Mount Longhu was the ancestral court of Daoism.
Towering peaks and perilous ridges were enshrouded in swirling mist, steeped in rich mythological lore. Legend held that Zhang Daoling—the founder of Zhengyi Dao and foremost among the Four Heavenly Masters of Daoism—had once refined elixirs here. On the day the elixir was completed, a wondrous phenomenon resembling a dragon and a tiger manifested in the sky, giving Mount Longhu its name.
Three famous sites graced the mountain: the Celestial Master Mansion, Zhengyi Temple, and the Palace of Supreme Purity, each home to practicing Daoist priests. Yet in terms of prominence and renown, none surpassed the Celestial Master Mansion.
At this moment, four or five figures clad in Daoist vestments stood gathered beneath the mountain gate.
Among them was an elderly Daoist with grizzled hair, dressed in a crimson robe and standing at the very front. In Daoism, robe colors distinguished a practitioner’s seniority and status, and crimson was second only to purple. This elder was none other than Daoist Priest Yuyang, junior martial brother to the current Celestial Master of Mount Longhu's Celestial Master Mansion.
The others wore plain blue robes, marking them as juniors.
By all accounts, Mount Longhu was a renowned scenic destination, teeming with sightseers even on ordinary weekdays. Today, however, not a single tourist was in sight. The Celestial Master Mansion had arranged a full-day closure specifically to welcome a group of distinguished guests.
"Martial Grandfather, it's almost ten. Why haven't they arrived? Could you have mixed up the date?"
Before long, a young Daoist craned his neck to gaze into the distance. Seeing no sign of movement, he couldn't help speaking up in a hushed tone.
Although seniority was strictly observed in Daoism, the daily rules were relatively relaxed, which was why the young priest dared to ask. After all, he knew his martial grandfather was already in his nineties.
"No rush, no rush," Perfected Yuyang replied with an easy smile, telling him not to fret. By his calculations, the guests should arrive right about now, and his reckoning was rarely off.
"Martial Grandfather, look!" a sharp-eyed Daoist suddenly spoke up, pointing ahead.
The group looked in that direction. A tour bus had appeared, slowly pulling to a stop at the roadside. Five or six individuals stepped down. Ranging from their thirties to their fifties, every one of them carried an air of distinction and wore fine clothing, clearly backed by formidable wealth.
"Welcome, esteemed patrons, to our Celestial Master Mansion on Mount Longhu. Allow this humble Daoist to express our gratitude once more for your generous donations," Perfected Yuyang stepped forward to greet them, bowing slightly with hands clasped in a traditional salute. "Today, this humble Daoist shall escort you to select your preferred personal lay sanctuaries."
These visitors were wealthy benefactors who had recently made substantial donations. Because their contributions had met a certain threshold, they had earned the privilege of selecting their own lay cultivation grounds on Mount Longhu. It was little wonder that the junior martial brother of the current Celestial Master had come down to receive them in person.
"You are far too polite, Perfected One. We worldly folk are truly humbled," a portly, middle-aged man with slicked hair hurried forward, clutching a briefcase. His speech was conspicuously refined, clearly rehearsed well in advance during the ride over. "This junior is Liu Qing. You may simply call me Xiao Liu, Perfected One."
The other wealthy patrons glanced at him with mild disdain, but their expressions remained courteous as they stepped forward to offer greetings. They had known before arriving that the Daoist receiving them held lofty seniority, so none dared presume upon their wealth or social standing.
It was often said that the higher one rose in wealth and status, the more inclined one became toward the spiritual and unseen. The benefactors gathered here belonged precisely to that category.
"The hour is getting on, Perfected One. Shall we make our way up to the Celestial Master Mansion?" Boss Liu suggested, eager to sample the vegetarian fare of this ancestral Daoist court and absorb a bit of its transcendent aura. The other patrons evidently shared his sentiment.
