Penglai

Li Ximing entered the treasury alongside the red-robed disciple of Hengzhu Dao. Chen Xuanyu walked ahead with him, while Li Qinghong trailed lightly a step behind, somewhat lost in thought. Hengzhu Dao was an orthodox sect, yet Li Qinghong did not dare trust them entirely. Whatever she wished to exchange for, she could only turn to Hengzhu and no other. There was no alternative: the spiritual object taken from Wang Fu belonged to the Binggu lineage and had already been exposed before Hengzhu, who practiced the Binggu path. How could they possibly hide it away again? Bi Yuzhuang's covetous desire had been written plainly across her face, leaving Li Qinghong no choice but to go with the flow. Yet thinking a layer deeper, suspicions arose in her heart. Had Wang Fu bringing out a Binggu spiritual object been part of Hengzhu's calculations all along? This trip had unfolded with such ease—why had Xuanyue Gate instigated her family to undertake it in the first place? Clearly, the drunkard's intent lay elsewhere. Throughout this journey, Li Qinghong felt as though she were being led by the nose. She had long realized that what her family desired and what they possessed had already been laid bare before the various Zifu masters. *Our family is not like the Xiao clan. We do not have someone like Xiao Xianyou laying groundwork for three centuries, nor do we possess the schemes of Xiao Chuting. If Ximing has practiced a secret Zifu method, can the various Zifu masters see through it? If they can... attempting to conceal it is entirely futile.* Now only a single thought lingered in her mind: *Whether our family has a chance to produce a Zifu master truly depends on whether the balance of power among the various Zifu allows a Li Zifu to emerge. Even if permitted, it is merely an attempt, and the probability of breakthrough remains pitifully low.* As these thoughts drifted through her mind, Li Ximing halted ahead. The red-robed Taoist retrieved an item from a spiritual barrier—a small reddish-yellow banner adorned with a red sparrow and encircled by seven crimson rays of light. He introduced it, saying, "This item was obtained by our Mingyang sect from the Donghuo Grotto-Heaven. It is called the Yangli Red Sparrow Banner. It possesses the power to spew spiritual fire, dispel spells, shake Lihuo light, and batter spiritual senses." Beside him, Chen Xuanyu examined it closely and said in a low voice, "The flames of this magical artifact are fierce. It is best wielded by a cultivator who practices Lihuo. If one's cultivation technique conflicts with it, it cannot be used; even if one's arts are unrelated, it could easily scorch oneself. Even if not purely Lihuo, it is best handled by someone of Fire virtue." Although Chen Xuanyu had not seen Li Ximing take action often just now, he had already witnessed the form of Huangyuan Pass, and kindly advised in a low voice, "Ximing's cultivation technique excels at suppression. Lihuo can refine objects, and its burning and incinerating power is second only to True Fire, yet more persistent, burning fiercer the longer it blazes. It matches Ximing's immortal foundation very well." Another artifact on display was a jar meant to suppress enemies, but its function was far too similar to Li Ximing's Huangyuan Pass. Beside it lay a dharma sword of the cold qi path, quite formidable, but Li Xijun already possessed Hanlin, making another sword redundant. After weighing his options, Li Ximing resolved to take the Yangli Red Sparrow Banner. Though it was a Lihuo artifact, it was ultimately an item from Donghuo Grotto-Heaven, making it handy for him to wield. Li Ximing turned to glance at Li Qinghong. Once she nodded, Li Ximing brought forth a treasure pagoda and stored the banner within. He showed little outward joy; his own array of magical artifacts was already complete, and bringing this back was mainly to bestow as a clan reward. Having collected the artifact, the three bade farewell to Bi Yuzhuang. The red-robed woman seemed to have received some news and came forward with hesitation. Looking at Chen Xuanyu, she said softly, "Fellow Daoist, you should take Baiwan with you and trouble yourself to escort Qinghong and Ximing back to the Li clan. Keep this spiritual veil in your hands for now; my sect's juniors will come to retrieve it later. Keep it on my behalf—should anything arise in the future, it will also give the Real Person an excuse to lend a hand." She revealed a swath of white gauze in her hand—the very concealing artifact they had used earlier to ambush Wang Fu. Chen Xuanyu asked no questions, accepted the gauze, offered his farewell, and departed with the two of them. The red pavilion emptied at once. Bi Yuzhuang sat beside the table, her expression finally betraying guilt. Resting her brow in her hands, she pondered for a time, feeling deeply uneasy. *Could Qinghong think I intentionally sent Xijun to his death...? I clearly meant to help her. How did things end up in such a state?* She had held a favorable impression of Li Xijun. Having just praised him, she had inadvertently become the catalyst for his demise, leaving her heart heavy with unspeakable distress. When the red-robed Taoist stepped forward to report what artifacts the two families had taken, she had no mind to listen and simply waved him away. Bi Yuzhuang paced two circles around the chamber. The silver-white box still rested upon the table. She scrutinized it, musing inwardly, *Exchanging it for a Binggu spiritual object was an unbelievable bargain, but this matter cannot be measured purely like that... Still, the gains from this Zifu game are not small. At most, Changxiao and Red Reef will harbor some resentment, but it will hardly come to an outright extermination...