Chapter 1094: Approaching the Mountain
After the rain in the mountains, the air remained cool and refreshing. With the long day bringing no pressing matters, one could sit leisurely and enjoy the idleness.
At the foot of the mountain, beside a table, sat a big one and a small one, both with their legs crossed, cracking melon seeds and chatting about this and that, thus whiling away the time in leisure.
They were the two brothers of Luopo Mountain, renowned far and wide for their lofty ambitions. Why bother cultivating the Dao? Why practice boxing? Because the two of them were top-tier geniuses!
"Leaving aside genius, for those who can ascend the mountain and cultivate the Dao, with equal talent and resources, they must avoid certain pitfalls on the path of cultivation. For example, the path of talismans has a high threshold, consumes a lot of money, and requires guidance from a wise master. Otherwise, a single misstep can waste an entire life. What talk of longevity, what mention of ascension? This is like the saying: a woman fears marrying the wrong man, a man fears entering the wrong profession."
"Exactly, exactly, Brother Dafeng speaks the truth, speaks the truth."
"Some pitfalls are shallow. If you suffer a loss and see the trouble, you can still climb out. But some pitfalls are very deep. Once you jump in, you can't climb out. The most terrifying is encountering a bottomless abyss."
"Brother Dafeng is one of the rare martial arts grandmasters in our Baoping Continent. Learning martial arts and practicing boxing—this profession doesn't have a high threshold. It shouldn't be a pitfall, right?"
"This isn't called a pitfall."
Zheng Dafeng nodded. "It's a cliff."
Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes but said nothing. If he agreed any further, he would be going against his conscience.
Zheng Dafeng said with a chuckle, "The number of martial artists outside the mountains is certainly far greater than the number of Daoists in the mountains. But you can't think that learning martial arts isn't a pitfall just because of that. You can't see Chen Ping'an and Cao Ci being young and high in realm, flying in the sky, and think this profession is easy to handle."
Just then, on the mountain path not far away, an old immortal with an immortal demeanor appeared, with three strands of long beard and flowing Daoist robes. He was Lu Yong, the palace lord of Qinghu Palace on Tongye Continent.
The old man held a horsetail whisk, walking with measured steps, steady and dignified, appearing extremely authoritative.
According to their old chef, unless one was a terrestrial immortal in the mountains or a county magistrate in the officialdom, one could never have such an imposing presence.
Chen Lingjun looked closely, then hurriedly rose, shaking his sleeves, and strode forward. "Oh my, isn't this Old Brother Lu? A rare guest, a rare guest!"
The old true man stopped and made a Daoist bow with clasped hands, smiling. "Coming uninvited, I hope I'm not disturbing."
Then Lu Yong added, "I spotted Fellow Daoist Jingqing and Grandmaster Zheng from afar. What a fine sight: one who chats idly with the aura of the azure sky, one who sits leisurely with the bearing of white jade."
Zheng Dafeng was no longer the gatekeeper, so he didn't bother to stand to receive the guest. Hearing Lu Yong's comment, he was greatly impressed. Truly a true man, he had genuine insight and spoke the truth to people.
Chen Lingjun imitated the mountain lord's sigh. "All these polite formalities—who are you looking down on? Does Old Brother Lu need to announce himself when coming to our Luopo Mountain? This talk is too shabby, not proper. Makes us look like snobs who don't remember old friendships. Slap my face, that's fine—the two of us are thick as thieves, we can settle it over a couple of drinks. But slapping my lord's face—that won't do, absolutely won't do."
Lu Yong laughed heartily, changed his Daoist bow to a martial arts fist clasp, and shook it vigorously. "Indeed, this old brother is being too sentimental. When I get to the table later, I'll fine myself three bowls first."
Chen Lingjun asked via mind voice, "Old Brother Lu is a busy man these days. What matter couldn't be clearly explained in a letter, requiring you to personally ascend the mountain? Have you encountered some difficulty? Can you give your younger brother a private hint? If I can help, I will. If I don't, call me a grandson."
Lu Yong hesitated briefly, then chose to speak directly. "Fellow Daoist Jingqing, to be honest, I have a direct disciple named Zhao Zhu. Not to boast, but Zhao Zhu's aptitude for Dao cultivation is decent, and his character is even better. I was thinking, could I help this disciple secure a seat at the very back of your Jise Peak Ancestral Hall, to serve as a nominal guest elder who can listen to discussions? That way, later when I lay down my responsibilities and plan to retire, letting Zhao Zhu inherit the palace lord position would be even more legitimate."
For such a major matter, merely sending a flying sword letter would indeed seem lacking in sincerity, as if Qinghu Palace was issuing orders to Luopo Mountain. Lu Yong didn't think he had such a big face, so he had to make this trip in person to discuss it properly with Lord Chen. He had some confidence, though.
Chen Lingjun rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, his expression turning serious. "Zhao Zhu, I remember, I've met him. He's a good person. If it were just a general nominal guest elder, it wouldn't be difficult at all. But to have a seat in our Ancestral Hall—that's no small matter. I can't lightly promise on behalf of the mountain lord. But I can guarantee two things: one, when the mountain lord returns, I'll privately go to him and put in a good word for Zhao Zhu, help him out. Two, if the mountain lord thinks this is feasible and formally puts it into the Jise Peak deliberation process for discussion in the Ancestral Hall, I'll be the first to support it, without any second thoughts!"
Lu Yong sincerely thanked him and asked quietly, "Is Lord Chen not in the mountain currently?"
Chen Lingjun grunted in affirmation. "He's gone down the mountain. Our lord is always so busy."
The little boy in green clothes laughed. "That's why we can be so idle."
"Being busy without making mistakes, being idle without causing trouble—both require true skill."
The old true man smiled. "The atmosphere in this mountain is so excellent, and Fellow Daoist Jingqing deserves much credit."
Chen Lingjun silently noted this truth—it was indeed golden advice. Later, he could argue with that silly girl who always scolded him for being idle.
Lu Yong planned to stay here for a while. After meeting Zheng Dafeng and chatting a bit, they found they were kindred spirits. One praised Lu Yong: "Old Brother has abundant immortal aura, which is rare, but even more precious is his human touch." The other said: "Brother Zheng has worked hard and achieved much, but he treats fame and merit like dirt, even more detached than us Dao cultivators." The more they talked, the more they liked each other, so they arranged to drink together. After Old True Man Lu signed in at Daoist Xianwei's place, Chen Lingjun led the old true man up the mountain to a quiet residence. The relationship between Luopo Mountain and Qinghu Palace was akin to the "marital kinship" between two villages in the mortal world—more reliable than ordinary alliances.
Before Chen Lingjun could come down the mountain, another unfamiliar face appeared.
Zheng Dafeng clicked his tongue in wonder. "What fine day is this? Distinguished guests come one after another."
On the mountain path, a woman with a graceful figure approached leisurely. Truly an immortal sister whose feathered robes often carried the colors of mist and clouds.
Upon closer inspection, she had a small mole on the tip of her nose, which was not a blemish on flawless jade but rather a finishing touch that enhanced her beauty.
Zheng Dafeng quickly straightened his clothes, intending to personally meet the unidentified woman. The former gatekeeper was still a gatekeeper, after all! Luopo Mountain didn't practice burning bridges after crossing.
When he met the woman, she directly handed him a document. Zheng Dafeng took it, confirmed it wasn't forged, and was quite surprised.
It was a travel clearance directly issued by the Confucian Temple in the Central Earth.
According to rumors, over the years, the Confucian Temple had only issued about a hundred of these?
Generally, Qi Refiners who received this honor were mostly native cultivators from the Barren Wilds, or spies from the Haoran World stationed in the Barren Wilds who hadn't returned home in a long time.
The clearance was in the name of Zheng Qingjia, with the Dao name Yuanhu, but didn't specify her birthplace or sect.
The female cultivator smiled. "I won't hide it—I actually come from the Barren Wilds World. My former Dao field was located in Jincui City. Now, I'm considered a cultivator not yet registered in Baidi City's genealogy."
Zheng Dafeng suddenly understood. He thought the Dao name sounded familiar. So she was the city lord of Jincui City—a genuine immortal realm city lord!
