Cultivation of immortality begins with an eighty-year-old eunuch.

Chapter 664 Batu! The Life of an Ordinary Person.

They raise sheep, cattle, and horses, and every spring and autumn they drive their livestock to graze on the grasslands, living by the water and grass.

Batu led Chen Fan to the empty tent, lifted the curtain, and let him inside for a look. The tent wasn't large, but it was quite clean. Three layers of sheepskin rugs were laid on the ground, and a low table and several ceramic bowls were placed in the corner. The chimney on the top of the tent provided good ventilation, and there was no musty smell in the air.

Outside the tent, there was a small fence containing three skinny sheep and a calf.

"This tent used to be where my younger brother lived. He fell ill the winter before last and didn't make it," Batu said calmly. "If you don't mind, you can stay here. I'll have someone bring a few more sheep over tomorrow."

"Thank you." Chen Fan's voice remained calm, but his tone lacked the usual coldness.

Batu patted him on the shoulder, then turned and left.

After walking a few steps, he turned back and said, "By the way, come to my tent for dinner tonight. My wife has stewed mutton, and there's plenty of wine."

Chen Fan stood in front of the tent, watching Batu's figure gradually disappear into the distance. He then looked down at the three thin sheep and a calf outside the tent, remaining calm.

The cicada gently fluttered its wings inside the sleeve, emitting a very faint buzzing sound, as if it too was curious about this unfamiliar place.

The next morning, before dawn, Chen Fan was awakened by the bleating of sheep outside his tent.

He pushed open the tent flap, and the morning light was rising from the east, dyeing the entire grassland a pale gold. The herders in the tribe were already up and busy. The men were milking the sheep and feeding them hay in the enclosure, while the women were cooking over a fire in front of the tents. Several teenagers were chasing and playing between the tents, their laughter ringing out.

Batu led a ewe and two lambs to Chen Fan's tent, put the reins in his hand, and taught him how to feed the sheep, how to milk them, and how to tell if the sheep were sick.

Chen Fan listened attentively without the slightest impatience. He had served as a eunuch in the palace for decades and had done countless tasks of serving people, but serving sheep was a first for him.

After that, Chen Fan settled down in this nameless tribe.

During the day, he would drive his cattle and sheep to graze by the lake. The sheep would scatter on the grassland and graze with their heads down. He would then sit cross-legged on the blue stone by the lake and stare blankly at the shimmering water.

In the evening, after herding the sheep back to the pen and counting them to make sure the number was correct, they went to Batu's tent for dinner.

Batu's wife was a good cook; the mutton stew was tender and the sheep's milk wine was strong. After meals, Chen Fan would sometimes help the elders of the tribe chop firewood, sometimes sit on the grass in front of the tent to look at the stars, and occasionally chat with Batu about the past on the grassland.

Life was uneventful, day after day.

The once skinny calf gradually grew stronger under his care, its round belly jiggling as it walked.

The three skinny sheep have also gotten fatter, and their wool has turned from withered yellow to grayish white.

Chen Fan even learned to ride a horse.

Batu gave him an old horse, gray in color, with slightly clumsy legs, but gentle in nature.

Chen Fan named the old horse Gray Mane.

One evening, as he was herding his sheep around the pen and chopping wood in front of his tent, Batu sauntered over carrying a jug of sheep's milk wine and sat down on a wooden stake next to him.

"Chen Fan, you've been here for about ten days, haven't you?" Batu took a swig of wine and handed him the wine jug.

Chen Fan took the wine jug and took a sip as well.

The goat milk wine was sour, astringent, and spicy at first, with a strong aftertaste, but it became quite palatable once you got used to it. He nodded without saying anything more.

Batu gazed at the setting sun sinking into the grassland on the distant horizon and suddenly spoke: "I visited the City of Ten Thousand Gu when I was young. It was a huge place, with walls so high you couldn't see the top. The city was full of strange people who raised insects, each one eerie and frightening to look at. But what I can't forget is not those strange people."

Chen Fan turned to look at him.

"It was a woman." Batu grinned, a hint of youthful embarrassment in his smile. "I was selling sheepskins at the market in the south of the city when she came out of the teahouse over there. She was wearing a dark green dress, and her hair was as black as a raven's feathers. I only glanced at her once, and I can't forget it. Later, I stayed in that city for three months, sitting in front of that teahouse every day, just wanting to see her one more time. But she never appeared again."

He picked up the wine jug and took another big gulp, wiping his mouth with his sleeve: "Later, I went back to the grasslands. After I came back, I married a wife, had children, and herded sheep for half my life. But sometimes I still think of that woman, and that city. Tell me, what is the point of life?"

Chen Fan held the wine pot but did not respond.

Batu didn't wait for his reply, but patted him on the shoulder and stood up: "Get some rest, we have to herd the sheep to the pastures to the north tomorrow."

Chen Fan sat on the grass in front of the tent, watching Batu's swaying figure disappear behind the tent flap, and then looked down at the wine pot in his hand.

He remembered the little girl named Naren, the purple wildflower she had given him, and the words she had spoken.

I hope you can get there soon.

At that moment, Chen Fan suddenly felt something he hadn't felt in a long time.

That wasn't a breakthrough in spiritual power, nor was it an elevation of artistic conception; rather, it was a more fundamental feeling that he had long forgotten.

In this nameless tribe, no one knew that he was a top-ranking official of the Zhao Kingdom, no one knew that he was a genius who excelled in both alchemy and formations, and no one knew that he had once slain Li Jiuyuan, slaughtered the Black Reef Island, and fought Song Tianren.

All they knew was that he was a stranger from afar, an ordinary man who didn't talk much but worked diligently.

This feeling gradually filled the void in Chen Fan's heart.

The concepts of cause and effect, life and death, and stillness are not truly lacking in core, but rather he has always tried to comprehend them in the way of a cultivator, but has never experienced them in the way of a mortal.

Cause and effect are not just about locking and hitting the target in sword intent, but also about the mundane routine of raising sheep and chopping wood day after day, and Batu's smile when he talks about the woman in the dark green dress.

Life and death are not just about the fighting and struggle in battle, but also the light in the eyes of the little girl named Naren when she talks about her brother, and the serenity of the elders in the tribe as they sleep peacefully by the campfire.

And "fixed" is not the cold precision of word techniques and spells, but something more simple.

In this rhythm of working at sunrise and resting at sunset, amidst the bleating of sheep and the sour taste of sheep's milk wine, and under the starry sky that can be seen when you look up at night, Chen Fan felt for the first time that he no longer needed to chase anything.

But this feeling wasn't strong enough; it was missing one last thing.

Chen Fan drank the last drop of wine from the flask, stood up, and returned to his tent.

He decided to stay a few more days.