Chapter 909: Carefree Wanderings
Above the vast sea, not long after the event where the sword immortals joined together to drag the moon, a mountain ferryboat was suspended in midair, flying swiftly, with two Dali sword boats flanking it for protection.
Its massive bulk blotted out the sun and covered the sky, passing precisely over Osmanthus Island.
All the immortal ferryboats in Bottle Gourd Continent capable of cross-continent long-distance travel had long been requisitioned and borrowed by the Confucian Temple and the Dali court, and the Osmanthus Island, belonging to the Fan clan of Old Dragon City, was no exception.
However, not long after the Confucian Temple discussions concluded, the Fu family of Old Dragon City and the Ai'ai Continent and Liuxia Continent each leased a newly built ferryboat to maintain trade routes.
Although this kind of thing had a hint of opportunism, it was permitted by the Central Continent Confucian Temple and was not considered prohibited. This allowed those few sect-level immortal families capable of independently building cross-continent ferryboats to make a lot of money.
On Osmanthus Island, there was a private residence called Gui Mai Courtyard.
Madam Gui rubbed her brow. She had recently been truly annoyed by that Xian Cha.
Jin Su held back her laughter, finding it difficult.
It turned out that during the reunion at the Central Continent Confucian Temple earlier, Xian Cha had spoken from the heart. Seeing his sincerity, Madam Gui had relented slightly and said a polite remark, allowing him to occasionally visit Osmanthus Island.
At the time, she had her own considerations. Fan Junmao, the Great Mountain Lord of the Southern Sacred Mountain, had dropped in realm all the way from Jade Purity to Dragon Gate. Therefore, the Fan family urgently needed a fifth-realm guest elder. And the old boatman who had safely escorted this cross-continent ferryboat past Dragon Trench for many years happened to be Xian Cha's disciple. Madam Gui hoped that Xian Cha could give more guidance to the disciple's cultivation.
But Madam Gui never imagined that her so-called "occasionally" and what Xian Cha considered "occasionally" were two completely different things.
As she had expected, she had received an apology letter personally handwritten by the young Hidden Official.
Initially, Madam Gui thought Chen Ping'an was overthinking things. Now she felt that if Chen Ping'an dared to come to Osmanthus Island, she would dare to kick him out directly.
A knock sounded at the courtyard gate, exactly three knocks, no more, no less.
Madam Gui frowned slightly. Someone had approached the gate, yet she had been completely unaware.
Jin Su was about to get up and open the door, but Madam Gui waved her hand, signaling her disciple to stay put. Then, with a flick of her sleeve, she opened the gate.
Standing at the entrance was a young Daoist, beaming brightly. He raised his arm and waved toward the master and disciple inside the courtyard.
This Fan family ferryboat did not accept passengers boarding midway. Jin Su glanced at the young Daoist's headdress—it was a lotus crown—and she assumed he was some wandering Daoist from the Shengao Sect.
In Bottle Gourd Continent, only Daoists of the Shengao Sect wore both fishtail crowns and lotus crowns.
But ordinarily, Osmanthus Island, having returned from the Ruins of Return to Bottle Gourd Continent via the return channel this time, had no passengers on board, let alone any Daoist.
Madam Gui remained silent. She stood up and merely offered a slight bow.
Jin Su quickly followed her master in rising.
The young Daoist hastily returned the bow, then sighed emotionally as he straightened up. "Parted for a thousand years, then another thousand years. Fortunately, Madam Gui's grace remains as before, making one forget the mundane."
Madam Gui smiled but said nothing.
The young Daoist swaggered into the courtyard. "So this is Miss Jin Su. Sun Jiashu marrying Miss Jin Su is truly a match made in heaven."
The osmanthus tree of the Golden Osmanthus Temple in Bottle Gourd Continent, considered by later mountain cultivators to be an authentic species from the Moon Palace, originated from this Daoist's early years when he sailed the seas. He had chanced upon Osmanthus Island and borrowed a few osmanthus branches there. Later, when he landed in Bottle Gourd Continent and passed by the Golden Osmanthus Temple, he casually performed this "immortal" feat, and now he was bragging about it himself.
He was truly idle.
But Madam Gui never imagined that Lu Chen, after traveling to the Azure Underworld, would actually end up as the youngest disciple of the Dao Ancestor and the Third Instructor of the Jade Capital.
In fact, during that journey, Lu Chen had also met the then-head of the Shengao Sect and had given some guidance on Daoist methods to a young acolyte who had just begun cultivating.
That young acolyte was named Qi Zhen.
Naturally, Jin Su could not identify this young Daoist's identity.
Even if he made his identity clear, she probably wouldn't dare to believe it.
Before sitting down, the young Daoist looked around and asked with a smile, "What bad luck. Old Gu isn't on the ferryboat?"
So it was that after leaving the Sword Qi Great Wall, Lu Chen was in no hurry to return to the Azure Underworld. Instead, he strictly followed the agreement with the Hidden Official and had to make a trip to Cloud Mist Mountain in Bottle Gourd Continent.
And the speed of the Jade Capital Third Instructor's wind-riding was simply... like a turtle crawling.
Madam Gui said helplessly, "Instructor Lu, why ask what you already know?"
Wasn't it precisely because he wasn't here that you, the Jade Capital Third Instructor, were willing to show yourself?
Lu Chen sat down and tapped the stone table with his fingers, the meaning clear. Where's the wine?
Jin Su used her mind to ask her master if she should bring out a few jars of osmanthus wine to entertain the guest. Madam Gui certainly wouldn't agree. She didn't want Osmanthus Island to have too much interaction with this Third Instructor.
That Xian Cha, the renowned Gu Qing song throughout the entire Haoran Heaven, wasn't he brought to Osmanthus Island by Lu Chen back then?
"Viewing mountains from a tower, viewing snow from a mountain peak, viewing the moon in the snow, viewing a beauty under the moon—each is a different scene."
Lu Chen tapped the stone table with each of his five fingers in turn, muttering to himself, "The fifteenth moon is a marvel of the heavens, Liu Qi's poems are marvels of literature, and Osmanthus Island is a marvel of landscapes."
Madam Gui reminded him, "Instructor Lu, if you have something to say, say it. If not, I won't see you out."
Lu Chen laughed heartily. "If a poor Daoist isn't poor, who is? Madam Gui, please forgive me."
Jin Su was puzzled. Her master called this Daoist "Instructor"?
Among mountain immortal mansions, there was no such title as "Instructor." Even those who founded sects were at most called masters, mountain lords, or sect leaders, because establishing a religion and calling oneself an ancestor—who could do that, who would dare?
As for secular martial arts sects, they did have schools with "doctrine" suffixes, but they used "doctrine master," not "Instructor."