Now with the surname Zheng, it made sense.
Qingjia spoke in perfectly pure Dali official language. "My trip to Baoping Continent this time has two purposes: first, to follow Sir Zheng's decree, find Gu Can, and fully assist him in establishing a sect. Second, to pay homage to a senior from my hometown, trace back to the source. This senior can be considered the founding ancestor of our Jincui City. That Jincui City has today's prosperity and that I have today's realm are both thanks to him. Recognizing one's roots is only proper. Now that Jincui City has become a vassal sect of Baidi City, the matter of returning to the clan is settled, so I must come here to acknowledge my ancestor."
Zheng Dafeng understood in his heart.
Xiao Mo had indeed left six Dao lineages in the Barren Wilds World, but according to Xiao Mo during their casual chats, it seemed only one incense flame remained there, insignificant, with just a couple of stray cats and dogs, at any moment could the flame be extinguished. Logically, this remaining incense flame shouldn't be Jincui City. Jincui City in the Barren Wilds was a renowned sect that even Qi Refiners in the Haoran World had heard of. Zheng Dafeng knew about this sect—famous for having many female cultivators, excellent dharma robes, and female cultivators wearing those beautiful robes were even better. They changed robes every day for half a month without repeating, though in the end it all came down to the same thing—they had to take off their clothes... Just thinking about it could make bachelors drool.
Zheng Dafeng wiped his mouth and explained with a smile, "Xiao Mo isn't on the mountain; he's gone traveling far away. But he'll be back soon; I believe Fellow Daoist Qingjia won't have to wait long."
Qingjia smiled. "I haven't yet asked for your name."
Zheng Dafeng said, "What a coincidence—we both have the surname Zheng! Five hundred years ago, we were one family. Sister is a few years older. Since we're both Zheng, calling me Little Zheng isn't quite right. Just call me Little Feng."
He invited, "Please, Fellow Daoist Yuanhu, move to my humble abode for a chat. The place is simple..."
In the customs of the Barren Wilds World, they didn't care much for empty formalities. Moreover, Qingjia was a city lord who had mediated for years among the great demons Yangzhi and Feifei, and now followed Zheng Juzhong. She didn't feel she needed to play coy with this man. So she directly interrupted the slovenly man's oily words and smiled, "Fellow Daoist Zheng, I won't disturb your residence. May I ask a bold question: can I take a walk on the mountain, only briefly browse the scenery along the path? I have long admired the Dao field of the Hidden Official."
Zheng Dafeng immediately changed his tune, patting his chest. "Easy, easy. I know all the paths in this mountain, big and small, far and near, with my eyes closed. I'll take you up the mountain."
Xianwei said nothing.
Qingjia probably never imagined that before even entering the mountain, she would encounter such a person at its foot.
The Luopo Mountain in her impression was not like this at all.
After all, it was the Dao field personally created by the young Hidden Official—it should have been a mountain with tight security and orderly arrangements.
Unclear about the surname Zheng man's status in Luopo Mountain, his background, or his relationship with Chen Yin'guan, Qingjia had to follow him step by step up the mountain.
Fortunately, the trip was worthwhile. When Qingjia finally set foot on Luopo Mountain and got what she wanted, it largely diluted the discomfort brought by the man beside her.
Earlier, after recording her name at the Daoist's place, before formally stepping through the mountain gate archway, she stopped, took a deep breath, looked up at the plaque, and bowed.
Only cultivators of the Barren Wilds could truly understand the complex and heavy feelings of Qingjia and her kind.
Because they had never truly been enemies with the Sword Qi Great Wall and its last Hidden Official.
Chen Lingjun had escorted Old Brother Lu to his residence. On his way back down the mountain, he saw Zheng Dafeng hitting on an unfamiliar woman. He felt a surge of sympathy—Brother Dafeng had been a bachelor for many years; it was tough.
Chen Lingjun first slipped over to Xianwei and asked quietly, "Who is that?"
The Daoist Xianwei replied via mind voice, "A fellow Daoist from another land, named Zheng Qingjia, with the Dao name Yuanhu. It seems she's come to find Gu Can."
Unlike Zheng Dafeng, Xianwei couldn't see much insight from the genealogy register. He was never curious about the background of this visitor.
Chen Lingjun nodded, thinking he understood.
He figured this woman was a wilderness wild cultivator who had nowhere to turn but couldn't find the gates of the Baidi City temple in the Central Earth. Having heard somewhere about his lord's solid relationship with that little brat Gu Can, she wanted to ask his lord to put in a good word for her, introduce her to Gu Can?
The little boy in green sighed softly. Not easy.
They climbed the mountain together, listening to Zheng Dafeng's endless chatter, using every trick to curry favor and get close. Chen Lingjun, walking behind, clenched his fists against his cheeks to suppress his laughter.
Passing a courtyard with its door open, an old man lay on a rattan chair, eyes closed in repose, breathing long and deep as if lightly asleep, a yellowed palm-leaf fan resting on his stomach.
As they passed the open gate, Qingjia caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye: a flower petal, as if persuaded by the spring breeze to travel far from its branch, swayed down and landed on the old man's forehead.
She took a few more looks.
The old man was similar to the Zheng fellow beside her—likely a martial artist, and definitely of no low realm.
Qingjia had a high enough realm to see that the old man, who seemed as settled as a monk or Daoist in meditation, wasn't pretending to sleep but was truly "sinking his heart down and letting his spirit wander beyond the body."
For a martial artist to be like this was rare, but for Qingjia, it wasn't too surprising, given the high-level figures and events she had witnessed in the Barren Wilds.
The Zheng man beside her, even if he were twenty years younger, probably wouldn't look much better.
But that old man in the courtyard—if his age were halved, and with his bearing, could he be considered a handsome man?
Zheng Dafeng rubbed his hands. Was it coincidence, or intentional?
So the old chef really had a trick up his sleeve. Jiang Taigong fishing, waiting for the willing fish to take the bait?
This technique was worth learning!
Seeing Zheng Dafeng's eagerness, Chen Lingjun felt he had to be a loyal friend with a backbone. He said via mind voice, "Brother Dafeng, take my advice—don't learn this craft. Trust me, it'll backfire. Look, no matter how bad the old chef's looks are, when he shuts his mouth and doesn't speak, he still has some semblance of a human being. If that flower petal fell on your head, in a woman's eyes, it would feel like... want me to say it?"
Zheng Dafeng chuckled. "Go ahead. I'm all ears."
Chen Lingjun lowered his voice. "Like falling into a latrine."
Zheng Dafeng pressed down on the little boy's head. "Using metaphors now, eh? Quite the talker."
Chen Lingjun sighed, lamenting his own fate. "Truly, good advice is harsh to the ear."
Zheng Dafeng immediately lost interest. He made some excuse for Chen Lingjun to take over as guide. The man's expression dimmed, and he went down the mountain alone, his back desolate.
Zhu Lian had taken to treating sleep as cultivation these days. Everyone was used to it.
According to intelligence leaked by Little Rice Grain, it seemed the old chef had arranged a fight with the Good Man Mountain Lord, to take place in the Southern Garden Country capital within their own blessed land. This winter, if it snowed, they would fight.
Zheng Dafeng walked off the bluestone path onto the main sacred way of Jiling Peak, which could go either up or down. He hesitated, then headed toward the peak.
He turned to look down at the mountain foot. Behind one pillar of the mountain gate archway stood a bamboo chair where a fake Daoist sat—one who hadn't even received a private talisman.
His name was actually Nian Jing; Xianwei was his courtesy name. He had given himself the wandering Dao name "Xuxuan" (Void and Profound).
He had been "lured" here by the mountain lord from the Dali capital, so Luopo Mountain, following the mountain lord, habitually called him Daoist Xianwei.
Only Chen Lingjun, who had gotten familiar with him, would deliberately reverse "Xuanxu" and tease him by calling him Daoist Xuanxu—like "playing tricks" in "deliberately mystifying."
Xianwei's realm wasn't high, but his skin wasn't thin either. Having wandered the jianghu for years, why would he be embarrassed by that? On the contrary, he liked this kind of talk from Fellow Daoist Jingqing.
