In the ancestral hall of Longhu Mountain, portraits of past patriarchs hung on the main wall. The portrait of the first patriarch suddenly dropped without wind. A young Daoist acolyte, who had been dozing off, turned pale with terror. He dared not retrieve the scroll and hurriedly reported the incident to the Celestial Master’s Mansion. Zhao Danxia, the esteemed Daoist official in charge of all Daoist affairs across the land, swiftly arrived at the hall. He felt a mix of surprise and joy, yet a hint of worry lingered in his heart. Kneeling before the wall, he carefully picked up the scroll.
A layman of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, Bai Yu, slowly crossed the threshold. Known as the “White Lotus Scholar,” he compared himself to a bookworm, his eyes damaged from excessive reading, his movements slow. He crouched beside Zhao Danxia, who wore yellow and purple robes, lost in thought.
Zhao Danxia, the foremost Daoist of the Yangli Dynasty, softly asked, “Misfortune and fortune are intertwined. But in the White Lotus Scholar’s opinion, which is more prevalent?”
Bai Yu shook his head. “The omens are chaotic, but if the young Zhao Ningshen could summon the first patriarch of Longhu Mountain, surpassing the feat of invoking three recent patriarchs a century ago, when thunderbolts from ten thousand miles away struck down the demonic Liu Songtao, then Zhao Ningshen’s character can be trusted. Since he acts as Heaven’s agent, it is likely that great fortune will dispel calamity. I cannot imagine anyone capable of overpowering the first patriarch. Wang Xianzhi and a few others might stand a chance, but on the Spring Goddess Lake, Zhao Ningshen should be assured of victory. After this battle, it will be a great boon for Longhu Mountain.”
Zhao Danxia respectfully rehung the portrait in the center of the ancestral wall. After bowing again, he stepped back, gazing at the wall adorned with portraits of immortals from past dynasties. Even a Daoist of his cultivation could not help feeling exhilarated. These immortals were Longhu Mountain’s greatest talismans, sustaining the mountain for nearly a millennium, while the Yangli Dynasty had only lasted two centuries. If not for the emergence of a malevolent dragon in the sacred land of Difei Mountain, which affected the spiritual energy of Longhu Mountain’s lotus pond, the mountain would have formed a pillar of fortune rivaling the heavenly gates, ensuring five hundred more years of prosperity. Suppressing his unease, Zhao Danxia recalled how Zhao Ningshen, the Celestial Master’s heir, had blocked Deng Tai’a’s sword strike during his ascent to the mountain, earning instant fame. Smiling as he stroked his beard, he said, “With Zhao Ningshen as such a promising young talent, summoning the ancient patriarch much earlier than expected, we need not fear a shortage of capable successors. With the White Lotus Scholar’s devoted support, Longhu Mountain is secure.”
Suddenly, Bai Yu rubbed his eyes, staring at the dozens of portraits on the ancestral wall, his face filled with horror. Though his vision was weak, his inner sight was keen. He vaguely sensed an anomaly. Zhao Danxia, with his profound Daoist cultivation, noticed the anomaly only slightly later than Bai Yu. The portraits, which had never before shown signs of fading, were now exhibiting signs of spiritual energy depletion! Almost all the portraits showed signs of fading vitality, except for the one resembling Qi Xian Xia, which remained unaffected. Bai Yu murmured in disbelief, “Impossible, impossible.”
The esteemed Daoist official, his mind unsettled, knelt heavily, his right palm covering his left, weeping, ” unworthy descendant Zhao Danxia kneels to beg the patriarchs for mercy!”