Unless it was the distant, unreachable three—now four—direct disciples of the Dao Ancestor at the Jade Capital who were qualified to be respectfully addressed as "Instructor of something."
Could this irresponsible young Daoist before her be... Lu Chen?
Impossible. She must be overthinking it. A Jade Capital Instructor, someone so lofty and high, how could he knock on a door, enter a courtyard, sit down peacefully without saying anything, and even shamelessly ask her master for wine?
For Jin Su, the only time in her life that barely involved Lu Chen was when Chen Ping'an, during the battle at Dragon Trench, had personally drawn a shocking talisman: "Do what must be done, Lu Chen's decree."
Lu Chen looked up at the sky and sighed inexplicably, "So divine, so imperial."
Literally, it described a woman's beauty and attire as godlike, a phrase that captured the ultimate beauty of a lady.
Madam Gui's expression turned serious.
Lu Chen stared blankly at Madam Gui, then suddenly smiled. "Just kidding. Don't take it seriously."
Madam Gui said calmly, "If it's not a serious joke, why say it?"
Lu Chen nodded eagerly like a chick pecking rice, admitting his mistake. After being scolded by Madam Gui, he turned to look at the doubtful Jin Su, clapped his hands in admiration, and said, "What a good name. When golden millet grows, granaries are full, and then the city walls are high and the country is strong. Old Dragon City has truly benefited from the Sun family."
Jin Su said cautiously, "Real Person Lu, my father's surname is Jin, so my master gave me this name. It's just another name for osmanthus, similar to mu xi and guang han xian."
Lu Chen wore an expression of eager thirst for knowledge and asked, "What does it mean?"
Jin Su smiled. "It's just because osmanthus flowers are yellow like gold and small like millet, hence this alternative name."
Lu Chen clapped his hands again in admiration. "Learned something, learned something. The world's knowledge is boundless. Truly, live and learn."
Madam Gui couldn't stand this Instructor Lu's nonsense anymore. She said directly to her disciple, "This Instructor Lu is Lu Chen of the Jade Capital in the Azure Underworld. How could he not know that 'golden millet' is another name for osmanthus?"
Jin Su was greatly shocked. She quickly stood up, bowed, and said with trembling voice, "Jin Su of Osmanthus Island pays respects to Instructor Lu."
Lu Chen rolled his eyes.
How boring.
Reading an unseen book is like meeting a good friend. Seeing a book already read is like meeting an old acquaintance.
Madam Gui's action ruined the mood. It was like helping Miss Jin Su, who had just started reading a scholar-beauty novel, skip directly to the last page and see the stereotypical happy ending of flowers blooming, the moon being full, and people living long.
Lu Chen raised one hand and gently shook it, grinning. "Miss Jin Su, you need to change this habit of judging people by appearances in the future. Otherwise, you'll let many opportunities that should be firmly grasped slip away. Of course, if a child is not taught, it's the father's fault. If the teaching is not strict, it's the teacher's laziness. Madam Gui, besides passing on techniques, you must also polish this disciple's Dao heart like carving jade."
"If the world is all like this, and I just go with the flow, is that necessarily right? Is that necessarily good? This poor Daoist thinks otherwise."
"But then again, who can truly judge the gains and losses here? Maybe Jin Su is right, and everyone else in the world is right, and only this poor Daoist is wrong?"
Lu Shen muttered on and on, stood up, and his figure flickered and vanished, leaving Osmanthus Island.
But on the table, he left behind a Daoist book made of gold and jade, exuding purple and azure Daoist energy.
With one step, contracting the earth and crossing the sea, Lu Chen suddenly stopped, stumbled forward, and almost fell flat on his face. He reached up to adjust his Daoist crown, stood on tiptoe, craned his neck, and glanced at the mountains and rivers below. "Almost went the wrong way."
It turned out that the Confucian Temple had only given Instructor Lu permission to land on two continents before they would ceremoniously escort the Jade Capital Third Instructor out of the territory.
But when Lu Chen next returned to Haoran Heaven, there would be no such restrictions, since he had sent out the Yaoguang Blessed Land and had real merits to his name.
Standing atop the clouds, with the border between sea and land below him, Lu Shen performed a set of street-performer boxing moves. His Daoist sleeves flapped noisily, barely passing for smooth and flowing. Suddenly, he struck a golden rooster stance, formed hand seals with two fingers, and spouted a bunch of nonsense spells and Daoist formulas. In an instant, he arrived above Old Dragon City in Bottle Gourd Continent. Unfortunately, the sea of clouds he had personally created back then was gone. He did a sideways somersault in the air, and when his feet landed, Lu Chen was already at the Cloud Mist Mountain territory. He curled his fingers and lightly tapped his Daoist crown, casting an illusion spell.
Lu Chen neither went to find the current female ancestor of Cloud Mist Mountain nor did he seek out Cai Jinjian at Green Cypress Peak. There was no hurry for the business.
He scanned the beautiful peaks of Cloud Mist Mountain and finally fixed his gaze on Cloud Plowing Peak. Amidst a vast sea of clouds, one mountain jutted out like an isolated island in the sea. A male Earth Immortal, wearing an old "Colorful Luan" Dharma robe, sat alone on a white jade railing, drinking. His gaze was fixed blankly on some point, unable to move for a long time. A bachelor drinking in sorrow, drinking and drinking, wasn't he just drinking in the woman's brows, eyes, and words?
Huang Zhonghou frowned. Another visitor who didn't follow the rules of entering the mountain gate properly?
Did they really think Cloud Mist Mountain was a place anyone could come and go as they pleased?
Last time, it was a green-robed guest who called himself Chen Ping'an of the Fallen Mountain. This time, it was a Daoist of unknown origins.
In Huang Zhonghou's view, a young Daoist of unidentified sect lineage was flying far away on the clouds, circling around Cloud Plowing Peak and then speeding off. It wasn't a straight line of wind riding but rather a big stride with sleeves flapping. At the same time, he didn't forget to look around left and right, which made him look sneaky and ill-intentioned.
Huang Zhonghou stood up, put away his wine flask, and cast a unique concealment technique of Cloud Plowing Peak. His form melted into the white sea of clouds like fog and quietly followed.
He heard the young-looking foreign Daoist muttering to himself, things like "Those who form the golden elixir are my kind," and "Countless misty clouds, one golden elixir, sky azure and moon white, mountains high and wind swift, infinite clouds and waters, a good life."
Then the Daoist arrived at a peak called Hairpin Holding Peak and began climbing the cliff face from halfway up. His body was light, and his movements were elegant, with a hint of ethereal Daoist aura, his posture agile like a mountain ape. Huang Zhonghou remained concealed, watching to see what shady business this suspicious fellow was up to.
