My Path to Immortality with a Blade of Grass - Chapter 1

01

I was a snake who had cultivated on Mount Kunlun for five hundred years.

Not a snake spirit.

I’d spent five hundred bewildered years absorbing the essence of heaven and earth before I gained even the beginnings of awareness. Becoming a spirit would take another five hundred.

But I didn’t care.

As a snake who had risen above life’s vulgar temptations, I cultivated for one reason alone: to eat chicken, and to eat it better.

I discovered an old man living in a hollow on Mount Kunlun. White eyebrows, white hair, white beard. Excellent at raising chickens.

His chickens were delicious—tender, succulent, and utterly unforgettable. Once you started eating them, you simply couldn’t stop.

And he had lots.

Surely he wouldn’t notice if I stole one now and then.

Until I ate his very last chicken.

Burp.

Then I got caught.

The white-bearded old man held me up with one hand clamped around my vulnerable spot just behind my head, and tapped my head with his pipe.

“Now, you little snake.” His beard bristled as he glared at me. “When you stole a chicken now and then, I pretended not to notice. But eating every last one is going a bit far.”

I pretended not to understand, secretly tensing to spring away. The moment his grip loosened, I’d be off without a backward glance.

The old man sighed. “You owe me.”

“How about this? I’m going to the heavenly realm for three days. I have a medicinal herb garden with a very precious lingzhi in it. Why don’t you watch over it for me? In exchange, I’ll help you become a spirit and take human form.”

Snakes can’t roll their eyes, but inwardly, I scoffed.

Dream on. Out here in the wild, I was free and happy, without a care in the world. Become a spirit? Could that possibly make me happier than eating chicken?

“I don’t actually have any urgent business in heaven. I just wanted to buy a few more chickens.” As though he could read my thoughts, the old man stroked a strand of his white beard and put on a thoughtful air. “But if you can’t help me protect my lingzhi, little snake, then buying those chickens…”

Chickens?

Ha. Did he think a proud, high-minded snake like me would give up her principles and freedom for a few measly chickens?

I would.

And so, with the Heavenly Dao as our witness, the white-bearded old man and I made a contract: during the three days he spent in heaven, I would watch over the lingzhi in his herb garden. Upon his return, he would help me become a spirit and take human form.

Why weren’t the chickens in the contract, you ask?

Because happiness isn’t something you wait for other people to hand you. You have to seize it for yourself.

Once he brought the chickens back, I’d steal them.

02

The old immortal tossed me into the herb garden and hurried off into the sky.

That left me blundering around the garden like a headless fly, looking for the lingzhi.

“Sis! Sis!”

I turned. A sentient “weed,” standing a little taller than the plants around it, was calling to me.

I looked around. It was the only plant in the entire garden that had gained awareness.

I’d finally found the lingzhi!

But the thought of spending another three days with him made me want to cry.

Could someone please explain how a mere blade of grass could be this noisy?

His endless chatter drove me so mad that several times, I wanted to rip him out by the roots. But because of the contract, I couldn’t so much as pluck a leaf.

With no other outlet for my frustration, I lashed my tail at the drab gray mushroom beside him.

Partly to vent, partly to make an example of someone. I noticed that whenever I beat up that plump gray mushroom, the lingzhi would obediently fall silent.

I was a snake. On a sunny afternoon like this, all I wanted was a dark, damp corner where I could coil up and sleep.

But the lingzhi kept buzzing away like a bee.

“Weed!” I snapped.

“Sis, you’re finally talking to me!” His voice practically overflowed with joy.

He accepted the nickname so good-naturedly that I actually felt a little embarrassed.

I tested him again. “So I can call you Weed from now on?”

“Yes! Yes!” The lingzhi happily waved the fuzzy seed head on top of his stalk, like a delighted dog’s tail.

His unassuming nature and tentative efforts to please me finally earned him a little of my affection—and patience. I decided to pay this lively lingzhi some attention.

“Sis, why do you have my master’s contract mark on you?” he asked.

“You mean that white-bearded old man?”

“White-bearded old man?” The lingzhi grew solemn. “My master is an immortal from heaven! He only lives in seclusion down here so he can devote himself to cultivation.”

“An immortal?” I was astonished.

No wonder that old man—no, that venerable immortal—could come and go from heaven as he pleased!

I silently calculated how many thousands of years of cultivation I still needed before I could ascend as a snake immortal, and felt a profound respect for him.

Good heavens! I was a snake who’d seen the world now!

“Sis, what exactly does your contract with my master say?” After I’d sat there in stunned silence for quite a while, the lingzhi ventured to ask.

“Oh, nothing much. He’s spending three days in heaven, so he hired me to watch his herb garden for three days.”

“Ah!” The lingzhi suddenly went rigid.

I gave him a suspicious sidelong look. “What’s wrong with you?”

He shrank his stalk as far as he could. After a long hesitation, he mumbled, “Sis, do you know that one day in heaven is a year on earth? My master’s spending three days in heaven. Which means…”

“I have to stay in this dump for THREE YEARS?” I swore.

You can’t treat a snake like this!

Old immortal—no, you stinking white-bearded bastard—just you wait!

The thought of spending three whole years in this wretched herb garden made my scalp crawl.

The spiritual energy was so abundant here that I didn’t need to eat at all. But eating chicken was my hobby. My life’s ambition.

I had to escape.

“But don’t you want to become a spirit, Sis?” The lingzhi tilted his seed head at me.

“What’s so great about that? It only gets in the way of eating chicken! I don’t care!” I smacked the fat mushroom with my tail.

“But once you’re a spirit, you can visit human villages. I hear humans have over a hundred different ways to eat chicken!”

“Over a hundred?” I gasped.

“Yes! Braised chicken, roast chicken, chicken soup, white-cut poached chicken…” The lingzhi rattled off the dishes one by one.

I didn’t quite understand how any of them were prepared, but just hearing so many chicken words together made my mouth flood.

“And…” His seed head suddenly drooped. “I’ve never met any other plants or animals with awareness. If you leave, Sis, I’ll be so very, very lonely…”

I was a snake. My heart did not soften. Absolutely not.

I stayed purely for the hundred-plus ways to eat chicken.