Every day, Daoist Xianwei would watch the gate when the weather was clear, hiding a book in each sleeve. When no one was around, he read the serious one; when someone was nearby, he read the even more serious one.
When it rained... what else could he do? Take shelter in the house.
At most, he'd hold an umbrella for show, sit at the mountain gate until he was shivering like a quail, then soon go back to his room to read.
Rough estimate: for how many days did it rain continuously in the Haoran World? Nine full days?
In the Green Abyss World, maybe five days. In the Western Buddhist Kingdom, maybe four.
In the Barren Wilds World, a day and a half. In the Five Colors World, half a day?
Zheng Dafeng had thought that during this "worldwide" rainfall, Xianwei would mysteriously break through a few realms.
Breaking through a realm wasn't surprising; not breaking through would be the oddity.
But things turned out just that odd.
Unexpectedly, Xianwei's realm remained "steady" to the point of being incomprehensible, as immovable as a rock. The rain had stopped, and when the Daoist came to Luopo Mountain, he was at the second realm; now he was still at the second realm.
Since cultivation was a personal matter, Zheng Dafeng didn't think it proper to remind him or poke his nose in.
People outside often talked about "revealing the secrets of heaven in a single word," but within the mountains, there was a taboo against "unfortunately speaking it out."
Zheng Dafeng clasped his hands behind his head and swayed his shoulders as he climbed up. The mountain wind brushed his face, invigorating him.
Hey, since there was no graceful figure of Miss Cen on the path, she must be on the white jade square at the top practicing boxing. A woman throwing punches, moving around, rising and falling—how could that not be a pleasant sight?
He slowly ascended the steps, straightened his clothes, spat into his palm, and slicked back the hair at his temples.
In the past, his master didn't like to chat with him. His senior brother Li Er, either falsely passing down the master's decree or deliberately saying things to disgust him because he was more handsome, said that Zheng Dafeng's martial arts didn't amount to much, his prayers to gods were ineffective, his pursuit of the Dao was insincere, he couldn't achieve high or low anything, and ended up in a position where he had nothing to show for either—neither scholarly achievement nor martial prowess—all because he was both weak-willed and indecisive, and also someone who fundamentally didn't know what he wanted or what he should pursue. Over the years, in Ascension City of the Five Colors World, Zheng Dafeng had repeatedly chewed on these harsh words. He knew the reasoning was sound—otherwise, he wouldn't have thought about building a shrine by the great river and becoming a divine being. But deep down, Zheng Dafeng was still... lazy.
He was not much better than Zhong Qian, who thought about lunch and dinner after breakfast and still craved a midnight snack after dinner.
What mortals desire: when outside, people flatter and fawn; when home, wives and concubines fill the halls, mountains of gold and silver.
What Daoists seek: at the lower end, climbing layer by layer to become a terrestrial immortal who extends life; at the higher end, eternal life, ethereal ascension, hoping to live as long as heaven and earth.
Zheng Dafeng took all this lightly.
Just call it a dog that can't change its habit of eating shit.
Zheng Dafeng first reached the summit of Jiling Peak. Not seeing Cen Yuanji, he decided to go to the back mountain. That little girl named Cao Yang always seemed shy whenever she saw him; maybe she had a thing for him?
Good taste, the girl. Was she coveting his looks or seeing his supreme martial arts?
Both? Sigh, he would have to disappoint their affections again.
Zheng Dafeng circled around the former mountain god temple at the summit and leaned on the railing, looking north at the continuous range of mountains, all emerald green, especially lovely after the rain.
He wondered if that girl Su Dian, now in the unfamiliar Green Abyss World, had met the senior brother she had never seen before to learn boxing. Could she obtain the true teachings?
This was an undeniable great figure.
Even if you called him the number one martial artist across several worlds and the entire human realm, no one would object.
First, the last Sacrificial Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, Yan Guo. Then, the Gatekeeper of Lizhu Cave Heaven, Xie Xinen. Now, the number one martial artist in the Green Abyss World, Ya Mountain Lin Jiangxian.
Zheng Dafeng had spent years in Ascension City and was very familiar with the local customs and culture.
Coupled with his frequent eye contact with Miss Nianxin—they had a great relationship—he was especially well-versed in the anecdotes of the Sword Qi Great Wall.
Compared to the famous Summer Retreat Palace, the Winter Retreat Palace was somewhat less impressive, like an appendage. They had a bit of a "main wife and cold palace concubine" dynamic.
The outside world directly linked the Summer Retreat Palace to the Hidden Official; mentioning one would naturally bring up the other. Under the two Hidden Officials, Xiao Xun and Chen Ping'an, the Summer Retreat Palace had indeed been elevated to a very high position, making Qi Refiners from both the Barren Wilds and Haoran Worlds deeply remember the name.
Now, the Winter Retreat Palace in Ascension City had been transferred to the Executioner lineage, run by Qi Shou and Nianxin, becoming the office for Executioner sword cultivators and a training ground for martial artists.
But in truth, the Winter Retreat Palace had long ago been the exclusive territory of the Sacrificial Official lineage. The Sword Qi Great Wall's archives deliberately avoided mentioning this.
One was Summer Retreat, the other Winter Retreat. Winter Retreat? Retreat from what winter? Why retreat?
Could it be that these two palaces of the Sword Qi Great Wall had origins with the Fire God and Water God among the Five Supremes of the ancient Heavenly Court?
Chen Ping'an had once asked the Great Sword Immortal a series of questions about this. The Great Sword Immortal told him to ask the Sacrificial Official, saying he was in charge of this area and knew these old yellowed records that no one even wanted to wipe their asses with. Chen Ping'an then had to ask the Sacrificial Official: besides the name on the secret files, what was his background and history, why were his records erased, and where was he now. The Great Sword Immortal said you could ask the previous Hidden Official—remember that girl with the braids who got along pretty well with the Sacrificial Official? Chen Ping'an ground his teeth in anger and said, you want me to go ask Xiao Xun, who is now at the fourteenth realm, about this face to face? Will I be able to run after asking, or will I die after asking? The Great Sword Immortal patted the new Hidden Official on the shoulder and sighed, that's why just being taller than Xiao Xun isn't enough. When your realm matches hers, then you can ask. After asking, you can run. Want to chat a bit more? Go ahead.
The establishment of the Gatekeeper position in Lizhu Cave Heaven happened under Cui Chan.
Chen Ping'an now knew the current Gatekeeper was still Lin Zhengcheng. As for the previous Gatekeeper, there were no records; he was mediocre and seemed to have displeased Senior Brother Cui Chan with his performance, leading to the replacement with Lin Zhengcheng, who had worked in the Kiln Affairs Supervision Office. Before that, there was the outlander who used the alias Xie Xinen. This person was nominally a disciple of Old Man Yang, with a status comparable to later Li Er and Zheng Dafeng. And "Xie Xinen," as the last Sacrificial Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall, quietly left his hometown, passing through Daoxuan Mountain, then encountered Zhang Tiaoxia, the former number one martial artist of the Haoran World, at sea. They fought a bit, just a spar. After that, he landed on Tongye Continent, found Qingtong in Zhenyao Tower. According to information Qingtong leaked to Xiao Mo, they didn't see eye to eye and parted on bad terms. Then he went to Baoping Continent and secretly entered Lizhu Cave Heaven.
The disciples taught by Old Man Yang of the medicine shop were, without exception, martial artists. From Xie Xinen to Li Er, Zheng Dafeng, and finally Su Dian and Shi Lingshan.
Of course, before Xie Xinen, there must have been some "senior brothers and sisters." But the lifespan of pure martial artists is ultimately shorter than that of Qi Refiners. Unless they were exceptions like Xie Xinen, they were probably all six feet under by now.
In the history of the Sword Qi Great Wall, the last martial artist to reach the ultimate realm was Old Madam Bai Lianshuang of the Ning Manor.
According to the records of the Hidden Official lineage, tracing back, the previous ultimate realm martial artist was several hundred years earlier, and still a female grandmaster.
Even leafing through further back, martial grandmasters who reached the summit and ultimate realm in the long history of the Sword Qi Great Wall were pitifully few.
