Gu An observed An Hao as he received guidance from a Free Immortal—the very Sacred Ancestor of the Sacred Court!
Through his insight into cause and effect, Gu An uncovered the exchanges between An Hao and the Sacred Ancestor.
The Sacred Ancestor intended to nurture An Hao as the next Divine Sovereign, yet An Hao refused. Nevertheless, the Sacred Ancestor insisted on imparting his teachings, regardless of whether An Hao accepted the mantle of Divine Sovereign.
Gu An couldn't help but marvel at An Hao's extraordinary fortune.
From the first time he met An Hao, Gu An had felt an inexplicable urge to help him, drawn to the young man in an unexplainable way.
Since embarking on his immortal path, An Hao had consistently formed more alliances than enmities, which greatly contributed to his smooth progress.
Even after joining the Immortal Dynasty, An Hao managed to secure a supreme inheritance from its archenemy, the Sacred Court. Gu An couldn't believe An Hao wasn't a child of the Heavenly Dao itself.
Though he felt astonished, Gu An remained protective of his treasured disciple.
Carefully deducing the situation, he confirmed the Sacred Ancestor held no intent to harm An Hao and only then felt reassured.
Retracting his divine sense, Gu An resumed his conversation with Ji Xiaoya.
After decades of silent estrangement, Ji Xiaoya now seemed determined to pour out every word she'd kept bottled up. Gu An, ever the conversationalist, effortlessly encouraged her enthusiasm, and before long, her laughter became constant.
Meanwhile, within the Dao Domain of the Sacred Court…
Beside a misty lake, the Sacred Ancestor sat cross-legged on a rounded stone. His eyes opened, gazing at An Hao's figure, faintly visible on the lake's surface. A frown creased his brow.
"Strange… why this sudden unease?"
The Sacred Ancestor was puzzled. Since attaining the Free Immortal Realm, he hadn't experienced such restlessness.
With his vast power, he could see the past and future of all things. Even against an invincible foe, he remained confident in his ability to escape unscathed.
Put simply, unless his time was up, his death was an impossibility.
Given such unassailable strength, why would he feel inexplicably uneasy?
The Sacred Ancestor pondered as his gaze lingered on An Hao, a glimmer of expectation in his eyes.
"The world grows ever more treacherous. There are more and more people and events beyond prediction. Meanwhile, external threats like the Heavenly Demons continue to loom. Even the might of a Free Immortal may only delay the inevitable.
"This child's talent is unparalleled throughout the ages, rivaling even Divine Sovereign. Reviewing his past, he has always encountered extraordinary mentors, including that mysterious Sacred Sword as his master. Only he has the potential to resolve the ancient, unyielding grievances of the Heavenly Spirit Grand Heavens…"
The Sacred Ancestor's gaze grew brighter.
From the moment he first saw An Hao, he had been drawn to him.
This attraction was instinctive. Even a Free Immortal like the Sacred Ancestor was not immune, though this "attraction" merely evoked a sense of goodwill without clouding his judgment. If An Hao were to offend him, the Sacred Ancestor wouldn't hesitate to act ruthlessly.
The Sacred Ancestor valued An Hao because he saw him as a bearer of great fortune.
In his lifetime, the Sacred Ancestor had encountered only one other such individual over twenty million years ago—a figure he deeply revered. Tragically, he had no idea if that person was still alive.
As his thoughts drifted to the distant past, the Sacred Ancestor's eyes grew misty, conjuring a hazy figure from his memories.
Several days later, Gu An visited the main sect city in search of Li Ya. The two spent an entire day and night drinking heavily.
As expected, Li Ya felt far more at ease speaking freely when Ji Xiaoya wasn't present. Alone with Gu An, he finally let down his guard, sharing the struggles he'd faced over the years.
One particular matter troubled him deeply—his relationship with Li Xuandao.
For most of his life, Li Ya had believed his father held no affection for him, a sentiment that intensified after his mother's death.
Now, over five centuries old, Li Ya had suddenly discovered Li Xuandao cared for him deeply. His father had even sent messengers to invite him back to the palace. It was a revelation that left him profoundly conflicted.
"So now that I've made something of myself, he wants to reconcile? Not a chance! Didn't he already have a prodigy son to inherit his throne? Why bother me?" Li Ya grumbled, visibly upset.
Gu An wasn't sure how to console him.
The truth was, Li Xuandao's cultivation surpassed even Li Ya's. Moreover, the emperor had no intention of relinquishing the throne to anyone; he sought to reign eternally.
For this reason, Gu An suspected Li Xuandao's invitation might genuinely stem from familial affection.
However, relationships between fathers and sons were not something Gu An could interfere in.
After all, the strained dynamic between Lü Baitian and his son Lü Xian was even worse. Over the years, Lü Baitian had often visited Gu An, lamenting his regrets and frustrations regarding Lü Xian.
Watching Li Ya now, Gu An made a mental note never to have children. It simply seemed too troublesome.
Even imagining the turmoil between Long Zhan and Long Xin over cycles of lifetimes gave him a headache.
No matter how powerful one's cultivation, earning universal love was impossible. And when familial bonds were fractured, the resulting pain was immeasurable.
At least for Gu An, things were ideal as they were. Treating disciples like children had its advantages—they could be nurtured and guided without the burden of absolute responsibility. If a disciple sought death, he would help if possible, but otherwise, he could only grieve.
"Senior brother, do you know how Xiao Chuan spent his final hundred years?" Gu An suddenly asked.
Li Ya froze momentarily, clearly recalling Xiao Chuan. He frowned and asked, "Xiao Chuan… has he passed?"
Gu An nodded. "Yes. It happened many years ago. In his final days, he was entangled in family matters, which hindered his cultivation. Yet, he harbored no regrets and even found joy in it."
