We Agreed On Experiencing Life, So Why Did You Immortals Become Real?

“For the past eighteen years, you have never gone down the mountain. Starting today, you should often go down and walk around. Help the common people in the nearby villages and towns more often, and do some solid, practical work. But remember this: unless you encounter demons or evil spirits, if you can avoid using spell arts, then do not use spell arts. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.” The young monk pressed his palms together and answered respectfully.

After morning lessons ended, the monks of Sikong Temple dispersed, each going about his own duties and cultivation.

Queyin also received a task: he was to go to Cloud Village at the foot of the mountain.

“Senior Brother Queyin.” Just as Queyin was about to walk out of the temple gates, a young novice monk who looked only eight or nine years old suddenly chased after him from behind, panting from the run.

“Xujing, what is it?” Queyin stopped, turned around, and looked at his little junior brother with a smile, his tone gentle and patient.

“It’s nothing important. I just saw Senior Brother heading outside...” The little novice monk lifted his face. His eyes were bright and full of curiosity. “Where is Senior Brother going? Are you going down the mountain?”

“Mm.” Queyin nodded. “Master said I should often go down the mountain for tempering. Today, a young couple in Cloud Village happens to be getting married, so I am going down the mountain to preside over their wedding.”

“I see...” Xujing lifted his face and asked quietly, “Then... can I go with Senior Brother?”

“You...” Queyin smiled and rubbed Little Junior Brother Xujing’s bald head, his tone carrying a touch of indulgence and helplessness. “You should finish your lessons properly first. Otherwise, Master will punish you again.”

After saying this, Queyin turned around and headed down the mountain.

“Then Senior Brother, when you go down the mountain, remember to pack some vegetarian dishes from the banquet and bring them back!” Xujing stood behind him and shouted at the top of his lungs.

Queyin did not turn back. He merely raised a hand and waved, indicating that he understood.

On the small path down the mountain, sunlight filtered through the mottled shadows of the trees and scattered over the ground like broken gold.

A squirrel crouched on a branch, happily gnawing on a fruit while curiously watching this human descending the mountain.

Before long, it began hopping and chasing playfully among the treetops again.

Several rabbits hid deep in the grass and quietly poked out their heads, watching vigilantly for a while. Only after this person had gone far away did they dare to emerge. Cicada cries echoed through the woods one after another, making the place seem rather lively and full of vitality.

“Eighteen years...” Looking at the familiar scenery before him, Xiao Mo could not help feeling somewhat emotional. “These eighteen years really have been a little too quiet.”

Thinking back to eighteen years ago, when Xiao Mo had just regained consciousness, he had discovered that he had actually become a crying infant.

He had immediately understood—this was his second life.

Only, Xiao Mo had not expected the beginning of this life to be so difficult. He had actually been abandoned by his biological parents outside a temple gate.

Fortunately, the old monk had carried him into the temple.

From then on, Xiao Mo had grown up in the temple. Since childhood, he had entered monastic life and become a monk, reciting scriptures by day and meditating by night. In the blink of an eye, eighteen years had passed.

And relying on his exceptional talent and so-called “early wisdom,” Xiao Mo learned Buddhist classics extremely quickly, and his realm advanced at no slow pace either.

In fact, because Xiao Mo had been born with a fine appearance and often interpreted fortune lots for people at the temple with rather accurate results, he had gained a bit of fame throughout the nearby villages and towns.

“What exactly has the state of the world become now?” Xiao Mo quietly pondered in his heart.

After all these years, who knew what the demon-race world had become? And even less did he know how Jingci was... doing now.

In this second life, the Book of a Hundred Lives had also imposed certain restrictions. He could not take the initiative to reveal his identity to Jingci.

Of course, in this life, Xiao Mo had no intention of telling Jingci about his reincarnation either.