The reason for this anomaly was naturally that the Sword Qi Great Wall had long planned, building dikes to intercept the flow, accumulating thickly to unleash thinly, letting a certain someone monopolize the martial fortune.
That someone was the last Sacrificial Official, surnamed Yan, named Guo. His true name was Yan Guo.
Chen Ping'an had once seen a note on a secret file, clearly in Xiao Xun's handwriting.
"Every pure martial artist's physical body is a Pantheon of incense-filled temples."
Ten thousand years ago, the First Ancestor of the Martial Dao single-handedly opened the path of martial arts, creating a new horizon for the human world. Unfortunately, he reached the summit but couldn't reach the heavens, unable to become a fifteenth-realm great cultivator like the Three Religions' Patriarchs. It was said precisely because he was burdened by martial fortune, and this path was too close to the divine path, becoming a burden he couldn't shake off. Unless he dispersed all his fortune, he would have a chance. But since the battle to ascend to heaven was imminent, he said he would deal with it later—more killing power in the midst of battle was good. As for the outcome later, it led to the schism and civil strife that nearly caused chaos in the human world again. He was jointly executed and imprisoned beyond the heavens for ten thousand years.
Back then, Chen Ping'an also asked the Great Sword Immortal a crucial question: why was Ning Yao so severely injured in the small town.
Chen Qingdu's answer at the time was perfunctory, saying someone had done a divination, roughly that Ning Yao had to undergo this tribulation, and the sooner the better. Bad things aren't feared early; they're easier to clean up.
Zheng Dafeng straightened up, his gaze focusing on a particular mountain peak.
Not far north of Luopo Mountain, there was a medium-sized peak with no master cultivating there, just left abandoned.
He remembered Wei Bo mentioning it once. It seemed there had been some construction projects on that mountain before, but they were hastily done, half finished, as if just for show.
Further north was the Returned Sword Lake, formed by the relocation of all the peaks of the Dragon Spring Sword Sect.
This mountain and this water both seemed a bit lonely, long silent.
Zheng Dafeng thought for a moment. Wasn't that solitary peak called Jinfang Mountain?
Matters of love between men and women are actually quite similar to cultivation.
If the mountain won't come to me, I'll go to the mountain.
Probably unrequited love is like getting close but only being able to see the mountain from its foot.
——
Zheng Dafeng went to the back mountain. Shortly after, Chen Lingjun brought Qingjia to the summit, one after the other. He planned to show her around here first before taking her to Jise Peak.
Qingjia looked at the building on the peak and asked in confusion, "This place is...?"
There was no plaque hanging here, but a very long couplet was displayed. It didn't look like an immortal residence at all, but more like a shrine?
Why was it hung here originally? And why hasn't it been removed?
Chen Lingjun smiled in explanation. "There used to be a mountain god temple here; this is the old site. Later, the mountain god moved to Qidun Mountain. The path we took uphill is actually an incense-burning sacred way. Our mountain lord really likes this couplet, so he kept it. According to local customs, this can be called 'Yu Zhao' (leftover arrangements). Although it looks a bit odd and doesn't quite match, our mountain lord believes in this strongly. It's not just a decoration."
Qingjia suddenly understood. No wonder.
She looked at the couplet a few more times and silently memorized its content.
"The private whispers of men are heard by Heaven like thunder. Though ancestors are distant, sacrifices must be sincere. In my previous life, who was I? Don't ask. I must treat this life anew. My fate is determined by myself. A thousand ages are contained in this single day."
"Secret acts of injustice are seen by the gods' eyes like lightning. Though descendants may be foolish, they must read the classics. In my next life, who will I be? Don't inquire. Do not despise this body. Happiness is sought from oneself. The three powers are contained within this six-foot body."
Chen Lingjun didn't urge her to move on. Everywhere on Luopo Mountain was full of knowledge. He was truly cherishing the happiness he was in.
Earlier, on the road to Luopo Mountain, no matter how hard Qingjia strained her immortal-realm eyesight, from outside the mountain, it was all clouds and mist, impossible to see clearly.
Only after passing the archway at the mountain foot and truly entering the mountain did she realize it was a different world. Coupled with Qingjia's keen spiritual perception, different from ordinary Daoists, she could see even more mysteries just from the continuous heavy rain that wouldn't stop. She managed to obtain a share of Dao resonance, which she still couldn't truly refine. Qingjia knew this matter was significant, but no matter what divine abilities she employed or techniques she tried, even specifically selecting a clean spot of mountains and waters to set up a formation to collect the rain for more gains, she still couldn't get more "gifts" from the Heavenly Dao. Qingjia knew this couldn't be forcibly extracted, so she gave up. Before setting off, she didn't dismantle the formation but left a sum of spirit money, letting it continue to operate. The loss of some rare materials was negligible. She would leave it for a destined person to enter the mountain and find this good spot. Qingjia, upon arriving at Luopo Mountain, felt a slight disappointment at the mountain foot, but once she ascended, she became increasingly certain that the mountain concealed a grand formation of profound mystery. Even if the mountain were completely empty, it would be harder for her to sneak in than to ascend to heaven.
Qingjia had already noticed at a glance that the little boy in green with the Dao name Jingqing had a root origin as a water snake. Thanks to successful water-dragon transformation, he now had the aura of a perfected Nascent Soul. Chen Lingjun led her to the Jise Peak Ancestral Hall, chatting and appreciating the scenery along the way. The sights were refreshing: the sky was vast, the earth warm with a hazy glow, mist and clouds swirling over the cliffs, pines and cypresses arching over the dwelling of mountains and waters. Truly, the work of creation, not artificial carving.
Along the mountain path, there were many pavilions for resting and enjoying the view, one every few li, with wings-like eaves. Their names were clever and refined, clearly the work of Chen Yin'guan.
Take the pavilion they were currently in, Zanbi Pavilion. It had a broad view, as if the mountain god took pity and swept away the clouds from the peaks for them. In the distance, a mountain range was visible. Following Qingjia's gaze, Chen Lingjun introduced it as Qidun Mountain, the place where his good buddy Lord Wei achieved the Dao.
For a cultivator who had mastered the divine ability of shrinking the earth, Piyun Mountain was right next door. If not for her background, Qingjia would have wanted to visit Piyun Mountain incognito and attend a famous Night Roaming Banquet.
The path of Incense and Divinity was indeed easier to attain eternal life than Qi Refining cultivation.
Qingjia couldn't help but sigh softly. The path of Qi Refiners climbing the Dao, no matter how firm your resolve to seek the Dao, inevitably brings sighs, feeling the difficulty of your current cultivation, and worrying about the rugged path ahead. Below the thirteenth realm of union with the Dao, one mountain after another blocks the way. Each layer of realm is a pass; beyond the mountains are ten thousand more mountains. Unlike ordinary great demons of the Barren Wilds, Qingjia had admired and yearned for the Haoran World since childhood. Of course, if not for Sir Zheng's visit to Jincui City, Qingjia wouldn't have become a traitor, leaving the Barren Wilds to join Baidi City.
The sea of learning has no end; one's life is finite. One's ability is limited; one's desires are infinite.
This human body is both the raft for cultivating the Dao and becoming an immortal—why else would demons and spirits in the world go through great pains to transform into human form?—and at the same time, it is an iron wall that must be broken through for enlightenment. If you can't break through, you can only dissolve your physical form, obediently returning your Dao practice to heaven and earth. How many Qi Refiners in unknown grotto-heavens, with great perseverance, encountering great opportunities, and bearing great fortune, are now nothing but rotted bones.
No matter how you look at it, compare yourself with those above and you'll fall short, with those below and you'll have more. Looking at the mortals outside the mountains, how many leave their names in the annals through the ages? In a hundred years, they are equally pitiful. Isn't that even more lamentable?
Qingjia's thoughts wandered, her spirit traveling ten thousand miles.
When heaven and earth first melted, the primordial qi surged downward.
Recalling the style of the ancients, it is ethereal and unattainable.
Hearing a rustling sound from a distance, Qingjia immediately collected her scattered thoughts and steadied her mind.
