Longevity: Comprehending the Heart Method

The group walked the entire way in silence.

Song Changxuan, who had already received word, came out to greet them. Seeing Song Qingxing’s youthful face, he was filled with a flood of emotions. ’The new generation truly does surpass the last, leaving the old one to die on the shore.’

He was quite young for his position, yet he had first been outshone by his peer, Song Changsheng, and now he was being completely upstaged by a nephew from the younger generation. It left him feeling mentally drained.

Mentally drained or not, Song Changxuan was filled with curiosity about this junior clansman. His narrow eyes sized the young man up and down.

It was, in fact, the first time the two had met. Song Changxuan had been guarding the Mortal Realm for the past few years, and Song Qingxing had only just begun to make a name for himself.

As an elder and a Cultivator of the same rank, he naturally wouldn’t be the one to greet first. Song Qingxi understood this and quickly tugged on the hem of Song Qingxing’s robe, saying, "This is Clan Uncle Changxuan, the Sixth Elder, and the guardian of the Mortal Realm."

The realization dawned on Song Qingxing. He gave a slight bow with cupped hands and addressed him as "Clan Uncle."

His posture was slightly clumsy and his tone was a bit stiff, but anyone who knew Song Qingxing’s past would know this was a rare effort on his part. Previously, he likely wouldn’t have even bothered to speak.

Song Changxuan himself wasn’t one to fuss over clan etiquette, so he paid it no mind. "The clan must really have people to spare," he said with a hearty laugh. "To think they’d send you in person just to test for a Spirit Root."

"There are quite a few children of the right age this year, and gathering them all won’t happen overnight. It’s already getting late. You’ve come a long way, so why not come to my estate to rest and allow me to show you some hospitality?"

Song Qingxing frowned at the suggestion and instinctively wanted to refuse. For one, he had always disliked crowded social occasions. For another, his role in this trip was just a formality; he had his own business to attend to.

Fortunately, Song Qingxi stopped him in time. Though she was two years younger than Song Qingxing, she was far more perceptive. It was no exaggeration to say she was leagues ahead of him when it came to social etiquette.

’Song Qingxing is a clan disciple, after all. As long as he doesn’t leave the clan, he can’t act like a lone wolf. He will inevitably have to deal with his fellow clansmen. No matter how uncomfortable it makes him, he has to learn to adapt.’

’Song Qingxing has been on the periphery for far too long. It didn’t matter much before, but now that he’s a clan Elder, he must integrate as quickly as possible.’

The group followed Song Changxuan to the Garrison Mansion. Ordinarily, his wives, concubines, and handmaidens would have likely swarmed him by now.

But with juniors present, Song Changxuan was on his rare best behavior. After arranging their accommodations, he ordered his servants to prepare a feast.

At the banquet, in addition to Song Qingxing and Song Changxuan’s group, the clan’s various Stewards stationed there were also present. Since they were all Cultivators of the same clan, everyone felt relaxed, and the atmosphere grew lively as cups were raised and toasts exchanged.

Only Song Qingxing felt as if ants were crawling all over him, completely ill at ease.

Fortunately, his cold, stern face practically screamed "stay away." Everyone, with the exception of Song Qingxi and Song Changxuan, consciously chose not to approach and disturb him; otherwise, he would have been even more uncomfortable.

Sitting at the head of the table, Song Changxuan saw this and smiled faintly. ’He’s a genius, no doubt, but he’s still lacking experience in certain respects. I hope he can learn to adapt over time. In this world, there are some things you simply have to engage with, whether you like it or not.’

’The Song Clan was able to rise from nothing and stand firm in Ling Province for centuries, never by relying on the strength of a single person. Some display their power for all to see, while others toil diligently behind the scenes. It is nothing more than a division of labor and cooperation.’

’To survive in this cruel world, the Song Clan Members must band together as one. Stubbornly remaining on the outside is not a path one can walk for long.’

Song Changxuan sincerely hoped Song Qingxing would come to understand this principle sooner rather than later.

「The next morning」

With the assistance of the Garrison Mansion, Song Changkang and Song Changyuan began to test the Spirit Roots of the city’s eligible children. But Song Qingxing and Song Qingxi, the leaders of the mission, had already arrived in another county town.

The Song Clan currently had nearly 700,000 Mortal Clan Members, spread evenly across seven cities. Due to their arrangement, the cities were named after the seven stars of the Big Dipper.

Song Changxuan’s Garrison Mansion was in Dubhe City, but the city they had come to now was Kaiyang City—Song Qingxing’s hometown.

After twelve years, setting foot on this familiar land once more, Song Qingxing felt a ripple of emotion in his heart.

In his childhood, his footsteps had traversed nearly every corner of Kaiyang City, and the memories remained incredibly clear to this day.

’The city looks the same as it always has, and yet... it feels completely different.’

Following the map in his memory, the pair arrived at the place where Song Qingxing had once lived. Staring at the property, which was now several times larger and boasted a grand, vermilion gate, Song Qingxing wondered for a moment if he had taken a wrong turn.

"This is your home in the Mortal Realm?" Song Qingxi asked, looking around with fascination. She had always been curious about the place where Song Qingxing grew up.

"I don’t... think so," Song Qingxing answered, his voice laced with uncertainty.

The Mortal Realm was populated by their own clan members, and the Song Clan naturally wouldn’t mistreat them. Because of this, the mortals led quite comfortable lives.

But wherever there are people, a hierarchy forms. In the Mortal Realm, possessing a Spirit Root was the mark of nobility. If a family produced a Cultivator, it was a matter of immense prestige, and their social standing would soar.

Song Qingxing’s family, however, hadn’t produced a Cultivator for several generations. Although they never worried about food or clothing, they were far from wealthy. The lavish courtyard before him was a world away from the "home" he remembered.