Chapter 1155: Visiting the Mountain
A sparrow in a cage beneath heaven, a swallow before the hall in the rivers and lakes, the moon at the bottom of a well reflected in the Dao heart, a wild goose beside the clouds for wealth and honor, and human life like duckweed on water.
Standing inside a waterside pavilion, the old man—who held the status of a Yang Clan guest retainer and called himself the Deaf Daoist—tucked his hands into his sleeves and pinched his fingers to calculate. He frowned slightly, changed his mind, and decided to chat a bit longer with Huang Zhen. He asked, seemingly casually, "Do you know your master's true identity?"
Huang Zhen shook his head in confusion. He only knew that Ma Kuxuan, who was both his initiator and a fellow townsman, had an extraordinary origin, could command spirits, and was a standout among the younger cultivators of Vase Continent. In the Battle of Old Dragon City, Ma Kuxuan had shone brilliantly. He had the capital to be unruly and arrogant, looking down on others. In contrast, Huang Zhen had left his hometown for many years, drifting alone and rootless. How could he not revere and fear such an initiator, yearning to follow him?
In the Little Four Prefectures region, there had always been a spirit of defiance against the rule of the Jade Capital. Historically, Daoist officials from the Jade Capital rarely appeared here. Of course, cultivators from the Little Four Prefectures, no matter how gifted, seldom took the initiative to enter the Jade Capital for initiation. It had been a mutual dislike for three thousand years.
Huang Zhen was silent for a moment, then said with self-contempt, "My master is like a dragon in the sky, while I am a loach in a muddy pond. I only hope that in the future, when I achieve some small success in cultivation, I won't disgrace my master's reputation too much. Beyond that, I dare not hope for more."
The Deaf Daoist made no comment on this and said on his own, "The so-called 'deaf' means ears that do not hear matters outside the window."
Huang Zhen tentatively asked, "Is your true Daoist title actually 'Dragon Daoist'?"
The old man laughed. "I disdain even to kill, so how could I be a Dragon Daoist?"
He quickly changed the subject and revealed a heavenly secret to Huang Zhen. "There are three reasons why Ma Kuxuan threw you into the Little Four Prefectures instead of elsewhere in the Qingming World. First, the female lake lord of Leize Lake, Lei Yu—her true form is a serpent, akin to a dragon. Second, Leize Lake is a stacked lake, containing a great true meaning of thunder magic. Since several thousand years ago, Lei Yu was the first to steal the opportunity, open a cave heaven, and refine part of the thunder magic, reaching the peak of the Flying Ascension realm. If we trace back to the source, Lei Yu is a thief who took advantage of a vacancy, while Ma Kuxuan is the true master who left home for many years and abandoned the old dwelling. Lei Yu is naturally guilty about this, so she has treated you with special regard, given you extra favor, and secretly looked after you a great deal. The last reason, and the most crucial, is that I chose to live in seclusion at Leize Lake. I refused the Jade Capital's summons and recruitment three times. But even Sect Leader Yu and Sect Leader Lu do not know the inside story of this secret. And I have my own reasons for hiding in Leize Lake—family scandals should not be aired publicly, so I won't go into details. You only need to understand one thing: that great half of the thunder magic that Lei Yu has not yet refined is the foundation for your future Dao attainment. When you go down the mountain and return to Leize Lake, I will have Lei Yu vacate the cave heaven for you to occupy. From then on, cut off from the mortal world. How much time it will take for you to emerge from seclusion depends entirely on your own will—whether it is a small achievement or a great achievement, it is up to your own fortune."
Huang Zhen nodded and asked, "Will I have a chance to meet my master again?"
As long as there was a path to tread, Huang Zhen was not afraid of a long period of obscurity.
To cross the world and return to his hometown of Haoran, he had to start from the Flying Ascension realm.
At present, Huang Zhen did not consider himself a cultivation genius. Even the Upper Five Realms seemed like flowers in a mirror or the moon in water—visible yet unreachable.
The Deaf Daoist shook his head. "No chance."
But it was not to pass a final judgment on Huang Zhen, asserting that his future Dao achievements would be low.
Rather, it was because Ma Kuxuan had already died and his Dao vanished. Thus, how could master and disciple reunite?
"The great Dao mourns, and the heavens rain heavily."
"One prefecture's mountains and rivers sink into a lake."
