From the river of time itself, Qing Tong emerged, his gaze sharp. “Why did we not return directly to the Demon Suppressing Tower?” he wondered aloud. “Does Bao Ping Continent have a mountain god who wishes an audience?”

Chen Ping’an shook his head. “I have not been here before. Someone had a whim, and asked me to assist in receiving a guest, and seeing him off from here.”

Qing Tong’s confusion deepened. “Who dares to give you such instructions?”

In the distance, a shimmering reflection hinted at pavilions nestled amongst verdant trees. The faint sound of chimes drifted on the wind.

“We shall wait there,” Chen Ping’an declared, “and see what comes.”

As they approached, a grand shrine revealed itself, its plaque proclaiming it the Temple of the Fen River God. Two ancient locust trees guarded the entrance, overlooking a large pond encircled by weeping willows. Several dappled horses were tied in their shade, and a curtained carriage rested against the temple wall, undoubtedly belonging to a wealthy family’s womenfolk. A wizened coachman, bundled in a thick cotton robe, slumbered, hands tucked into his sleeves.

Qing Tong followed Chen Ping’an into the temple. It being the eve of the New Year, few worshippers were present. Within the outer hall, several children dressed as acolytes squatted, tossing copper coins. They glanced at Chen Ping’an and Qing Tong, but offered no greeting.

Moon gates adorned the sides, providing passage to the shrine’s inner sanctum. Chen Ping’an paused at the hall’s threshold, then turned towards the moon gate. Before a figure could be seen, the tinkling of jade pendants heralded the arrival of two women. One, an elegant matron with a cloud-high coiffure adorned with jeweled hairpins, wore a simple silk gown. Beside her walked a fair maiden, likely her handmaiden, clad in a white blouse and green skirt, her embroidered shoes slightly worn.

An old crone, draped in a bamboo-leaf patterned Taoist robe and holding a jade scepter, completed the trio; she was likely the temple’s caretaker.

Chen Ping’an swiftly stepped aside, granting them passage.

The matron proceeded without a glance. However, as the maiden passed, her gaze flickered towards the strange visitor. He was adorned with a jade hairpin, clothed in a blue robe and cloth shoes, appearing clean enough. A man of thirty summers. However, his “noble bearing and clear spirit” was far from the storybooks told. A poor scholar from a local county, and was without titles. Perhaps here in this temple to pray for a successful examination?

“Who are we waiting for?” Qing Tong murmured. These three were undeniably mortals.

“Lu Chen,” Chen Ping’an replied, his voice a silent whisper.

Qing Tong’s expression darkened. He desired no association with the Third Patriarch of White Jade City. Yet, it seemed unavoidable.

Within the Dream-Liang Kingdom of Bao Ping Continent, not far from the Fen River Shrine, a young Taoist wandered along a mountain path. A lotus crown adorned his head, and several, “borrowed” local gazettes were tucked under his arm. He glanced up at a ferry, swift as a bird in flight.

Skills and vision vary. The Taoist on the ground saw the boat, but those aboard remained blind to the figure below.

The young Taoist, with a light step, danced across the land. There was a feeling of being on “windless water, smooth as glass, unaware of the boat’s movement.”

Pausing briefly, the young Taoist twitched his sleeve. It was as if a thousand invisible threads, distant and near, of the mortal world were attached. These threads, named “causality,” were gently plucked. A faint echo rippled outwards. However, this lotus-crowned Taoist had such skill, seeing through this echo, locating a child in a mountain village and drawing near. He walked towards the child, stopped, and then bowed his head. The child, shy, looked down.

Having departed Yu Zhang Prefecture and bid farewell to Lin Zhengcheng, the Taoist did not return directly to Azure Empyrean. With Senior Brother Yu guarding White Jade City, there was no problem. With his master finishing matters of foreign demons, Lu Chen wished to stay longer in this world. When he was flying through the sky, Lu Chen felt a stirring in his Taoist heart. He found it was near Dream-Liang Kingdom. Something and someone was tugging at his heart. He thus diverted his path towards Yun Xia Mountain, but he did not appear. Soon the Golden Core cultivator Huang Zhonghou would become the master. Yun Xia Mountain had become a proto-sect; they were only short of a Jade Impurity. The old master Cai Jinjian and Huang Zhonghou were both promising. They could become a sect in a century.

A man tried to drown his sorrows in wine. If he had an affinity for Tianlu, he could become a lovestruck one.

He wondered when he would drink with the lovestruck Huang.

Lu Chen looked down at the child. “You’re not shy. Is it because I have a friendly face? Do you speak the language of Dali? Or at least understand it?”

The child nodded. Though the Dream-Liang and Qing Luan Kingdoms had separated from Dali, the Dali language was common. The Dream-Liang King and his ministers did their best to promote the language. Some old tutors complained since they had to become students to the young magistrates.

