Chapter 23

Chapter 23: The Langgan Tree

Nighttime Cangcheng lay wrapped in tranquility — though that might simply have been because they were in the abandoned starskiff port, far from the bustling city center.

The two had been messing around until nearly midnight. Wangshu sat sideways on the edge of a massive old shipping container, gazing at the pristine white jade tree in the distance — still brilliantly luminous even in the depths of night.

"Beautiful, right?"

Jingliu braced herself with one small hand and hopped up beside him. She flopped lazily onto the container's surface, then without an ounce of hesitation, used little Wangshu's thigh as a pillow.

The container was cool to the touch, but little Wangshu's body temperature was always warm.

She used to hate being dragged to desolate places like this by classmates — boring, a waste of time. But tonight... it didn't seem so bad.

She was even beginning to quietly look forward to tomorrow morning — probably just another simple bowl of congee and a fried egg, but somehow it would feel different.

So this was what it was like, having someone at home on a night like this. It really wasn't boring at all.

"It's beautiful," Wangshu answered sincerely, his gaze still lingering on that gentle radiance. "And the light... it feels so soothing. Not harsh at all."

Cangcheng's Abundance miracle was especially visible at night. The glow was soft and warm as jade, and this tree had earned the name Langgan Tree likely because of its flawlessly pure white form.

"Mm-hm~ This is our Cangcheng's Langgan Jade Tree. Legend says that eating its fruit can easily grant immortality."

Whenever Cangcheng came up, that spark of hometown pride always crept into Jingliu's lively little face.

But just as quickly, she wriggled like a cat adjusting its position, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. "Though the legend's not true."

If immortality were that simple, it would have been Cangcheng — not the Luofu — that had ushered in the new era with all the world paying tribute.

Jingliu didn't really know the full story behind the Langgan Jade Tree, but the Luofu had indeed pioneered longevity. Cangcheng was the last to have death fully eradicated.

"Huh? It's not real?"

Wangshu looked down at her, somewhat surprised.

"Immortality isn't that simp—"

Little Jingliu stopped mid-sentence. Gazing up at Wangshu's profile, lit softly by the distant tree's glow, a thought struck her. Her crimson eyes sharpened slightly.

"Little Wangshu, do you want to live forever too?"

Her voice dropped, carrying a faint, almost imperceptible note of probing.

Wangshu looked out at the Langgan Jade Tree, which seemed to reach into the heavens themselves, and nodded. Who wouldn't?

Jingliu pressed her lips together. Her future self was so terrible — going so far as to embrace Propagation and become a universal villain, even trying to defy fate. And yet she hadn't even found a way to give him immortality?

Was she going to leave that job to the good version of herself? How inconsiderate.

"But all of Cangcheng's immortality methods were destroyed. Only a few archived texts probably still contain prescriptions from the Age of Divine Descent."

Little Jingliu was conflicted. Being young, she didn't have much reverence for the Celestial Edicts.

As if steeling herself for some kind of resolution, she suddenly grabbed the hand Wangshu had resting at his side, her tone earnest: "Little Wangshu, wait for me to pass the coming-of-age certification. Then I'll search for the immortality method with you."

Wangshu gave her cheek a gentle squeeze. "You don't need to worry about that, little Jingliu. I'd rather not end up on the Xianzhou Alliance's wanted list someday."

Immortality. Just two simple words, yet they encompassed perhaps the most fundamental desire in all of Chinese civilization — from the highest emperor to the lowliest commoner, from ancient times to the present, the pursuit of eternal life ran through everything.

"It's fine. We'll search in secret. The Langgan Jade Tree spreads throughout all of Cangcheng. If we sneak a few ingredients, nobody should notice... probably."

But Jingliu had gotten fired up, trying to convince him — and herself. She looked rather chivalrous about it.

Wangshu laughed. He relaxed his thigh muscles, trying to make the little one's pillow as comfortable as possible.

"There's no need. The future you has already shown me the path."

He had no designs on the Xianzhou's long-life physique, because in a sense, he was already on the road to immortality.

Others might still need to find their own way, but thanks to the timeline and borrowed power, the Propagation remnants had already charted his course.

Once he dealt with the Propagation situation, immortality was in the bag.

Jingliu studied his profile, blinked, and the color in her crimson eyes dimmed slightly. She suddenly felt listless. She sat up, small hands gripping the container's edge.

"I'm a little sleepy, little Wangshu."

"Completely understandable. After all, the brilliant little Jingliu has never stayed up this late before."

Wangshu stood up too, shaking out his slightly numb legs.

Staying up late wasn't a good habit, sure. But a person needed a few bad habits — at the very least, they added some variety to an otherwise unchanging life.

Hopping down from the container, Jingliu suddenly turned her head. "Does she go to sleep on time too?"

"Who?"

Wangshu didn't follow for a second.

"Me."

Little Jingliu's tone was even.

Wangshu shook his head. "Her schedule's a mess. I honestly suspect the future you doesn't need sleep at all."

Senior Jingliu in the group chat was like an NPC — online twenty-four hours a day. Whenever someone chatted and pinged her, she was there.

Though thinking about it that way was rather rude.

Little Jingliu hung her head. Wangshu quickly averted his gaze and hurried to catch up.

"How did Lady Jingliu get all gloomy? Don't tell me it's a long-life species thing to be jealous of yourself."

"But I don't even know her."

Little Jingliu protested, still somewhat sulky.

"Besides, I suspect that when you look at me, all you see is her shadow!"

"Little Wangshu, I'm very disappointed. I've always been on your side."

Jingliu rose on her tiptoes without making it obvious, trying to gain a bit of height so her words would carry more weight.

Wangshu sighed. "She's in prison. Little Jingliu really doesn't need to compete with a convict."

A man should know when to tell people what they wanted to hear. But Senior Jingliu had just given him a lifetime pass on her power — the least he could do was show a little loyalty. His conscience demanded that much.

"P-Prison?!"

Sure enough, the moment she heard "prison," Jingliu instantly dropped everything else. Her eyes held nothing but shock at the revelation.

After a brief stunned silence, she found it made perfect sense. Her expression relaxed somewhat.

"Bad people do belong in prison."

"Whatever. I'm not going to waste my energy on someone doing time behind bars."

Having found herself a graceful exit, her mood visibly improved.

The abandoned starskiff port returned to silence. Wangshu took one last look at the distant Langgan Jade Tree. Its jade-soft glow appeared slightly haloed from this distance, and the light seemed to carry a soothing, heart-calming quality.

How beautiful, he thought.

"How beautiful."

At the highest point of the abandoned starskiff port, Hoolay — neither clearly male nor female — gazed quietly at the Langgan Jade Tree, motionless as a statue. They spared only a brief, sidelong glance as the pair departed, then returned their eyes to the tree.

Long-life species always had their defects. Abundance's power was supposed to be selflessly altruistic — how could such defects exist?

Was it the universe's rules? The equilibrium of mutual exchange? Or Abundance's own incompleteness? No one knew.

But using Abundance to plunder and then compensate for one's own deficiencies... that really was a rather elegant approach.

"The Langgan Tree — its fruit like pearls, warm and lustrous as jade, pure and immaculate."

They murmured an ancient description, their voice scattering in the night wind, heard by no one.