Not wanting to reveal any cultivation here, she didn't use any dharma similar to the Buddhist Heavenly Eye. She simply turned to look. On the mountain path came a strange little girl, holding a bamboo staff, carrying a bag and a shoulder pole. Qingjia looked again and again but couldn't gauge the newcomer's true realm.
Earlier, seeing that Fellow Daoist Yuanhu showed no sign of moving for a while, Chen Lingjun had simply sat cross-legged on a bench, propping his chin with both hands, happy to snatch a moment of leisure.
If it were to entertain a male cultivator, no problem—it was his duty. But a female cultivator? Chen Lingjun wasn't Zheng Dafeng or the old chef. It was quite a chore.
Thinking back to those days in the Yu River, although he was always surrounded by distinguished guests and carefree, he wasn't entirely ignorant of the worldly affairs among the mountains. Greeting and seeing off guests was either about enmity or business.
Not to mention those old Nascent Soul immortals known only by name but never seen in person, even a Golden Core cultivator could be said to have the power to cover the sky with one hand. Take the Yu River Water God, Yu Kan, as a host. Before establishing his mansion, due to some early hidden encounters in the mountains, he had a circuitous connection with the Divine Proclamation Sect, and through a re-disciple of Lord Zhen, the controller of a blessed land, he obtained a mansion-establishing treasure talisman similar to an imperial decree. This later led to the splendor of the Blue Bamboo Water Mansion, its form overstepping bounds, resembling a terrestrial dragon palace.
For no reason, he thought of a female Qi Refiner in that Blue Bamboo Water Mansion. He never knew her background. Her face wasn't bad, not exceptionally beautiful, but she had a unique charm as a mature woman... Of course, back then, Chen Lingjun didn't understand such things. According to his friends' private talk, some said she was Yu Kan's forbidden lover or concubine, others that she was a poor soul seeking refuge, whose family had a favor with Yu Kan, hiding in the Blue Bamboo Water Mansion. Chen Lingjun only knew that she stayed indoors all year, frugal to the point of stinginess. She approached cultivation with a determination that even death wouldn't stop her on the path of seeking the Dao—probably what the strange books called "embracing the Dao and dying." Unfortunately, her end was not good.
He wasn't close to her; all their conversations together probably didn't amount to a few sentences. So Chen Lingjun wasn't particularly heartbroken about her fate. He just felt that some things shouldn't have turned out that way, but that's how they ended up.
Chen Lingjun was not prone to melancholy. Only when he thought of old friends and past events by the Yu River did he show emotions matching his appearance. He murmured, "On the path of cultivation, the wind and rain are boundless. Obstacles are like autumn grass that's hard to mow down; achievements are like spring ice that doesn't pile high. There are so many difficulties here—how can the word 'hardship' describe it all?"
Qingjia was somewhat surprised and praised sincerely, "Fellow Daoist speaks profoundly."
Chen Lingjun waved his hand repeatedly and laughed. "I can't say such flowery things. I heard them from Brother Dafeng; I'm just borrowing them."
Qingjia was obviously skeptical.
Chen Lingjun grinned. "He only loses his head when he meets a pretty woman. Normally, he's actually quite sharp."
Qingjia didn't comment.
Before coming to Luopo Mountain to "acknowledge her ancestor," Qingjia had done some solid homework.
Setting aside Mountain Lord Chen Ping'an being the Hidden Official, the Qi Refiners of the Haoran World certainly knew less insider information than she did in the Barren Wilds.
The biggest pity was that there were too few landscape gazettes about Luopo Mountain. By the time Qingjia reached Baoping Continent, she tried to find some written content at mountain ferry ports or immortal inns, but she searched in vain. Occasionally, Qi Refiners mentioned it, but mostly as baseless rumors. Qingjia knew at once they were nonsense that wasn't illegal. When she inquired further, she learned the reason: before Luopo Mountain's rise, it was an insignificant little hill and minor sect, at best considered an appendage of Piyun Mountain, helping the Dali Mountain Lord Wei launder some unlightable money into clean silver for the Northern Sacred Mountain's treasury. Hence, it wasn't worth the ink of mountain gazettes, nor was it suitable for immortal mansions to investigate thoroughly. If they dug too much and made a slip, someone might inadvertently find solid evidence. If a certain chief officer or goddess of Piyun Mountain showed it to Lord Wei, it would be disastrous—a handle to be used against them. That would mean making an enemy of a Northern Sacred Mountain. When Piyun Mountain bore a grudge, they would reciprocate by sending a Night Roaming Banquet invitation to your doorstep. Would you go or not? Not going would slap Lord Wei's face; going, how would you prepare the congratulatory gifts?
Who didn't know that the roll call at the foot of the Northern Sacred Mountain was a unique spectacle? How many immortal sects carrying gifts had suffered great losses here, underestimating their peers' extravagance. They had to supplement their gifts on the spot. Those at the front of the line didn't act like decent people—they liked to puff up their cheeks to appear rich. "You're not letting us off easy, are you? Fine, I'll pay out of my own pocket first, report it to the sect later, and raise the gift standard even higher, making it tough for those behind too."
By the time the young Hidden Official secretly returned to his hometown from the Sword Qi Great Wall, and then led a team to question the Zhengyang Mountain, the Confucian Temple had just banned Haoran gazettes. It was obvious that the Confucian Temple, having received instructions, deliberately suppressed information to prevent Luopo Mountain and Chen Ping'an from becoming too famous. With the Central Earth Confucian Temple and the Dali dynasty reaching a tacit understanding, it was no wonder that in Baoping Continent, finding even a small column in the landscape gazettes was difficult.
Now, in Baoping Continent, Luopo Mountain was recognized for three "peculiarities" and two "oddities."
First peculiarity: a sect-level immortal mansion had very few registered cultivators. Second: a mountain sect had a considerable number of martial arts grandmasters. Third: an orthodox sect had many members originating from mountain spirits and wild monsters.
One oddity: Luopo Mountain, arriving later, managed to force Ruan Qiong, who had established his sect earlier, and the Dragon Spring Sword Sect to withdraw from the old Lizhu Cave Heaven territory and relocate north. Bear in mind that Ruan Qiong was the chief offering priest of the Dali dynasty, yet he had to make room for Luopo Mountain. Luopo Mountain's blazing success and unstoppable momentum were thus imaginable.
It was thought that when Chen the Sword Immortal was young and down-and-out, he might have had some grudge with Ruan Qiong, who was then the last sage of Lizhu Cave Heaven? Now, if they crossed paths on the road or met in the Dali capital's imperial palace, would Lord Ruan need to proactively give way to Chen the Sword Immortal?
Another oddity was the mountain-guarding offering priest of Luopo Mountain. Outsiders only knew she was surnamed Zhou, of great origin, with immeasurable realm.
During the questioning of Zhengyang Mountain, she deliberately suppressed her realm to an extremely low Cave Dwelling realm throughout, the only cultivator who so disregarded the Zhengyang Mountain sword immortals.
It wasn't that a mountain full of sword cultivators like Zhengyang Mountain wasn't worth her making a move—it wasn't even worth her showing a shred of Dao aura.
Even though she had the appearance of a little girl in black, she must be profoundly cultivated, returning to youth with unfathomable depth.
Occasionally, there were dissenting voices speculating whether it was possible that the Offering Priest Zhou's realm was exactly what everyone saw? But soon, information proved the absurdity of such speculation, completely dispelling doubts and disputes. This information first spread from the main city of the Sword Qi Great Wall to the mirage in the north, then through Daoxuan Mountain to the cross-continental ships of the Old Dragon City, and finally reached Baoping Continent. The cultivators of the continent were even slower to learn this than the fact that Chen the Sword Immortal had become the last Hidden Official of the Sword Qi Great Wall. Even on the Sword Qi Great Wall, the Offering Priest Zhou was a named figure, often mentioned by local sword cultivators, respectfully called the Great Water Monster of Yaba Lake.
What kind of place was the Sword Qi Great Wall? The local sword cultivators there looked down on everyone, even the entire Haoran World. How many outsiders could they respect? Moreover, for a spirit creature to gain a foothold and a reputation on the Sword Qi Great Wall—if memory served, wasn't there only that Old Deaf Great Sword Immortal?
