Jiang Tao soon brought up the case of the elixir of immortality.
"Aside from the Jeweled Tree King, no vassal demon king has ever drawn as much attention upon entering Lingxu City as the Chiyan Demon King."
Gao Jilin corrected him, "The one who came is the Chiyan Crown Prince, not the ruler."
"Well, they're father and son anyway. The crown prince came on behalf of his sovereign, didn't he?" Jiang Tao straightened his collar. "They're demanding an explanation from the Beijia Emperor, no matter what.
"I heard he also has a subordinate named He who stole quite a bit of the spotlight this time around." His tone was thick with envy. "Everyone says this man's cultivation is absurdly high—even Fan Sheng, deputy commander of the Tongxin Guard, fell by his hand!"
He Lingchuan blinked. "Oh? Is this man that famous?"
"Famous?!" Jiang Tao exclaimed. "Whenever anyone talks about the elixir case, his name always comes up. Hey, he shares your surname!"
He Lingchuan maintained his smile. "Perhaps our families were one and the same five hundred years ago."
Beside them, Old Ge rolled his eyes again.
Yet He Lingchuan had come to a sudden realization:
His self-perception was flawed.
What kind of place was Lingxu City? Even if you were an outstanding prodigy of your own region, arriving in this six-hundred-year-old imperial capital was like a drop of water falling into the sea—silent, without stirring the slightest ripple.
To make a name for oneself in Lingxu City meant you were already a figure of some consequence.
No wonder Li Qingge had tried so hard to win him over. No wonder Fang Canran, chief steward of Dun Garden, had sent him an invitation. And no wonder the southern city government office had treated him with nothing but deference from the start.
He had assumed they were merely showing courtesy out of respect for the Chiyan Crown Prince.
In truth, the strong naturally commanded a status that matched their might.
The respect of others was something he had rightfully earned.
It was only because he was constantly dealing with the upper echelons of power in Lingxu City—figures like Fu Shanyue, the Minister of Agriculture, and the Zhongsun clan—and constantly facing powerhouses on the level of Fan Sheng and Bai Ziqi, that he had failed to realize he was already miles ahead of ordinary mortals.
He needed to adjust his mindset.
Tip-toeing at every step, always seeking safety, perfection, and a flawless facade—how did that align with the mental mantra of the Wave Slash he practiced?
When it was time to charge straight into hardship, one had to charge.
When it was time to make bold, sweeping strides, shrinking back was the last thing one should do!
Gao Jilin spoke up again. "The posthouse where they were staying was bombed, too. In all these years, I've never heard of such a thing happening before."
Jiang Tao grinned. "Who knows? Maybe the Chiyan people did it themselves."
Old Ge glanced at He Lingchuan, then back at Jiang Tao, unable to hold his tongue. "Do you have proof?"
Jiang Tao chuckled. "If I had proof, I wouldn't have said 'who knows.'"
"Then why would they bomb themselves just for kicks?"
"To strike first and gain the upper hand, of course," Jiang Tao said as if it were obvious. "Everyone wants to move against them. If they hit themselves first, how could anyone else shamelessly target them?"
Old Ge stole another glance at He Lingchuan, only to find him looking utterly indifferent, as if they weren't talking about him at all.
He Lingchuan truly didn't care. If Jiang Tao could think of that angle, others certainly could as well; Lingxu City was never short of clever people.
Yet that was not the point.
The point was that as long as no one caught any hard evidence, they could never openly accuse the Chiyan delegation. The authorities still had to faithfully hunt down the culprit, and the Emperor still had to find a way to appease Fu Shanyue.
He Lingchuan closed his eyes and let out a long breath.
However, Gao Jilin misunderstood his gesture and promptly said to Jiang Tao, "You've been chattering the whole way. Give your mouth a rest. Let Master Ge tell us about the sights."
The other passengers had long grown impatient and chimed in with agreement.
They had paid good money to see the scenery and listen to the guide, not to listen to Jiang Tao shooting the breeze.
Finally getting his turn, Old Ge took a sip of water and stood up. "Everyone, look to your left. That small peak beneath the clouds is known as 'Fairy Peak.' Legend has it that in ancient times, an immortal maiden emerged from her bath here, only to be ambushed by a demon beast..."
