From the alabaster heights of Jade Capital to the emerald halls of Azure Cloud Tower, nestled within the mists of Mount Tranquility’s True Temple, existed a recluse. A young man, gaunt and wan, with hollow cheeks and a visage etched with worry, sat in solemn contemplation.

Perched upon the windswept peak, he gazed down at a long, clay tablet. Upon its surface, a cryptic prophecy was inscribed, seemingly hammered into the clay with countless iron nails. His hands, from whence this inscription was wrought, were a bloody ruin. Truly, a work set in stone, or rather, *nailed to the board.*

He had recently received a divinely bizarre omen, its verse both promising and perilous.

*”When the Way wanes three centuries hence, a sovereign shall arise.”*

Alas, despite his exhaustive and agonizing calculations, the pronoun “the” refused to yield to a surname.

Who was this foretold figure? What was his name? What was his past? Which path would he tread? Would he be a harbinger of chaos, a rogue in times of turmoil, or a paragon to lead an era of peace?

Was the long-tranquil Azure World destined for a cataclysm unseen in millennia, a surge of discord that this individual would quell in five centuries hence? Or would his very emergence spark a half-millennium of strife?

Was he a favored disciple of the Mountain Azure Dao Ancestor, a contingency planned long ago by the Daoist Lu Chen?

Or would the Grand Hierophant, after five hundred years, return to Jade Capital to quell the storm?

Or perhaps the ghastly cultivator Xu Juan from the Great Tide Sect?

Or was it Wang Yuanlu, a rising star, and the last of the Yongzhou Rice Thieves lineage, destined to unite their disparate arts?

He gazed at the heavens, knowing he could not leave. For to step beyond this place would shatter the tapestry of fate, rendering all divination naught but whispers on the wind.

He sighed, then began to pluck the iron nails from the tablet, placing them into a cotton pouch at his hip. His fingers, already a bloody mess, now revealed bone, yet he betrayed no discomfort.

Beyond this sacred ground, such injuries would be but a trifle. But here, within the Smokeshroud Grotto of the Mount Tranquility Temple, rank meant nothing. Dao Heart or no, cultivation was useless, and pain was very real. A staff to the ribs would elicit a yelp from even the most stoic sage. Only recently, a man had been stabbed, his entrails spilling onto the ground, and died swiftly, despite being a master of incantations before entering this place.

This man, who claimed several peaks as his own, was named Zhang Feng Hai, once destined to be the undisputed lord of Jade Canopy City.

His two elder brothers, Guo Jie and Shao Xiang, had accepted this as inevitable, as had Zhang Feng Hai himself. Indeed, so had the entirety of Jade Capital, and perhaps the Azure World beyond.

A Flight Ascension Realm at ninety years of age.

Whispers claimed that the old lord of Jade Canopy City had deliberately falsified his disciple’s age, that Zhang Feng Hai had broken the Immortal Barrier at eighty-one.

Zhang Feng Hai was, without doubt, a master of all Daoist arts. Incantations, alchemy, formations, calculations—he excelled in every discipline. In the Five Cities and Twelve Towers of Jade Capital, he was exceptional.

Furthermore, had he not been under his master’s orders to delay his ascent, he would have been a Flight Ascension cultivator by forty, maybe fifty, years of age.

Save for his lack of dedication to the sword, Zhang Feng Hai’s path had been flawless.

But fate had intervened, in the guise of the Second Hierophant Yu Dou, and Zhang Feng Hai, who swore to renounce his Daoist ties to Jade Capital, found himself unable to leave by his own strength.

He was imprisoned within the Smokeshroud Grotto, a place for containing powerful figures. Almost eight centuries had passed since his confinement began.

It was a fabled purgatory, akin to the Hall of Merit of Confucian Temples, or the Living Burial Monasteries of the Western Buddhist Kingdoms.

Here, denied the Way, Zhang Feng Hai focused on what the Way was *not*. He held that the way to know the true Dao, was to know all other ways were false.

Beyond this, minor pursuits included developing observation techniques combined with conjecture to craft a separate, imaginary body, tempered physically, initiating the Great Incantation, construction, and dividing/recombining his three souls.

