Gateway of Immortality

Chapter 3: Sailing on the Great River

Contrary to Qin Sang's expectations, the man in white appeared much younger, seemingly only fifteen or sixteen years old. His face was as smooth as jade, with sharp eyebrows and bright eyes, giving him a striking appearance despite the leaves and grass clinging to his face. He was the most handsome youth Qin Sang had ever seen in both of his lives.

The young man's eyes were wide open, as if questioning the heavens.

Qin Sang gently closed the youth’s eyes, hesitating for a moment before beginning to search his body.

To Qin Sang's surprise, the youth's body was even cleaner than that of the demon's. After thoroughly checking, including his undergarments, Qin Sang found only a small, colorful silk pouch.

The pouch, about the size of a palm, was adorned with intricate cloud patterns and made of a fine material, smoother than the finest silk Qin Sang had ever touched. It was fastened with an embroidered ribbon and hung from the youth's waist. Initially, Qin Sang thought it was a sachet, but upon closer inspection, he realized it was empty.

Qin Sang tried to open the pouch, but the ribbon was unexpectedly strong and refused to give way.

Where's the flying sword?

The thought of the flying sword made Qin Sang's heart race. In both of his lives, the legends of sword immortals were always fascinating and filled with wonder.

However, despite looking everywhere, there was no sign of the flying sword.

Picking up the youth's hands, Qin Sang noticed that they were tightly clenched as if holding something. With great effort, he pried them open. The left hand held some pale stone fragments, while the right hand contained a small wooden sword.

Qin Sang picked up the sword. Its surface had a dark sheen, resembling ebony. The sword was finely crafted, with some patterns that seemed to be natural wood grain, but there were no inscriptions.

This ebony sword was only as long as a little finger and felt heavy in hand, though it had no blade. The tip was so blunt it couldn't even prick a finger, making it seem more like a toy.

Frowning, Qin Sang recalled the moment he saw the flying sword, realizing that it looked identical to this ebony sword, but much larger, the size of a regular sword.

Could these terrifying ravines have been caused by this small sword?

Qin Sang wrapped everything carefully in sheepskin, just as the man in black had done, and hid it in his chest. Suddenly, he heard a crackling sound. Looking up, he saw that flames had spread from the tree to the grassy area. The wind was strong, and the riverbank was covered with dry yellow grass, which quickly caught fire.

He had been careless!

Qin Sang cursed under his breath. There was no time to bury the bodies. He bowed to the youth in white and whispered, "I do not know your name or origin, but I will keep this pouch as a token. If fate allows, I will return it to your family."

After speaking, Qin Sang memorized the youth's features and then skillfully crawled towards the river.

The fire was spreading rapidly, and Qin Sang became anxious. He hurriedly searched the bandit’s bodies, grabbed two money pouches, and clumsily tied the raft before pushing it into the river. He climbed aboard, just as the flames engulfed the riverbank. ?

Whoosh…

The fire roared, and thick smoke billowed.

The raft drifted down the river. Qin Sang noticed that the current was indeed calm, which put him at ease. He turned to gaze at the sea of flames.

In an instant, dozens of lives were gone, their bodies reduced to ash, including those of the two mysterious immortal masters. Yet, Qin Sang felt no great sorrow, only an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

Forcing himself to stay awake, he took out a few pieces of dry bread he had found on the bandits, wolfing them down with river water. Then, thinking of the treasures he had risked his life for, he quickly took them out and organized them.

The two money pouches contained mostly gold, nearly a hundred taels of silver's worth, enough for him to live comfortably for a while. Qin Sang counted the coins carelessly and then put them away.

He wrapped the book and the silk pouch in sheepskin and tucked them close to his chest. He then pulled a few strands of cotton thread from his clothes and tied the small sword to a string, hanging it around his neck and hiding it under his collar.

The small sword was unremarkable in appearance. Even if someone saw it, they would likely assume it was just a wooden talisman, never guessing it was an immortal's flying sword.

Qin Sang intended to land at the first sign of a village or town to seek help, but after drifting for a long time, he saw no signs of life. He cut a branch to splint his injured leg, then lay on the raft, fingers playing with the small sword. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, where faint smoke could still be seen drifting in the distance.

…

Another accident!

That terrifying dark vortex appeared again and again, and this time, it lasted especially long, spinning faster and faster.

Qin Sang's entire body went cold, and he was nearly suffocating. Suddenly, he jolted awake, realizing he was still on the raft—it had just been a nightmare. After escaping danger, he had relaxed too much and, exhausted, had fallen asleep on the raft.

He had no idea how long he had slept, but it was already night. The sky was starry, with no moon, and a few faint starlights scattered across the water, breaking into fragments as the waves rippled.

Splash!

Suddenly, a wave crashed over the raft, sending a shiver through Qin Sang, who instantly woke up. He was soaked to the skin, and the river here was turbulent, with waves continuously crashing, far from the calm of the daytime.

The raft rose and fell with the waves, and when Qin Sang looked down, cold sweat broke out all over his body. Ahead, a massive whirlpool had formed on the water's surface, and the raft was drifting straight towards its center—no wonder he had dreamt of that scene.

Qin Sang knew all too well how terrifying whirlpools in the water could be and was horrified. It was only now that he realized the raft had drifted into a wide river, with surging waters and fierce winds.

Alone on the raft in the middle of the river, with no support, Qin Sang could only desperately paddle with his knife, but his efforts made little difference.

Suddenly, a shout suddenly came from behind him.

"Boy on the raft, stop paddling and grab the rope!"

Qin Sang turned around and saw a large ship anchored on the river, its dark outline and scattered lights barely visible in the night. A lantern was lowered from the ship, and as it swung down towards the river, Qin Sang realized it was held by a man.

The man held the lantern in one hand and a rope in the other. As soon as his toes touched the water, he leaped again, remaining above the surface, walking on the waves as if on solid ground.

Another immortal master?

Qin Sang stared in astonishment.

"Focus!"

Halfway there, the man shouted again, swung the rope with great force, and sent it flying towards Qin Sang. The rope moved swiftly but slowed down just before reaching Qin Sang. He quickly threw away his knife, struggled to stand, and grabbed the rope, immediately wrapping it around his waist and holding on tightly.

Seeing Qin Sang's quick reaction, the man praised him, waved the lantern, and shouted back, "Pull the rope!"

With a loud call from the ship, the rope instantly went taut, and a powerful force lifted Qin Sang off the raft. As he flew towards the ship, he shut his eyes tightly, terrified he would crash into the side.

The man kicked off the water, soared through the air, grabbed Qin Sang by the collar, and in a few swift steps, leaped onto the ship, landing safely.