My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 110 - When the Heavenly Eye Sees Mortal Striving, Each Heart Conceals a Worldly Guile - Part 1

Time passed, and the sun drifted across the sky.

With his natural affinity for animals, Li Yuan spent the day picking and choosing among them.

By dusk, he’d found a pair that suited him perfectly. They were small white birds, each about the size of his palm. Fast flyers, they soared to impressive heights, and their feathers were remarkably strong. Floating above their heads was a faint 2~3, which was roughly on par with wolves. That alone made these white finches unusual enough to stand out.

He needed birds capable of traveling far, so that they could help him see more of Gemhill County and beyond. Birds that could make it outside the county, let alone to the next one, were rare. Only those with exceptional traits would survive the journey. These white finches seemed just right.

They probably wouldn’t make it too far, but at least they could survey the surrounding areas. After half a day of searching, he only managed to find these two. Little Ink Mountain, after all, wasn’t home to demonic beasts, just ordinary wildlife.

“Two is enough,” Li Yuan decided. “Adding that one at home that flits around Silver Creek should do.”

He let out a soft whistle, and the two white finches hopped onto his shoulders as if they’d known him all along.

Li Yuan took some rice from his pouch, offering it in the palm of his hand. The finches hopped down, pecking fearlessly at the grains.

He patted the gourd at his waist, popped off the cork, and took a swig. The strong liquor slid over his tongue like icy slush, then burned like a molten knife down his throat. It was brewed at his own tavern, and whenever a new batch was ready, Xue Ning always set some aside for him. This old gourd was the handiest way to carry it around, holding just enough—about 50 cl of liquor.

“It’s the same snow-fermented brew, but it’s improved a bit, feels purer,” Li Yuan noted, wiping a drop from the corner of his mouth. Then he headed back down the mountain.

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Back home, Li Yuan made sure the two finches had their fill. He opened his window, and sent both out along with another bird he already had, a small sparrow with a beaded neck.

All three fluttered away, circling under the cold winter moon. The small sparrow, unused to high altitudes, stayed close by, flying loops around Residence No. 9. The white finches, however, shot off into the sky, vanishing into a height beyond normal sight. Soon, one veered south and the other north, each on its own path.

Li Yuan yawned. Feeling a bit drowsy from the liquor’s warmth, he lay back on his rocking chair and pulled a blanket over himself. The chair creaked as he closed his eyes, but his vision opened in the birds’ view, spreading across the snow-covered Gemhill County.

Within Silver Creek, evening meant two choices for most people. Either find some warm corner to drink and eat, or hurry home and escape the cold.

Beyond that, though, lay the county’s harsher realities; half-collapsed bridges sheltering the homeless, foul ditches echoing with cries; shallow graves in the desolate outskirts; and countless people huddling for warmth in the snow, gazing toward brightly lit taverns in hope of a scrap of leftover food.

Countless souls scurried like ants among dwellings no bigger than beans.

This was life in a time of chaos.

Li Yuan felt uneasy. He knew the situation might have been worse if the land owners hadn’t finally agreed to reduce the grain tax on tenant farmers. Still, he was here only to practice guiding his feathered scouts.

He watched through the finches’ eyes as they swooped through the cold sky. Their gaze was eerily calm and human-like as they surveyed the world from above.

By the cozy brazier, Li Yuan rocked in his chair, looking on with a sense of wonder. He stayed that way until hushed voices outside drew his attention back to the present.

“Madam Yan, Madam Xue, the master went up the mountain at dawn. He’s only just come back and smells of drink. He’s napping by the warm stove now.” That was Auntie Wang’s voice.

“Did you give him a blanket?” Yan Yu asked.

“Yes,” Auntie Wang replied.

“Seems our head of the household really likes this year’s new Snowbrew. Hehe,” Xue Ning chimed in.

“Big Sis, he never used to drink himself to sleep like this. Is there something special about this brew?”

“It’s our original recipe—very pure and strong, with a real kick. But I doubt he’s drunk; he’s just enjoying that warm, tipsy feeling. He calls it distilled liquor. We upgraded the distillery and started making a second-distillation spirit.”

“Just watch out he doesn’t go on a drunken rampage tonight,”

“Ha! Let him if he wants to. Who’s afraid?”

The two women burst into laughter.

Then the door opened a crack. Yan Yu peeked in to see Li Yuan sleeping soundly under a blanket, the warmth of the stove filling the air. The high-grade charcoal crackled softly, giving off a faint pine aroma.

Carefully, she closed the door again. “Auntie Wang, don’t let anyone disturb Li Yuan. Oh, and prepare some hangover soup,” she whispered.

Their small conversation warmed Li Yuan’s heart. He stayed where he was, continuing to watch over Gemhill County through the finches’ eyes.

Gemhill County was large, nestled by mountains and water, with a dozen villages and townships spread out in a loose arrangement.

Originally, the Blood Blade Sect, Wei Family, and Sun Family had formed a three-way stalemate. The townships of Union Town, Violet Haven, and Southveil were at the center of much of that old conflict. But now that the county had been united under the Blood Blade Sect, the outer gates of those townships became the territory’s true borders.

To the north lay Parasol Town and its gate, to the west was Fortuna and its gate, and to the south, Brightown had its own. There was no eastern gate, because to the east lay Little Ink Mountain and the wild peaks beyond.

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Aside from those three gates, the Silver Creek River flowed in from the north, passing through Silver Creek. In essence, the black market there acted as a fourth gate.

As Li Yuan observed, he suddenly felt his vision sharpen and a strange sense arise within him. With a single thought, he noticed how the county looked different through the finches’ eyes—small, ant-like numbers began to appear.

Sensing a hunch, Li Yuan directed one of the white finches to perch outside a tavern where some people milled about. Sure enough, numerical labels appeared over their heads, 0~1, 1~2, and 0~1.

Li Yuan blinked in surprise. “What on earth...? I can see their overall combat power through the finches’ eyes?”

“It must be because I’ve been using this spiritual link so often. Our bond must have grown.”

He sat up and couldn’t help but laugh. With this, he could more easily spot threats, draw clear lines between safe and dangerous, and decide which paths he could or couldn’t take—ensuring the safety of his little household.