The young Daoist seemed to be a natural chatterbox. Even in this uninhabited place, he liked to talk to himself. He grabbed a vine of fig ivy, leaned against the cliff, shook his Daoist sleeves, and shook out a large flatbread. He caught it, took a big bite, and chewed while speaking indistinctly. "Several peaks rise dimly among the clouds, green mountains piled deep like a heavenly maiden's hair bun, lush and verdant, what fine air. Good poem, good poem. Seized by poetic inspiration, talent gushing like a spring, unstoppable. Let's do another. I once spoke with an immortal lord, my mountain is an ancient spiritual soil, higher than Mount Sumeru, the cave dwelling hangs the sun and moon, ten thousand miles of clouds and water wash the eyes, climbing alone through danger without needing support. May I ask you esteemed guests, why is this so? Listen to my striking of the gavel: it turns out I wear the True Form Diagram of the Five Sacred Mountains."
Huang Zhonghou, hidden in the shadows, got a headache from listening.
Hairpin Holding Peak, which had never had a Cloud Mist Mountain cultivator residing there for cultivation, was a secret forbidden area. Even the direct disciples of the ancestral hall were not very clear about the historical origins of this peak. They only knew that this peak was never among the choices when Earth Immortals selected peaks as their Daoist sites.
The root of the current embarrassing situation at Cloud Mist Mountain happened to be this very peak.
It was rumored that the founding ancestor of Cloud Mist Mountain, before establishing the sect in Bottle Gourd Continent, had found an ancient flood control talisman and the recipe for immortality. Therefore, within the secret immortal mansion of Hairpin Holding Peak, there were silver houses and stone chambers, along with white mushrooms and purple springs, which were the source of Cloud Mist Mountain's spiritual qi.
Near the mountaintop, there was an ancient immortal mansion ruin, layered with mountain and river mirages. At the entrance, there were two round stones, naturally shaped like stone drums, which would ring when struck by cultivators. They were inscribed with the words "Divine Zheng" and "Cloud Root" in seal script.
Huang Zhonghou grew vigilant because, coincidentally, the Daoist had arrived right here.
Lu Chen looked at the stone drums at the entrance and sighed. The inscriptions were still fresh, but the old matters of the gods and the immortal traces had all passed like smoke and clouds.
Down the mountain, bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new was the year's end. Up the mountain, bidding farewell to the old and welcoming the new was the heart's barrier.
He wondered which great talent had said that.
Probably poor Daoist himself.
Lu Chen turned his head and smiled. "Fellow Daoist of Cloud Plowing Peak, you've been skulking around following poor Daoist all the way. In this place where heaven won't answer and earth won't respond, are you planning to rob me?"
Huang Zhonghou revealed himself and said, "Fellow Daoist, how about coming with me to the Cloud Mist Ancestral Mountain to see my master?"
Wei Li, the Law Guardian of Cloud Mist Mountain, was Huang Zhonghou's Dao transmissor.
Lu Chen waved his hand. "Forget it, forget it. Your Cloud Mist Old Ancestor isn't on the mountain anymore, so I have no old friends to chat with."
Huang Zhonghou was momentarily speechless.
The Cloud Mist Old Immortal, the founding ancestor of Cloud Mist Mountain, had naturally long since dissolved his physical form and passed away. His several direct disciples, through their own branching out, had created the current favorable situation of Cloud Mist Sixteen Peaks in Bottle Gourd Continent.
And the reason Cloud Mist Mountain's immortal methods were close to Buddhist teachings involved an ancient insider story. It was said that the Cloud Mist Old Ancestor actually hailed from the Central Continent's Profound Void Temple, but he wasn't a monk; he was some kind of divine being.
Lu Chen made a gesture as if holding a staff and gently tapped the ground, smiling. "Wooden Seat, right?"
Huang Zhonghou didn't understand whether this Daoist was being mysterious or if this was actually true.
Lu Chen clicked his tongue. "Looking at your bewildered expression like a confused monk, it doesn't seem fake. It seems my old friend Cloud Mist was too embarrassed back then to reveal his true Daoist origins to his few direct disciples. Actually, there was nothing so hard to say about it. He should have written it in bold in the preface to your Cloud Mist Mountain ancestral hall registry."
Before the Cloud Mist Old Ancestor left Profound Void Temple, Lu Chen had not yet sailed the seas. He had once met the monk Liaoran. They talked about Daoist teachings and Buddhist teachings, each speaking their own mind. But in Lu Chen's words, "Daoist true men don't disparage Buddhism, and Buddhist dragons and elephants also understand Dao." One discourse, two cups of clear tea, and they talked happily.
And the true form of the Cloud Mist Old Ancestor, in his early years, was precisely the walking staff of the abbot of Profound Void Temple.
The monk Liaoran, holding the "Wooden Seat," had once lightly tapped Lu Chen on the shoulder.
Lu Chen didn't dodge or avoid, effectively giving that "Wooden Seat" a fate-opening Daoist opportunity.
This led to the later Buddhist public case in Haoran Heaven: "One tap drove Lu Chen out the door."
Lu Chen raised a hand, making a gesture of tilting his head back to drink.
Huang Zhonghou hesitated for a moment, then tossed over a flask of Cloud Mist Mountain's secret-brewed Spring Drowsiness wine.
Lu Chen removed the clay seal, sniffed it, wore an intoxicated expression, squinted, and smiled. "Truly fine wine."
Huang Zhonghou said, "Having drunk the wine, you still need to trouble yourself, Real Person, to come to the ancestral hall."
Last time, that foreigner who trespassed the mountain gate had actually gone to find Cai Jinjian at Green Cypress Peak, so Huang Zhonghou hadn't pressed the matter.
Lu Chen nodded. "Perfect. I do have some serious business to discuss with your mountain lord senior uncle. Having someone to show the way saves me from stumbling around like a headless fly."
Huang Zhonghou said, "I hope the Real Person keeps his word, so as not to harm our cordial relations."
Lu Chen dismissed it with a smile, pointed at the mansion gate, and asked, "Isn't it a pity to keep this propitious site, so suitable for a Daoist site, always closed?"
Huang Zhonghou explained, "The second-generation mountain lord ancestor personally closed it. Before his death, he left a Dharma decree: if no Cloud Mist Mountain cultivator ever reaches the upper fifth realm, this gate shall not be opened, and no one may enter the secret mansion to cultivate."
This wasn't a major sect secret. Cultivators across the continent knew about it. Many mountain forces that didn't get along with Cloud Mist Mountain liked to use this to mock them, sarcastically saying that inside the mansion was some immortal artifact-level treasure that would make them invincible once opened, or else insinuating that their founding ancestor had long been a Flying Ascension cultivator of their own continent, deliberately staying in seclusion. If the old ancestor were willing to come out, beating the Shengao Sect would be no problem.
