, knew this to be the image of the Great Minister of Fate, one of the ancient Divine Spirits that remained in this world.
Wearing the mask, he looked through it towards the brightly lit City Lord’s Manor. His gaze was as still as a motionless ancient well. What did he have to do with the joys and sorrows, the separations and reunions there? At this mont, he resembled the Great Minister of Fate who once had controlled destinies, lofty and aloof, quietly watching the world’s changes.
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