Opportunity

In the northern reaches of the Shattered Lands, the mountains were treacherous and steep, forbidding even to birds in flight. Here, towering peaks and plunging valleys regularly spanned thousands of zhang, and discrepancies of over ten thousand zhang between summits and valley floors were everywhere to be seen. Both humans and Shamans occupied only the relatively flat areas in the southern part of these mountains. Even the Shamans could not survive in such a perilous mountain range stretching for tens of thousands of li. Wei Yuan and his two companions flew into the mountains, climbing higher and higher until, in the blink of an eye, they had reached an altitude of over three thousand zhang above the ground. Here, their surroundings suddenly turned dead calm and windless. Wei Yuan had learned in the Theory of Heaven and Earth that this calm wind zone was the sky's last peaceful realm; going any higher would lead into the bizarre, unpredictable geomagnetic layer, fraught with perils of all kinds. In truth, ferocious beasts roamed even within the calm wind zone, but the environments warped by human settlements—especially within the bounds of boundary stones—left no habitat for such beasts, making them exceedingly rare to encounter there. After flying a little further into the mountains, Wei Yuan indeed spotted an emerald-green peak ahead, looking distinctly out of place amidst the surrounding dark gray peaks. Sure enough, halfway up the mountain stood a small temple—the meeting place agreed upon with the Marquis of Xiang. The peak was somewhat lower than those around it, but its sides dropped sheer and straight. Surrounded by precipices thousands of cubits high, it was impassable to anyone who was not an accomplished Dao Foundation cultivator. Even if Wei Yuan had brought out all three hundred of his cavalrymen, only the original dozen or so would have been able to make it here. Beside the ancient temple stood a gazebo, where the Marquis of Xiang was already waiting, flanked as usual by his maidservant and elderly servant. Wei Yuan touched down outside and stepped into the pavilion, making introductions: "These two are elders from my sect. And this is the Marquis of Xiang, my future patron." The Marquis of Xiang rose and greeted them courteously, putting on no airs whatsoever simply because these two sect elders possessed only Dao Foundation cultivations. Ji Liuli and Zhang Sheng returned the greeting, casually sat down before anyone else, and began sizing up the Marquis of Xiang with conspicuous discourtesy. Though the Marquis of Xiang was worldly and experienced, even he felt a twinge of discomfort at this moment. He had read the dossiers on these two so-called elders of Wei Yuan's. But words on paper were one thing, and the people themselves were quite another; facing them in person now, the Marquis realized the impression they gave was entirely different from the dossiers. The Marquis of Xiang's sister was an imperial noble consort of Zhao, and sharing her resemblance, his looks and bearing were among the world's finest. Combined with his illustrious status, he drew countless eyes wherever he went; men and women alike would steal an extra glance at him, and Zhang Sheng and Ji Liuli were no exception right now. Yet Ji Liuli's gaze roamed boldly over the Marquis like a scoundrel happening upon a solitary beauty, lingering on every place she shouldn't be looking. Initially, the Marquis thought Daoist cultivators were simply forthright and uninhibited, and that Ji Liuli was merely displaying that nature. But keenly perceptive by instinct, he suddenly caught an unusual nuance in her eyes and demeanor. What on earth was this feeling? Pondering it, relying on divine sense that was formidable even among dharma idol cultivators, as well as his rich experience of observing all walks of life, he finally pinned down the exact source of that feeling. It was the very look of a butcher in a marketplace standing before a slaughtered, dressed pig carcass, deliberating over where to make the first cut. For reasons he could not fathom, the hairs on the Marquis's neck suddenly prickled, sending a shiver of dread through him. He was taken aback: could this woman truly pose a threat to him? Zhang Sheng, dressed in scholar's robes, gave off a different impression altogether. He was looking at the Marquis as well, but unlike Ji Liuli, who stared exclusively at sensitive areas, Zhang Sheng's eyes flicked over his hat, robes, belt, thumb ring, and jade pendant. The more valuable an item was, the longer his gaze lingered on it. Sitting