He Lingchuan couldn't help chiming in, "Old Ge, this intro of yours is getting a bit racy."
"What racy?" Old Ge said lazily. "Fine, I'll rephrase it: the fairy maiden was washing her feet here!"
Jiang Tao shook his head repeatedly. "Tasteless, far too tasteless! You've ruined the mood—bathing was much better!"
...
By the time Old Ge finished his second cup of water to moisten his throat, the deer cart finally arrived at their destination—
Mount Xu.
This was the tallest mountain range in the outskirts of Lingxu City. Leaving through the city's north gate, one could immediately see wondrous peaks piercing the sky, their summits veiled in drifting white clouds.
Mount Xu was the former dwelling of immortals.
After all, immortals loved residing atop soaring summits, gazing down upon all living beings.
However, the terrain around Lingxu City was rather unique. Mount Xu's altitude fell far short of Wind Demon Mountain on the Gale Tundra; that place boasted sweeping, majestic ranges, bone-scraping astral winds, and eternal snows that never melted.
Mount Xu, on the other hand, had only its highest peak crowned in white throughout the four seasons. The other summits rose a mere four to five hundred meters, changing their verdant mantles all year round.
Though not exceedingly high, it was replete with verdant peaks, running streams, soaring birds, and secluded ravines—possessing every standard feature expected of an ancient immortal dwelling.
Because it was relatively low, the scenic sights here were exceptionally elegant. The tourist paths had been widened, and precarious sections were equipped with plank walkways and iron chains, making the climb quite effortless.
He Lingchuan pointed at the path leading up the mountain. "The original mountain roads of Mount Xu weren't like this, were they?"
"Of course not," Old Ge explained. "During the Dahuan Sect era, the mountain roads were slick, steep, and narrow. People often slipped and fell; it was very hazardous. Immortals had the means to soar high and travel through the air, so why would they bother carving out easy roads?"
*Yet the immortal sect still needed commoners to hike up and serve them, didn't they?* He Lingchuan thought to himself, though he did not voice the question aloud.
"What about during the Middle Ancient Era?" At that time, immortals were gradually losing their ability to fly.
"After the Middle Ancient Era, the Dahuan Sect also found climbing up and down terribly inconvenient, so they relocated to the ground. That became the predecessor of today's Lingxu City," Old Ge said. "That area was originally the Dahuan Sect's spirit fields."
Gao Jilin asked, "I heard that spirit fields are usually kept on high mountains so medicinal herbs can absorb more spiritual energy."
The Piaomiao Sect, for instance, had established its spirit fields directly upon the cloud-piercing heights of Wind Demon Mountain.
"That is true. But Mount Xu possesses a Spirit Gathering Grand Formation, capable of continuously drawing nearby spiritual energy for its own use, so they weren't restricted by elevation. Wouldn't planting medicinal herbs on flat ground make transportation far more convenient?"
He Lingchuan's interest was piqued. "Even during the Dahuan Sect era, Mount Xu already utilized a Spirit Gathering Grand Formation?"
The last time he had heard that term was from the mouth of Xiang Yan, the retired Chiyan official.
"Naturally. The methods of the ancient immortals are beyond anything people today can imagine."
The group took the standard route, ascending first via Yaoguang Peak. They strolled and took in the sights as they went, sometimes crossing rope bridges and sometimes following secluded footpaths, steadily making their way toward the other peaks.
The trails bustled with visitors, every stone bench occupied by resting travelers. As they walked, they drifted deeper into the white clouds.
A mountain needed no great height to be famous; it only needed the presence of immortals. Mount Xu was indeed the most popular tourist destination around Lingxu City.
The mountain gate of the Dahuan Sect was immensely grand, carved entirely from white jade. It was said that in former times, when mortals came to pay homage to the immortals, they took one step and performed one full kowtow all the way from this gate to the Zijin Hall.
He Lingchuan looked up toward the summit. While it wasn't exceedingly high, kowtowing all the way to the top would surely leave a person's forehead battered and bleeding.
