“Our clan is skilled at alchemy, but artifact refining has always been a weakness.
Demon beast materials would do us little good.
We should leave those for the Fang Clan and trade our pills for dharma treasures instead.
It would be a courtesy to them and convenient for us.” “We will stop at the clan treasury later and take some more pills and spirit stones.
That should help us make a few worthwhile trades at the Exchange Meeting,” Gu Wanchang continued.
“Of course.” Gu Wanhao nodded.
He stroked his beard, as if suddenly thinking of something.
“Wanhua should be returning soon, right?
It has been nearly five years since she succeeded in Foundation Establishment and went out traveling.
I wonder what her cultivation level is now.” Gu Wanhao was referring to Gu Wanhua, the Gu Clan’s only female Foundation Establishment cultivator.
She had gone out traveling several years ago after breaking through to Foundation Establishment and had not returned yet.
Gu Wanchang smiled and said, “We have already sent a message to Wanhua.
She replied that she will return within a month.
As for her cultivation level, Wanhua is now at the second layer of Foundation Establishment.
It seems she has gained quite a bit from traveling these past few years.
When Wanhua returns, we will have her manage the General Affairs Hall.
She is meticulous in her work, so she is most suitable to be the general affairs elder.” Gu Wanhao was somewhat surprised.
Gu Wanhua had advanced to the second layer in less than four years after reaching Foundation Establishment, which was quite fast.
As for the position of general affairs elder, she was indeed the best candidate.
The worries and considerations of Gu Wanhao and Gu Wanchang at this moment had nothing to do with Gu Changhuan.
He was reading a travelogue.
This travelogue recorded many interesting and strange events in the cultivation world, perfect for passing the time and broadening one’s knowledge.
Among them, one strange tale caught Gu Changhuan’s attention.
According to the book, Daoist Hongyun, a Foundation Establishment cultivator, had suddenly found his soul separated from his body while cultivating.
Somehow it had reached another world, where he wandered for several years, unable to return.
Just as he was at his wits’ end and considering giving up, a golden light rushed toward his soul.
When he came to his senses, he was back in his body.
He wondered whether it had all been an illusion, only to find his body drained of vitality, like that of someone near the end of his life.
Alarmed, he left his cave dwelling for the nearest market.
A guard recognized him and was astonished: he had not seen Hongyun for fifty years and had assumed he was long dead.
Fifty years without his soul had left Hongyun’s body so depleted that further cultivation was difficult.
Bitter at his fate, he told everyone he met what had happened.
Some believed him, some did not, and most laughed it off.
The travelogue’s author, however, thought the strange tale worth recording.
Hongyun’s experience reminded Gu Changhuan of his dreams: another self, living a different life in a world unlike this one.
But the dreams came only in fragments, and he knew little about the person he became in them.
Incidentally, that Daoist Hongyun in the book had, in his final years, recorded everything he saw and heard in that other realm, compiling it into a book called Daoist Hongyun’s Records of Another World.
In an unexpected turn, the published book had become wildly popular and made Hongyun a fortune.
But fifty years without his soul had drained his body too badly.
Even that windfall could not help him reach Purple Mansion, and in the end he died.
That very book was also in Gu Wanhao’s study, though it had long been stored away on a high shelf.
Gu Wanhao was not interested in such strange tales; the books he read were either cultivation techniques or pill scriptures.
Gu Changhuan was quite interested in the other realm where Daoist Hongyun’s divine soul had gone.
Excitedly, he searched through a pile of disorderly books, found Daoist Hongyun’s Records of Another World, and began to read.
“In the other realm I had no physical form.
I could pass through objects and walls, and no one there could see me.” The book began: “All in that realm were mortals.
Yet now and then one found remarkable individuals who, without cultivating, could cleave mountains or possessed uncanny intelligence.
Most wondrous indeed.” “I was in that realm for over five hundred years, yet only fifty years passed in this world.
I could not help but marvel at creation’s wonders.
Over five hundred years, I witnessed the rise and fall of two dynasties.” “The founder of Qin had extraordinary gifts.
Alas, that world knew no cultivation methods, so he never entered the Dao.
I also saw the founder of Han—a reminder that the times make the hero.
But enough of that.
Between Qin and Han lived a mortal whose strength could uproot mountains.
Even I was amazed!” “Strength to uproot mountains…
Qin emperor…
Han founder…” Gu Changhuan unconsciously muttered these words.
Something seemed about to emerge in his mind, yet he could not fully recall it.
Still, he inexplicably felt it was very important to him.
The more Gu Changhuan tried to think, the more his head hurt.
His face turned pale, sweat covered his forehead, and his hands tightly gripped the book.
After a moment, Gu Changhuan’s strength gave way, and he fainted.
When Gu Changhuan woke up, it was already dark.
He sat where he was, dazed and confused.
A flood of unfamiliar memories had entered his mind, all belonging to the other “self” from his dreams.
Those dreams had been real events from his previous life.
In that life, Gu Huan had won fame and fortune by using the brocade to appraise treasures.
A close friend had accidentally learned its secret and grown greedy.
Gu Huan had seen through his intentions before he could strike, and their confrontation had ended in both their deaths.
In a daze, Gu Changhuan absorbed more than twenty years of Gu Huan’s memories.
They, too, contained the Qin emperor, the founder of Han, and the man who could uproot mountains—but as figures from the history of Gu Huan’s world.
He had not lived through those events himself.
Reading about them had hastened the awakening of his memories.
So, Gu Huan was my past life?
I am Gu Huan’s reincarnation?
Gu Changhuan suddenly felt deep confusion about his identity.
It seemed like ten thousand voices in his heart were questioning him.
Was he Gu Huan or Gu Changhuan?
Or perhaps he was neither?
At that moment, Gu Wanhao, who had been busy all afternoon, finally returned.
Seeing Gu Changhuan sitting on the ground with a pale face, he asked with concern, “What is wrong, Changhuan?” “N-nothing…
I just fell while reaching for a book.
Don’t worry, Grandpa.” Gu Changhuan spoke in a rush, then hurried away, still holding Daoist Hongyun’s Records of Another World in his hand.