Now the islands were all former peaks of mountain ranges. The so-called Little Four Prefectures were the four largest among these islands. Completely different from Haoran World, the Qingming side had abundant mountain luck but scarce water luck. In the past, the Little Four Prefectures region was the densest area of mountains in the world.
Countless majestic cities and spirit-rich immortal cave mansions slept at the bottom of the water. For three thousand years, many cultivators had coveted this treasure, but they were all found out by Lei Yu and the old Daoist with the title Taiyi, either directly suppressed, imprisoned, or forced to redeem themselves with objects or money, then expelled from the Little Four Prefectures, compelled to swear never to set foot in the waters of the two lakes again.
Huang Zhen had been by the old man's side for these years and was familiar with these old histories, but he dared not show the slightest impatience.
The Dragon Daoist said regretfully, "Gao Gu is ultimately not as clever as Yao Qing."
How many affairs in the human world are like swan tracks on mud and snow?
The Dragon Daoist suddenly asked a seemingly irrelevant question. "In your hometown, what kind of people definitely cannot become officials in the court?"
It was not a difficult question. Huang Zhen blurted out without thinking, "Those of base register."
But after thinking a bit more, Huang Zhen felt it was not right and shook his head. "I can't think of the answer."
The base-registered could not be officials—that also seemed incorrect. In the Great Li Dynasty, many people had escaped the base register and either joined the military or entered officialdom.
The Dragon Daoist laughed. "Probably old men who have been high officials, been demoted back to their hometowns, and are under the surveillance of local officials."
Huang Zhen was completely baffled.
Could this senior have once been an official in some dynasty?
The Dragon Daoist looked up at the sky and said inexplicably, "The world is truly strange. The name of Zhou Mi's study in the Barbaric World is 'Haoran Study.'"
He recalled a saying that had spread from the Haoran World side and clicked his tongue in wonder. The old man extended a withered hand. "With a single hand on the spot, after all, I return to myself as the hero of ten thousand men."
Not everyone was qualified to be a retainer of the Hongnong Yang Clan. The old man had another identity: he was hailed as the foremost painter of fish in the present age.
His masterpiece was a collection of eighty-one water paintings on silk with colors, compiled into an album.
The old man smiled. "I envy you all very much. You still have the strength to love and hate."
The youth stared wide-eyed toward tomorrow.
The old man needed to exert effort to recall yesterday.
Flowing water does not stay for the green mountains.
Mao Zhui spoke to the two women with his heart voice. "Huayang Palace will not ally with you. As for the attitude of Difei Mountain, you will have to discuss it with Mountain Lord Gao Fu."
Xu Mian laughed. "Forget it. Since Palace Master Mao won't agree, I suppose Mountain Lord Gao will only be more cautious."
Xu Yingning said, "We just came here to try our luck. If it works, that's best. If not, no harm done."
Mao Zhui reminded them, "It's time for you to let Xu Xuyuan leave the Qingming World."
Xu Mian nodded. "With Palace Master Mao's words, our trip is not in vain."
Xu Yingning gave a surprised "Eh?" in her heart, wondering why she had come.
Seeing Mao Zhui pretend not to know, Xu Yingning said nothing.
Mao Zhui shifted his gaze to the woman with a veiled hat, but his eyes actually fell on "Yang Zhao." He said, "Brother Shenlou is already in the mountain. You can go see her at Zizai Pavilion."
Yang Zhao's eyes sparkled. He nodded. "We'll go right away."
So the "handsome youth" wearing a Three Mountain Crown and a deep purple straight robe was actually the real Yang Zheng, the woman of noble destiny from the Hongnong Yang Clan.
The one with a short knife at her belt, disguised as the maid "Yang Yupian," was Yang Zhao.
On the other hand, the woman with a veiled hat was the true maid, Yang Yupian.
One had to admit that the Hongnong Yang Clan indeed produced handsome men and beautiful women. Almost all the men were handsome and spirited, and there was a nest of beauties.
Yang Zheng smiled sweetly and praised, "Well deserving of the White Bone True Man. That's right. Even life and death can be seen through—how could he not see through poverty and wealth, hardship and success? My humble and clumsy tricks are an embarrassment to the wise."
Yang Yupian, seeing that Palace Master Mao had already seen through the truth, immediately changed her position and kept her proper place.
