Cultivation of immortality begins with an eighty-year-old eunuch.

Chapter 680 Nascent Soul Gu Cultivator! Who are you?

A cicada flew out from his sleeve and landed on his shoulder. It seemed to sense the change in its master and let out a clear and long buzzing sound.

Chen Fan glanced at it, a barely perceptible smile appearing on his lips.

He extended a finger and gently touched the cicada's carapace. A wisp of extremely subtle fusion power between immortals and demons flowed from his fingertip into the cicada's body.

The cicada was surrounded by a brilliant golden light.

The intricate golden patterns on its carapace seemed to come alive, twisting and writhing. The pure black tentacles beside its mouthparts were fully formed, and the dark golden light at their tips was astonishingly bright.

It flapped its wings and took flight, circling several times inside the tent. With each circle, its size shrank, eventually shrinking from the size of a pinhead to the size of a speck of dust. Yet, its aura had steadily reached the Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul stage, just one final hurdle away from the Divine Transformation stage.

It landed back on Chen Fan's fingertip, rubbed its head against his fingertip, and let out a satisfied hum.

Chen Fan put it back into his sleeve, sat cross-legged on the sheepskin rug, and began to stabilize his cultivation.

The next morning, when Batu lifted the tent flap and came in, his steps were still as cautious as ever. He stood at the tent entrance for a moment before speaking: "Chen Fan, it rained so heavily last night, is your tent alright?"

Chen Fan was sitting at the low table, fiddling with herbs, and didn't even look up: "It's nothing."

Batu stood in the tent for a while, seemingly wanting to say something, but ultimately swallowed his words.

He turned to leave, but Chen Fan called out to him, "Batu."

Batu turned around.

"Greymane's legs haven't been feeling well lately; he's getting old. When you go to the Agula tribe another day, see if you can find a younger horse for me," Chen Fan said calmly.

Batu paused for a moment, then grinned.

That was the first time he had smiled at Chen Fan like that since that day. Although he was still a little reserved, the familiar boldness in his smile had returned somewhat.

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

……

In the days that followed, the tribe returned to peace and quiet, and the few Gu cultivators who had escaped were never heard from again.

The herders in the tribe lived in fear and trepidation for the first few days. At night, some people took turns keeping watch, and during the day, they dared not go far while herding sheep.

As the days went by and nothing happened, everyone gradually relaxed.

Batu resumed his habit of bringing a wine jug to find Chen Fan.

Although he still spoke with some restraint, he was much more natural than before.

That evening, he sat on a wooden post in front of his tent, took a couple of sips of wine, and suddenly asked, "Chen Fan, won't those Gu cultivators come back to cause trouble?"

Chen Fan was squatting on the ground, using a chisel to trim the edge of a piece of bluestone. Without looking up, he said, "I can."

Batu's hand, holding the wine pot, froze in mid-air.

He paused for a moment, then took another big gulp of wine, wiped his mouth, and didn't press the matter further. It wasn't that he didn't want to ask, but rather that he knew it would be pointless.

If Chen Fan says he will, then he definitely will.

This outsider never says anything useless.

Three more days passed.

That afternoon, Chen Fan was sitting in front of Morigen's tent, carving a new stone statue.

He had been carving this stone statue for seven or eight days. The outline was already very clear. It was a human figure sitting cross-legged. The face had not yet been finely sculpted, but the posture exuded a sense of peace and ease.

Morigen watched from the side, a glint of light flashing in his cloudy old eyes, but he did not say anything to disturb him.

Suddenly, the cicada emitted a very faint buzzing sound from his sleeve.

Chen Fan paused for a moment with the chisel in his hand, then continued to strike.

He didn't look up; his divine sense had already spread out.

A rather powerful aura was seen rushing towards the tribe from the southeast, its speed not fast, but extremely steady.

The Great Perfection of the Nascent Soul Stage.

Following that aura were three much weaker auras, two of which were Foundation Establishment cultivators and one was Qi Refining cultivator. These were the Gu cultivators who had been scared away by him a few days ago.

He placed the chisel beside the stone, stood up, and brushed the stone chips off his robe.

"What's wrong?" Morigen looked up at him.

"It's nothing." Chen Fan's tone was calm and normal. "You go into the tent first, and don't come out no matter what noise you hear later."

Morigen stared at him for a moment, then silently put the hammer on the ground, got up, and went into the tent.

The old man had lived for seventy years and seen a lot of ups and downs; he knew when to ask questions and when not to.

Chen Fan walked to the open space in the center of the tribe, stood with his hands behind his back, and looked at the southeastern horizon.

Before long, several strong horses galloped out from the depths of the grassland, carrying four people.

The leader was an old man wearing a dark red robe with Gu patterns. He had a thin face, high cheekbones, and a pair of triangular eyes that shone brightly.

The Nascent Soul stage of perfect cultivation.

He had a palm-sized, blood-red insect cage hanging from his waist. A low hissing sound could be faintly heard coming from the cage, and the insect spirit energy it emitted was more than a hundred times stronger than the Gu insects of the previous Foundation Establishment Gu cultivators.

The three Gu cultivators who had come a few days ago were following behind him.

The redness and swelling on the left side of the bearded Gu Xiu's face had not completely subsided. At this moment, he followed behind the old man's horse, his eyes filled with resentment and schadenfreude.

The other two also pointed at Chen Fan from time to time, whispering something.

The four horses stopped in the open space in the center of the tribe.

Upon seeing this display of force, the herders in the tribe all paled. They glanced at the scene from afar and quickly hid inside their tents.

Batu rushed out of the tent, and when he saw the old man, all the color drained from his face in an instant. His legs began to tremble uncontrollably, but he forced himself not to retreat back into the tent.

Batel also ran out of the tent, holding Qiqige in his arms. He stood behind his father, his face pale and his lips tightly pressed together, but he did not flinch.

Chen Fan glanced at Batu and said, "Take Batel and the child back."

Batu opened his mouth several times, but in the end he pulled Batel back into the tent.

The old man dismounted and walked slowly toward Chen Fan.

He didn't shout like the bearded man; he simply stood with his hands behind his back, taking measured steps, and stopped five steps in front of Chen Fan.

Those triangular eyes sized Chen Fan up and down, and after a moment, a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"So you're the Nascent Soul cultivator hiding in the mortal tribe?" The old man's voice was hoarse and slow, carrying a condescending scrutiny. "I am Wuyan, elder of the Blood Gu Clan, ordered by the Gu King to inspect the conscription of various tribes on the grasslands. A few days ago, some of my men suffered a loss here, saying they were beaten by a Nascent Soul cultivator. At first, I didn't quite believe it; how could a Nascent Soul cultivator willingly hide among a group of mortals? But seeing him today, it does seem quite interesting."

A bearded Gu cultivator walked over from beside the horse, pointed at Chen Fan, and said, "Lord Wuyan, it's him! This old bastard ruined the Gu King's conscription order and even injured me. He clearly doesn't respect the Gu King! Please, Lord Wuyan, do us justice!"

Wuyan ignored his clamor, staring into Chen Fan's eyes with a hint of inquiry: "Your cultivation is not low, why hide your face? State your name, I have some influence on the grasslands, and I might be able to put in a good word for you."