Upon hearing this, Lu Chen was immediately choked by the wine. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and laughed. "What a fellow who harms both his master and his disciples. His intentions were good, truly heartfelt. He just hoped that you younger cultivators would keep striving, cultivate well, and at least achieve Jade Purity. Then when you open the door and occupy this mansion for dedicated cultivation, perhaps you can smoothly produce another Immortal."
Huang Zhonghou remained silent.
Lu Chen pondered for a moment, holding the flask in one hand and forming hand seals with the other. "Since the bell needs the one who tied it to untie it, then the door needs the one who closed it to open it."
Huang Zhonghou shook his head. "After that ancestor ancestor dissolved his physical form and passed away, he did find a reincarnated person outside the mountain. But unfortunately, that reincarnated one never awakened, and his cultivation stopped at the Dragon Gate realm. He dissolved again, and since then, there has been no news."
Lu Chen nodded. He stopped deducing that second-generation ancestor's "origin and destination" and shook his hand. "Two mud cows sinking into the sea. How can you still find them?"
Cultivation fears most having no way out. Being human is best when there's a clear origin.
Some old sayings passed down by word of mouth, older than the elders, certainly have their reasons. For example, accumulating virtue in one's ancestors can bless one's descendants.
By now, Huang Zhonghou was beginning to believe that this "young" Daoist was likely a transcendent expert with profound Daoist teachings and deep ties to Cloud Mist Mountain.
Lu Chen turned and looked at the surging sea of clouds at Cloud Plowing Peak, silently drinking. His belly was full of poetry and songs, too much to choose from. He didn't know which poems or lines to pull out to show this fellow Daoist and broaden his horizons.
But Huang Zhonghou mistakenly thought that this foreign Daoist, who had preserved his youth and returned to simplicity, was saddened that his old friends were gone when revisiting old places.
Lu Chen casually tossed the empty flask off the cliff. Then he raised his hand again. Huang Zhonghou, also gazing at the magnificent sea of clouds covering the ridges of his own Cloud Plowing Peak, heard the Daoist cough a few times and realized he was keeping his hand raised. Huang Zhonghou had no choice but to toss another flask of Spring Drowsiness wine. Was he really just dealing with a wine-scrounging fraud?
Lu Chen said, "Many people don't drink because they don't like drinking. Many people don't drink because they can no longer afford to drink."
Huang Zhonghou nodded in deep agreement.
The fierce battle that had sunk half the continent into the ground had made many who didn't drink start drinking, and also made many who loved drinking stop drinking.
Lu Chen nodded in agreement as well, shaking his wine flask. Truly a good drinking companion.
The Hidden Officer's choice of people had always been good.
It wasn't in vain that this poor Daoist had gone through all the hardships to visit Cloud Mist Mountain.
Huang Zhonghou carefully chose his words and asked, "Real Person, have you come to solve the troubles of our Cloud Mist Mountain?"
Lu Chen nodded. "Of course. First, I have old ties with your Cloud Mist Mountain. I'm famously nostalgic on the mountain. Second, someone asked me to come out and help your Cloud Mist Mountain get through this difficulty. Add the two together, and I had to come."
Huang Zhonghou tentatively asked, "In that case, why doesn't the Real Person go directly to our mountain lord?"
Lu Chen snorted with laughter. "A transcendent expert like me, with a realm towering into the clouds and a nature as pure as the azure sky and white moon—how can my actions be judged by common sense?"
Just as he had started to regard the man as a carefree terrestrial immortal, his own words made Huang Zhonghou uncertain again.
Lu Chen felt the time was right, so he raised the flask, pointed casually at the gate behind him, and revealed some heavenly secrets to Huang Zhonghou. "This mansion, for your Cloud Mist Mountain, is actually a 'warden-turned-thief' formation. Once you open the door, your Cloud Mist Mountain will both resolve its worries and receive a rich legacy. The accumulation of qi fortune over the years—imagine, Huang Zhonghou, how great a mountain and river qi fortune it will be when opened? The only thing Cloud Mist Mountain needs to do next is set up a great formation to properly contain this surging spiritual qi like a flood bursting a dam. Otherwise, if the tidal wave of qi knocks out the cultivators of more than a dozen peaks, that would be a huge joke."
Huang Zhonghou looked incredulous, unable to believe it was so... simple?!
According to the previous deductions of the ancestral hall, resolving this huge predicament required three approaches, with at least two needed simultaneously.
First, a fifth-realm cultivator was needed, which was why the mountain lord had been in seclusion these past years, seeking a breakthrough.
Second, if Cloud Mist Mountain could leap to become a sect and receive "canonization" from the Confucian Temple, it would gain an extra share of qi fortune. Though still treating symptoms, it could slow the deterioration.
Finally, a valuable treasure of at least semi-immortal artifact rank was needed to gather and stabilize the heavenly and earthly qi.
Having the right people, the right timing, and the right place—if all three could be obtained, that would be best. But as things stood, Cloud Mist Mountain was doomed to fail in the short term.
After the great battle, semi-immortal artifacts were almost selling at the former prices of full immortal artifacts, especially "mountain-suppressing" treasures not used for attack, which were previously relatively undervalued but now even rarer and more precious in Haoran Heaven.
Cloud Mist Mountain had gone through all its connections, asking about this in other continents, but hit dead ends everywhere. Almost all replies were the same: even if we had one, we wouldn't sell!
This was also why Cloud Mist Mountain had never made a move. Otherwise, by scraping together and borrowing money, they could afford a semi-immortal artifact.
Lu Chen smiled. "Someone actually already hinted at the solution to your Cloud Mist Mountain's problem through Cai Jinjian. But Cai Jinjian herself was kept in the dark. She probably heard some hints, but never understood them. You spectators were also in the dark, not knowing the method, so you couldn't enter the door. You ended up sitting on a mountain of gold and silver but nearly starving to death. It's not that person deliberately watched you make a fool of yourselves, but your Cloud Mist Mountain's fundamental Daoist methods are close to Zen principles. He certainly couldn't do anything superfluous; otherwise, it would be like adding legs to a snake, undoing a knot only to tie another, dragging things out, repaying debts and incurring debts, which wouldn't be beautiful."
Huang Zhonghou bowed. "I earnestly beg the Real Person to speak clearly!"
He still didn't believe that opening this door at Hairpin Holding Peak could eliminate all worries for the entire Cloud Mist Mountain.
Moreover, violating the ancestral teachings was no small matter on the mountain.
Lu Chen sighed. This Fellow Daoist Huang was frank and forthright. When asked for wine, he gave wine, and gave two flasks at that. But his brain was a bit... muddled by drinking.
