He had come into contact with several members of the Qiao family before, and now the Qiao family had saved his son Hai Siyuan from the vast desert at the cost of their own lives, allowing him to be reunited with his parents and children in his old age. Naturally, his favorability towards the Qiao family had doubled.
But besides gratitude, he was actually more curious.
He was very curious about what the Qiao family would do in the future, and always felt that sooner or later they would cause other big events.
What are your plans for the future
This question stumped Qiumu.
"I haven't been able to enjoy the past two hundred years. Most of my memories so far are of hard training..." Qiao Mu looked at the five thousand taels of silver in his hand, feeling a little tired.
Having just come out of five years of quarantine, he now just wants to have some fun.
He has died so many times and practiced hard for more than two hundred years, so can't he just enjoy himself
"I plan to buy a few of his houses in the suburbs of the imperial capital and become a landlord to collect rent..." Qiao Mu said casually.
Hai Wuya and his son were both slightly stunned.
He didn't expect Qiumu's future plans to be so... ordinary
This is totally unlike the Qiao family's usual style.
If Qiao Mu said that he was going to rush to the Imperial Palace tomorrow, the Taoist temple the day after tomorrow, and the Daoist sect the day after tomorrow... they would not be surprised.
"What else can I do? I'm old." Qiao Mu felt a little melancholy.
Before he had the chance to enjoy life, he had already grown old.
Fortunately, his iron crotch skills have reached the pinnacle, and he can be said to be getting stronger with age.
"It's not bad to be a rich man and enjoy life."
Qiao Mu left with the silver bills.
Next, Hai Wuya was about to leave the imperial capital for Anxi Pass, and he and Hai Siyuan, the sea captain, had not seen each other for forty years. Qiao Mu was also quite considerate, so naturally he wanted to leave some time for the father and son to spend together.
As soon as Qiao Mu left, Hai Wuya looked at his departing back with a strange look in his eyes.
"I never thought that the Qiao family would take the initiative to spread the "Sumeru Mountain King Sutra" in the lonely city in the desert. It coincides with my own ideas."
Hai Wuya coughed lightly a few times, and a faint sickly flush appeared on his face.
During this period of time, he had listened to Hai Siyuan talk about the past forty years of lonely city many times, listened to him talk about the death of the Qiao family, and also talked about the stunning style of Jian Zexian, which made him feel quite emotional.
"Father, the gap between immortals and mortals is like a chasm. Do warriors like me really have any hope?" Hai Siyuan finally asked the question.
Although he walked out of the lonely city in the desert, after the joy of surviving the disaster, he felt more disappointed when he saw the current state of Kyushu.
"The gap between immortals and mortals is naturally huge, this is an indisputable fact." Hai Wuya sighed:
"Those who have spiritual roots and can embark on the path to immortality are elites and geniuses picked from thousands of miles away, and those with excellent spiritual roots are the elite among the elites."
"To ordinary warriors like us, any immortal cultivator who has successfully built a foundation is an elite."
The lifespan of immortal monks is very long, which is beyond the reach of warriors.
Historically, the dynasties on earth have not lasted more than three hundred years, but the immortal monks with profound cultivation often have hundreds or even thousands of years of accumulation. It would be a strange thing if they could be easily killed by warriors.
"But because of this, the number of immortal monks is not too large." Hai Wuya said:
"It seems like a lot, but in fact it is because these are the elites and outstanding people accumulated over hundreds and thousands of years of Kyushu history, from the previous dynasty to the present."
"In today's age, although the number of immortal cultivators is not decreasing with each death, it still takes a long time to cultivate a successful cultivator."
Speaking of this, Hai Wuya also looked a little sad.
The smartest and most gifted people in Kyushu, those with spiritual roots, have basically all embarked on the path of immortality. There are not many fools who are willing to hang themselves on the crooked tree of martial arts.
Those who can embark on the path to immortality are already elites, and the best among them are the elites among the elites. Why should they stand on the same side as mortals
Even for a genius like Jian Zexian, a leader in martial arts... In fact, his hope of catching up with the nine great sects in the way of immortality is extremely slim.
Even if he could succeed, it would take a thousand or even tens of thousands of years.
A thousand years can allow mortal dynasties to change three or four times. Even if he can succeed, Da Yan will be gone long ago... .
