Slag Shou Cultivating Manual - Chapter 125: Jiang Hanzheng · You Are My Days and Nights

Chapter 125: Jiang Hanzheng · You Are My Days and Nights

That day, in order to leave the world in a justified manner, He Lang used Jiang Hanzheng’s tribulation to draw the heavenly lightning onto himself, successfully ending his life and escaping. Back then, he had considered that his young disciple would grieve and fall into despair for a time, but he believed that Jiang was still young, and time would gradually heal his pain.

What he didn’t anticipate was that on the day of his departure, Jiang Hanzheng lost both his master and his beloved. Overcome with sorrow, his hair turned white overnight. He stayed where he was for three months, unwilling to leave. Eventually, he returned to their former cave residence and began a century-long retreat.

Jiang Hanzheng, utterly broken, spent the century in seclusion to heal and to escape. While cultivating, he fell into inner demons and spent years sorting out his emotions. Only after emerging did he regain the demeanor of a normal person.

The once-innocent, diligent boy seemed to have undergone a millennium of tempering, transforming rapidly into a calm, enigmatic youth who rarely smiled.

The colorful clothing he once favored was now replaced by an outfit resembling his master’s. However, his white robes and white hair did not carry the same elegance and purity as his master’s. Instead, a chilling aura surrounded him—something he never possessed before.

Outside the cave, the spiritual grass withered and regrew. New disciples came in waves. Days turned into nights, and the immortal cultivation years flew by in a blink.

Even though his tribulation had failed, Jiang Hanzheng’s cultivation level remained far beyond the reach of ordinary juniors. With his formidable strength, he naturally earned the sect leader’s favor. Surpassing his master, he became the youngest immortal of Tianshan.

When he finally achieved success and gained the qualifications to take in disciples, he couldn’t help but recall how recklessly he had climbed Tianshan in his youth, how fortunate he was to encounter his master, and how, under his master’s care, he transformed from a weak, ordinary individual into someone revered by all. As these memories flooded his mind, he found himself unable to focus on taking on new disciples.

The faces before him were fresh and lively, youthful and tender. If his master were reincarnated, surely he would be as vibrant as they were now.

With this thought, Jiang Hanzheng abruptly resigned from his position, dedicating himself to researching reincarnation and soul-tracking techniques. After enduring countless trials, he eventually located a suitable family.

…

In this life, He Lang was born into a well-off but ordinary family. They weren’t excessively wealthy, but they also didn’t need to worry about basic needs. Their comfortable living conditions allowed him the leisure to enjoy life, indulging in poetry, painting, and other refined pastimes.

The first time Jiang Hanzheng saw him, he instantly recognized him as the one he was searching for. The resentment he had held toward the heavens dissolved. So, it turned out that the heavens hadn’t completely forsaken him.

At sixteen or seventeen years old, the young man was elegant and charming, his brows and eyes just as before. This was the youthful period Jiang Hanzheng had missed. Yet, after so many twists and turns, the uncertainties of life had granted him the chance to participate this time.

No matter how much he had trained his temperament over the years to remain steady, Jiang Hanzheng couldn’t resist the urge to rush forward and take him back to Tianshan.

But to He Lang’s reincarnation, Jiang Hanzheng was a strange and mysterious outsider. Moreover, after so many years of change, he was no longer the obedient and endearing disciple of the past. With his white hair and chilling aura, how could he avoid startling this reincarnation?

Jiang Hanzheng restrained himself and simply stayed by his side, as if just watching his graceful figure was enough.

From then on, matters of cultivation and the sect were entirely forgotten. He settled among mortals, living as they did, working by day and resting by night. He followed He Lang through the streets and alleys, watching lanterns and admiring the solitary moon. It felt as though he had truly become a part of He Lang’s life, accompanying and understanding him.

Even though they hadn’t reunited, Jiang Hanzheng’s long-empty heart was still content with this secret affection.

Until one day, the figure he had been silently watching suddenly turned around, stepping out of the dull crowd and walking straight toward him. With a smile in his eyes, He Lang lightly tapped Jiang Hanzheng’s head with his folding fan and asked, “Have you followed me enough?”

