Wu Yu's, or rather Yang Chen's, hard work was acknowledged by all in Willow Town.

Especially Master Yang Bai. He was getting on in his years, but gradually began to hear of Yang Chen's name. He knew that he was torturing himself with training night and day, continuing even if his body was injured.

Master Yang Bai found his spirit highly admirable, but he personally came to counsel Wu Yu not to overdo things, or his body would give way.

Wu Yu not only did not listen, but even talked back to Master Yang Bai. To him, a master like Master Yang Bai was too mediocre to advise him. He did not look down on Master Yang Bai, but Wu Yu's dreams were on a different level from Master Yang Bai's milieu.

Therefore, he continued to train, to practice, to work at it.

Finally, Master Yang Bai sighed and no longer paid attention to Wu Yu.

"This improvement speed is way too slow!" Wu Yu could feel his cultivation speed, and slowly gave way to despair.

He did not know if it was his imagination, but he felt like the more he trained, the weaker his body got. Yang Fan and Liu Yue had all but sold their house. All of their assets had been pawned for the resources that he needed to cultivate. But even after a few years, he had not improved at all.

"Am I really doomed to spend my life here, unable to begin dao cultivation?" Wu Yu could not accept this outcome.

He felt that he must have done something wrong. Perhaps the martial artists in Willow Town were too inept. Perhaps the Immortality Arts he was learning were too flawed.

But he had clean forgotten everything about martial training and cultivation. Not a single memory was left for him to compare or judge by.

However, just by instinct alone, Master Yang Bai and the other masters had some modest accomplishments, even if they were not particularly strong. It was illogical that he would be left with nothing at all, and he would grow weaker by the day.

This state of affairs continued until Yang Chen was 20. By this year, Wu Yu had already been training for 10 years. Although he still had nothing to show for it, but he did not give up.

But one day, he could not stand. The pathways in both of his legs were completely blocked. Having overworked his legs to the point of irreparable damage, he could not even stand now.

This was a devastating blow to Wu Yu.

He was now bedridden, unable to continue training. Yang Fan and Liu Yue's white hairs continued to multiply, caught in a whirlwind of worry and business as they tried to find doctors to treat him.

But every doctor which looked at his legs shook their heads and left. It was beyond them.

A thunderbolt on a clear day!

Wu Yu reeled for a long time. He could not accept reality. Both of his legs were wasted, and he was unable to stand. How could he head for Capital Wu, for Heavenly Sword Sect, for his dreams of cultivation?

He had struggled for 20 years, only to reach such an ending.

And now even Capital Wu seemed to be a dream, way beyond his reach.

Although Yang Fan and Liu Yue had searched even to the nearby towns for a doctor, there was no one in the neighboring cities who could do anything for him.

After 10 years of training, and now his medical costs, the couple had exhausted all of their savings, and also incurred many debts.

Wu Yu would often hear people shouting in their yard for them to pay up. But Yang Fan had even sold his cloth shop, and had no more income to speak of.

The family of three were in a bleak situation.

As for the folk of Willow Town, they saw Wu Yu as an invalid now. He was no longer able to marry or carry on the next generation. In Willow Town, Yang Chen was now common laughing stock.

Many of the youths who had trained alongside him were now blossoming into respectable martial artists in Willow Town.

To Wu Yu previously, such people were even less than ants, but now they could do as they wished with him, looking down on him and instructing him. What use was martial training for him? Without talent, forcing martial cultivation only led to despair!

The whispers circulating Willow Town affected Wu Yu deeply.

Even eking out a living was a problem for Yang Fan and Liu Yue. They could only live from day to day, trying their best to take care of Wu Yu.

Wu Yu's heart ached at their care. If not for him, the couple could probably live a blessed life. Because he was born, they had gone through hell.

He was prone on the bed, dependent on Yang Fan and Liu Yue to care for him.

