Immortality is tediously quiet. We might be stuck at the bottom of this abyss for a hundred years, and all I c…
Immortality is tediously quiet. We might be stuck at the bottom of this abyss for a hundred years, and all I can do to pass the time is write down my own story.
I'm no Immortal of Longevity. I am but a man named Ba Wu.
Granny told me "Ba Wu" means "child blessed by the Deer Goddess," so I've worn a deer mask all my life, straining to hear her whispers.
But others say the mask is meant to hide how different I look.
Granny raised me in a hut shared with the Toad King. Every day, venomous swarms from miles around would crawl to it, bearing fresh herbs at its feet like offering tribute. The Toad King liked me. It was my only friend. The villagers believed the Deer Goddess had truly blessed me, that the poison in my veins could subdue any venom.
Word spread, and outsiders branded me "the Immortal of Longevity." Granny scattered herb powder around the village, warning that we must never be found. She was hiding from some wanderers.
Jianghu, or the martial world, sounds poetic. But it was because of the wanderers that we fell into this abyss, cursed with this endless life.
Our only hope now lies with Chen Huaiqing's formula.
The one that might free us from longevity.