Lu Chen had to patiently explain. "Didn't Cai Jinjian early on have deep fortune and receive a prophecy from a lofty person: 'After breaking, there will be establishment, with divine assistance'? Break what? Who is the god? Simply put, it means breaking through a door. As for being 'like divine assistance,' that person is none other than Mr. Qi, the Confucian sage of the Lizhu Cave Heaven. Who spoke this prophecy early on? If not Zou Zi, who else? The riddle and the answer were given together. You still expect Zou Zi to hold your heads and shout in your ears?"
While listening to the Daoist's words, Huang Zhonghou remained bowed, not rising.
When the Daoist stopped speaking, Huang Zhonghou finally straightened up, took a deep breath, and made up his mind. He would go back and tell the mountain lord about this. If the mountain lord didn't dare open the door, he would do it himself!
Mysteriously, Huang Zhonghou believed that this Daoist's words were not a joke, nor were they any malicious act to harm Cloud Mist Mountain.
Even if the mountain lord and his master opposed it, Huang Zhonghou would find an auspicious day, bathe and change clothes, go to the ancestral hall to burn incense, make a vow from his Dao heart, and confess everything to the ancestors. If it was wrong, he would bear any consequences alone.
Lu Chen nodded and began to boast again. "A good drunkard. No wonder my unregistered half-student wants to drink with you again."
Huang Zhonghou smiled. "Though that's the case, I'm extremely grateful to the Real Person. But rules are rules. I still need to ask the Real Person to come with me to the ancestral hall."
Lu Chen clicked his tongue. "Good lad, as sharp as a monkey. You're bound for a great Dao path. I'll say this here today: every word is a nail!"
Huang Zhonghou felt a bit guilty. This Real Person was so sincere, but he was being petty and suspicious, wanting the mountain lord to personally verify the Real Person's identity to be absolutely certain.
Lu Chen wanted to stroke his beard and laugh, but then remembered he was young and had no beard, not like Sun Changshou of the Great Profound Capital Temple, who was so decrepit. He rubbed his chin instead. "I am an upright Real Person. The Real Person is careful; the gentleman is magnanimous."
Huang Zhonghou was speechless.
Lu Chen stomped his foot lightly and chuckled. "Don't think setting up a grand protective formation to block the surging spiritual qi is any easy task. Once the gate at Hairpin Holding Peak opens, the commotion will be enormous, like a great sword immortal's chaotic sword challenge to Cloud Mist Mountain. One wrong move, and the entire Hairpin Holding Peak will shatter on the spot. That would be a second sword challenge. Broken stones flying everywhere, flying swords like rain. As for the remaining fifteen peaks of Cloud Mist Mountain, how many suitable for cultivation would be left? Let me do a quick calculation. Hmm, not bad. More than half could remain. But the qi accumulated in this cave over the years, seventy to eighty percent, will end up as a wedding gown for others. Within a few years, within ten thousand miles around Cloud Mist Mountain, the neighboring immortal mountains big and small, and the adjacent Yellow Millet Kingdom of a dream, will all sincerely send you plaques with words like 'selfless' to express their thanks."
Hearing this, Huang Zhonghou instead breathed a sigh of relief. Otherwise, it would have been like a golden millet dream, hard to believe it was real.
"So the question is, how to solve this?"
Lu Chen asked and answered himself, tossing the empty flask in his hand and stomping heavily. "It lies in your two flasks of wine, Huang Zhonghou."
If Huang Zhonghou had only given one flask, Cloud Mist Mountain wouldn't have had this treatment.
The flask thrown into the air and the flask that had already fallen to the ground—one suspended in the sky, one on the earth. As Lu Chen stomped his foot, in an instant, within Cloud Mist Mountain's territory, the wind swirled and clouds surged. The two flasks suddenly became as large as mountains, as if they held the universe inside. Each produced a surge of Daoist aura that rose and fell, eventually coalescing into a yin-yang fish pattern that slowly spiraled, covering the entire Cloud Mist Mountain. The formation diagram then descended, like a long scroll of ink painting spreading over the earth, then vanished without a trace.
This heaven-and-earth phenomenon, swallowing mountains and rivers, was fleeting.
Throughout Cloud Mist Mountain, besides Huang Zhonghou, who personally witnessed this magnificent scene, only two others could detect the abnormality: Cai Jinjian at Green Cypress Peak and a young child staring blankly at the sky. And these two didn't rely on cultivation realm but on fate.
Lu Chen pointed to a place and said to Huang Zhonghou with a smile, "That child has good aptitude. Even if you have to snatch him, get him to Cloud Plowing Peak. He'll be of great use in the future. You've got the next-next mountain lord for Cloud Mist Mountain."
As for the next mountain lord, it was naturally the Golden Core cultivator of Cloud Plowing Peak before him.
Lu Chen took a few steps, patted Huang Zhonghou on the shoulder, and smiled. "There aren't many people who can ignore someone's urging to drink and threaten to make them drink two out of one. In no more than a hundred years, you can brag about this everywhere."
Before Huang Zhonghou could react, the Daoist had already disappeared.
Huang Zhonghou felt a sense of loss. He still didn't know this Real Person's name or Dao title.
In his heart, the Real Person's voice sounded. "This poor Daoist's Dao title is 'Anonymous.'"
Huang Zhonghou felt helpless. How was he supposed to explain this to the ancestral hall afterward? That the benefactor who helped Cloud Mist Mountain through this tribulation was a foreign Daoist named "Anonymous"?
In the territory of the Shengao Sect, Daoist temples stood like a forest. In the grand Daoist temple that served as the mountain's ancestral court, a once-in-a-decade ordination ceremony was being held. But compared to previous Daoist rituals, now there were two additional "outsiders": an official from the Dali auxiliary capital's Ministry of Rites, who had come specifically to the Shengao Sect, and a Daoist registrar under the Capital's Chongxu Office, responsible for recording all the ordained Daoists who had received their certificates.
Lu Chen had no objection to this. Broadly speaking, it was just that the law was clear in the secular world and the Daoist law was clear in the hidden world. Daoist law governed oneself, while secular law governed people.
On a higher and deeper level, secular law punishes people after they violate prohibitions, while Daoist law restrains people's thoughts from the moment evil thoughts first arise.
On a small hill far from the Shengao Sect's ancestral hall, in an inconspicuous little Daoist temple hanging a plaque reading "Autumn Hair Temple," an old Daoist was leading a group of little acolytes in evening Daoist lessons. They were reciting a Daoist classic by rote—the older ones memorized, the younger ones struggled. It was a sight that made Lu Chen, peeking from the doorway, sigh in dismay. He left, distressed by the sound. Walking with his hands behind his back, shaking his head inside the temple, he saw a little acolyte sweeping the ground while reciting. He stumbled, always making mistakes, like turning pages in a book. If he made a mistake, he had to start the whole page over. Lu Chen didn't disturb the acolyte's "unique solitary cultivation." Instead, he went to a tree and gently shook it.