Some might suggest that Yu Dou had intended this to temper Zhang Feng Hai, to humble this “Little Hierophant” so he might focus on cultivation, reach the Fourteenth Realm, and reconcile with his captor. But that would underestimate the Dao Heart of the truly invincible.

Yu Dou would never stoop so low.

And Zhang Feng Hai was grateful for it.

He looked out, a faint smile playing on his lips. At least he had given up drinking. It was easy to abstain when there was no drink.

He was not the only one to languish and die here, once called the “Little Hierophant of Jade Capital”. Two former deputies of Jade Capital’s Twelve Towers, once lovers, had perished here. For violating the Golden Edicts of Jade Capital, they had been brought here by the Yellow Realm Head for penance. Among the three thousand Daoists journeying to the Colorful Heavens was a leader of the incantation ancestral court, the Azure Word Palace, a Nascent Soul named Nanshan. With Mount Harvesting, the top sects were like Twin Capitals Mountain and Great Tide Sect, named You Ran, the pair were born the same month and day. Some say the moment was exact. Fate itself had smiled on them. In Yin Province, the capital could have joined with Xu Juan. Why not them in this life?

Within Smokeshroud Grotto, the Great Dao pressed down on everyone. No matter their cultivation outside, all were brought to No Realm, lacking even the slightest wisp of spiritual energy, unable to cultivate. Even their bodies, once strengthened by Qi, reverted to the frailty of mortals. Excepting, strangely, one’s natural lifespan. Time flowed differently here. Bodies decayed, but slowly.

The Dao Ancestor’s handiwork, undoubtedly.

Zhang Feng Hai rose to his feet. After nearly eight centuries, he kept to his small corner, with its sea of Shepherd’s Purse spreading before him.

An old man tended to a waterwheel by the river, claiming to “help,” but in truth seeking the protection of Zhang Feng Hai, lest he be subject to daily torments.

The old man, who had long forgotten how many years he had been here, suffered cracked, bloody hands each winter.

Recently, he had unearthed a broken sword tip while tilling the soil and presented it to Zhang Feng Hai as a form of rent.

But Zhang Feng Hai had failed to find the rest of the blade. Such things depended on fate.

Zhang Feng Hai had later learned that upon finding the sword tip, the old man had clutched the relic in his earth-stained hands, sat upon the furrow, and recited an ancient verse. He could not remember the words and would strike his head. When he would remember a part, he would begin again. The old man could never remember the whole poem and wept aloud, as if he were being led like a dog on a leash.

The old man had once been a swordsman.

Zhang Feng Hai had not asked for the poem’s name.

Zhang Feng Hai knew.

A lithe, dark-skinned woman approached. It was she who accompanied the elder to meet Zhang Feng Hai. She raised her hand and chased away butterflies.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

Though dressed in homespun and straw shoes, the butterflies fluttered and clung to her hair.

Were it not for the constant labor, her skin would have been fairer, her beauty more profound.

She had asked to enter the Smokeshroud Grotto. At first, Jade Capital ignored her. Then, she did a forbidden act and was cast into the place.

Her name was Shi Xing Yuan, a Daoist of the Soul Staff sect.

She sought someone, and succeeded, but did not succeed. For the one she sought was a dry corpse.

She buried him and accepted what had happened. She would reside here. For self-preservation, she made a deal with Zhang Feng Hai and became a servant.

In this place, the old, women, and weak all meet terrible ends.

To live, you must sacrifice decency.

Zhang Feng Hai remained impassive.

Shi Xing Yuan changed the subject and pointed at the wheat. “It looks like we’ll have a better harvest than usual, at least thirty percent.”

Zhang Feng Hai smiled.

Two masters, smiling at the yield.

That could never happen on the outside.

Besides her, were many strange folk.

A wizened man with ancient swords thrust through his body lived by unknown means and outlived his “younger” successors.

People called him an “old beast.” Some say he was of the beast clans. He was powerful and could fight. He could kill with a sword and hang up the bodies to eat as jerky.

There was a young man who was a founder of the Rice Thief lineage. He loved to make porcelain and would be beaten up by others. He would weep, then would make more porcelain.

One man lived by the river and fished. His group turned into a village with family shrines.

