Mortal Mage

There is a small river sandwiched between two undulating hills. The river is filled with light mist like gauze, which rises slowly and surrounds a small town with green bricks and tiles. A small path running from north to south is like a ribbon, crossing the river and then running through the entire town.

A ray of sunlight passed over the mountain and shone through the fog on the river. The fog filled the stone bridge by the river in the town, which was covered with thick moss.

A group of children were vying with each other to stand on a half-person-high sandy-yellow stone at the end of the bridge, on which were three typos.

"Blue Beef"

"Ah! I am the boss of Qingniu Country!"

A child climbed up the rocks with a wooden sword in his hand.

"I'm the!"

"I am! Don't fight me."

One child pulled the other down, and the three continued to fight.

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"Master, the breeze here is gentle and the air is filled with fairy air. It's really comfortable."

Li Xucheng, dressed in prison uniform, paused on the bridge, took a deep breath, and looked relaxed. "If I practice here, I can reach the foundation-building stage in fifty years."

"How many years does it usually take to refine Qi and build a foundation?"

Zhang Mingxuan walked across the small bridge.

"In Taicang, if a child is gifted, his spiritual roots will grow in ten years. If he starts practicing at the age of sixteen, he can improve his cultivation by one level in three to five years at the least, or seventeen to eighteen years at the most."

"Is the difference so big?"

"Master, you don't know that different spiritual roots lead to different speeds of improvement. Moreover, Taicang has no spiritual energy. I am only at the third level of Qi training. My father has been teaching me since I was eight years old. Now I am sixty-five, but I am only at the third level of Qi training."

"Then why did Wang Mingde only reach the fourth level of Qi Refining at the age of 180?"

"Wang Mingde's family all have cold spiritual roots, and their cultivation could have made rapid progress. However, they lack spiritual energy, spiritual stones, skills, methods, understanding, aptitude, spiritual medicine, good fortune, weapons, and most importantly, opportunities."

Li Xucheng rubbed his shoulders and strode to catch up with Zhang Mingxuan; "He is 180 years old, all thanks to the two cold fruits of Taicang. The frost peach grows on the corner of the iceberg, and the ice melon grows on the waist of the snow mountain. They are somewhat cold. Therefore, although his cultivation cannot be improved, he has maintained his lifespan with the help of the two cold fruits."

"Then how is this life span calculated?"

"According to common sense, as long as you break through the first level of Qi Refining, you will be able to live to the age of 100. After that, every additional level of cultivation will increase your lifespan by 10 years. If you cannot build a foundation within 200 years, there will be no hope of building a foundation. But if you succeed in building a foundation, each major realm can increase your lifespan by 100 years."

As they spoke, the two had already entered a wooden house tavern in Qingniu Town.

"The Mahayana cultivators recorded in the historical records of the Dihuang Dynasty had a lifespan of at least a thousand years."

After saying this, he sat down in the tavern.

This early morning, the tavern was empty.

"Where are you from, Mr. Second? Your attire may bring disaster."

A middle-aged man with a dark and thin face and modest manners was wiping the table of the two people enthusiastically, looking at them curiously, and asked at the same time.

"Thank you for reminding."

Zhang Mingxuan suddenly realized what was going on and hurriedly took off the dragon robe. Fortunately, it was early morning and the place seemed to be remote with few pedestrians.

"Can the store help us find some clothes that fit us? We'll pay you a fee."

Zhang Mingxuan threw the dragon robe to the ground. Under the dragon robe was a white shirt.

He bent down, rummaged in his socks, and took out a low-grade spirit stone.

When the middle-aged man saw the low-grade spirit stone, he suddenly looked horrified and knelt down on the ground. "I...I don't know an immortal...I can wear whatever I want...I shouldn't ask too much."

Zhang Mingxuan turned his head and glanced at Li Xucheng in surprise.

Are there still mortals in this upper world?

Li Xucheng also looked puzzled.

"It's okay, shop owner. I'm not an immortal." Zhang Mingxuan stood up from the stool and helped the middle-aged man up.

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