Moreover, as a casual cultivator from a side sect, without any incense or offerings, how can I compare with the nine major immortal sects
"Although Jian Zexian is strong, he is not a martial saint." Hai Wuya said calmly:
"His Heaven-Slashing Sword Technique can only be considered an 'art', not a 'Tao'."
It’s like in a poor and weak small country, a talented sprinter appears by chance and breaks the world record in one fell swoop.
Does this mean that this small country's sprinting is already at the world's top level
Other athletes from small countries, without his talent, would find it difficult to replicate his great achievements.
People like the Martial Saint are not only top athletes but also coaches. In Hai Wuya's opinion, only those who can train first-class or even top athletes can represent the forefront of martial arts.
"You have been trapped in the lonely city for forty years. You have spent all your energy on survival and fighting against aliens. You have no energy or ability to explore the martial arts." Hai Wuya said solemnly:
"The Qiao family didn't lie completely. In the past forty years, Kyushu martial arts have undergone tremendous changes. There are already ancient and modern methods."
From the perspective of martial arts alone, the old soldiers in the isolated city who have not been out of action for forty years have actually fallen behind.
Even if there is a banished swordsman in the vast desert, he cannot represent the forefront of today's martial arts.
This time when Hai Wuya went to Anxi Pass, he wanted to do more than just pay tribute to the dead.
I also want to see with my own eyes these 300 old soldiers and the disabled old men who cannot go to the battlefield.
The extremely harsh environment of the Hundred Miles Desert is a "soul-nurturing place" carefully created by the immortals, and it can also be regarded as a "holy place for refining spirits" for warriors.
But if a warrior wants to improve his martial arts, he needs a lot of nourishing food... The old soldier who can survive hundreds of battles in that environment must be extraordinary.
/
Chapter 225 The Qiao Family Has Gained Strength (4k
At the gate of a house on the outskirts of the imperial capital.
The sun shines down, and occasionally there is a breeze, the shadows of the trees dance, and the leaves rustle.
An old man with long gray hair almost reaching his waist was lying on a recliner under a tree to enjoy the cool air. He was fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan and half-closed his eyes, seeming a little sleepy.
A round-faced, mottled cat was also dozing off on the treetop. However, this cat was a little fat, and if it stayed there a little too long, it would cause the branch to deform and bend, and then it would fall directly from the tree and hit the face of the old man on the reclining chair.
The old man didn't even open his eyes, as if he had foreseen the future. He casually stretched out his hand and held the cat steadily in one hand, holding it in his arms. He then gently scratched the cat's chin, making the little cat feel comfortable and squint its eyes like the old man.
"It's a rare opportunity to have a little rest from this busy life, and to have some peace and quiet."
Qiao Mu was casually lying on the recliner, his half-closed eyes occasionally glancing at the passers-by.
In the morning I ascend the emperor's hall, and in the evening I become a farmer.
A few days ago, he was still chatting and laughing in the Golden Palace, pointing at the emperor's nose and cursing, seeking fame for the old and disabled people in the lonely city.
After finishing the job, he just left, bought a house in the suburbs of the imperial capital, and started living a retirement life.
Although Qiao Mu feels that he is still young, he is already 210 years old. In ancient times, this number is enough for a person to live from the early years to the late years of a dynasty.
There is no one older than him in the entire world, and even those who are half his age are quite rare.
The only ones who could be compared with him in age were the immortal cultivators from the Immortal Sect.
"Life in retirement isn't bad at all." Qiao Mu fanned himself with a palm-leaf fan, feeling quite comfortable.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
It was almost dusk. Smoke was rising from the neighbors' houses on both sides, and the aroma of food filled the air. Children playing on the roadside were called home by their parents, and there were fewer and fewer pedestrians on the street.
A warrior's eyes, ears and five senses are very sharp, especially a warrior like Qiao Mu who has broken the conventions in the way of training strength and has acquired profound skills for two hundred years.
He could hear the voices of a couple in the house on the left, calling their children to eat, a scholar reading in a house on the right, a woman using a feather duster to discipline her child who came home late from playing and missed dinner, and a couple arguing in another house, complaining about the drunkard husband drinking during the day... .
Thousands of lights and smoke rising from cooking fires, another day of firewood, rice, oil and salt.
After coming to this world, he rarely has such free time.
In the past he was in a hurry to die, and would go wherever there was danger. He spent more time in prison than eating farm food.
This time, all I could see and hear were the lights of thousands of homes around me, which was quite a different experience.