Beside the mountain gate stood a colossal black stele detailing the past and present of the sect.
The inscription was not written in the ancient immortal language, as it had been erected later by Beijia to serve as a guide for all visiting sightseers.
He Lingchuan immediately spotted a map of Mount Xu, which clearly delineated the peaks, the distribution of scenic spots, and several touring routes. It was remarkably thoughtful.
Yet after a few glances, he uttered a soft sound of surprise.
"These main peaks aren't the ones from the Dahuan Sect era, are they?"
"No, they aren't," Old Ge answered. "During the reign of the previous Emperor, His Majesty personally oversaw the reconstruction of Mount Xu and redesignated the nine main peaks."
"Tianji Peak, Tianxuan Peak... and Dongming Peak, Yinyuan Peak!" Jiang Tao gasped. "Aren't these the nine stars of the Northern Dipper?"
"Precisely," Old Ge nodded. "They correspond to the nine stars in the heavens, down to the exact relative positions."
*The Northern Dipper?* He Lingchuan studied the map as well. Just as Xiang Yan had said, the peaks on earth mirrored the constellations above.
Could it really be such a coincidence that the arrangement and positions of the peaks on the ground matched the heavenly Northern Dipper so perfectly?
Carrying this question, He Lingchuan continued reading the inscription on the stele.
Because he harbored certain thoughts regarding Mount Xu, he refused to overlook the slightest clue.
The colossal stele recorded that six hundred and thirty-two years ago, the Dahuan Sect had been the northern demon kingdom's most formidable rival.
At the time, the northern demon kingdom had already absorbed five states and possessed seven demon kings, rising to become the new hegemon of this land.
Yet the Dahuan Sect had remained complacent, assuming the northern demon kingdom would not dare encroach upon its territory and would instead pick off smaller states first.
Contrary to expectations, the northern demon kingdom did not strike the soft eggs; it chose to hammer the hardest rock first.
Lulled into negligence, the Dahuan Sect only came to its senses when the demon armies silently massed beneath its mountain gates.
Yet it was already too late.
That battle raged for ten days and ten nights, plunging heaven and earth into darkness.
When the eleventh dawn arrived, the northern demon kingdom finally claimed ultimate victory.
From that point on, Mount Xu changed masters, and Beijia had its capital.
It was a brief and simple inscription, yet between the lines, He Lingchuan could sense a chilling murderous intent.
Given the temperament of the northern demon kingdom, that surprise assault on the Dahuan Sect must have produced mountains of corpses and seas of blood, shattering the very foundations of the immortal sect. Only such devastation could have caused this proud, thousand-year-old titan to collapse overnight, never to recover its former glory.
Six hundred and thirty-two years ago, even without living immortals presiding over it, the Dahuan Sect was far beyond a declining Daoist order like the Piaomiao Sect.
Back then, the northern demon kingdom had yet to reach the zenith of its power; its national strength and martial might had surely been inferior to later generations. That was precisely why the Dahuan Sect had been so confident the kingdom would not dare launch a direct assault.
Unfortunately, they had misjudged the northern demon kingdom.
He Lingchuan rested his palm against the stone stele, feeling an icy chill seep into his hand.
"The stele doesn't say how many people died in that epochal battle, does it?"
"No one knows," Old Ge said, shaking his head. "It was war. When is there war without casualties?"
He Lingchuan said solemnly, "It was a war of total extermination."
To make an illustrious, mighty sect crumble entirely within days, unable to mount any meaningful resistance ever again, and to occupy its lands without fearing retribution—what was the best way?
It was to slaughter every disciple of the order.
It was to uproot its heritage down to the very core.
Once the people were gone, where would any hope of resurgence come from?
Judging from the northern demon kingdom's methods in dealing with the Yuan Kingdom and Panlong City, this was very likely what had occurred.
He Lingchuan looked up at the colossal black stele. It was as though the glint of blades, the ferocious sneers, and the mournful wails flashed before his eyes, only to be casually buried in the deepest depths of history.
Gao Jilin said softly, "Regarding the Battle of Mount Xu, I once read a passage in the history books."
"What did it say?"
"It was horrific."
Chapter 575