Truly great fortune. Before Chen the Sword Immortal rose to prominence as a youth, he managed to invite such a formidable warrior from the North Juzhou to guard his mountain and protect his homeland.
Qingjia asked via mind voice, "Fellow Daoist Jingqing, is this your Luopo Mountain's Offering Priest Zhou?"
Chen Lingjun extended a hand to greet Little Rice Grain while replying via mind voice with a smile, "Yes, she's Zhou Mili. She's on patrol. In our family, she holds the most official titles. For some things, even our mountain lord's two senior brothers have to listen to her. Our Guardian Zhou has a lot of authority."
The speaker was careless, but the listener took it to heart.
Qingjia's heart trembled.
Two senior brothers?
The Sage Wen had only a few direct disciples. Pick any two of the young Hidden Official's senior brothers—Cui Chan, Zuo You, Liu Shiliu, Qi Jingchun...
Qingjia had originally concluded that this water monster, contrary to outside rumors, was genuinely a Cave Dwelling realm. Absolutely.
Now she didn't dare make a rash judgment again.
The little girl in black, who had been hopping and skipping, first saw Jingqing wave, then noticed the unfamiliar woman in plain elegant clothes.
She quickly held her breath, composed herself, and walked properly. She hurried to the pavilion, holding her green bamboo staff and golden shoulder pole, and bowed. "Greetings, Immortal Master. Pleased to meet you."
Generally, anyone who could ascend the mountain wasn't too much of an outsider.
Qingjia returned the greeting. "Zheng Qingjia of Jincui City. Honored to meet the Offering Priest Zhou."
The little girl in black nodded, not good at small talk with strangers. There was an awkward silence.
Qingjia broke the ice with a smile. "Back in Jincui City in the Barren Wilds, I had heard of Lord Chen's tavern and the fame of Yaba Lake wine."
The little girl tentatively asked, "Really?"
Qingjia smiled. "Absolutely no falsehood."
Little Rice Grain's face lit up.
Fame spreads far, ha. A household name, haha.
The Great Water Monster of Yaba Lake—not tall in stature, but big in reputation. Her fame extended across more than one world. Oh ho ho.
As for her realm, it was all a misunderstanding, hey, a small misunderstanding, hehe.
Qingjia was still speculating about the "little girl's" real cultivation. Could she truly be one who had returned to simplicity and possessed the "childlike heart" mentioned in Daoist texts, a "realized Daoist"?
Since she was on patrol anyway, Little Rice Grain was happy to accompany Jingqing and Immortal Master Yuanhu for another trip to Jise Peak.
Qingjia looked at the "little girl" leading the way and shook her head. Luopo Mountain was full of hidden dragons and crouching tigers, nothing to be surprised about. She would stop guessing at the cultivation of this mountain-guarding offering priest.
Chen Lingjun suddenly pointed to a cliff carving by the roadside. "Fellow Daoist Yuanhu, what do you think of these characters?"
Qingjia glanced at it and nodded in appreciation. "It's a first-class cursive script with evident skill. Like a strong man drawing his sword, full of spirit and motion."
Chen Lingjun had already prepared his line and immediately followed up, "It was carved by Zheng Dafeng. Even our mountain lord said his skill is not weak—he has childhood training."
Brother Dafeng, I can only help you this far.
They say for women, a fair complexion covers a hundred ugliness. It's a pity that for men, one ugly feature renders everything futile.
Qingjia held back a long-brewing question that had puzzled her. She had asked Sir Zheng before, but he seemed to know the answer but deliberately didn't tell her, saying she should ask the owner herself when she arrived at Luopo Mountain. The question was: why did Chen Ping'an choose "Luopo" (Down-and-Out) as the name for his Dao field, the foundation of his sect? Down-and-out wasn't a very good term. Mortals valued auspicious words; mountain dwellers had even more taboos. On this matter, even cultivators in her native Barren Wilds had many speculations, arguing endlessly without a conclusion.
Qingjia hesitated. "I have a question, but I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask."
She then laughed at herself. Probably even if she met the young Hidden Official, she wouldn't dare ask such a question to his face out of curiosity.
Little Rice Grain scratched her face and winked at Jingqing. "Jingqing, you answer."
Chen Lingjun was always broad-minded. He laughed. "Ask away, Fellow Daoist. I'll tell you everything I know and hold nothing back."
Outside the mountain, I might be more cautious. But here in the mountain, on my own turf, with the mountain lord backing me up, I'm bold as brass!
Qingjia asked, "This mountain is named 'Luopo.' Does it contain great knowledge?"
Chen Lingjun was stumped. Fellow Daoist Yuanhu's question was tricky! He had never actually thought about this question so close at hand.
He coughed a few times to hint at Little Rice Grain. You chat with the mountain lord about everything. Do you have a ready answer?
Little Rice Grain and Chen Lingjun had excellent tacit understanding. She immediately turned and smiled. "Before coming to Luopo Mountain, I asked Good Man Mountain Lord. He said Luopo Mountain was an ancient name from the local county records. When he was choosing a mountain, he came to inspect it in person. He took a liking to this place and bought it. At the time, Good Man Mountain Lord didn't think much about it."
Actually, Chen Ping'an had told her more, involving some inner secrets not known to outsiders. Little Rice Grain wouldn't spill everything like beans from a bamboo tube. "When meeting people, say only three-tenths of the truth; don't pour out your whole heart."
Qingjia nodded and didn't press further. After a moment's thought, she couldn't help but ask another question. "Two Fellow Daoists, this is a rare opportunity. I have another question I must ask. As everyone knows, humans have three hun souls and seven po souls. The ancient sages of Haoran recorded in ancient books: 'The essence qi and life soul of a person, the form is called po.' The Daoists also say hun is the Yang spirit, po the Yin spirit. But since ancient times, the spiritual texts and secret manuals for Qi Refining and immortality cultivation, as well as the cultivation path of us practitioners, have it that the Golden Core realm can send the Yin spirit out to travel afar, and the Nascent Soul realm can form an incarnated Yang spirit body. The former is intangible, like a soul wandering between heaven and earth; the latter is tangible, more in line with form. This creates a discrepancy with the Yang hun and Yin po. May I ask, how do you explain this principle? Did the ancient books get it wrong, or have we taken a wrong path in cultivation?"
The little girl leading the way quickened her pace.
The little boy in green no longer swung his sleeves wildly. He had to call for backup. He first contacted Brother Dafeng via mind voice, saying the chance had come—Fellow Daoist Yuanhu asked a good question. You hurry over and help answer; she might look at you in a new light... Zheng Dafeng didn't respond. Chen Lingjun had no choice but to silently recite Wei Bo's divine title, "Night Roamer." Wei Bo asked what was the matter. Chen Lingjun quickly explained. Wei Bo responded with a "Get lost!" Chen Lingjun had no choice but to shout again via mind voice to Zheng Dafeng: if you don't come to the rescue, we're no longer brothers! Zheng Dafeng, who had been busy on the back mountain giving boxing pointers to the girl Cao Yang, had to take his leave. He rode the wind and in moments landed on this mountain path. His figure was graceful. When his feet touched the ground, the man casually flicked his sleeves and smiled at Qingjia.
Leaving aside his looks and temperament, he did have some grandmaster demeanor.
Zheng Dafeng concentrated his voice into a line and complained to Chen Lingjun, "You know I'm used to making a living by my face in the jianghu. Theoretical studies are not my forte."
Chen Lingjun rolled his eyes. "Less nonsense. Handle the matter. Don't let outsiders think Luopo Mountain is unlearned."
Zheng Dafeng felt helpless. He had to ask Qingjia to repeat the question. After hearing it, he breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared me. I thought it was a question from a schoolboy to a scholar."
I thought Sister Yuanhu was going to ask how to take one step to heaven and ascend in broad daylight.