※※※
Under the night sky, Longhu Mountain appeared serene, yet beneath the surface, turmoil brewed. A year after lifting its seclusion, Wudang Mountain reopened most of its temples to pilgrims, except for the main temple housing the statue of the Great God of War, which remained closed. Elder Daoists like Chen You and Song Zhiming rarely appeared, occasionally entering and exiting the main temple. Wudang Mountain had grown accustomed to these venerable elders’ elusive presence, unlike other Daoist mountains where even slightly senior Daoists were busy entertaining officials and nobles, leaving no time for cultivation. After the passing of the old abbot Wang Chonglou, Longhu Mountain had successively produced two young abbots. However, Wudang Mountain’s incense offerings not only did not decline but instead grew more prosperous, bringing joy to the monks and acolytes. Yet, following the elders’ example, they never looked down upon pilgrims due to their popularity. Even Li Yufu, the youngest abbot in Wudang history, was no different from ordinary monks, just like his junior uncle Hong Xixiang. Besides personally teaching rituals daily, he often set up stalls to divine for pilgrims. Some illiterate pilgrims even asked him to write letters home, which he did meticulously in regular script. Pilgrims said that after sending the letters, their families prospered. Initially, some scholarly families advised the common people, saying that troubling the abbot with such matters would hinder his cultivation toward immortality. However, Li Yufu personally reassured them, saying that Daoist cultivation was about becoming an ordinary person. When one cultivates an ordinary heart, whether one becomes an immortal or not is of little consequence. Eating, sleeping, reading, and writing are all forms of cultivation. Every big or small matter is cultivation, meaning one cultivates at all times. Thus, the saying spread throughout the martial world: “Others cultivate Dao for immortality, while Wudang cultivates Dao for ordinariness.”
Inside the temple, Chen You, the most senior Wudang elder in charge of discipline, stood solemnly on the threshold outside the hall, gazing at the statue of the Great God of War. Beside him stood Song Zhiming, over 140 years old and having served under four abbots, and Yu Xingrui, the current abbot Li Yufu’s master.
The three immortals’ expressions were extremely grave. Yu Xingrui, unable to contain his thoughts, quietly asked his two senior brothers, “The prince has returned from his second journey through the martial world to Beiliang, and has been constantly asking us about the differences between the methods of invoking deities on Wudang and Longhu Mountains. According to the scale of this grand ritual, which deity closely connected to Wudang do we wish to summon? Originally, if my younger brother had been willing to ascend to heaven, it would not have been too difficult to summon Lüzu. At least, compared to the near-impossible task of attaining immortality, it would have been slightly easier. However, even if it were not so difficult, given the prince’s current cultivation level, the key has never been about Daoist cultivation. Even with Wudang’s eighty-one peaks performing the ritual, it might not be possible to summon a Daoist immortal who, according to heavenly principles, should not be tainted by the mundane world. Senior Brothers Chen and Song, to be honest, I have always been reluctant for Wudang Mountain to get involved in the secular struggles for supremacy, as it goes against Lüzu’s teachings!”
Song Zhiming smiled and said, “Longhu Mountain is in a panic, desperately trying to transfer the entire spiritual fortune of the Dragon Pond to the young Celestial Master so that he can awaken his spiritual powers. However, Daoist cultivation is like climbing a mountain; one must steadily ascend step by step. How can one expect the mountain to come to them instead of going to the mountain? Longhu Mountain has produced many Zhao immortals, but…”
Before the old Daoist could finish, Chen You suddenly turned around, and a purple lightning bolt struck down from the heavens. Chen You frowned and said, “That young Celestial Master is indeed extraordinary, awakening his spiritual powers at such a young age. If he could have progressed gradually, how wonderful it would have been. If there were one more immortal worthy of the title in the world, even if it meant Wudang would be overshadowed, what of it?”
At that moment, the three senior elders of Wudang were unaware that behind them, the statue of the Great God of War was gradually fading the words “Exile Three Thousand Miles.”
※※※
On the Spring Goddess Lake, warships were as numerous as reeds. Prince Jing’an, Zhao Xun, personally arrived aboard a yellow dragon warship. Beside him, dressed in imperial yellow dragon robes, stood a woman veiled in white gauze, her figure graceful. The strategist who had always shadowed him in Xiangfan was absent today, as Zhao Xun harbored personal reservations. After the sudden death of the old Prince Jing’an, Zhao Heng, the young prince’s trusted confidants were few, and among them, only one man and one woman held his trust and reliance. The blind Lu Xu was indispensable, having been treated as a national scholar by both the old and new princes. Zhao Xun deeply respected Lu Xu, knowing that his father had left him not only a precarious princely title but also the invaluable strategist. Zhao Xun held Lu Xu in genuine esteem, even reverence. However, precisely because of this, when Lu Xu subtly expressed indifference toward the woman beside him, Zhao Xun felt uneasy, fearing that Lu Xu might be displeased. Despite being the ruler of Xiangfan in Qingzhou, he had never brought the woman into the Jing’an Mansion, instead keeping her hidden in a secret house within the city. He had even postponed his marriage to the princess several times for her sake, showing her importance in his heart.