That protector of the Hongnong Yang Clan also removed the obfuscation, revealing his true form: a towering figure with a long sword at his side, clad in five-colored armor.
He gathered the Yang Clan's literary luck, martial luck, official luck, and incense luck all onto himself.
He first exchanged a heart-voice word with Yang Zheng, obtained permission, then bid Mao Zhui farewell, left the place, and went alone to see the Taiyi Mountain God.
Mao Zhui said to the maid holding a round fan, "A few words?"
According to reason, the disparity between their statuses was like heaven and earth. To be favored by such a great cultivator seemed surprising, yet she did not seem at all surprised. Yang Zheng and Yang Zhao also appeared calm.
Earlier, Huang Zhen had felt she looked familiar—that was not an illusion.
This maid in a yellow shirt and small hat, using the alias Lu Zhu, was actually Zhu Lu, who had been brought back to the Qingming World by Lu Chen and taken on a trip to the Zhuolu Ancient Battlefield.
Mao Zhui had already seen through her identity. Too lazy to use heart speech, he said directly, "Gao Gu has a letter for me to give to you."
Zhu Lu showed a mocking expression. "A rebellious minister like me, worthy of a personal letter from Grandmaster Gao? Not just a perfunctory oral message?"
Mao Zhui was unconcerned. He simply took a letter from his sleeve and handed it to Zhu Lu.
Before he had become aware that Lu Chen was collecting heart appearances and creating the Zhuxu Temple, the White Bone True Man had not gone into hiding much. He loved to travel the world and had vast knowledge, practically a living history book. For example, during the Battle of Zhuolu in Youzhou years ago, when Gao Gu had a fierce fight with a female Daoist, the White Bone True Man watched from afar—he was one of the few witnesses.
Zhu Lu hesitated for a moment, then took the letter, light as a feather. She turned slightly sideways, took out the letter paper inside, glanced at the contents, and looked gloomy. She quickly put it back in the envelope and dropped it into her sleeve.
Huang Zhen and Zhu Lu—this pair of a man and a woman—were precisely the two people from their hometown who hated Chen Ping'an the most.
A meeting in a foreign land, yet still they parted ways and each continued their own journey.
By the Fish-Watching Pavilion, the old man seemed to have some feeling. He looked at Huang Zhen and said with deep meaning, "To harm oneself internally with likes and dislikes is not the right path for cultivation."
Love and hate are both double-edged swords and boomerangs.
Huang Zhen's expression froze. Finally, he made up his mind. He said softly, "An arrow shot from a bow doesn't return. I can't care too much."
The old man never wanted to get too involved in such personal grudges, so he did not continue urging him to change his mind. "When you return to Leize Lake and have your own Dao field, just focus on cultivating well."
Huang Zhen nodded. "That person is at the peak of his power now. Without complete certainty, I will never provoke him."
The old man teased, "The fact that you haven't been scared out of your wits already counts as courage."
Sensing Huang Zhen's thoughts, the old man laughed. "I am a person without realm, without physical body, without soul. Illusory and ethereal. Call it a sliver of true spirit or an obsession—in any case, I am a carefree man without official duties. My identity is trivial and inconsequential."
Children who are anxious to grow up always think childhood is a book they can never finish writing, and they rush to flip through a book of youth.
But the old man knew the taste of dusk—the flickering candle in the wind, the sky suddenly darkening, the feeling of being old and worn.
He took a green talisman from his sleeve and handed it to Huang Zhen. "Hold this talisman, visualize in your mind, and you can shrink the earth to Lei Yu's Meifeng Dao mansion. She will take you to the thunder pool cave mansion at the bottom of the water. Go."
Huang Zhen took the talisman with both hands, carefully put it away, knelt down and kowtowed to thank the old man.
The old man hesitated for a moment, then reached out to help him up.
Huang Zhen stood still, visualized Meifeng in his mind, and with a flash of golden light, disappeared without a trace.
A female Daoist with the appearance of a young girl appeared at that spot, made a bow, and said respectfully, "Greetings, Senior."
The old man smiled. "I am not worthy."
Over on the livelier side, Mao Zhui suddenly said to Nan Qiang, "Tell Gao Qiong to come here. I have something to tell her."
Nan Qiang didn't understand but still complied.