“I—” Jiang Hanzheng was at a loss for words and could only shake his head. His heart raced as he regretted losing focus for a moment because of that fleeting smile, thus exposing his presence.

He Lang pursed his lips, studying the shockingly white hair before him. His heart tightened slightly, and his tone softened unconsciously. “Fool. I waited three months for you to speak to me, but you just stood there quietly for three months. Your patience truly knows no bounds.”

Jiang Hanzheng widened his eyes slightly, clearly not expecting He Lang to speak to him so familiarly, as if no time had passed between them.

“Master? Is this your reincarnation? Did you not drink the Soup of Forgetfulness?” Jiang Hanzheng’s voice was dry, his words stumbling.

He Lang chuckled softly. Seeing passersby glance their way, he quickly took Jiang Hanzheng’s hand and led him away. Their hands clasped tightly, and He Lang warmed Jiang’s icy palm as he muttered with a hint of frustration, “I drank several bowls, yet I still couldn’t forget you. Even in my next life, I remembered you. So, what should I do?”

This playful declaration struck Jiang Hanzheng like a thunderclap. His heart pounded wildly, and he covered his lips with his hand, unsure whether he was suppressing a smile or genuinely stunned.

Like love-struck youths, they strolled hand-in-hand along a quiet lakeshore, saying nothing, simply enjoying the breeze stirring the grass. Their hearts at peace, they spent the afternoon together without tiring.

When it was time for He Lang to return home, restricted by his parents, he reluctantly withdrew his hand, signaling his intent to leave.

Jiang Hanzheng, unwilling to part, grasped the edge of He Lang’s clothing and followed him home, boldly entering his household.

Thanks to his status as a cultivator, He Lang’s family was overjoyed at his presence. They welcomed Jiang Hanzheng as an honored guest, calling him an immortal and treating him with the utmost reverence.

Although such flattery was typical when cultivators mingled with mortals, Jiang Hanzheng relished the reversal of roles. With a faint smile, he ignored formalities and openly embraced He Lang, declaring to his family that he had chosen He Lang as a promising student to take back to Tianshan.

Hearing that their son had caught the attention of such a prestigious sect, the family immediately agreed, showering Jiang Hanzheng with gratitude and urging him to take He Lang away.

Although He Lang didn’t oppose returning with Jiang Hanzheng, he couldn’t help feeling a twinge of melancholy at how readily his family handed him over, as though he were a burden.

Jiang Hanzheng, understanding He Lang’s thoughts, offered no comfort. Instead, he was inwardly delighted. “Master, you see, in this world, only I remain truly devoted to you. Even your family in this life cannot compare to my unwavering sincerity, can they?”

He Lang glanced at him without a word, while Jiang Hanzheng smirked with satisfaction.

Back at the cave residence, their true home, the roles were reversed from a century ago—now Jiang Hanzheng was the master, and He Lang the disciple.

Watching his once-disciple bask in the adoration of others, He Lang felt no jealousy, only pride. This was the young man he had nurtured, deserving of such recognition.

Jiang Hanzheng, unable to resist, tilted He Lang’s chin and kissed him. “After failing my tribulation, I fell into inner demons and stagnated. My path to immortality is lost. Will you be disappointed in me?” He held He Lang tightly, his voice low.

He Lang shook his head and leaned against Jiang Hanzheng, a serene smile on his face. “At this point, immortality no longer matters. Besides, what’s so great about living forever? It’s dull.”

He Lang, now free-spirited, had no intention of wasting time on cultivation. His only reason for returning to Tianshan was to be with Jiang Hanzheng.

Jiang Hanzheng sighed in relief, holding his hand tightly. “The longer we live, the more time we’ll have together.”

“Then should I start cultivating again to achieve immortality and stay with you longer?” He Lang teased, lying in Jiang Hanzheng’s arms, gazing into his eyes filled with affection.

As they whispered sweetly to each other, Jiang Hanzheng’s soft words resonated deeply with He Lang.

“For the fleeting world of three thousand, my love is but the sun, the moon, and you. The sun for dawn, the moon for dusk, and you for all my days and nights.”