Qin Xuan, Geng Zhi, and the others descended from the ridge, and the people waiting by the Cold Pool hurried over to meet them.
"Senior Brother!"
Liu Xi and Yu Han finally felt their backbone return. That inversion of day and night, the roar of the dragon vein, and the reshaping of mountains and rivers had been truly eye-opening, but it had scared them half to death.
Whatever had happened beneath the Cold Pool, the Geng family's grave relocation had clearly fallen through.
Qin Xuan gave them a look, warning them not to pry, and walked over to Geng Zhi.
Geng Zhi stood by the pool, laying out offerings anew with deep solemnity.
This time, it was truly a case of "somewhere within these peaks, but lost in depths unknown." Not even he knew where Patriarch Geng's tomb had ended up.
"Head Geng, now that matters are concluded, we shall take our leave."
"Very well. My thanks to the three of you!"
Geng Zhi instructed Old Huang, the leather-clad bladesman, to lead an escort. After about half a li, the two parties parted ways.
With such a massive commotion having broken out on Yunxiu Mountain, there was no keeping it hidden from the world.
Along the road that followed, Qin Xuan related the events beneath the Cold Pool that could be openly shared, using it as a rehearsal before reporting back to the temple.
The two chattered excitedly, thrilled beyond measure.
"Ever since entering the sect, I've never experienced anything like this!"
"Indeed!"
"That ancient tortoise was terrifying, and its temper was dreadful."
"It seems Head Geng has quite a background. We were fortunate Senior Brother was there."
As their senior, Qin Xuan naturally appeared far calmer.
Yu Han pressed on out of curiosity. "Senior Brother, what question did you ask that bladesman with voice transmission last night?"
"That... I realized early on that Head Geng was concealing the truth and hadn't come merely to move a grave. So I asked the bladesman whether they harbored any ill intent toward us."
Liu Xi promptly asked, "How could you know he wouldn't lie?"
"A cold-natured bladesman's senses are, in the end, nowhere near as delicate as a Qi Refining cultivator's. Taken by surprise, he might have tried to lie, but the emotional ripple in that split second would never escape my perception. Had there been danger, even if I possessed means of self-defense, I would have found a way to bring you two down the mountain rather than plunging into the Cold Pool."
Qin Xuan said gently, "In seeking the path of long life, a Qi Refining cultivator cannot lack courage and enterprise, yet one must also think thrice before acting, and avoid overreaching beyond one's strength."
Enlightened by his words, Liu Xi and Yu Han bowed with clasped hands. "Senior Brother, you ought to be a Dharma-transmitting Grand Ritual Elder in our sect."
Qin Xuan smiled. "Then let me share another flaw in Head Geng's facade."
"Where was it?"
"In his wine."
"The wine?"
"Even you two didn't know the origin of Luo City, yet he spoke of Luo wine as if it were common parlance. That shows he knows the history of the Pingyuan King from three thousand years ago. On top of that, he had a descendant of the Faqiu Sect at his side who deals with tomb robbers. Such people invariably pore over ancient records and know ancient history in detail, which helps them discern genuine tombs, read terrain, and seek dragon veins to pinpoint burial sites. How could he possibly be an ordinary merchant?"
The pair nodded, glancing back toward Yunxiu Mountain before looking at Qin Xuan again.
Rumors in the sect claimed Senior Brother Qin only thrived because of his ties to Temple Head Wu.
Ha! Utter nonsense.
By every measure, Senior Brother Qin displayed the true bearing of an elite disciple from a great sect.
They exchanged a meaningful look, entirely convinced. In their distraction, Qin Xuan had already walked a good distance ahead.
"Aren't you coming down? Do you wish to stay behind and keep Head Geng company? Earth qi is permeating the air right now; once the dense fog rolls in, mountain wraiths and yin spirits will gather in droves, making for quite a lively scene."
The two shuddered.
"Senior Brother, wait for us!"
Ahead, Qin Xuan chuckled and quickened his pace, leaving the two shouting and running to catch up.
***
When they reached Taoxi Village at the foot of the mountain, a thick cloud of dust suddenly billowed ahead. A troop of riders with fluttering banners came galloping along the official post road.
"Yah!"
"Hyah!"
The riders at the fore were all dressed in tight traveling attire, with bows and sabers hung from their waists, their faces fierce and weathered.
The man leading them appeared to be around forty, with a lean face, a sparse beard beneath his chin, and a dark cloak wrapped around his shoulders. His gaze was sharp as a hawk's. Behind his back rested a sheathless long saber flanked by two pennants—one yellow, one white—bearing the insignia of two black hawks woven with dense spiritway formation patterns.
Spotting Qin Xuan, he gave a curt nod and led his men straight toward the mountain.
"It's Captain Hong from Yingyang Prefecture," Yu Han said in surprise from the roadside. "They certainly arrived quickly."