A fox-like woman had recently been cast here. She was a fighter of the Zhuzhou region. In Green Plume, she was famous. When she came here, her strength was no different than commoners. She used skills that no one else did and could kill.

A man with matted hair had been a wordsmith, rewriting the texts in Daoist temples. There was a broken monk called Name Monk.

There was a man who was always naked. He had followers. He had only been an Upper Jade Realm in the past, and came here thinking it was an honor. The best he could say for himself was that he had chased Zhu, number eleven in the world, but that wasn’t something to be proud of.

In this place, all that you were was as nothing.

Some liked to collect treasures, but they were only good for show. Could they be taken outside?

In this place, people fight and scheme. Those who can’t fight will try to train, but can never be anything more than amateurs.

Some Daoists tried to trouble Zhang Feng Hai, but they died.

Even the fox woman didn’t try to approach him.

Shi Xing Yuan sat on a rock. “I think you’re the only one who can leave here alive.”

Zhang Feng Hai didn’t like to talk.

She continued, “It’s not your position. It’s that your heart is most attuned to the heavens.”

Zhang Feng Hai, “If I didn’t know how to fight, I would always be in pain.”

Shi Xing Yuan didn’t react. She was used to such talk.

She wrapped her hands behind her head. “What do you want to do if you leave? Fight Yu Dou?”

Zhang Feng Hai almost retorted, but held back.

She turned. “Tell me.”

Zhang Feng Hai, “I’d take a bath, put on clean clothes, and it would be the middle of winter. I’d dig for bamboo shoots, because winter bamboo is better than spring bamboo. Then, I’d drink homemade plum wine. I’d get drunk, sleep, and no one would bother me.”

She swallowed. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Zhang Feng Hai, “I’ve heard that you lust for my body, but is it true?”

Shi Xing Yuan, “I’ll tear his mouth when I go down the mountain.”

Zhang Feng Hai, “He doesn’t care. Before you got here, he was fed stool. He’s not scared.”

Shi Xing Yuan trailed off.

Zhang Feng Hai was indifferent.

Shi Xing Yuan, “Zhang Feng Hai, why don’t you set rules for all of us?”

Zhang Feng Hai, “And then what?”

Shi Xing Yuan didn’t answer.

Many here become like caged beasts. Some are tormented to death, and most go mad.

Suicide doesn’t work here, and you always come back.

Some try to get others to kill them, but it doesn’t work.

It was as if a god was watching over everyone.

Those who want to die can’t, and those who want to live can’t always.

This was the Purgatory, to destroy one’s dignity and Dao Heart.

There were bones, and they belonged to cultivators of the past.

Some were Daoists of Jade Capital, and some were from all fifteen of the provinces.

There were about three hundred and eighty living people now, and many were born here.

There were enough people to occupy the area, and it would have been much worse if they weren’t spread apart from each other.

Shi Xing Yuan picked up a stone and threw it off the cliff. “I’m not old enough, but I heard the story of how Yu Dou made a name for himself. Have you seen documents in Jade Canopy City?”

“I’ve seen all the books. I read them all before I was thirty.

Zhang Feng Hai shook his head. He picked up dirt and applied it to his wounds. “But I’ve seen it. I can move my spirit safely and watched the entire battle.”

Long ago, there were fifteen provinces.

Yu Dou led the Daoists of Jade Capital and gathered the Daoists of the land to the battlefield.

The scale was great and caused the province to sink.

It was said, “When a province loses the Way, it will sink.”

Later, an outsider named Lu Chen came and became a Daoist of Jade Capital. Afterward, he founded the Southern Chinese City.

Zhang Feng Hai explained the war. “It was because one was everyone. It was because a demon from outside the heavens had entered the land. A province and all those inside were it.”

Shi Xing Yuan was shocked. “What of the Ancestor?”

Zhang Feng Hai, “He had gone outside.”

Shi Xing Yuan, “I’m so strong.”

Zhang Feng Hai saluted. “Welcome, Dao Ancestor.”

A boy Daoist appeared.

“Zhang Feng Hai, go to the Three Teachings Debate. If you win, you can leave Jade Capital. If you lose, I get to eat your bamboo stew.”

Zhang Feng Hai, “Understood.”

Shi Xing Yuan looked at the boy and couldn’t speak.