Apart from Huayang Palace and Difei Mountain, only a few great cultivators knew that Gao Gu's ancestral home was not Youzhou, but a remote small kingdom in Ruzhou.
The wall within flowers blooms, the fragrance outside.
Descending the mountain to temper the heart and leading people up the mountain is one of the Daoist lessons.
There were over a hundred initiated Daoists in Damu Temple, and Gao Qiong was just one of them, with ordinary talent and bones. Only because the sword cultivator Gao Qiong had a special immortal fate, which others could not envy. She and Grandmaster Gao Gu were from the same hometown. Moreover, Gao Gu personally led her up the mountain to cultivate.
Difei Mountain and Huayang Palace had countless Daoist officials, but only Gao Qiong had this honor.
Nan Qiang went to Damu Temple, led Gao Qiong to fly on a sword and rush over. The latter was trembling with fear and looked restrained.
Mao Zhui said, "Grandmaster Gao told you that after leaving seclusion, you should immediately return to your hometown. When to return to the mountain is not fixed—follow fate."
Gao Qiong quickly bowed. "I respectfully obey the Palace Master's decree."
After all, both the issuer of the decree and the messenger were the Palace Master.
Ruzhou, Nanshan Kingdom, Yingchuan Commandery, Xu County. Four names: state, kingdom, commandery, county. Apart from Ruzhou, none had any renown.
Gao Qiong had left home young. She remembered a small Daoist temple near her hometown, but it was similar to the neighboring Changshe County. The incense offerings at both small temples were very meager. It seemed they didn't even have the morning "opening of the great stillness" on the first and fifteenth days, nor the evening "closing of the great stillness" on the fourteenth and thirtieth.
Nan Qiang said, "Palace Master, may I accompany Gao Qiong on the way to protect her?"
She had no impression of Nanshan Kingdom, only knew that there seemed to be a Gulü Kingdom, with a sect called Jin Guo Sect, which barely counted as having some small influence.
Mao Zhui nodded. "As you wish."
Yin Xian asked, "Palace Master, may I travel with them?"
Unexpectedly, Mao Zhui shook his head. "On this down-the-mountain journey, put Ruzhou last. You can go to Bingzhou first. Set off immediately, don't delay."
Yin Xian didn't think much and laughed. "I receive the decree."
Our own Youzhou has the Xuanhuang Dynasty, plus Ruzhou's Chijin Dynasty, and Bingzhou's Qingshen Dynasty—all are among the few flourishing dynasties in the Qingming World. Going early or late didn't matter.
Mao Zhui waved his hand. "Don't worry about mountain affairs."
In the small pavilion, the two sat facing each other. The old man, whose aura was as somber as a clay statue in a temple, couldn't help saying, "Fellow Daoist, to be blunt, with you being so exhausted in thought and bitter in contemplation, this is by no means the way to long life and long vision... The habit of liking to teach others—truly an old habit difficult to change."
Yang Qing smiled and nodded. "I accept your instruction."
The female Daoist Yang Qing, Dao name Shenlou, was one of the ten candidates in the Qingming World.
She was born into the Hongnong Yang Clan, but her name had long been removed from the clan genealogy. She voluntarily left the clan, became the vice mountain lord of Shoushan Pavilion, and owner of Haishan Immortal Lodge. Since childhood, Yang Qing had displayed extremely high cultivation talent, especially in Ziwei Doushu and Taiyi Shenshu, as if she were a divine beast.
And her own younger brother was the key figure that caused Gao Gu and Yu Dou to become enemies.
On the surface, one person's death directly led to the Hongnong Yang Clan, Difei Mountain, and Shoushan Pavilion, indeed the entire Youzhou, to completely sour their relationship with the Jade Capital. But at root, it was a form of intangible contention for the Dao. For example, a person with absolutely no selfishness and utterly without fault seemed to act on behalf of heaven in a world.
In terms of family genealogy seniority, Yang Qing, who looked like a young girl, was the great-great-grand-aunt of Yang Zheng and Yang Zhao.
The old man asked, "Brother Shenlou, what scene did you see?"
Yang Qing was silent for a moment, then said with heart voice, "Shocking."
Not long ago, Yang Qing entrusted her friend Lei Yu to deliver a letter to the Yang Clan.
Yang Qing rarely appeared in public. The last time she showed herself was when she and Lei Yu went to the outer heavens to congratulate Yu Xuan on reaching the fourteenth realm.
