Chapter 261: Death at Every Step

Hearing the familiar lines, Yu Feng wasn’t surprised. Instead, he shook his head slightly, sorting through his memories.
As he reviewed his memories, he skillfully rolled out of bed and slipped into the cellar.
“Father and Mother died again.” Yu Feng’s expression was blank. Then, based on memory, he started thinking about his next steps.
“How many times has it been now?”
A flat voice echoed out. To Yu Feng, it sounded like a bolt of lightning on a clear day, shocking him so much he jumped back in fright.
“Who?” For once, Yu Feng’s expression changed, his voice trembling—his fear was clear.
Of course he was scared. He had hidden in this cellar thousands, tens of thousands of times, and it had never made a sound. How could a voice suddenly appear out of nowhere?!
“It’s me.” A figure stepped out, looking at Yu Feng with pity.
“Although I really want to say that, even if I do, you won’t know who I am.”
“My name is Jiang Li. I’m from another world.”
“Another world?” Yu Feng repeated instinctively, then immediately became highly alert toward Jiang Li.
“Are you the one who keeps making me reincarnate?” Yu Feng’s voice was full of hatred, as if he wanted to kill Jiang Li. Only the heavens knew how many times he had died and come back. That kind of torment wasn’t something a person could endure.
He would rather be dead.
Can you imagine watching your parents die in front of your eyes ten thousand times?
Each time he watched, Yu Feng’s heart broke anew—until, in the end, he was completely numb.
Father died? Oh, got it. Time to hide in the cellar.
Mother died? Oh, got it. Time to hide in the cellar.
“It wasn’t me. But I probably know the reason why you keep reincarnating.” Jiang Li looked at Yu Feng, gently shaking his head. Poor child.
“There’s a fragment of the Stairway to Immortality inside you. It contains the Dao of Time. Every time you die, it causes you to be reborn.”
Yu Feng remained wary of Jiang Li. What Jiang Li said only made him more convinced that this person was the one behind all his suffering.
Seeing Yu Feng like this, Jiang Li felt even more pity. This child had probably experienced at least several thousand reincarnations.
Yu Feng would have to hide in the cellar for five days. Jiang Li figured he had time to explain things slowly.
“You’re saying the world we’re in is called the Tonggu World, a subordinate world to the Celestial Realm, which used to be connected to it by the Stairway to Immortality. But for some unknown reason, the stairway broke, and a fragment ended up inside me?”
“A very large piece,” Jiang Li emphasized. The fragment in Luo Ying’s body could only be used once to reincarnate. Yu Feng’s fragment was clearly much more durable.
Only then did Yu Feng begin to somewhat believe Jiang Li’s explanation.
Their world was a cultivation world, and the concepts of immortals and the Celestial Realm did exist. But time had long since buried them into myth.
Still, he only half believed it.
Either the man in front of him was telling the truth, or he was the mastermind forcing Yu Feng to reincarnate.
Yu Feng was unusually agitated, pacing back and forth. He accidentally kicked an iron basin, drawing the attention of the bandits.
They followed the sound and found the cellar—Yu Feng was killed.
Yu Feng awoke in sunlight. The first thing he saw was Jiang Li’s face. He froze. It was the first time he’d seen someone else reincarnate with him.
What Yu Feng didn’t know was that Jiang Li hadn’t reincarnated—he was watching time rewind at an absurd speed, everything returning to its starting point.
The shouting outside reminded Yu Feng that now wasn’t the time to worry about who Jiang Li was. What mattered most was hiding quickly.
Yu Feng once again slipped into the cellar.
“You’re not going to save your parents?” Jiang Li asked.
Yu Feng gave a half-smile. “Save my parents?”
“Yes, I have cultivation and martial arts memories. I’m stronger than most people. I could kill a few of the bandits outside and save my parents.”
“But then what? There aren’t just a few bandits in the village—there are hundreds.”
“Even if I hide my parents in the cellar, once the bandits realize someone killed their men, they’ll search every inch of the place. They’ll find the cellar, and none of us will survive.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve died trying to save my parents?”
“I’ve proven, with hundreds of deaths, that they can’t be saved.”
Yu Feng’s tone was calm, like he was describing something trivial.
He rambled about his experiences with death. Jiang Li wasn’t much of a listener—he just silently sat there, not saying a word.
Yu Feng, however, had found a release. He finally had someone to talk to about the endless cycle of death and rebirth he’d been through.
Tens of thousands of deaths, tens of thousands of resurrections—only he knew what he had gone through. What a sorrowful existence.
It didn’t matter who Jiang Li was anymore. He just needed someone to listen.
“The bandits aren’t that easy to hide from. I’ve tried hiding in haystacks, in cauldrons, in roof beams, under beds—all failed. Only the cellar works.”
“And you can’t make noise like earlier. Otherwise, you die too.”
“And you can’t just hide for one day. The bandits don’t leave immediately. They gather in the ancestral hall to drink, feast, and abuse women. They patrol occasionally. If you leave early, you die. You have to wait five full days until they’ve had their fill before it’s safe to leave.”
“Why not start cultivating?” Jiang Li asked. He knew Yu Feng must’ve cultivated. The system had marked the mission complete before, which meant Yu Feng had reached the Nascent Soul Stage, then died and reset for some unknown reason.
“Can’t cultivate now. Cultivating causes fluctuations in spiritual energy. The bandits can sense it. I’ve died that way a few times already.”
Jiang Li said nothing more. Just like that, five days passed.
On the fifth day, Yu Feng climbed out of the cellar again. Like completing a mission, he kowtowed before his parents and said he couldn’t bury them—then hurriedly left.
Seeing that Jiang Li wanted to ask something, Yu Feng explained in advance: “There’s no time to bury them. A bandit returns to look for something. If he sees the corpses gone, he’ll search the area—he’ll even check the cellar.”
“I was going to ask—why not wait until the bandit finds his stuff before burying them?”
“No way. I have to leave immediately. Do you know who’s backing the bandits? A group of cultivators who practice the Blood River Technique. After the bandits kill people, they notify those cultivators, and they come to drain every drop of blood from the corpses.”
“If I leave even a little late, I’ll be discovered by those cultivators.”
It wasn’t hard to imagine how many times Yu Feng had died to gain this knowledge.
He’d died trying to bury his parents.
Died after waiting for the bandits to leave before burying them.
Died because he didn’t leave in time and was found by demonic cultivators.
By conservative estimate, at least seven or eight times.
“After leaving the village, I have to hurry to the town. Otherwise, I’ll get attacked by demon beasts,” Yu Feng said as he half-walked, half-ran toward the town.
“And I can only go to the town. Head west and I’ll run into bandits.”
“Head south and I’ll get caught in a mudslide.”
“The demon beasts came from the north—can’t go that way either.”
Yu Feng arrived in the town again, covered in dust and grime, but completely on guard.
He knew—even this town was full of hidden dangers. One careless move, and it was back to square one.
Jiang Li thought Yu Feng’s journey was full of so many death traps it was almost absurd.
What kind of grudge did the heavens have against this kid to throw so much trouble at him?
If he could live long enough to reach Peak Fusion Stage, he’d be a guaranteed Tribulation Stage cultivator.