"Recently, spiritway demons and monsters have been stirring up trouble. The imperial capital of Great Yan dispatched commanders from Dayu City into every commandery to inspect the City Gods. The fluctuation in the Pingyuan Commandery dragon vein affects the incense and spiritways of the entire commandery. How could Yingyang Prefecture afford to ignore it?"
Watching Captain Hong's retreating back, Qin Xuan felt he had arrived rather late regardless.
"Spiritway demons and monsters?" Liu Xi echoed the phrase.
"Nothing strange about it. Be it temple deities or wildland spirits, when their spirit lifespan runs dry, there will always be those willing to risk turning into monsters just to cling to life in this world."
Qin Xuan cautioned, "The events on Yunxiu Mountain will have repercussions. If you are wise, speak little of its secrets, lest you draw unwanted attention."
Having absolute faith in him, the two nodded vigorously like pounding pestles, agreeing repeatedly.
Chatting along the way, the three made it back to the temple before noon.
"Senior Brother, are you coming to the Records Hall with us?"
"You two go ahead."
Qin Xuan had no fear of them hoarding the temple contribution points. After giving his instructions, he walked through the altar halls toward a two-story bamboo lodge near his own courtyard.
The courtyard gate was shut fast.
His friend Zhao Huaimin had not yet returned.
"Qin Zihou! I was just about to look for you!"
The white crane swooped through the air, its voice carrying from far off. "You really know how to stir up trouble! A single trip to Yunxiu Mountain, and you caused such a monstrous commotion!"
"Nothing to be done. A man of exceptional talent makes the earth tremble wherever he goes."
The crane clutched its belly in laughter, nearly tumbling from midair.
"You're killing this crane! Your skin's grown even thicker!"
It flapped its wings, looking very much like an overgrown goose without a shred of a crane's supposed elegance. "Well? Did you get anything good?"
"Of course. I rescued several spirit herbs."
At that, the crane ruffled its feathers. "Old Daoist Wu summoned you. Seeing as you made me laugh, I'll give you a lift."
Qin Xuan smiled, offered his thanks, and sat cross-legged on the crane's back.
With a crisp cry, the white figure spread its wings, riding the wind through the clouds and leaving the peaks of Yuansong Temple behind in an instant.
Drifting clouds raced past, and the east wind howled.
At this moment, Qin Xuan almost believed He Wushuang's boast about possessing the bloodline of the Great Peng; its speed far exceeded that of ordinary spirit cranes.
The highest peak of Yuansong Temple was the residence of Temple Head Wu.
It was exceptionally quiet here. A winding pebble path led into seclusion, flanked by rustling tall bamboos that chimed like jade in the breeze.
At the end of the path, a thatched hut sat sheltered beneath an old pine. Before it lay a stone terrace with a stone table and stools, upon which rested a small tripod burner billowing with sandalwood incense.
Above the doorway hung a horizontal plaque inscribed with three characters: *Songfeng Hut*.
"Enter."
Qin Xuan followed the white crane inside. The room was sparsely furnished, containing only a wooden desk and several Daoist scrolls. Near the window, an old Daoist leaned against the desk, resting.
He wore a black Daoist robe and held a horsetail whisk. Beneath two long eyebrows, his narrow eyes were half-open, but upon seeing Qin Xuan, a smile surfaced and his eyes widened slightly.
"Not bad. Your cultivation has indeed progressed."
"Temple Head!"
Qin Xuan bowed with clasped hands in a junior's salute. Though Old Daoist Wu, like the crane, had wheedled wine out of him, he had treated Qin Xuan generously.
"Sit, and tell me what happened on Yunxiu Mountain."
Once seated, Qin Xuan recounted the version he had given Liu and Yu.
Old Daoist Wu had cultivated on Guanjiang Mountain, and Qin Xuan knew he stood above the Core Formation stage before being dispatched to oversee Pingyuan Commandery; his horizons were far from ordinary.
Yet even he breathed unevenly upon hearing of the Red Sandalwood Box Scripture, his face showing visible emotion.
"Temple Head, does Guanjiang Mountain possess cultivation methods of this level?"
"Of course."
Old Daoist Wu flicked his whisk, reminiscing. "I personally saw the *Pillow Treasury* in my sect, which is in no way inferior to the Red Sandalwood Box Scripture. Such precious books are known as Daoist canons. Do you know how many Daoist canons Guanjiang Mountain holds?"
Without waiting for Qin Xuan to guess, he answered himself: "A full seven."
"Six of those canons correspond to the six great true disciples. Below the rank of true disciple, there is no possibility of studying them."
Qin Xuan had heard of the true disciples of Guanjiang Mountain.
Pingyuan Commandery was not small—crossed by eight waterways and three rivers, it would take a mortal riding on horseback at least a month to travel from south to north. Yet on the scale of the Eastern Ascendant Continent, it was merely an obscure corner.
The domain governed by Guanjiang Mountain as its Upper Court encompassed numerous commanderies and vassal states, with Pingyuan Commandery being just one among them.