On that secret letter, which was barely enough to be called a family letter, there was both a reminder from Fellow Daoist Taiyi, or to be precise, a warning.
And also a scene she had deduced and witnessed with her own eyes, turned into written words: a prophetic saying.
"The mountain flowers are about to blaze, the flowing water like fire, several prefectures sink, living beings suffer calamity."
The great chaos calamity is about to arrive. Dimly visible, someone picks stars, commands gods, topples cities, opens the heavens.
Yang Qing sighed quietly in her heart.
Yang Zheng, Yang Zhao—these young elites of the clan—were all destined to face the calamity.
Not only the Hongnong Yang Clan and Shoushan Pavilion unable to stay out of it, but the entire Qingming World has its own calamity.
If every thought arises as a cause, and present experiences are all effects, then who dares to claim no deficit and no surplus? Even if one's current life is so, what about previous lives? In the end, it's all about debt and repayment. For cultivators, how difficult it is to seek the completion of merits in the vast mortal world!
Taking this opportunity, Yang Qing consulted the old man on some cultivation matters. The old man spoke without reservation, holding nothing back.
When the group of people walked toward the pavilion, the two inside stopped their discussion.
The Dragon Daoist smiled. "I have the honor to witness such a grand event."
Luo Yi laughed. "Indeed, a timely encounter. Pity there is no historian to record it, so it won't be immortalized in history."
The old man self-mockingly said, "I am a person who cannot bear the light and cannot appear on the stage. It's not suitable for me to stay here long. I won't exchange too many pleasantries with these accomplished true Daoists."
He stood up and prepared to leave Difei Mountain.
At this moment, within Huayang Palace, near a Zizai Pavilion, there were no fewer than five candidates for the ten of the Qingming World.
White Bone True Man, Mao Zhui.
Shoushan Pavilion, female Daoist Yang Qing, Dao name Shenlou.
Xu Mian, master of Qingni Cave Heaven, founder of a Dao lineage, and originator of the Shuzhuang Female Officials.
Xu Yingning, who occupies a Tianrang Blessed Land, also the founding master of Juanlian Hongsushou.
"Fire Official" Luo Yi, founding emperor of the Hengyang Dynasty.
In comparison, Xu Xuyuan, whose realm was somewhat insufficient, was quite helpless. "So I'm just here to make up the numbers."
In front of Yang Qing, he had fallen in love at first sight and had never concealed his feelings.
A woman three years older is like holding a gold brick. Xu Jun got to marry Zhaoge—how could he not marry Yang Qing?
Yang Zhao, who had a feminine appearance, pressed his hand on his short knife, his eyes fervent.
This youth was only afraid of the world being too peaceful, unwilling to be a leisurely idler. He only wanted to be the pillar in the turbulent currents, to pluck chestnuts from the fire, to achieve wealth and merit, and to establish his accomplishments in one move. Whether chessboard, chopping board, or battlefield, honor and disgrace, gain and loss, life and death—he wanted to go through it all with a bang, to consider life worthwhile.
Each harbored their own thoughts.
Yang Qing murmured, "Best to have not a single thing in the quiet."
The Dragon Daoist sighed deeply and thought to himself, "The third natal flying sword should probably appear soon."
Just then, a Daoist arrived at Difei Mountain in great style.
His appearance, even without any words, still made every Daoist in the mountain, regardless of realm or years of cultivation, feel their Dao hearts unstable and suffocated.
This Daoist, who had been the Sect Leader of the Jade Capital for eight thousand years, stood at the foot of the mountain as a visitor, yet made Difei Mountain seem like the guest.
In the mountain, Mao Zhui felt complex, Yang Qing's expression was solemn, Xu Mian and Xu Yingning, the sisters, felt like they were facing a great enemy. Even Luo Yi, who had never wanted to antagonize the Jade Capital from start to finish, felt his situation extremely awkward.
In an instant, the entire Difei Mountain flashed with dazzling colors all around—the signs of formations being quietly activated.
What did it matter that this was not the Jade Capital? What did it matter that the other party did not carry a sword or wear a Dharma robe? What did it matter that there were five candidates in the mountain at this moment?
Yu Dou, however, did not ascend the mountain.
He stood at the mountain gate, took a glance, and left.