Diary

September 16, 2025

Let me tell you a story I had as a dream.

I was an immortal cultivator. I lived for a long time as a wanderer. My goal was never to reach immortality, but to have a longer lifespan and the strength to survive.

I didn't want or needed much. I just felt life was too short to experience many things if I can only live for about 100 years as a mortal.

But I also felt if I decided to live longer as a cultivator, I needed strength. Not the strongest, but at least enough to retaliate. If I die, I want to annoy the fucker that kills me or take them down with me.

Then one day, in my long years of wandering the world to live as willfully as I had wanted, I had an encounter with a handsome sickly guy.

I have no idea why I stopped or why I had noticed him from the vast crowd of similar mortals.

I also don't remember how it all started or how I had suddenly became his friend or journey companion.

I also wondered why I hid my identity as a cultivator and pretended to be a mortal.

And I also questioned why I never gave him an elixir that could've saved him from his illness. Whether that commonly used cultivation pill could extend his life, ease his pain, or even cure the root cause of his illness.

I do not have an answer. I only intuitively knew I was in possession of something that could help him, but I chose not to give it to him.

Instead, after becoming close, I stayed with him every day. Every moment and every second that I could.

I was the only one there for him and I had the time and willingness to spend it with him.

I still didn't know why. It didn't feel like love nor pity or sympathy.

I had simply wanted to stay and be within his presence.

Listening to his thoughts and feelings.

Watching his different reactions to all the sceneries and places we went to.

At most I just took better care of him in consideration to his sickness.

This went on for years until he reached his limits.

He could no longer go on adventures or do most of what he wants to try. So we settled down somewhere nice and peaceful. It was relaxing and I continued to stay accompanying him, never bored or tired of such mundane everyday life.

But sometimes I was hit with a guilt that I had been hiding from him.

So one day I asked him if we wanted to live.

He looked at me. Serenely like he had known the answer long ago.

He told me at the beginning he did because no one would naturally want to die. He was always regretting and resentful of his health. He yearned for so many things the world had to offer, but he couldn't even grasp a fraction of what the average person can get.

He felt deeply and helplessly at the unfairness of his life.

But at some point he gave up and accepted it.

He knew he was dying and going to die.

Pondering why and wasting time feeling inferior would just be a waste. So he went and did everything he could.

And he had accomplished it.

And I was the witness and companion of the whole process.

That day I stayed until the night became dark. The only light was the moon and the stars.

I didn't know what I was thinking about, but from then on, I stayed the same.

I didn't give him the elixir.

Even to the moment he died, I never told him I was a cultivator or that I possessed such a pill.

After that I blessed his soul and used my cultivation and fortune to help him live better in his next life.

From then on I would sometimes wonder why I decided what I did and not save him. Especially as a friend and all the affection and memories we had together.

And sometimes I thought if I did give him the pill in the end, would it actually be more of an insult for all the pain he went through?

I saw and knew everything. How he endured and had to helplessly accept his fate.

If giving the pill is like a reward for his hardwork or if everything was like a test to see if he was worthy of giving the pill to save him.

I thought... giving him the elixir now is an insult.

He had already accepted death because he knew he was never going to live. This was an absolute fact that he had to forcefully accept due to helplessness.

It was something he could not change.

But then I, who is a cultivator, possess an elixir, can save him.

At the beginning, I could've not given it to him because we were strangers. I had no obligation or reason to besides doing a good deed.

Later, I could've given it to him but saw his conviction and determination on his journey.

I felt... like I shouldn't be the one to decide whether he lives or dies.

When the dream ended I was more conflicted.

In the ended didn't I still decide to let him die?

Maybe I should've revealed the truth and let him decide whether he wanted to swallow the elixir or not.

But strangely I felt a weird understanding. I don't know what it was though.

It just felt... him dying and never knowing might be good? I mean dying is not good.

But to suddenly tell him while at his deathbed that I could've saved him this whole time but watched him suffer in pain for nothing is...

I felt so guilty.

But to not save someone's life because I'm a coward is so... disgusting.

The only thing I felt better about is that as a cultivator I knew he would reincarnate and that my blessing worked.

And since it's in my dream, I did see many years later that I found his reincarnation.

It's just that he was very different.

Because my blessing let him lived such a good life  with many fortunate things and conveniences, he lived to become...

Um. I don't know how to describe it. 

Well in the dream I didn't go to him to have a reunion or anything. He doesn't remember anyways.

I just watched from a distance and saw he lived happily doing whatever he wanted and just left.

Me: ...

As of now when I'm done writing what I saw in my dream into words, I kinda want to beat myself up.

Clearly... I'm a bad guy in my dream and this story!!! 

Just what is all this?! What was my goal? What did I want?

Was I playing god or something??? Fate???

Help! Not just me current awake self, even the me in the dream till the very end had no clue why I did all that!!!