The little acolyte had just finished sweeping up all the fallen leaves. Being a Daoist on an immortal mountain wasn't easy. Many trees were evergreen, shedding leaves intermittently, never stopping. It wasn't as straightforward as the temples down the mountain, where sweeping was only tiring in autumn, and one could slack off in winter. When the acolyte turned back to look, there it was—a troublemaker who, bored, had shaken down a whole pile of leaves. Furious, the acolyte picked up his broom and charged over. But when the young Daoist turned around, the acolyte sized him up and decided he couldn't win a fight, so he let the broom fall to the ground and pretended to sweep.
Lu Chen smiled and asked, "Little one, have you been ordained? Are you a recorded disciple? How many additions?"
The little acolyte snorted. It wasn't like those hereditary or private ordinations that could be bought with money. Besides, he had no money.
If he had money, would he be sweeping here? Those few fellow disciples of the same age in the temple—their families were well-off, so they received extra care from the master and had never cleaned the latrines or toilets. Not him. Now, carrying manure to the vegetable garden—practice makes perfect—he was quite good at it.
Lu Chen sat on a railing. Behind him was a small pond with some carp. He crossed his arms and said, "The Dao is in filth and urine. That's fine."
The little acolyte, stung by the remark, looked up and glared. Seeing that the stinking Daoist from who knows where was raising his arm and flexing it repeatedly, the acolyte immediately understood the "reminder." He had no choice but to lower his head and sweep gloomily. Sure enough, the Daoist said to himself, "This body of mine, all sinewy muscle, is the result of years of planting trees, cutting them down, and planting again. Naturally, I'm quite skilled. A few ordinary strong men can't even get close to me."
The little acolyte muttered under his breath, "Only if the ancestor said it, it would be right. You saying it is just a fart."
Lu Chen smiled and asked, "Why is that? Isn't it the same sentence and the same principle?"
The little acolyte swept harder, sending leaves flying everywhere. "How could it be the same? Of course, it's different. Anyway, I understand the principle, I just can't say it."
Lu Chen asked, "Is it like the saying, 'If the world imitates me, it's like entering a demonic path'?"
The little acolyte looked up. "What's that? Which high truth said that in which classic?"
Lu Chen smiled. "A Buddhist master said it."
In fact, Lu Chen already knew the acolyte's "random thoughts." The answer in his heart was quite interesting, precisely because the acolyte couldn't articulate it.
The little acolyte said, "Oh. You know quite a bit."
He lowered his head to look at the fallen leaves, while inwardly muttering to himself, "But you're not much of a person."
Lu Chen asked, "What's your name?"
The little acolyte, listless, lowered his head and swept the leaves into the dustpan. In a small voice, he said, "You can call me Ayou. The you of the hour of you."
But the acolyte didn't say that the master had given him that name. No need to tell an outsider.
Lu Chen smiled. "After you're ordained, is there anything you want to do?"
The little acolyte lifted the broom in his hand and pointed toward the ancestral hall, but quickly put it down in frustration. It would be a great disrespect. If the master saw him, he'd be in big trouble—punished by copying scriptures until late at night. He stomped on the leaves in the dustpan to pack them down a bit, then continued sweeping. He said casually, "Our temple is poor. When I have money someday, I'll help gild the statue of the ancestor in the ancestral hall. At least give it a new set of clothes, just a layer of gold powder. That'll be good enough."
Lu Chen exclaimed, "Ayou, with such sincerity, your ancestor must manifest divine power right away to be worthy of your pure heart! If I were your ancestor, I'd definitely show up and have a good chat with you."
The little acolyte was extremely annoyed. He lifted his broom and pointed it at the strange Daoist with no manners, fuming, "I've been putting up with you for a long time! That's enough! Otherwise, I'll call my senior brothers to beat you up!"
He quickly added, "Senior brothers!"
Lu Chen was thoroughly amused. He propped his hands on the railing, swung his legs, and lightly tapped the railing with his heels, looking curious. "How strange. With such a large mountain and so many temples in the Shengao Sect, why are the temples like yours, with that wooden dummy in the ancestral hall, the poorest?"
The little acolyte retorted angrily, "None of your business."
Actually, this question was one that even his fellow disciples, uncles, and masters were curious about. He had only heard the master say that the sect's Daoists were divided into two lines, wearing different headdresses, which was uncommon throughout Haoran Heaven.
For example, if Ayou later became an ordained disciple, he would wear a lotus crown on his head. It would be different from the crown of the Shengao Sect's Heavenly Lord Sect Master.
Lu Chen smiled. "I do know the reason. It's because Heavenly Lord Qi received the grace of your ancestor's Dao transmission. When he became sect master, he initially thought to treat both lines equally. Later, he found that wouldn't work—too many hidden problems—and it caused your line of mountain temples to dwindle. Later, Heavenly Lord Qi had to change his approach slightly and could only secretly help your line's incense fires. But he still found it didn't work, and the entire Bottle Gourd Continent didn't turn out as he wished. At least there should have been a lotus-crowned Daoist who established a sect outside the mountain. Much later, he barely understood a principle: what is 'the Dao follows nature'? Turns out he meant well but did wrong. That finally gave birth to the Cool Clarity Sect in Northern Juque Continent."
Lu Chen pointed at the big tree. "Ten thousand things are like plants and trees: they flourish, wither, live, and die. Heaven and earth can endure long and last because they do not live for themselves, so they can live long."
The little acolyte was confused and didn't respond, lest he appear foolish.
He suddenly asked, "Since you're a Daoist, why don't you call yourself 'poor Daoist'?"
Lu Chen smiled. "Poor Daoist isn't poor. I'm very rich."
The little acolyte felt a bit envious. Without some traveling money, one couldn't journey far.
Lu Chen waved his hand. "You're mistaken. I'm saying that as a cultivator of the Dao, it happens that all things are straw dogs, and the Dao is in the world."
Lu Chen raised his hand and slowly lowered it, repeating the last four words with a subtle pause. "The Dao is in the world. The world below."
The little acolyte said, "Oh. You say your thing, I'll sweep mine."
Lu Chen asked, "Earlier, I said plants and trees have life and death. The big tree beside you is still alive—everyone knows that. So, Ayou, I ask you: what about the fallen leaves in your dustpan? Think about it. Are they alive or dead?"
The little acolyte shook his head.
Lu Chen raised both hands and clasped them behind his head. "Ayou, I'm not bragging. The most dangerous time in my life, debating the Dao with someone—tsk tsk, truly dangerous. I almost ended up not being a Daoist anymore."
The little acolyte looked up and grinned.