Across such vast lands, only the six individuals with the most exceptional talent and comprehension stood a chance of becoming true disciples.
Thinking of this, Qin Xuan felt that Jinyanshu's leap into that bottomless chasm was not entirely misplaced.
"If there are seven canons, why are there only six true disciples?"
Old Daoist Wu smiled. "The remaining one belongs naturally to the Dao Seed. The method inherited by the Dao Seed originates from the founding patriarch of Guanjiang Mountain. And who do you think he was?"
This was the first time Qin Xuan had heard Old Daoist Wu speak of these matters. Knowing little, he kept silent and simply shook his head.
Reverence showed on Old Daoist Wu's face. "He came from the supreme lineage of our Dao Sect, the Grand Sect of Lingbao among the Four Great Ancestral Courts. He was one of its thirty-six true disciples, granted the highest teachings. He once walked as a guest in the Eight Sceneries Palace, and later proved his Dao at the Dragon Gate."
No wonder Guanjiang Mountain was considered a branch of the Dao Sect's ancestral courts; its founder possessed such origins.
Though distant from him, Qin Xuan felt a strange surge of excitement.
"Do you know why I am telling you this?"
Qin Xuan pondered. "Heaven and earth are vast; one must set high aspirations."
Old Daoist Wu wore the gentle warmth of an elder, his voice affectionate.
"You began refining qi later than most, lacking a measure of Innate Qi. Yet ever since your Uncle Li brought you to call at the mountain, I have watched your diligence. In my youth, I was just like you, cultivating behind closed doors without troubling myself with worldly affairs. In the blink of an eye, a century passed like the snap of fingers.
"Now, seeing a shift in your state of mind as though you have broken through your shackles, I am truly pleased.
"I hope you keep your sights high while planting your feet firmly on the ground."
"Yes, this disciple shall remember," Qin Xuan bowed.
Old Daoist Wu accepted the bow calmly. "Good news has come from Guanjiang Mountain. You may yet have a chance to enter the Upper Court."
Understanding dawned on Qin Xuan; Uncle Li must have been working on his behalf to create the opportunity.
He remained level-headed. "It is still early. My cultivation is meager, far from what is needed to enter the Upper Court."
"No matter. At least the chance exists," Old Daoist Wu smiled, inwardly approving of his composure.
Qin Xuan did not pursue the topic, instead voicing his lingering concern: "That ancient tortoise in the Cold Pool was furious with me. Could it come looking for trouble?"
"No need to worry."
Old Daoist Wu spoke with certainty. "That ancient tortoise has profound cultivation, but it is hiding from a heavenly tribulation. The inversion of the sun and moon over Yunxiu Mountain was none other than the tribulation clouds. It would never dare breach the surface."
So that was it.
Qin Xuan breathed a sigh of relief. That tortoise was far too terrifying and had a foul temper to boot; it was best if it remained trapped below.
Seeing the fatigue on his face, Old Daoist Wu asked a few more questions before sending him back to rest.
Returning to his courtyard, Qin Xuan brewed several bowls of herbal tea and drank them down.
Once his mind and body were thoroughly settled, he sat cross-legged in meditation.
The page of scripture within his mind still glowed faintly. A text from the Nine Nethers held natural allure, yet the warning—'The yin and yang tread different paths; people of the realm of the living cannot cultivate this'—made him hesitate.
'Since I can't cultivate it, there's no harm in satisfying my curiosity.'
With that in mind, he brought out Yuansong Temple's *Lesser Heavenly Circulation Mind Technique* to compare the two, hoping to see the difference between arts of the underworld and those of the living.
He calmed his thoughts and meditated, following the breath guidance of the Taiyin Soul Transformation: "Enter turbidity with clarity; turn blackness into white. Let thought be still water, the heart a clear gem. When grime is shed, radiance appears, reflecting the Great Monad..."
After nearly an hour, Qin Xuan fell into deep thought.
"Is it truly impossible for the living to cultivate, or is my aptitude simply too poor?"
Qin Xuan firmly believed it was the former.
Suddenly, an idea struck him. With a shift of intent, he retrieved the ancient mirror.
Upon looking...
A pale, bright moon floated inside the mirror.
'Wait—the last moon was consumed by the tiger ginger. Where did this one come from?'
Pondering carefully, he remembered the ray of white light that had flown from the stele on the tortoise's back!
Puzzled and amazed, Qin Xuan used the method of scooping the moon from water to draw forth the pale disc. As it touched his grasp, it melted into a cluster of spiritual light.
In the next instant, the unexpected occurred!
The light shot like lightning straight into his mind.
The Taiyin Soul Transformation, which had remained entirely inert no matter how he urged it before, now roared to life within his consciousness:
"Refine the hun-soul to transform the po-soul; let the po-soul turn to qi. Revert the qi to spirit, and let the spirit return to void..."
The supreme mental technique of the Nine Nethers, the Taiyin Soul Transformation, began circulating through his body entirely on its own...
Chapter 13