When he was 30, he was still bedridden. White arsenic had been prepared beside his bed. When he could no longer take it, suicide would be the final merciful release for him.

Before, he had never felt despair, no matter how strong his opponent had been. Not even against the Yan Huang Ancient Emperor.

But now, he felt despair run through him deeper than he had ever known. It permeated every last cell of his brain.

Racked with despair, he now realized that one's mental strength sometimes had nothing to do with one's opponent, and everything to do with one's own state.

Even against the Yan Huang Ancient Emperor, in the most hopeless of situations, Wu Yu still had tricks up his sleeve. He had hope, and therefore sufficient will to fight.

The more one had, the more confidence one had.

And now he had nothing, both legs invalidated, and him locked to the bed. If even a single martial artist wanted to kill him, he could do nothing about it.

Absolute, total bleakness.

Wu Yu was left on the bed for 10 years with only his thoughts to accompany him. In his state, he wrestled with the other option of suicide.

But the couple was still doing their best to take care of him. They did not give up on him. Even if the family was plagued by misfortune, they still did not blame Wu Yu at all. Such was the power of their familial love.

Wu Yu still blamed himself. He had ruined their lives. Now he was 30, and they were getting on in years. Their lives would only get harder and harder.

Wu Yu could not imagine how his life would play out.

When he was 35, Yang Fan too was bedridden with age. His body had given way. A mortal's decline was painful to witness. Wu Yu railed and railed, but he could do nothing.

After Yang Fan collapsed, only Liu Yue was left to take care of him.

The rest of Willow Town had ostracized them by now. Their debtors had also chased them away to a dilapidated cottage far away.

Wu Yu and Yang Fan were left helpless on the broken straw beds, doomed to their final days.

If not for the sight of Liu Yue still striving, Wu Yu would have taken his life already. This sort of despair ate away at one's soul.

Her hair was pure white now, a woman in the last legs of her life. But still she took care of Wu Yu and Yang Fan.

Wu Yu was in agony every second of every day. Yang Fan was in the same state. But without the experience that Wu Yu had, he did not feel that his experience was unbearable, only inevitable.

To mortals, sickness and death were natural. Yang Fan had even thought about it a long time ago.

Wu Yu was different.

Wu Yu had been an immortal, enjoying a lifespan of eons. He lived as long as the heavens, running far ahead of death. He never imagined that he would be in such a desperate situation. His agony was a hundred times worse than Yang Fan's.

After a particularly bitter winter, Yang Fan's illness finally took him, and Liu Yue too passed soon after.

Yang Chen was 40 years old now. He was all alone in this world!

Bedridden since 20, he had been in agony ever since, tempted by the option of suicide. Seeing Yang Fan and Liu Yue try so hard had allowed him to hold on for all this while.

Any other immortal would have given up halfway and killed themselves.

And now, Wu Yu felt a sense of release.

This had been a laughable existence, from birth till now. They had looked at him with eye rolls. No matter how hard he had worked, he still failed at martial arts. Cursed. A cursed existence that brought Yang Chen as low as could be.

Even when he did not train the martial arts, his body continued to grow weaker and weaker, until he had reached his current incapacitation.

Wu Yu lay on the straw pallet, looking at the pale moonlight filtering through the cracks in the straw walls. A strange will suddenly surged in him.

This sort of life was a mockery. If it was a test, it was all too real.

But it was exactly this realism that caused one to sink into despair!

If this was an illusion, then perhaps the goal of the Graveguarding Palace was to sink one into absolute hopelessness.

"Whether it's an illusion or not, will I let this life pass just like that?" Wu Yu was not content with his lot. Suicide was an expression of weakness. Even if he was to die, he would die on the road.

He had not had the heart to leave while Yang Fan and Liu Yue were around. Now that he had nothing tying him here, he could not give up on his dream.

He struggled up from the straw bedding, crawling out of the hut. His face was pale from illness, but his resolve shone so bright that one could almost believe the pallor was all moonlight.