But Zheng Dafeng still had to pretend to ponder for a while before answering with a smile. "The Sage Li created characters, but he personally explained and defined only a few. If I remember correctly, one of them is: 'Po is the abundance of ghosts.' Note that the earliest ancient seal script for the words hun and po: hun is cloud above ghost, po is white on the left and ghost on the right. The reason it seems to contradict the Daoist school's tenets is simply a mutual reference of the great Dao of Yin and Yang transformation. Qi Refiners, anciently called Daoists, do things that are inherently going against the flow—stealing Yin and Yang, seizing transformation, turning the heavenly pivot and earthly axis, to transcend the mundane and become immortals and ancestors."
Qingjia seemed to have some insight from these words.
Zheng Dafeng smiled. "A few more digressions?"
Qingjia said seriously, "I'd be glad to hear the details. I'm all ears."
Zheng Dafeng walked beside her and smiled. "Ten thousand years ago was the ancient era. The battle to ascend to heaven, breaking into the Heavenly Court, the collapse of the divine path. After that, the world was settled. What had only been embryo forms—the Three Religions and various schools—developed greatly. Those with heavenly mandates and fortune, immortal talents and high abilities, heard the Dao and were saved, achieved Dao and ascended, each opening and seeking out cave heavens and blessed lands, free and at ease, wanting to coexist with heaven and earth. Next, those who obtained longevity, achieving the terrestrial true man realm, remaining in the human world. Next, those who could attain fleeting joy, but eventually the souls would disperse, the boundary between Yin and Yang and the dark and bright unclear. Seven thousand years ago was the upper ancient era. A batch of remnant ancient divine beings survived, occupying some old divine positions, each performing their duties, their divine authority slightly reduced. Dragons and serpents still managed clouds and rain. The human world began to see City God temples and new official deities enfeoffed by the court, belonging to orthodoxy, as well as countless unofficial shrines everywhere, sharing the incense of the human world, lest the old gods hide among them and revive. In short, 'enfeoffment of gods' was for 'division of gods'; year after year, out with the old, in with the new. The Central Earth Confucian Temple established the tradition of sounding the Spring Report Drum each year—this was actually a declaration to heaven and earth, a reprimand to the beyond. Five thousand years ago was the middle ancient era. Three thousand years ago, the Serpent Slaying Campaign served as a node. Up to now, mountain Qi Refiners loosely call it the modern era. This rain now, that you and I have happened to witness, is probably another turning point. As for how future generations will define it, we'll have to wait another thousand years."
"Besides creating characters and establishing rites ten thousand years ago, severing the communication between heaven and earth, about eight thousand years ago, the Sage Li also joined with a great expert to formulate more detailed rules. The human world of Haoran followed the ancient rites established by the Sage Li, building shrines, offering spirit tablets, compiling family genealogies, and performing incense sacrifices. The three hun and seven po of humans are linked to life and death. When a person lives in the world, dwelling in the Yang world, the souls are united, form and spirit harmonized. After death, the hun qi rises and returns to heaven; the po form falls and returns to earth. The spirit rests in the temple; the buried form is the po. Each gets its place. The hun, by returning to the ancestral temple spirit tablet, receives sacrifices and endures forever, not wandering aimlessly as an orphaned ghost. The po disappears with the decay of the corpse; bones and flesh return to the earth—that is the heavenly mandate. At burial, there must be three wailings, and a coffin-sealing statement must be spoken, only then is the coffin sealed and the po settled. Therefore, besides differing in number, the destinations of hun and po are different, and there is a distinction of primary and secondary: the hun ascends to heaven, the po dwells underground."
"The three patriarchs of the Three Religions are certainly formidable, but I only admire the Sage Li alone."
Chen Lingjun was startled by this. He knew he hadn't misjudged Brother Dafeng—he really had something going on.
Even if what he said was made up on the spot, to be able to compose so much in one breath without panting—that was quite quick-witted!
But when Chen Lingjun heard the last sentence, he quickly and stealthily kicked Zheng Dafeng. Watch your mouth; don't be so presumptuous.
Qingjia stopped, turned sideways, and made a solemn Daoist bow. "Thank you, Sir, for this instruction. It's like clearing away the clouds to see the sun; my mind is suddenly enlightened."
Zheng Dafeng quickly dodged and smiled. "Just some casual chat. Not worth such a grand salute from Fellow Daoist Yuanhu."
Qingjia's eyes sparkled, adding even more beauty, breathtakingly stunning. "Later, may I trouble you by visiting your humble abode?"
Zheng Dafeng shook his head, patted his belly, and smiled. "My knowledge is shallow; it's already empty. If we talk more, I'll show my weakness."
Without further ado, Zheng Dafeng rode the wind away.
Qingjia wanted to stop him, reaching out a hand, but hesitated and gave up.
A transcendent hermit, nothing less.
Meanwhile, that man, in his dashing escape, was secretly gloating. "This playing hard to get is masterfully executed. Absolutely brilliant!"
He had no idea that the sister's resolve to seek the Dao wasn't strong enough. She just stood there, sighing deeply, and gave up.
Zheng Dafeng reached the mountain gate area. He didn't bother to speak with Xianwei but scurried to his house to tidy up the bedding. He shook the bed legs—they were firm and wouldn't creak.
Xianwei was curious and walked over to the house. Zheng Dafeng wiped his mouth and strode swiftly, shouting, "I'll take over the gate duty. You just rest."
Xianwei didn't understand the situation but was happy to take a break. He went to his own house. In his study, the plaque above the desk was inscribed by Zheng Dafeng, made by the old chef. It read "Xuxuan" (Void and Profound), two large ancient seal script characters in gold lacquer.
Imposing.
Genuine gold lacquer.
Actually, Xianwei had several alternative study names, such as "Study for Reading Unseen Books" or "Study for Rereading Books Already Seen."
Life, if you want to be pleasing to the eye and enjoy pure happiness, it's nothing more than reading new books and meeting old acquaintances again.
But after much thought, Xianwei felt one shouldn't forget one's roots. This Dao name had accompanied him for many years. Hanging it there served as a reminder that he had once suffered.
Xianwei entered the study, took out the two serious books from his sleeves, and placed them on the desk. Almost all the stationery items on the desk were gifts from Nuan Shu, added piece by piece during festivals and holidays, accumulating over time.
He sat upright on a four-headed official's hat chair, pulled a book from a small mountain of books on the desk—a Daoist text with a rather long title: "Jade Pure Gold Box Green Flower Secret Text Gold Treasure Inner Alchemy Formula."
Xianwei had a habit when reading: he liked to read the preface and postscript.
After entering Luopo Mountain, Daoist texts and secret manuals he would never have dreamed of before were now within reach. But this habit remained unchanged. The reason was simple: besides the beginning and end, the middle part—he couldn't understand it.
Of course, he recognized the characters, but strung together, he felt lost in fog, confused. He always felt he couldn't understand, no benefit. Not to mention this relatively abstract Daoist book in his hand, even those immortal cultivation secret manuals that explained processes in detail and marked all the passes and methods—Xianwei read them and it was like not reading at all. No waves stirred in him; instead, he felt drowsy and wanted to doze off...
He wasn't upset about this. Xianwei had always known he wasn't a true immortal seed, lacking the vessel for the Dao gate. That he had stumbled into learning techniques and become a second-realm Qi Refiner was pure luck.
As for the gate duty, it was really just showing up and sitting down. When free, Xianwei would come to the study to drink some old wine, have a few snacks, read books, and play chess.
Don't think Daoist Xianwei slacked off. Every day, both day and night, his lessons were never neglected. He didn't dare be lazy, fearing he might lose his job and wander the jianghu again. But Xianwei admitted that limited by his talent, progress was slow. He hadn't been too anxious before, knowing that Luopo Mountain didn't care about realm level—it was fine to muddle along. But now he had a disciple, a formal indoor disciple at that. Moreover, Lin Feijing's realm was not low. According to Lord Wei, this child had a deep Dao foundation and no light immortal bones—it was a stroke of luck to have him as a disciple. The key point was that the disciple's realm was higher than the master's—how improper was that? So Daoist Xianwei felt some loss of face.
Actually, Wei Bo's words were ambiguous. On the surface, they were congratulating Daoist Xianwei, but in truth they were praising Lin Feijing's extraordinary deep fortune to have such a master, becoming the nominal eldest disciple of "Daoist" Xianwei.
But Xianwei had no idea about these twists. For his once disheartened pursuit of the Dao, he finally regained a bit of competitive spirit.