He got beaten up.
Lu Chen said seriously, "Ayou, you're mistaken again. I debated the Dao with a very old, very highly ranked 'Daoist.' Guess what happened?"
In fact, the earliest "Daoist" in the human world referred to monks.
The little acolyte hugged his broom and blinked.
Lu Chen showed a dazed expression, tilted his head back three times, and said softly, "Let's not talk about this fish pond. He observed one bowl of water, eighty-eight thousand insects. I traveled with that Daoist in the human world for several years, seeing all sizes, multitudes, lengths, and life and death. But I still wasn't convinced. So he took me to a strange world. The world was so vast and profound, without boundaries, containing countless small thousand worlds. The number of living beings was truly like the sands of the Ganges. And I was one of them. After countless hardships and immeasurable time, I succeeded in cultivation. If I were here, in that world, with just a single sigh, I could turn millions of stars to dust. With a wave of my hand, I could cause hundreds or thousands of... Flying Ascension cultivators to die and disappear. Eventually, I began to travel far, visiting so-called small thousand worlds, seeing countless strange beings. After who knows how many thousands of years, I began to choose to sleep. After who knows how many millions of years, when I woke up, the seemingly eternal stars had disappeared. Finally, one day, a crack opened in the sky. I followed that path, as if carrying half the world's infinite Dao energy, techniques, and divine powers, and crashed through, finally leaving that place. The result..."
The little acolyte was listening as if to a storyteller and quickly pressed, "What was the result?"
Lu Chen grinned. "To know the sequel, listen to the next chapter."
The little acolyte sighed. He understood. "I'll owe you three coppers, okay?"
Lu Chen then raised his arm and asked with a smile, "Ayou, if we get bitten by a mosquito and raise a bump, do you like to scratch it with your fingernail like this?"
The little acolyte raised a finger, making an X, and laughed. "I like to cross it with two strokes."
Lu Chen smiled and nodded, pointing at himself. "That me was like a red, swollen mosquito bite on an arm, casually killed by someone with a flick of a finger."
The little acolyte opened his mouth wide and finally couldn't help sticking out his thumb. "Good story!"
Definitely worth those three coppers!
Lu Chen smiled faintly. "That's why I could never break through to the next realm. My master was the laziest and wouldn't explain things to me. As his disciple, what else could I do? I had to find the answer myself."
The little acolyte hugged his broom and was silent for a long time. He felt the Daoist's story wasn't that exciting—no scholar and fox spirit, no real person performing rituals to exorcise evil spirits—just a bit strange. It was pretty good to listen to, but he didn't want to share it with his fellow disciples, since it had cost him three coppers. Finally, he couldn't help but ask, "Daoist, where are you from?"
Lu Chen smiled and beckoned. "To be honest, I'm excellent at reading palms. Ayou, come, show me your hand. I'll read your fortune."
The little acolyte immediately became wary. This was playing a long game to catch a big fish. In the end, he was still going to scam me out of money!
Lu Chen complained, "No charge!"
The little acolyte asked, "If you see a bad palm line, will you charge extra to ward off the disaster?"
Lu Chen gasped. His own sect had produced such a genius. He was good material for setting up a fortune-telling stall with him later.
The little acolyte hesitated for a moment, then finally looked dejected. He pursed his lips, put down his broom, took his leave of the Daoist with a Daoist bow, then bent down and carried the dustpan to dump the leaves far away.
Lu Chen sighed.
The child had originally wanted to ask his surname, but when the words reached his lips, he felt it wasn't necessary.
When the child returned after dumping the dustpan of leaves, the young Daoist sitting on the railing was gone.
Lu Chen had already sneakily arrived at the threshold of the main hall of that Daoist temple. He waved his hand and waved again at the old temple master, who was leading the recitation in his shabby Daoist robe. The old Daoist noticed him the first time, smiled, and shook his head, continuing the recitation. The second time, seeing the unfamiliar young Daoist still eagerly waving from the threshold, the old Daoist frowned slightly and signaled with his eyes that he was busy. The third time, as the temple master, the old Daoist got angry, stood up, and strode toward the door, ready to scold him. But unexpectedly, the other man reached into his sleeve, grabbed his hand, and gently patted it.
The old temple master didn't need to look down. He felt it. Sigh, worldly gold and silver. Oh well, but it was a bit light.
The young Daoist pulled out another handful of "copper coins" and continued patting them into the old Daoist's hand. The latter lowered his head slightly, glanced down, and his eyes lit up. Hmm?
Three snowflake coins from the mountain?!
The old temple master waited for a moment. Seeing that the other man wasn't reaching into his sleeve again, he gently closed his fist, twisted his wrist, and tucked it into his sleeve. Without a word, he pulled the other man away to a distance and directly asked, "Fellow Daoist, how did you know that my 'Autumn Hair Temple' has a private ordination slot? Do you understand the rules here?"
The implication was that this private temple ordination, after all, wasn't the same as the sect's official ordination. Now that the Dali court was strict, getting a private ordination was only good for setting up a roadside stall—hardly respectable. In short, swindling emperors, kings, and high officials out of their silver would be difficult.
The young Daoist smiled knowingly. "If I didn't understand, would I be here? I'm just going to show it off to some clueless people."
The old temple master sighed. He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together gently. "Fellow Daoist understands the rules but not the market. You need to pay more."
He lowered his voice. "But I'm telling you, no refunds!"
Lu Chen smiled. "Adding more money is out of the question. I'm just here to pave the way for that Ayou."
The old Daoist was stunned. "Are you Ayou's long-lost father?"
Lu Chen grinned. "You guess, Temple Master."
The old Daoist didn't want to let go of this easy mark and continued persuading, "Fellow Daoist, you understand. My temple is small, but we never miss our quota of one ordained disciple every ten years. That's a rule established by Heavenly Lord Qi himself. Ayou is still young. There's a whole bunch of uncles and senior brothers in the temple. When will it be his turn? The sect's ancestral hall has strict assessments. Not everyone who gets recommended can pass ordination. If someone fails, we lose the slot for the next decade. But in this Autumn Hair Temple, we're all family. For cultivators of the Dao, what matters if not the quality of the mind? The ancestors set a rule: 'If someone's merits are outstanding and their conduct surpasses others, they can be promoted to a rank beyond the norm.' Honestly, our Autumn Hair Temple can conduct its own ordination. It may not be as precious as the sect's ancestral hall, but the ordained status is real. When they wear the lotus crown, aren't they true Daoists? This isn't something I'm making up. What do you say, Fellow Daoist?"
The old temple master saw the young Daoist nodding and saying "Mm, mm, mm," but not taking out any money. He was anxious.