Zhao Xun secretly reached out to hold her hand, but she gently glared at him, and the young prince reluctantly withdrew his hand. Instead of being annoyed by her indifference, he felt immense joy.
This was the woman he could never attain in this life—the former Princess Jing’an, Pei Nanwei, who had supposedly died for love. If she were obedient and submissive, always yielding to his every whim, even if she looked exactly like Pei Nanwei, Zhao Xun would not have cherished her so deeply, and would have long since discarded her like a used tool.
Zhao Xun looked around, his gaze sweeping over the imposing Qingzhou navy. He was confident that he could build the Qingzhou navy into an even mightier force than the Guangling navy. At that moment, filled with ambition, he extended his hand toward the river, pointing with the air of a leader shaping the destiny of the land, saying, “Nanwei, my father never truly controlled the Qingzhou navy, let alone made the Qing faction submit, but I have done it, in just one year!”
The woman softly replied, “Master Lu is a man of great talent, praised by Chancellor Zhang and Grand Secretary Sun. It was already beneath him to serve in Xiangfan. You must never harbor any resentment toward him just because he dislikes me. If Master Lu were to flatter you merely to please you, then he would be beneath contempt.”
Zhao Xun smiled even more, nodding and saying, “Rest assured, as long as I, Zhao Xun, remain prosperous, Master Lu will never know hardship. Whatever Prince Yanke, Zhao Bing, gives to Nalan Youci, I will give even more to Master Lu.”
The woman coldly reprimanded him, “What is the point of such flattery? You know well that Master Lu does not care for such empty honors and wealth. Your temperament is too flighty!”
Zhao Xun laughed heartily and said, “You’re right. I should calm down.”
A silence followed.
Zhao Xun gazed at the vast Spring Goddess Lake and softly vowed, “One day, I will give this entire Spring Goddess Lake to you, Zhao Xun swears, with utmost sincerity!”
The woman’s lips curved slightly.
※※※
Outside Xiangfan City, a group of travelers with two carriages passed by without entering. Among them was a wealthy old man, a formidable man, a fat pig, and several intimidating attendants.
Near a reed marsh, both carriages halted simultaneously. The old man alighted, walking with a slight limp, his hands clasped behind his back, unable to hide his hunched back. He muttered to himself, “Was it right here that the eleventh strongest man in the world, Wang Mingyin, was killed? And with a single spear thrust, the trusted cavalry general of Old Zhao Heng, that old woman, was also slain?”
The fat pig waddled over, grinning, “Father, the prince said ‘draw sword’ before the kill and ‘sheath sword’ after, only four words in total. Ning Emei and the hundred Fengzi Camp soldiers were completely won over at that moment.”
The old man, whose hands and face already bore yellow spots, smiled and squatted down, scooping up a handful of soil, holding it in his palm as he gazed into the reeds, lost in thought.
The old man murmured, “After Huang Zhentu brought him back to Beiliang, he told me that the child always cursed me bitterly, filled with resentment, yet constantly found excuses to visit places where I had once fought battles, walking and observing.”
The fat pig squatted down, finding it uncomfortable, so he simply sat on the ground, grinning, “Father, the prince has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. He just stubbornly refuses to admit it. Deep down, he greatly admires you. Most sons are like that.”
The old man smiled faintly, tilting his hand as the soil slid off, softly saying, “Such a child, protected by sword immortals and loyal guards, so timid that he dared not remove his armor even while sleeping. How did he dare go to the northern barbarians alone? How did he dare confront the deadly enemy, Di Wuhe? The night before heading to the northern barbarians, he drank with me, and before passing out drunk, he cried and told me he had a dream that was not a dream. On the summit of Kuanglu Mountain, a celestial being named Zhao Huangchao emerged from his body and killed his mother’s soul. He said that one day, he would kill that man. When he first started practicing the sword, I actually did not have high hopes for him. I knew that seeking revenge was natural, but whether one could do it was another matter. But whether one would go through with it, whether one would give up when faced with hardship, that was yet another. In terms of status, across the Yangli and northern barbarians, or even further back to the Spring and Autumn periods of Zhongyuan, there were many who were better than him. But at his age, daring to kill Xu Huainan, Di Wuhe, Luoyang, and celestial beings, persisting step by step in what he wanted to do—such people are truly rare.”