Since he could remember, he had dreamed almost every day. But for nine consecutive days, he had not dreamed at all.
Xianwei didn't think much of it.
Living secluded in the mountains, behind closed doors, burning incense deep in the night, keeping away sleep demons—this already constituted pure happiness. Supplemented by reading, it was the best prescription for our kind to settle our nature and spirit.
After reading the Daoist text for a while, he yawned. Needing to perk up, he switched to a book he could skip through by following the folds. Instantly, he felt divinely inspired, routing a million sleep-inducing bugs.
Reading the same books, Wei Bo at the Northern Sacred Mountain's study enjoying leisure—the recent Night Roaming Banquet had kept him busy; he needed to take it easy.
In the past, he had the misfortune of people using various excuses to host Night Roaming Banquets, finding any excuse to hold one. Now that he had a divine title, it should finally come to an end.
At present, there was one matter that needed discussion with Chen Ping'an. The Dali court was about to secretly send a batch of sixteen individuals—cultivation seedlings with immortal vessels and good talents for martial arts from childhood.
Half of them were from influential families, all from the top noble clans of Dali, or good seedlings these families had found and cultivated.
The other half were sword and martial arts prodigies carefully selected by the Dali Sticky Pole Corps from the various southern kingdoms of Baoping Continent.
Moreover, it was said that in a year or two, a second batch would be sent, striving to have them all be sword cultivators.
After being interrupted by Chen Lingjun, Wei Bo put down his book, walked barefoot out of the house, stood under the eaves, and habitually reached out to twist the golden earring.
"Looking at the mirror of man, through the clouds one sees even more wonderfully."
The Central Sacred Mountain's Jin Qing was always direct, saying that his Piyun Mountain's incense was so prosperous, topping all five sacred mountains, because of his face.
Wei Bo didn't bother to refute; he accepted it as a compliment.
According to the schedule from a previous flying sword message, those youths would arrive at Niujiao Ferry in two days on a military vessel. Chen Ping'an was not currently on the mountain, perhaps busy or with his own plans. In any case, he hadn't immediately replied to the Ministry of Justice. The Dali court began to worry that they might be shut out. What if they delivered the people only to have them return the same day? Even the emperor knew of this matter, so he had the Ministry of Rites send a confidential letter to Piyun Mountain. Wei Bo had to personally visit the Ministry of Justice in the capital and ask with a smile, "Is there a third batch?" The other party was momentarily speechless. On this continent, any other mountain—no matter how deeply rooted, like the Divine Proclamation Sect or the Yunlin Jiang clan—would be overjoyed to have someone send young talents their way. Only Luopo Mountain had enough confidence to say it didn't seek such things. Moreover, Chen Ping'an's new position as National Teacher was unknown to outsiders but clear to the Dali high officials.
Luopo Mountain had publicly declared a twenty-year mountain closure, but Wei Bo didn't think Chen Ping'an would refuse these children. A large part of the reason was interesting: Chen Ping'an, as a teacher and superior sect leader, clearly felt the pressure from the Cyan Lotus Sword Sect. It couldn't be that for the entire twenty years, while the subordinate sect flourished and thrived, Luopo Mountain stayed closed and perpetually quiet.
Chen Ping'an had even begun preparing an important task: to compile a detailed orthodox lineage for Luopo Mountain, personally edit books, both Qi Refining texts and martial arts secret manuals.
So the only question was where to settle those children. Certainly not on Luopo Mountain like Cao Yin and Cao Yang—that was beyond doubt. Cui Dongshan and Pei Qian had recently purchased nearby Jump Fish Mountain and Fusheng Hill, very close to Luopo Mountain. There was also Huiming Mountain, a subordinate Dao field. All three were neighbors to the main peak, fairly suitable. If they deliberately separated Qi Refiners and martial artists, settling them on Jump Fish Mountain and Fusheng Hill separately would be more appropriate... Wei Bo suddenly cursed to himself. Damn it, this is Luopo Mountain's household matter. Why am I worrying about it?
Complain as he might, he still had to do things. For example, the far-traveling Lu Yong of Qinghu Palace—since Chen Ping'an wasn't on the mountain, he himself would have to visit Luopo Mountain.
Because Lu Yong wasn't an ordinary guest, and Chen Ping'an was very attached to old friendships, Wei Bo put on his boots, took a step, and appeared outside a residence, knocking on the door ring.
Lu Yong opened the door. Seeing Lord Wei himself, he quickly made a Daoist bow and offered congratulations. Wei Bo already knew the purpose of Lu Yong's visit and didn't beat around the bush. He smiled, "Logically, True Man Lu didn't need to make this trip in person. With the relationship between your two sects, it's not a casual acquaintance. In the mortal world, it would be considered families on such intimate terms that they share everything."
"Speaking of friendship, True Man Lu really should come to Luopo Mountain. In the past, you've visited too seldom. It's always been Lord Chen troubling Qinghu Palace. You must come here and let Luopo Mountain fulfill its duties as host."
"As for Zhao Zhu's becoming a guest elder of Luopo Mountain and having a seat in the Jise Peak Ancestral Hall, you can rest assured—it's already set in stone."
Hearing this, Lu Yong was overcome with emotion.
On one hand, he hadn't expected that Lord Wei, with whom he had never dealt before, would so value him and Qinghu Palace. More surprisingly, Lord Wei, after all, was an outsider to Luopo Mountain, or half an outsider, yet he dared to make such a guarantee. Lord Chen must have frequently mentioned Qinghu Palace to Lord Wei.
Wei Bo asked with a smile, "Did Chen Lingjun mention that this residence was reserved for you by Lord Chen himself?"
Chen Lingjun hadn't mentioned it, but the old true man stroked his beard and smiled. "Fellow Daoist Jingqing did tell me. I really don't deserve it."
Wei Bo pointed to the couplet on the wall and smiled. "It was personally written by Chen Ping'an. One of a kind."
The old true man looked at it, stunned. He was silent for a long time, then murmured, "I truly don't deserve it. I accept it with shame."
"Generous and chivalrous, not bound by trivialities, gold and silver come and go.
Wide in social connections, treat others with sincerity, people grow more prosperous with time."
Wei Bo smiled. "I'll head back to Piyun Mountain now. You're welcome to visit me anytime."
Lu Yong then remembered something and was about to take out a prepared congratulatory gift from his sleeve.
"Your presence is already a heavy gift."
But Wei Bo gently pressed the old true man's arm and smiled, shaking his head. "Anything more would be affectation. What, do you only consider Chen Ping'an a friend and not me?"
Lu Yong was speechless for a moment, only clasping his fists.
As they were about to reach a cliffside pavilion near the Jise Peak Ancestral Hall, Qingjia, who had no need for rest, asked to stop there.
"Sun and moon, two fireflies;
Heaven and earth, one magpie's nest."
What a pavilion called "Self Solemn."
Xianwei put down his book, rubbed his eyes, and turned to look at the study plaque.
"Read through thirty thousand volumes of Daoist texts, knowing and not knowing.
Wrest achievement and fame for six thousand years, contentment and discontent."
Xianwei felt uneasy. He had once asked the mountain lord, "The mountain lord gave me a couplet with such bold spirit. I, with my low realm, fear I cannot suppress it. Is it truly appropriate?"
At the time, Chen Ping'an just smiled without speaking.
Xianwei refused to accept it, saying it would be more suitable in the mountain lord's study.
Chen Ping'an said it was more suitable here, then gave him a Daoist salute.
Xianwei was at a loss, thought for a moment, then returned a scholar's bow.
After Chen Ping'an left the study, he stepped out of the house gate, hands tucked in sleeves, and ascended the mountain.
What Dao do you learn, what cultivation do you practice, what master do you need to study under, what art do you need to learn?
You are the first Dao transmitter in the human world!
Chen Ping'an considered himself bold. In the inn of the Dali capital, he had only dared to brace himself and say, "Let me take you back to the mountain to learn Dao and cultivate together."
One day, if you recall your former self, you will arise with the thought to enter the mountain and cultivate the Dao.
The human world has countless green mountains. Who would dare not come to you?