A useless person with five spiritual roots? I sacrificed the proud daughter of heaven.

His master told him this the day he decided to cultivate Taoism.

If you want to focus on cultivating the Tao, you must sever all worldly ties.

Cultivating immortality is inherently defying the heavens; if one forcibly entangles oneself with mortals, one will inevitably fall into an abyss of no return.

He was still young at the time and did not understand the meaning of his master's words.

All he knew was that Li Qingji had entered the sect at the age of six, established his foundation at ten, and formed his core at twenty, making him a cultivation prodigy who was a once-in-a-century talent.

He took it for granted that he was above all others.

Until that year, when he went down the mountain to gain experience, he met an ordinary person.

That's a girl.

Round eyes, a thin body, and a basket about half a person's height on her back.

During the two weeks he waited in the forest for monsters to appear, she would come to gather herbs every day.

When he was bored, he would stand on the treetop and watch her.

Watching her climb up the small hill, sweating profusely, just for a small piece of He Shou Wu that wasn't of very good quality.

She was overjoyed to find a small patch of Rehmannia glutinosa.

Watching her fill that basket slowly, day by day.

Later, he killed the monster with a single blow.

It was a young purple fox that usually fed on snakes and rats in the mountains; it wasn't a particularly dangerous or malevolent creature.

He shouldn't have wasted half a month on such a demonic beast.

Now that the demonic beasts have been eliminated, he should leave as soon as possible.

But for some reason, he wanted to stay another day.

Just one day.

Day after day.

He gradually lost control of his heart.

On an ordinary afternoon, he appeared before the girl, covered in wounds.

He said his name was Li Fan, and that he had accidentally angered a nobleman in the city, been beaten up, and fled here for his life.

fake.

The name is fake, and so is the injury.

Since Li Qingji reached the Foundation Establishment stage at the age of ten, he has never lost a match. He has encountered so many opponents, but none of them could hurt him.

But A-Zheng believed him, and she took him back to the village.

"Ah~ Zheng~"

Li Qingji repeated the name in his heart over and over again, and as the tone flowed on his tongue, a tingling sensation spread throughout his body.

Even he himself did not realize that he, who was always so arrogant, was stuttering and his ears turned red when he spoke to A-Zheng.

Li Qingji thought, he's finished.

Perhaps this is what mortals call fate.

Fate is unstoppable; it is the will of Heaven.

He completely forgot about worldly ties and eternal damnation.

He stayed in that village with A-Zheng.

Azheng is the only female doctor in the village. Although her parents have passed away, she has excellent medical skills.

If someone in the family has a headache or fever, if an elderly person is sick and can't get out of bed, or if a child has a high fever that won't go down for a long time, they will come to A-Zheng for help. She will always hurriedly shoulder her big basket and run out after them.

The villagers all liked Azheng very much. They knew that Azheng was an orphan who was busy going up the mountain to collect herbs every day. So, whenever it was mealtime, someone would invite Azheng to their home for a meal, or bring some of their own food to Azheng.

One month.

two months.

On his first New Year's Eve here, the villagers gathered together to stay up all night.

When the villagers once again jokingly asked Li Qingji, "When are you going to marry Azheng?"

He took out a light pink jade pendant from his pocket and stared intently at A-Zheng.

"Ah Zheng, marry me."

Ah Zheng blushed and nestled into her grandmother's arms, nodding gently.

The villagers burst into laughter.

So, in the spring of the following year, he and Azheng got married.

In this small village, Li Qingji was neither a young genius in the sect nor the eldest disciple on whom his master had placed high hopes.

He is Azheng's husband, a mortal man.

His name is Li Fan.

He seemed to genuinely believe his name was Li Fan.

In the tenth year that Li Fan stayed in Qingshui Village, his master sent him a telepathic message, saying that Li Qingji should return after a long period of training outside.

At that time, his daughter An'an was chasing her grandmother's big black dog all over the village with a stick.

Eight or nine years old is the age when even cats and dogs dislike them.

Li Fan smiled, picked up An'an, and handed her a small packet of forsythia seeds.

At night, he held Azheng in his arms, gently stroking her slightly protruding belly, and told her that he had to go out for a while and would be back soon.

“How soon is soon?”

An'an poked at the rice in her bowl, her wet eyes looking at him with reluctance.

He smiled and picked up An'an, then looked at his gentle wife, his resolve strengthened.

"I will come back when these seeds bloom."

A-Zheng didn't ask anything, but carefully tidied his bundle and stuffed it with lots and lots of dry food.

She said, "An'an and I are waiting for you at home."

Li Fan transformed into Li Qingji. As soon as he left Qingshui Village, he stuffed his bundle into his storage bag and flew back to his sect on his sword.

He thought it through.

He no longer became Li Qingji, nor did he practice Taoism.

He wants to go back to Qingshui Village and live a normal life.

His junior brothers and sisters looked at him as if he were a madman, and the elders looked at him with pity.

Only the master shook his head helplessly, accepted his disciple token, and told him that he would definitely regret it later.

Why would you regret it?

He has figured out what is most important to him, so why would he regret it?

He returned to Qingshui Village as quickly as he could.

At that time, he had been away from home for two months, and heavy snow began to fall.

An'an is most afraid of the cold.

When he passed through a small town, he stopped and bought a light yellow jacket for An'an and a butterfly-carved wooden comb for Azheng.

He carried the baby jacket and the wooden comb, and happily returned to Qingshui Village.

The fiery red sky reflected the ruins. The wooden stele at the village entrance, which was inscribed with "Qingshui Village," had been kicked over and lay crookedly to one side. The village was quiet; there were no children crying or villagers chatting.

There was no sound.

Only thick black smoke billowed from the thatched huts, swirling towards the clouds.

Grandma's big black dog lay on the charred corpses, whimpering in pain. Smelling the familiar scent, it stood up from the two corpses, one big and one small, grabbed Li Fan's trouser leg, and dragged him out with all its might.

Li Fan's eyes were glazed over. He casually waved his hand, and the big black dog was thrown heavily to the ground.

He could faintly hear the sound of wild beasts gnawing on bones, and he staggered over to it.

In his home, in his and Azheng's home.

A huge purple raccoon was holed up in the room, constantly gnawing on the corpses on the ground.

Upon hearing the sound, the purple raccoon raised its head and laughed eerily. Blood was still dripping from the corner of its mouth, but as if to deliberately provoke Li Fan, it lowered its head and bit the entire corpse into its mouth.

That's An'an.

Half of her body had been eaten by the purple raccoon. Her small hand hung limply in the air. A jade pendant fell from her bosom and shattered into dust on the ground.