Lu Chen crouched. “I see you have an unusual bone structure, and the air of a man of great ambition.”

The child blanked.

Lu Chen smiled. “Cultivators are like tea trees. The wild ones are the best, and the planted ones are second.”

In Lu Chen’s view, the cultivators who were like flowers in a garden were inferior to the wild.

Lu Chen asked. “Have you been to school?”

The child shook his head.

Lu Chen pointed at the scribbles on the ground. “Who taught you this?”

The child answered. “When I herded cows, I saw it on the stones.”

Lu Chen smiled. “Do you have cows to herd?”

The child said. “I help the villagers.”

Lu Chen asked. “So you get a meal from them?”

The child gave a bashful smile. His face was tanned, and his body skinny. His old jacket had been patched so much that the cotton inside did not come out.

Lu Chen stood and looked at the mountain. There was no mountain god, nor inscriptions, but it was a treasure. A spring was inside the mountain, never drying during droughts, and never flooding during rains.

An anonymous Taoist cultivated there.

No wonder it was picked out by Mang Huang Taoting, and sensed by the cultivator in Dali. The Daoist air was ancient. A bit of immortality was about to erupt. Thus, whenever the Daoist air moved the roots of the mountain, it would beat like a heart.

Such a “resonance” was small, and long in between. If the young cultivator did not happen to fly by, even a Sky Ascension cultivator would only see it as a normal place after being here for a year.

Lu Chen was surprised, and made some calculations. It was impressive. Although the person who found the path to immortality was of a low level, but when he left the stone room, he was a Golden Core Earth Immortal. He had no teachers, nor any immortal fortune. He was able to cultivate a Golden Core of his own accord. If he was lucky, he could reach great heights.

Cultivators were as numerous as ants. Climbing the mountain was like the carps swimming upstream.

But those that make it to the peak were few.

Lu Chen sighed and made a Taoist salute towards the “cave.”

He could guess who it was.

His salute was not for who he was, but for what he achieved.

*His wise sword cut down demons, and electrocuted them for miles.*

Lu Yan, Taoist name Chunyang, was a Taoist in his middle age.

Here, he formed his Golden Core, and left a manual pointing to the Golden Core.

When he went down the mountain, he held a purple bamboo cane, carried a gourd on his waist, wore a Taoist cap, and carried a sword.

He left behind a prophecy. “One day, a Golden Immortal will appear here. When the bell rings, he will hear of the way to refine the yang spirit.

He met a medicine picker, but when he asked him, he was not answered. The Taoist only said four words: “Thank God!”

The child hesitated, and made a salute.

Lu Chen sighed. “You have an affinity with the Dao, and me as well. No wonder I was drawn here.”

Usually, sects emphasized the cultivation of the man. However, people like Lu Chen emphasized destiny.

The child had no aptitude, but had the roots of wisdom, like a certain man.

As for Lu Chen, he knew Chunyang well, but in White Jade City, Lu Chen could not calculate the Dao of Lu Yan.

Lu Chen squatted again. “What is your name?”

The child answered. “I only have a surname. Ye, as in leaf.”

“A good surname. A leaf in the sea. We all three are destined.”

Lu Chen smiled. “Having only a surname can be a good and bad thing. I know a friend. He is handsome, talented, and good at cultivation. Daoist Sun is the fifth best under the heavens, but he is firmly last in eleventh. He has many Taoist names, even more than Wei She. Guess what his name is?”

The child shook his head.

Lu Chen laughed. “Zhu Dazhuang!”

The child looked at the Taoist laughing and was confused. It was normal to have such a name. At least he had a name.

As for what he did not understand, he thought it was heaven-sent.

Lu Chen finally stopped laughing and picked up a branch.

Lu Chen began to scribble while saying. “Do you know you are an idiot?”

The child looked down, and despaired.

The Taoist comforted him. “How can an idiot know that he is an idiot? Think about it?”

After he was patted on the back, the child seemed to have gained his mind.

Lu Chen tossed the branch. “There are two types of idiots. You were the first type. Muddled and dreaming. You would not know what others knew, so you were called an idiot.”

“There is the second type. The cultivators. To become immortal, they abandoned desire. In my view, they are all doing the same dream. Since it is natural, abandoning desire is wasting heaven’s gifts. Some see it as paying debts before welcoming tribulation.”

Those born with the talent to become immortal did not have emotions.

To say that all cultivators are “idiots,” only Lu Chen could say it.

Lu Chen picked up the branch and wrote two words: “Lang” and “Jue.”

Lu Chen asked. “Which word do you prefer?”

The child looked at them and said. “I like them both.”

So he knew two more words.

Lu Chen said. “Good. Your name is Ye Lang. When you become a cultivator, your Taoist name will be Houjue.”

*All are people not awake from the dreams. See who is the first to awake from it.*

“Sleep and awakening. Different tones, but one word.”