before Zhang Sheng, the Marquis of Xiang felt as if he had been turned into an antique waiting to be priced and sold. Of the three, Wei Yuan's gaze was the most earnest, warm, and normal. At the very least, he looked upon the Marquis as a human being. Once they were settled, Wei Yuan asked, "Might I ask what this opportunity the Marquis mentioned is?" "Follow me." The Marquis of Xiang rose to lead the way. Both the maidservant and the elderly servant were somewhat surprised. The Marquis was unusually succinct today; there was no opening banter, no buildup, and none of his customary pie-in-the-sky recruiting talk—not his usual style in the slightest. Little did they know that the staring from Wei Yuan's two sect elders had made the Marquis thoroughly uncomfortable. Glancing once or twice was one thing, but these two simply stared without end, which was exceedingly rude. Wei Yuan followed the Marquis toward the small temple. Ji Liuli and Zhang Sheng remained seated in the gazebo, making no move to follow; the Marquis had practically written "do not follow" across his face. The small temple was built of stone, and after years of neglect, its outer walls had mostly collapsed. Inside the courtyard stood a main hall and a side room, with nothing else besides. The Marquis took the lead into the main hall. The hall was no larger than the main room of an ordinary household, enshrining a single Buddha statue inside. In this world, Buddhism was not as flourishing as the Daoist sects, but it still possessed formidable power, with multiple Great Daos leading directly to the ultimate goal, as well as sects ranked among the immortal sects, such as the Great Treasure Radiance Pure Land. Consequently, Wei Yuan had learned plenty of common Buddhist knowledge; at the very least, he recognized most of the famous Bodhisattvas and Arhats who had achieved the Fruit of Enlightenment, along with well-known dharma idols. Naturally, the Palace of Grand Beginning's curriculum did not intend for disciples to practice Buddhism, but rather to prevent them from being caught off guard during worldly trials. After all, Buddhist dharma idols were passed down through generations of reincarnation, packing far more power than dharma idols cultivated entirely from scratch. Yet Wei Yuan did not recognize the statue in this temple. It looked like an old man, one shoulder bared, appearing rather emaciated. It bore some resemblance to the flesh Buddhas enshrined in rural rustic shrines. However, flesh Buddhas were typically not enshrined in the central altar position, yet in this temple, he was the sole Buddha. The Marquis of Xiang looked up at the statue with a complex expression. After gazing for a while, he finally turned his head and said to Wei Yuan, "Long ago, a drop of Arhat true blood once fell here..." Arhat true blood! Buddhist cultivation differed from the Daoist path; attaining an enlightened fruit status was equivalent to achieving Unity, forever separating the immortal from the mortal. By the standards of the Palace of Grand Beginning, an Arhat was equivalent to an accomplished immortal, not merely an ordinary Immortal Monarch. True blood was extraordinary in Buddhism. At the Arhat level, some claimed it corresponded to the three souls of the human body, while others claimed it corresponded to the three temporal bodies. In short, an Arhat possessed only three drops of true blood in total; losing even one meant a flaw in their very foundation. The spiritual tier of this drop of Arhat true blood was far higher than that of the withered branch of the celestial laurel tree, roughly on par with the fully grown celestial tree itself. "With such a treasure, why does the Marquis not use it for himself?" Wei Yuan asked. The Marquis of Xiang said with a complicated expression, "Buddhist treasures require affinity. Taking them without affinity often brings disaster in tow." Wei Yuan felt a touch of skepticism in his heart. The so-called affinity had been explained with complete clarity during centralized instruction: because of the nature of Buddhist cultivation methods, most Buddhist treasures were bound up with immense karmic consequences. If one could not bear the karma, would disasters not run rampant? Once explained so plainly, it ceased to inspire such awe. "Which Arhat's true blood is it?" Wei Yuan asked. Knowing the Arhat's title would reveal the fruit status and deeds, allowing one to roughly surmise what kind of karma was attached. To his surprise, the Marquis replied, "Not any existing Arhat." A tempestuous shock instantly surged in Wei Yuan's heart.