Lu Chen looked at the old temple master, whose robe was washed white, and at his whole-hearted desire to gild the ancestor's statue, to completely renovate the ancestral hall, to make it as splendid as possible, so he could show off to the neighboring temples and stand a bit taller when burning incense to the ancestor... A string of thoughts. Lu Chen was somewhat amused. Regardless, the temple might be poor, but the spirit was good.
Lu Chen patted the old Daoist on the shoulder and smiled. "Enough, enough. Don't cry poverty to me. You'll make me, as the ancestor, want to cry too. When Qi Zhen returns from the Barren Wasteland, tell him that Ayou is now my direct disciple. He'll know what to do."
The old temple master nodded vigorously. Then, in a blur, the ancestor was gone.
Lu Chen traveled across continents. Passing over the sea between two continents, he looked down.
Fish correspond to water; humans correspond to the Dao.
He recalled that long ago, he seemed to have personally heard a question and answer.
The master said, "If the Dao does not prevail, I will take a raft and drift on the sea."
The student replied, "Why must one read books to become learned?"
Lu Chen looked up at the sky. Suddenly, he accelerated his wind-riding figure, stopped, and then plunged downward, looking straight down at the mountains and rivers.
He arrived outside the ancestral hall of the Hemp Garment Sect's Wooden Clothes Mountain. Lu Chen slightly changed his appearance.
Soon, several ancestors hurried to the scene. Wei Yusong was greatly surprised and asked softly, "May I ask what brings the Real Person here..."
Lu Chen coughed and got straight to the point. "That congratulatory magic treasure I gave back then?"
The several ancestors looked at each other in confusion. Wei Yusong was the first to detect something wrong. He roared, "Cut him down!"
Damn it! How dare someone pretend to be Fiery Dragon Real Person and come to Wooden Clothes Mountain to act like a ghost?!
That magic treasure—right after the sect ceremony, the previous sect master had privately returned it to Fiery Dragon Real Person. Moreover, from what Zhu Quan had told him about the process, her father, the previous sect master, and the old real person had gone back and forth politely. One insisted on giving it back, the other absolutely refused to accept. One was determined, the other said it was improper. It was probably a scene of a benevolent elder and a well-mannered junior. Finally, the old real person, unable to decline, patted the sect master on the shoulder with a gratified look. It was roughly a seventy-thirty split with the congratulatory sect. The old real person said something that could be taken seriously or as a formality: roughly, he guaranteed that for the next few hundred years, for those ten-some days each year, he wouldn't care about other places, but no swordsman in the continent would dare come to challenge here.
Simply put, it was something like: "I know the way; your Wooden Clothes Mountain ancestral hall, I've got it covered."
Lu Chen made his getaway. As expected of Fiery Dragon Real Person.
With one step contracting the earth, he directly arrived at Cool Clarity Sect, his own Dao lineage.
Unfortunately, that direct disciple wasn't on the mountain at the moment.
There was a pavilion: white walls, glazed tiles, bells hanging at each of the four corners of the eaves.
Elsewhere on the mountain, there were just thatched huts—considered cultivator residences.
For a sect-level immortal family, whether in terms of territory size or elegance of residences, it was indeed a bit too shabby.
Fortunately, He Xiaoliang still had a small cave heaven.
Otherwise, as her master and ancestor, he would have to shed bitter tears.
Actually, the fly whisk Chen Ping'an had obtained at the Immortal Hairpin City was most suitable for his female disciple.
A graceful lady, living in seclusion on the mountain, holding a fly whisk—they complemented each other perfectly.
But Lu Chen dared not ask for it. Even if he succeeded in getting it, he wouldn't dare actually give it to her. He would definitely be chased by Chen Ping'an with a sword, with no room for negotiation.
A sword light flashed before his eyes. Its intent was not to harm but to warn.
Lu Chen stumbled and cursed, "Good grand-disciple! How dare you commit such high treason against your master!"
The female cultivator hurriedly withdrew her flying sword. The man shook, nearly crashing headfirst into her sword. If she hadn't withdrawn it quickly, he would have turned her from a scare into a killer.
The woman said in a deep voice, "Fellow Daoist, do you know the consequences of trespassing into Cool Clarity Sect?"
The young Daoist slapped his head, and a common lotus crown appeared on it. He said hastily, "I'm one of you! One of you!"
The woman was stunned. "Fellow Daoist, who are you?"
But Lu Chen answered not the question. Smiling, he said, "It seems our Sect Leader He cares for you the most and cherishes you the most."
This young female Daoist, whose Dao title was Ganji, was exactly half of "ganju" (orange). Was that it?
She rolled her eyes.
Talking in opposites, were you? Enjoying hitting the sore spot, were you?
Master was so biased. She was the least favored.
When her two senior sisters had first become disciples of the master, their meeting gifts were a seven-colored elk and a distance-where object, respectively. When it came to her, it was just a few tangerines—the most common kind you'd find in the market...
At first, she thought the master might have some deeper meaning, that they were some kind of miraculous elixir. She savored them slowly and finished them, but there was truly no hidden mystery. The only unusual treatment was that every time the master went down the mountain to travel, he would bring her a few tangerines when he returned.
Lu Chen turned to look at a certain spot and smiled. "Great fortune. Even I, as his junior brother, am envious."
Her master wasn't on the mountain now; he had gone to travel to Liuxia Continent. So she first used her mind to notify her fellow disciples to rush over quickly. Then, following the young Daoist's gaze, Ganji saw the fence in the distance. There had once been a certain Mr. Li, personally invited by the master to the mountain to teach them and resolve their doubts. And before Mr. Li went down the mountain, he had planted some flowers and plants: some ivy, some morning glories, and a bowl of lotus in a small water tank. Strangely, although they were ordinary bowl lotuses, not immortal flowers, every time the flowers bloomed, within that small tank, green water and spring ripples, leaves rising from the water would produce three hundred layers of beauty.
Lu Chen sat down on the corridor, stretched out his finger, and gently shook it, causing the bells to ring softly, crisp and pleasant.
For fish, there are different kinds of love: some like to catch and eat them, others only like to raise and feed them.
Besides the female Daoist Ganji, all the direct disciples of the sect leader who remained on the mountain had arrived.
Lu Chen propped his chin on his hand, lost in thought. Suddenly, he remembered something and asked, "I heard that the great sword immortal Bai Chang to the north once said to He Xiaoliang something like a bold declaration?"
It was something like He Xiaoliang shouldn't dream of ever reaching Flying Ascension in Northern Juque Continent.
Lu Chen was about to stand up, but at that moment, he vaguely saw that by the fence, years ago, his senior brother seemed to be standing there, smiling and shaking his head at him, and clearly saying: "When you return to the Jade Capital, beware of a future sword challenge. You must protect your senior brother Yu Dou and the entire Jade Capital."