Lu Chen pointed at the Jue. “For this word, we have to kowtow a thousand times to the ancestor.”

Seeing this child, it reminded Lu Chen of the youth in Mud Bottle Lane.

He sighed. “The world is always changing. Nothing is fixed. Only the old trees remain. Have we ever heard of old grass?”

“Grass dies in autumn, and the pine trees will exist forever. It is destiny. This is also destiny. Everyone has their own destiny.”

The child had stars in his eyes. He did not understand anything, but he thought it was the most interesting. “Taoist, have you been a teacher?”

Lu Chen waved his hands. “I’m not good enough. You only freeload in your hometown. I am just a scam artist. How dare I call myself a teacher?”

He liked to visit other places.

Only once did he do so.

Lu Chen had his own definition for “teacher.”

The child asked. “What is your name? Can I find you?”

Lu Chen smiled.

Lu Chen answered. “I have many names. But today, I am Xu Wugui. Today is the new year. May no one be alone. And may there be no darkness in the heavens. And may the world be safe.”

The child was shocked. “Taoist Xu has written books?!”

Lu Chen rubbed his chin and said. “It’s nothing.”

Lu Chen smiled.

“May the heavens strike me.”

Lu Chen smiled. “Look up.”

Lu Chen smiled and said. “Look up.”

As he said this, lightning struck in the sky.

The child jumped, but looked up at him.

Lu Chen put his fingers together and tapped him on the forehead.

He opened the child’s heaven eyes.

From this moment, the orphan became a cultivator.

After he left, if the child studied the talisman, then he would be able to see others’ fate and luck.

Lu Chen twisted his wrists and twisted his fingers like lighting incense.

It was a charm to protect him.

Lu Chen said. “If you leave your hometown, go to a place called Divine Proclamation Sect, and find the Taoist named Qi Zhen. Tell him that Lu Chen told you to come. He will teach you.”

The child nodded, and asked. “Did Taoist change his name?”

Lu Chen stood up and said. “All feasts end. Goodbye.”

The child had many words he wanted to say, but he remembered the etiquette and saluted.

Lu Chen received it, and waved goodbye. He looked around, walked to the village, bent down, grabbed a chicken, stuffed it into his shirt, and ran away.

The child was speechless. Was he an accomplice to the chicken thief?

—

Demon Suppressing Tower, under the Wutong tree.

Qing Tong’s true form was androgynous.

His Yin Soul was the person next to Chen Ping’an.

His Yang Soul was an old man with white hair.

Qing Tong’s Yin Soul was eating noodles in Sui Shan, and went to the Fen River Temple.

Qing Tong noticed that Xiao Mo was looking at the sky.

Qing Tong knew that Xiao Mo did not see him as a friend.

Either a powerful foe was trying to peep into the tower, or Xiao Mo was about to break through.

Xiao Mo was thinking of many things that occurred over ten thousand years, and the images stopped at the Flying Ascension platform. He walked to the platform.

I will swing my sword here and pave a path.

My sword can reach the sky.

Should never have existed in the past.

Xiao Mo then started to emanate an aura.

If he took this path, there would be no return.

If he failed, the consequences would be dire.

That was why Sky Ascension cultivators saw the gap to the fourteenth realm as a chasm.

Otherwise, why would those cultivators close themselves in cultivation forever.

Xiao Mo’s heart was a void. He was no longer wearing the yellow hat.

He had a sword in his hand.

Suddenly, he heard a voice in his heart. “Friend Xizhu, you’re too late. You have to find another path.”

“Someone did it before you. Such a shame.”

Xiao Mo knew who it was, but still asked two questions.

“Is he already in the fourteenth realm?”

“Is he a friend of our young master?”

If he was not a friend.

Xiao Mo would not care if he was half a foot into the fourteenth realm.

If he was, Xiao Mo would fight him.

The person said. “He is already in the fourteenth realm. Only three people know. And he is friends with Chen Ping’an. And likes to call him Chen Friend Chen.”

Xiao Mo thanked him.

Since Sun Daochang of Xuantu Temple had taken it, Xiao Mo would have to change paths.

Xiao Mo sighed and forcibly suppressed his aura, and retreated from his small world.

Xiao Mo paled and swallowed blood.

Qing Tong looked horrified and asked. “What happened?!”

Xiao Mo said. “The Sage is watching us.”

No wonder he felt something was wrong.

The world was his dojo.

The Ancient Heavenly Court had five supremes, who were all fifteenth realm cultivators.

From the War of Water and Fire, their golden bodies were damaged.

The traitor caused the armored one to collapse.

But those who witnessed the battle knew that the only variable was…

The whereabouts of the Heavenly Emperor.

During the war, the Heavenly Emperor was never seen.

It was rumored that his realm was above fifteenth.