Chapter Thirteen: The Execution of the Immortal

The story begins with an ordinary boy named Zhang Xiaofan. By a twist of fate, a venerable monk from Tianyin Temple named Puzhi, on his deathbed, imparts to him the temple’s most secret and sacred teaching—the Great Brahma Prajna. In doing so, he hopes to fulfill his own lifelong dream of mastering both Buddhist and Daoist cultivation, transcending the cycle of life and death, through Zhang Xiaofan.

The listeners, upon hearing this, are filled with intense curiosity and anticipation.

“I can already picture the protagonist becoming invincible, unmatched in all of history!”

“Hurry up and tell us more, I’m dying to know what happens next—Zhang Xiaofan is clearly extraordinary.”

“Xiaofan’s playmates might be geniuses for now, but in the end, they’ll only serve as his foils.”

As Su Tong paused to sip some water, the audience seized the opportunity to flood the chat with their own speculations and animated discussions about the unfolding plot, thoroughly enjoying themselves.

The story, called “The Immortal Executioner,” had already been introduced by Su Tong. It is a classic xianxia tale, beautifully written, and even those who weren’t fans of the genre found themselves drawn in by Su Tong’s narration, especially if they were already fond of “Recalling the Beauty.”

“I think that today’s fast-paced stories need more than just rapid plot development—they need romance interwoven throughout, especially since we’re all young and full of longing,” Su Tong digressed briefly before continuing.

Later, the village of Caomiao is brutally massacred; only three survive: Zhang Xiaofan, Lin Jingyu—both still children—and an old woodsman named Uncle Wang. The Qingyun Sect on Qingyun Mountain, moved by compassion, takes them in. Lin Jingyu, exceptionally gifted, is accepted as a disciple by Cang Song, the master of Dragon Head Peak.

In contrast, Zhang Xiaofan, honest and unassuming, with only average aptitude and little appeal, is left unwanted. In the end, Tian Buyi, the head of Big Bamboo Peak, reluctantly takes him as a disciple.

After joining Qingyun, Lin Jingyu advances swiftly in his cultivation, full of pride, soon earning Cang Song’s true teachings and receiving the “Dragon-Slaying Sword.” Zhang Xiaofan, caught between Buddhist and Daoist cultivation, makes little progress. His master and fellow disciples quickly lose hope in him, relegating him to kitchen duties—though his culinary skills are at least praiseworthy.

Tian Ling’er, Tian Buyi’s daughter, is Zhang Xiaofan’s close childhood companion. Over time, Zhang Xiaofan develops a secret affection for her. However, Tian Ling’er, unable to appreciate his simple nature, regards him only as a younger brother, her heart drawn instead to Qi Hao, the talented and handsome senior from Dragon Head Peak.

“Oh, this is so frustrating! Brother, when will Xiaofan finally shine? And isn’t Tian Ling’er supposed to be the main heroine? How could she like someone else? Unforgivable!”

“Yes, seeing Lin Jingyu excel like that—even though he’s good to Xiaofan—I still feel uneasy. Xiaofan is our true protagonist, not Lin Jingyu.”

“Brother, will Tian Ling’er ever fall for Xiaofan in the end?”

“Hmph, forget it, brother. She missed her chance. One day she’ll regret it for not seeing Xiaofan’s worth.”

The audience poured out their feelings in the chat.

Su Tong stopped at chapter eighteen for the night. The revelation that Tian Ling’er admired a disciple from another branch stirred the crowd’s indignation. Some even refused to accept the pause, urging Su Tong to continue without stopping.

“My throat is parched—if I keep going, I’ll lose my voice. The story has only just begun; even I don’t know where the plot will lead. It’s like fate—though it’s in your hands, you never know what awaits,” Su Tong fibbed. In truth, he already had the entire story from the system, but he wouldn’t alter the plot, only tweaking some lines for smoother storytelling.

In his previous life, like most readers, Su Tong found that while Xiao Ding’s “The Immortal Executioner” was beautifully written, the real draw wasn’t the plot, but the tangled web of emotions within.

“Ha, that’s all for tonight, but I can give you a tiny spoiler.” Taking a sip of water passed by Xiaoyu, Su Tong grinned: “I’ve created a beauty ranking for this novel, a top ten list. Although only two have appeared so far, I’ve already made up my mind. Who do you think Tian Ling’er ranks among them?”

“Wow, a beauty ranking!”

“Wait, two of them have shown up already?”

“One’s Tian Ling’er, but who’s the other? Wen Min from Little Bamboo Peak? She doesn’t seem to make the cut.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want Tian Ling’er on the list.”

“Right, I don’t like her either.”

Many were excited about the ranking, eagerly discussing it, but just as many opposed Tian Ling’er’s inclusion. Even if she changed her heart, they felt she no longer deserved it.

“Ahem,” Su Tong coughed. Readers truly are hard to please, but he dared not change things willy-nilly, respecting both the original and the classic beauty ranking: “Let’s not be too harsh. Even if Tian Ling’er isn’t Xiaofan’s, nor the heroine, let’s not—”

But before he could finish, the crowd’s objections exploded, adamant that Tian Ling’er must not be the female lead.

Su Tong wiped the sweat from his brow. Luckily, they didn’t want her as the main heroine, or he’d be at a loss for how to go on. In the end, he placed Tian Ling’er in tenth place, which still left some fans dissatisfied.

“You all…” Su Tong sighed helplessly. “I’ll stop making offhand comments in the future—there’s no pleasing everyone.”

“Heh, I’m looking forward to it! Only two of the top ten have appeared. I can’t wait to see how breathtaking the next eight will be!” The crowd howled with excitement, even the female fans eagerly anticipating the future beauties.

It wasn’t just the men who loved beautiful women, but the women as well.

“I love beautiful women too, so rest assured, our Xiaofan won’t be shortchanged,” Su Tong laughed. Thinking of the future, he secretly delighted; after all, wasn’t he practically the author now? If they offended him, he could make them laugh or cry at his whim.

After soothing the crowd, he took down the battered wooden guitar from the wall.

Instantly, everyone’s attention shifted from the story.

“Ha! Brother, are you really going to sing?”

“Brother, if you let out a howl, what if half the audience faints?”

“If you have a weak heart, be careful. The song is free, but it might cost you your life.”

They teased Su Tong mercilessly, not holding back in their banter.

“Our childhood has irretrievably passed, but youth remains, or perhaps is still unfolding. This song is about youth—it carries the memories of a generation,” Su Tong said, cradling the guitar, his eyes growing distant.

No one knew exactly when it started, but people began to notice a subtle melancholy in his gaze.

Although Su Tong never spoke of his family circumstances, fans guessed from old live streams and the siblings’ casual chats that the Su family was not well-off.

Poets are often melancholy souls, thwarted and unfulfilled. Even the bold and free-spirited Li Taibai, whose poetry brimmed with grandeur and ethereal beauty, lived a life of disappointment, wandering when he should have been flourishing. Beneath his poetry’s unrestrained spirit lay a deep frustration at his unfulfilled ambitions.

Su Tong, with his stories and two songs, was already hailed by fans as a once-in-a-decade genius.

“Youth—it may still be unfolding, but I already find myself, unwillingly, mourning and yearning for it,” Su Tong lowered his head and gently strummed the strings.

The music seemed to pluck at a hidden string within each listener’s heart, sending a subtle tremor through their souls.