Li Ya frowned deeply.
Gu An sighed and said, "Blood is thicker than water—it's not just a saying. Think about it carefully. Has your father ever truly mistreated or suppressed you? At most, he didn't care for you as much, but that's hardly a crime deserving the severing of father-son ties, don't you think?"
"You're a renowned cultivator now, and every time you go out, it's for countless years. Sometimes, even I wonder if each time I see you might be the last. Maybe your father feels the same, fearing he'll leave with regrets."
Hearing this, Li Ya opened his mouth but ended up letting out a long sigh instead.
He knew Li Xuandao's talent was far from exceptional, as he was still only at the Nascent Soul Realm. Gu An's words held some truth.
The next time he left, it might be hundreds of years before he returned.
At that moment, Li Ya felt a deep loneliness and a pang of fear.
He feared that one day, far in the future, he'd be left alone in the world, with no family, no friends.
Looking at Gu An, Li Ya asked, "Junior Brother Gu, why don't you come to the Sacred Court with me to cultivate? I'll figure out a way to have you stay there."
His tone was firm. Throughout his life, he had met many people, but most were mere acquaintances bound by mutual interest.
Gu An was his first genuine friend. Before him, there had been Zhang Buku, but Zhang Buku had vanished, his fate uncertain.
The thought of Gu An meeting the same end—dying, even peacefully—filled Li Ya with a suffocating sadness.
"I'm not going," Gu An replied, shaking his head. "Going to the Sacred Court would just be asking for trouble. Don't overthink it, Senior Brother. Maybe I'll defy the odds and live a long life!" He laughed easily, his carefree demeanor only making Li Ya feel worse.
Why was it that someone as good as Junior Brother Gu was bound by talent, while someone as arrogant as An Hao could always have the last laugh?
To Li Ya, the heavens felt unbearably unfair.
"Forget it. Drink up!"
Gu An urged him with a grin, already imagining the scene thousands of years in the future when Li Ya discovered he was still alive.
Sorry, Senior Brother, but your Junior Brother here is definitely going to outlive everyone.
Li Ya stayed in Tai Xuan Sect for only a month before leaving. Gu An, eager to witness the drama, observed Li Ya's return to the royal city through his divine sense.
As he expected, the meeting between Li Ya and Li Xuandao was incredibly awkward. Even though Li Xuandao tried his best to smile, the tension between father and son couldn't be eased.
Still, the fact that they could sit down and talk was a promising start.
Notably, Li Ya's first encounter with his younger brother, Li Lingtian, was anything but pleasant.
The two fought almost immediately, and from then on, Li Lingtian added Li Ya to his list of targets to defeat.
Royal family affairs were absurdly complicated!
Gu An had thought so at the time.
By the year's end, Gu An witnessed yet another familial drama: the Ji family sought out Ji Xiaoya, attempting to bring her back into the family. However, she refused, and the situation became quite tense.
Unlike her previous life, Ji Xiaoya had grown much stronger this time, and her resolve was unshakable. The Ji family had no way to control her anymore.
Li Ya and Ji Xiaoya's experiences only further convinced Gu An that starting a family was not worth it.
At least not for now.
Gu An had yet to attain immortality and still had countless enemies to surpass. How could he afford to be entangled by familial bonds?
If he had family to begin with, he would of course protect them, but creating familial ties just to fulfill a personal longing seemed unnecessary.
As spring arrived, the cycle of seasons marked the start of a new year.
After days of lively celebrations, Gu An made his way alone to the Submerged Spirit Palace.
Over the years, the palace grounds had produced numerous low-grade spirit herbs, which allowed Gu An to gather a harvest each time he visited.
While collecting the herbs, he suddenly frowned.
"Here it comes again?"
He muttered to himself. In the Submerged Spirit Palace grounds, it was just him and his avatar. His avatar, of course, couldn't converse with him.
He was referring to a swift, elusive fish. The creature frequently approached the grounds, seemingly drawn to the place. Even when his avatar cast spells to drive it away, the fish never gave up.
In fact, the more it was chased, the more determined it seemed to return.
Gu An decided to teach the little fish a lesson.
Standing up, he walked to an open area. With a thought, a one-meter-long fish appeared before him, and he promptly stepped on it.
It was a golden fish resembling a koi, with scales that gleamed brighter than gold itself. Its beautiful, gem-like eyes stared up in astonishment.
[Deep Sea Dragon Koi (Body Fusion Realm, Second Stage): 8504/12000/15000]
Eight thousand five hundred years old, yet so small?
Gu An found it fascinating. Most monsters grew larger as their cultivation advanced.
Creatures like Tian Yao'er, Tianqing, and Tianbai all had enormous true forms.
The Deep Sea Dragon Koi thrashed wildly, but no matter how much it struggled, it couldn't escape Gu An's foot.
Under his suppression, it seemed to lose all its cultivation, barely moving and posing no threat to the nearby herbs.
Drawing the Azure Swan Sword, Gu An adopted a stance that made it clear he was ready to slice.
The Deep Sea Dragon Koi shut its eyes in terror, trembling uncontrollably.
Then Gu An noticed something surprising—it was crying. Its tears fell like tiny pearls, glittering as they hit the ground.
He couldn't help but laugh.
"Afraid now? Will you still dare to swim here?" he asked.
The Deep Sea Dragon Koi opened its eyes and shook its head furiously.
Gu An raised an eyebrow, hesitating. "But you've already discovered my grounds. If I let you go, who knows what trouble you might cause me in the future? Forget it—I'll just eat you. Steamed or grilled, what do you think?"
The Deep Sea Dragon Koi's eyes widened in terror, its tears streaming as if its life depended on it.