* *** Meanwhile, within the jade box holding Li Xijun's soul, the talisman seed remained linked to him. The Li clan had always assumed that the talisman seed resided within the Qihai acupoint, as a small black sphere resting at the bottom of the qi sea from the beginning of cultivation was quite recognizable. But as the one who cast the technique, Lu Jiangxian understood it far more deeply. When the talisman seed entered the body, it existed within the Qihai as well as the Shengyang and Juque acupoints. If anyone in the Li family condensed a divine ability, they could likewise visualize the talisman seed within the Shengyang and Juque palaces. Rather than saying the talisman seed resided in these three palaces, it was more accurate to say that visualizing within these three palaces revealed it. Thus, the Li clan's early fears that the talisman seed in the qi sea might be detected by others were unfounded. Even if a Zifu master's spiritual sense penetrated inside, it would perceive only an empty expanse. Consequently, Lu Jiangxian harbored no concern that Li Xijun would suffer from the mystery of the womb during the reshaping of his body, nor that the cultivators of Penglai would discover the secret. Even if Li Xijun's soul were seized and interrogated, the talisman seed would still function as intended. Because Li Xijun's soul had been preserved and had not dissipated, the talisman seed had not fled back, maintaining its connection with him. Once he regained a physical body and resumed cultivation, he would be able to perceive the talisman seed in his qi sea once more. Lu Jiangxian had long been curious about Penglai. While he had not entered it in person, the scenes reflected through the Great Void via the talisman seed, transmitting everything around the jade box holding Li Xijun's soul back to the Immortal Mirror. Trapped within the mirror for centuries, Lu Jiangxian had endured immense mental torment; even while perceiving these transmitted illusions, he manifested a phantom form to stroll about, finding a measure of solace. Legend held that Penglai was an immortal mountain upon the East Sea that appeared and vanished intermittently. The Six Sects and One Gate mostly considered it a grotto-heaven. Those who could enter were few, and the cultivators within were sparse; across the vast white ocean, only scattered dozens of figures appeared here and there. The sky above was pure white, devoid of sun or moon, yet suffused with an innate clarity. Mountain ranges rose and fell within the sea, and the seawater itself was white. Dotted between the two white expanses were small islands emerging from the waves. Spiritual fish swam through the water, set off by colorful reefs and spiritual trees in vibrant hues. Two cultivators clad in ancient Daoist robes with hair bound in topknot crowns trod upon the water, conversing with smiles. Before them stood a white-robed young man with hands clasped behind his back, observing curiously. Yet the two Penglai cultivators walked straight toward him as though oblivious, passing directly through his form. The white-robed young man made no move to avoid them, his body entirely illusory. Allowing the two cultivators to pass through him, he remained in place gazing at the seascape, sighing softly, "So this is Penglai..." Lu Jiangxian trailed behind the two Taoists, sorting through his thoughts. *Regarding the Li family's pursuit of Zifu, the various sects seem to harbor no great resistance; rather, they all appear inclined to let nature take its course. After all, no Zifu sect bears a mortal feud with the Li clan. It is nothing more than friction between chess pieces, hardly a matter of consequence.* *In the eyes of the various Zifu masters, Li Ximing's demeanor can hardly be considered outstanding; granting him a twenty percent chance of success is already an overestimation. Most of the Zifu masters likely think the Li family is bustling about in vain right now. The one truly worthy of attention, Li Zhouwei, is still far too young.* As Lu Jiangxian pondered, the two Penglai cultivators halted ahead. Two figures descended from the sky, dressed in the attire of Penglai cultivators, slightly older and bearing an air of transcendent grace. Behind them stood a youth wearing a Daoist crown and gold-patterned robes. His features were unremarkable, with a peach-wood sword tied at his waist, yet upon his back rested an enormous sword casket—luxurious, dashing, and carved with one hundred and seventy-four cloud patterns. Within the casket lay eighteen flying swords, their sword qi concealed inside. Manifesting the sword casket outside his physical form and gathering eighteen sword intents clearly signaled that he had already mastered a divine ability. Lu Jiangxian was slightly startled. He actually recognized this person! It was none other than the sword immortal of the Wang family of Yinghua—the great-great-grandson of True Monarch Xiaojin and son of Real Person Yingyuan, Wang Xun! This youth possessed a remarkable background. In order to witness the world's sword intents, he had once