The old man wiped the hand that had held the soil against his sleeve, then reached into the other sleeve to pull out a jade bracelet with only a few green threads left. It had lost too much green, and its quality was poor, worth little. The old man smiled and said, “When I was young, I had the best eye for women in the world, but when it came to choosing such things, I was terrible. I was determined to earn money to buy something presentable for my future wife, but I could never save enough, so I shamelessly borrowed fifty taels of silver from Xun Ping. In the end, I bought such a bracelet, which started losing its green just a few days after I gave it to her. I knew I had been scammed, but she didn’t mind and wore it all the time.”
The old man pressed the bracelet against his thin, withered cheek, feeling its coolness, softly saying, “That night, when the bald monk Yang came to drink with me, she said she would go out to buy more wine and took off the bracelet, leaving it in the room. At the time, I didn’t think much of it.”
The old man said no more, put the bracelet away, slowly stood up, and calmly said, “Whoever dares to obstruct the scholars’ migration north to Beiliang, kill them.”
Who knows that the tigers and rhinos of Beiliang have already been released!
※※※
At the southern shore of the Spring Goddess Lake, Kuai Xue Zhuang.
Whether it was Zhao Ningshen of the Celestial Master’s Mansion or the Daoist of the first patriarch of Longhu Mountain, the man was radiant with purple and gold, his face blurred, exuding an immense aura of immortality.
When an ordinary man is enraged, blood splatters three feet; when an emperor is enraged, a hundred thousand corpses fall.
What happens when an immortal is enraged?
The Daoist, whose aura surpassed even Zhao Huangchao of Kuanglu Mountain riding a dragon, shouted, “Audacious mortal, Xu Fengnian! You rely on dark forces to wreak havoc in the human world, unaware that Heaven’s net is vast yet inescapable! Under the mighty Dao, why do you not surrender?”
The Spring Goddess Lake surged violently, waves rising dozens of feet high, nearly reaching the eaves of the mansion. The Daoist ascended, while not a single drop of lake water entered Kuai Xue Zhuang.
Xu Fengnian laughed wildly, his laughter echoing throughout the mansion.
The immortal was furious, how dare this insignificant ant be so brazen!
Xu Fengnian ceased his laughter, his expression solemn, “You and Zhao Huangchao, open your dog eyes and see who is truly the mortal!”
Suddenly, the Spring Goddess Lake and the heavens brightened as if it were daylight.
Xu Fengnian closed his eyes, his hands crossed in front of his abdomen, as if holding a sword upright.
On the Spring Goddess Lake, a giant turtle emerged, its back bearing an inscribed tablet without words.
The massive turtle’s back slowly surfaced.
Xu Fengnian stood alone on the turtle’s head.
Behind him, a golden foot of an immortal suddenly stepped onto the turtle’s back.
A giant serpent rose from the lake, coiling around the giant turtle.
After the golden foot, a magnificent golden body gradually appeared.
A hundred feet tall, it looked down upon the world.
The Great God of War, commanding the northern regions, ruling the position of Xuanwu.
Celestial music and chants filled the air.
Heavenly maidens scattered flowers from the sky, appearing and disappearing in an instant.
Xu Fengnian, expressionless, slowly spoke, his voice as mighty as a great bell, “Before the Great God of War, where is there room for celestial beings?”
The “Zhao Ningshen,” who had previously exuded the majesty of an immortal surpassing earthly emperors, suddenly had his face blur and sharpen alternately, his purple and golden aura instantly unstable. With a moment’s hesitation, the hundred-foot-tall golden body of the Great God of War raised a massive sword without physical form and struck down.
It directly shattered the so-called celestial body of the first patriarch of Longhu Mountain.
A thousand miles away, the Dragon Pond of the Celestial Master’s Mansion boiled furiously. The previously fully bloomed lotus flowers of fortune in the pond withered completely, leaving only a small bud helplessly drifting.
In a thatched hut on Longhu Mountain lived a middle-aged Daoist. In a rage, his body was as if bound by an ultimate heavenly decree. His knees were forced to kneel, pressing two pits into the ground. Not only that, but his head was also pressed down.
The Daoist faced the Great God of War, prostrating himself completely.
He, who cultivated only solitude and secrecy without seeking heavenly Dao, painfully cried out, “Longhu Mountain has betrayed my Zhao family!”
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