"It seems one person is still missing," the young Daoist murmured nearby, flipping through the register and counting heads. He spoke up again, "Indeed, there's still one person who hasn't arrived."
The patrons were momentarily taken aback, their faces clouding with displeasure. Usually, others waited on them. To think they were now being kept waiting for someone else!
Yet seeing that Perfected Yuyang remained serenely rooted in place, none of them could openly object, leaving them standing awkwardly where they were.
Not long after, a black Mercedes G-Class entered view. A young man stepped out of the vehicle.
Without hesitation, he walked over and offered a slight, apologetic nod. "Priest, I drove down from Shanghai, so there was some congestion along the way."
The young man was Lu Yuan, having driven directly from Shanghai.
"No matter. All that counts is that you have arrived," Perfected Yuyang replied, unbothered. It had not delayed them long anyway.
With that, he took the lead, guiding the entire party toward the Celestial Master Mansion atop the mountain.
A few of the patrons couldn't help feeling a flicker of concern. The old Daoist was well past ninety—could he truly make the climb?
As it turned out, though Perfected Yuyang was advanced in years and looked wizened, his stamina ran deep. Starting from the foot of the mountain, he walked steadily upward for over an hour without displaying the slightest sign of fatigue, his eyes remaining clear and alert.
In contrast, the wealthy patrons led by Boss Liu were gasping for breath, constantly downing water. Even the young Daoists looked somewhat pale, evidently worn out by the exertion.
"Esteemed patrons, we have plenty of time. Why not take a short rest?" Perfected Yuyang suggested, thoroughly accustomed to such scenes.
His proposal was met with universal relief. The visitors slumped to the ground, clutching their chests.
Yet a moment later, the old Daoist's gaze shifted slightly. Not far off, Lu Yuan remained upright and completely at ease, appearing almost identical to how he had looked at the base of the mountain. It was as though the lengthy trek had taken nothing out of him at all.
*Is it simply because he's young and in good shape? No, that can't be it.*
Perfected Yuyang cast a sideways glance. Over his many decades on Mount Longhu, he had seen countless mountain climbers, yet he had never encountered anyone who remained as entirely unfazed as Lu Yuan.
Though curious, he refrained from probing and simply closed his eyes to rest.
Lu Yuan had naturally noticed the old Daoist's scrutiny. He mused inwardly, *After the mutation, Mount Longhu was one of the few renowned mountains that produced major figures right from the early stages and secured a firm foothold in the new era. Several of its elder Daoists grew utterly unfathomable later on. It seems they were not entirely unprepared. Take this Perfected Yuyang—he's over ninety, yet his stamina surpasses that of young men.*
*Ordinary people would dismiss it as the constitution of an enlightened transcendent, but the reality is far from that simple.*
He knew full well that legendary mountains steeped in mythology possessed immense heritage. Perhaps ancestral lineages and inheritances had always been present, merely suppressed by the atmospheric constraints of the world and unable to manifest. Once the global mutation struck and shattered those worldly shackles, the cultivation methods practiced by these monks and Daoists would yield astonishing results. For the elders who had spent decades in solitary meditation, they would instantly become vessels capable of absorbing that mysterious power.
In antiquity, pre-Qin qi practitioners could concoct elixirs, cultivate their spirits, and wield all manner of marvelous arts. In the modern era, those who inherited such traditions would naturally be able to accomplish the same once the world's restrictions were lifted.
In other words, the true power of these elder Daoists was merely sealed.
The onset of the mutation would mark the day of its unsealing.
Just as Lu Yuan had witnessed in his past life, certain figures were able to grow exceedingly powerful in a short span once the new era arrived. Such individuals succeeded because they had already spent decades laying the foundation.
Thinking of this, Lu Yuan felt a touch of admiration, mixed with mild envy.
Yet that was all.
After all, how many decades had someone like Perfected Yuyang devoted to Daoist cultivation?
Lu Yuan, by contrast, needed only a few months of preparation.
Chapter 15