visited the Li family, observed Li Chijing's sword intent, and left behind Wanling Flower seeds as a gift. Though Wang Xun was now an exalted Real Person, he still carried the pure, vibrant spirit of his youth, showing his former demeanor. In his dealings with others, he was far more practiced than in the past. Smiling toward the two Penglai cultivators, he greeted them, "Greetings, Fellow Daoists." The two cultivators hastily dodged his salute, crying out in panic, "We dare not! We dare not! Juniors pay respects to the Real Person!" The middle-aged cultivator clearly disliked such formalities. Cutting short their pleasantries, he waved the two away and led Wang Xun back, smiling. "Fellow Daoist Wang, if I remember correctly, this is your first time visiting our Penglai Immortal Mountain." Wang Xun nodded. The two descended toward the ground below. On the barren mountain peak sat a dilapidated Daoist temple. Before the temple, a well had been dug, with a broken wooden bucket resting beside it—hardly resembling the abode of a Real Person. The middle-aged Real Person paid it no mind, pushing open the door. The two sat down in a small wing room within the courtyard, where tea was served. Lu Jiangxian casually sat upon the threshold, his white robe adorned with sun-and-moon markings draping downward as he crossed his arms to listen. Wang Xun watched the middle-aged cultivator take his seat and recalled the polite pleasantries he had memorized, deciding to praise his lineage first. Wearing a smile, he looked toward the jade shelves on either side and said without thinking, "Fellow Daoist's collection of scriptures here is truly..." The words caught in his throat. The two jade shelves were utterly bare. Where ancient texts and jade slips ought to have rested, there was nothing at all—save for a single tortoise shell. "Ah?" Wang Xun stared blankly, his compliment choked off. Having recited only half of his rehearsed courtesy, he hung suspended between words, at a complete loss. Lu Jiangxian glanced at him, musing inwardly, *I thought this young Wang Sword Immortal had matured, but it turns out he simply memorized his lines in advance.* The middle-aged Real Person chuckled warmly, unobtrusively displaying his sect's profound foundation. Glancing at the tortoise shell upon the jade shelf, he said with a smile, "I should let Fellow Daoist know that our Penglai Immortal Realm never keeps a single scroll or slip, nor do we place our heritage on shelves. All these traditions are held within the Kongtong Immortal Book, preserved deep beneath the sea. Should the need arise, one simply communicates through spiritual sense." His response left Wang Xun blinking in surprise, prompting the middle-aged Real Person to ask with a smile, "Does Fellow Daoist know the reason behind this?" Gradually regaining his composure, Wang Xun replied crisply, "I would be delighted to hear the details!" Stroking his beard, the middle-aged Real Person spoke leisurely: "Our Penglai Immortal Realm has maintained this rule since its founding, so far back that the years can no longer be counted. It was established by an Immortal Monarch, and thus no one has ever dared violate it. As for the reason... it is also an amusing legend." "It is said that in ancient times, immortals were numerous in our Penglai Immortal Realm, and immortal arts and techniques were plentiful. There was an Immortal Monarch named Chufu who journeyed across the Nine Provinces and encountered another Immortal Monarch in the ancient state of Jin." "The two fell into discord over doctrinal disputes and clashed above the Jin River. Who could have foreseen that an immortal's words carry the force of law? The Jin River flowed backward, drowning mortal armies." "Consequently, both Immortal Monarchs suffered the reprimand of the Heavenly Dao, with thunder rumbling without cease. Immortal Monarch Chufu had no choice but to return to Penglai. Who knew that the other Immortal Monarch would secretly follow? His art of Heavenly Hearing was exceedingly profound, and seizing the opportunity, he read through all the scriptures of the entire grotto-heaven!" Wang Xun listened entranced, stunned and somewhat incredulous, yet on second thought found it only natural, replying, "After all, the ways of Immortal Monarchs cannot be measured..." The middle-aged Real Person chuckled and said, "Immortal Monarch Chufu discovered it only after the fact and fell into a towering rage. The two battled beyond the heavens, fighting until the Golden Crow fell out of place and the stars shifted! Several Immortal Monarchs went to watch, causing the earthly formation plates to dislocate and spiritual energy to shift every three days." "Though the two Immortal Monarchs later turned from foes to friends, and that Immortal Monarch even gifted a heavenly stele recording immortal arts into the sea, this tradition has been handed down ever since." "As for that tortoise shell... after the two Immortal Monarchs became friends, Immortal Monarch Chufu took great pleasure in placing a tortoise shell upon the shelf. He said that the other Immortal Monarch had mastered arts to evade the Three Calamities and Nine Tribulations for eternal youth, yet possessed an overly cautious temperament—so he placed the tortoise shell specifically to mock him." The middle-aged Real Person sighed softly and concluded, "After all, the ways of Immortal Monarchs cannot be measured."