Seeing that it was getting late, Qiao Mu got up and went back to his house with the cat in one hand.
This house is a quadrangle courtyard commonly seen in the imperial capital. The layout of the entrance hall is about 70% similar to the old Fang family house where Qiao Mu had stayed for a short time. It reminds him of his short-term residence in the imperial capital.
Looking at the empty house, Qiao Mu also felt a little lonely.
He didn't go to the kitchen to prepare some food for himself, but instead looked at himself in the mirror in the living room for a long time.
The self in the mirror looked as old as ever. After entering the stage of spiritual cultivation and mastering the true transformation of flesh and blood, Qiao Mu could change his appearance to a certain extent.
Although it is not possible to achieve rejuvenation, it can improve wrinkles and other problems.
But Qiao Mu has not changed, he just maintains his current aging appearance.
"In my two hundred years of life, I spent most of it practicing martial arts in my dreams, and a small part of it living in reality... But in reality, I am either dying or on the way to death. I am always dying in a hurry for other people's affairs."
"In the end, I am old, but no one recognizes me, and I have no old friends. I see the lights of thousands of houses, but I am old alone..."
"What the hell is this cheat code? Why is it so complicated? Wouldn't it be better to have a simple and pleasant sign-in system?"
Qiumu couldn't help but complain.
A few days ago in the Golden Palace, I was just acting recklessly out of habit.
In fact, he has not yet come out of the five-year isolation life.
He had developed the habit of talking to himself in his dreams, and he did the same now that he was back in reality.
A warm, furry little thing rubbed against his trouser leg at his feet. Qiao Mu looked down and saw the little fat cat staring at him.
"Yes, yes, yes. I have no old friends or acquaintances, but I still have a cat as a companion." Qiao Mu whispered:
"But cats can't replace people."
The cat's pupils dilated and it wagged its tail, looking a little dazed.
After learning the truth about the Ouroboros Immortality Lock, I looked back on my life and had a different feeling.
Every time he died, Qiao Mu would be reborn and age, and appear in a different identity, bearing the name of an elder of the Qiao family.
So he doesn't have any old friends.
For example, the person who was familiar with Hai Wuya in prison was Qiao Zhong, but when Qiao Mu reappeared as Qiao Shuanglin, although he could find an excuse to teach Hai Wuya the deduced and improved "Sumeru Mountain King Sutra" again in the clinic, the relationship between the two sides no longer felt right.
For example, Qiao Shui today... to Hai Wuya and Hai Duwei, he is just a strange elder from the family who they used to know, nothing more.
He kept dying and changing his identities. There were no familiar people around him. Even if there were, they would become strange elders after his next death.
Qiao Mu didn't look at the mirror again, but he had no interest in cooking alone.
He thought for a moment, changed into casual clothes, and walked out of the house.
He had lived in the imperial capital a few months ago, and he probably had some unfinished business. Now that he had nothing to do, he might as well find something to do.
..
A moment later, he arrived at the Caishikou of the imperial capital.
Caishikou was still very busy even at nightfall, with constant flow of people passing by.
A few months ago, there was a man-made disaster here, and the place was involved in a fight between immortal monks. However, all traces have been erased, and the collapsed teahouse has been rebuilt and is bustling with activity.
Qiao Mu went to the execution ground where he had been executed in the past and saw several unfamiliar heads hanging on wooden stakes... Qiao Zhong was not among them.
Death row prisoners who committed heinous crimes cannot rest in peace even after being executed, as their heads have to be hung at the Caishikou for public display.
Qiao Mu was once one of them, but he is no longer there now.
"That's right. It's been several months. Even if my head has been embalmed, I'm afraid it won't last that long." Qiao Mu suddenly lost interest.
Before he left the imperial capital, he went to Caishikou to get his head back, but he was stopped by Daozhen, a disciple of Da Dao Sect, who tricked him into going to an isolated city in the vast desert.
He took a step forward and walked away along the street.
A quarter of an hour later, when he stopped again, he was already in the Fang family's old house.
The Fang Family's old house was the residence of Fang Yuan, the jailer of the Heavenly Prison, and Qiao Mu once lived in his house temporarily...
It was already night, but there were no lights on in the old house. It was completely silent and there was no sound of human voice.
Qiao Mu frowned. With his current identity, it was not very convenient for him to contact the former jailer Fang Yuan again. However, he was bored and wanted to take a look at him from afar.