The Ancestor, “Enough, Lv Bixia. Join Zhang Feng Hai and Shi Xing Yuan, and you can be free.”

Shi Xing Yuan felt pain. After a moment, a glint was in her eye. “What’s the price?”

The Ancestor, “Who are you talking to?”

A monk who wanted to be a celestial was ejected and lay sprawled on the ground.

Zhang Feng Hai and Shi Xing Yuan stood by Lv Bixia.

The demon, “You’re stronger.”

The Ancestor squatted and turned over the clay tablet. “Too late again.”

The demon mocked, “Last time, it was me. This time, you were cheated. I’ll have to figure it out.”

Not, “When the Way wanes three centuries hence, a sovereign shall arise.”

But, “When the Way wanes five centuries hence, a Chen sovereign shall arise.”

Zhang Feng Hai was too young. He had to improve.

The Ancestor, “Is it funny?”

The demon became cautious, then laughed wildly, and then was silent. “It’s hard to reach the Way. Are you going to break the agreement and act? Or are you going to scatter the Dao and do nothing?”

The Ancestor, “Yu Dou has seen big things.”

The demon, “Indeed.”

What if he made an enemy of the world? Yu Dou sat at a chess board and placed a black piece.

————

In Yingchuan, there was the Old Realm Dao temple. It was on a mound. The recent snow had collapsed the houses.

It wasn’t special.

There was only one full Daoist called Hong Miao. He was also a stranger. Three hundred years ago, all the Daoists were strangers. This was a bad place to cultivate. If you want to be a Daoist, you need strength, wealth, and a good family.

It was also hard to be a scholar here.

The current Daoist Hong Miao was a candidate Daoist. He was from elsewhere. The old people of the temple had come to call him that.

The “old people” of the temple were people without Dao papers.

In the land, the temples are built by officials and compete on merit.

The temples had shrines, priests, and offerings. The temples are all open to anyone.

This day, Hong Miao was strolling the mountain.

It was harder than reaching heaven to be a Daoist here.

The temple was small and didn’t have a second floor.

There were a thousand ways to be rich, and only one to be poor.

There were three official temples, and the location was bad. It was because a neighboring temple had a priest of great virtue.

Hong Miao wanted to build a shrine to wealth.

The people here had heard that the old priest wanted to build such a thing.

There were six “permanent Daoists,” including the visiting Liu Fang.

Hong Miao entered the temple and saw that only Chang Geng was working. The others never got up early. The man had previously rung the bell. The man swept the temple and greeted the Daoist. The man was old and poor and had given the temple money, which had entitled him to stay here.

Hong Miao nodded and went to the main hall. Chang Geng grinned and asked, “Are you waiting for someone?”

Hong Miao laughed and began his routine. Chang Geng stood aside. Three young men came out. They shivered and breathed heavily. They left. There were a few vegetable gardens on the mountain. The county office had given the temple land because it didn’t want to let the place go out of business.

The last to leave was the boy named Chen Cong.

When Hong Miao finished, Chen Cong called him Priest Hong.

Hong Miao nodded to the old man.

There was the daily lesson where the youths would sleep.

Except for Chen Cong, the names of the others were Ma Zhong, Tu Gao, and Lin Shu.

Ma Zhong was related to Liu Fang and was always asking about things. Hong Miao brushed him off.

Lin Shu had money and was always flaunting it.

Tu Gao had entered the temple on merit and believed that he was someone important.

Ma Zhong would have strange ideas.

He believed that the priest was a master martial artist.

Hong Miao taught them breathing exercises.

Ma Zhong lived in his own world. Lin Shu was always smiling, and Tu Gao liked to put on airs for Chen Cong.

After fifteen years of serving, the Daoists could take an exam and get a paper to work at an office.

This would be a watershed.

Ma Zhong and Lin Shu were waiting for it.

They could work in the public office.

When the morning lesson was over, they would eat. The priest would take a chopstick, and then they would snatch everything.

Afterward, there was another lesson.

Sometimes Tu Gao would read the books that Hong Miao had. There were stamps on them from the former owner. He wanted to tear them up.

The wind blew.

Last night, it had snowed, and there was a river that Chen Cong would visit.

Today, the river was frozen. The boy wore leather boots and jumped up and down.

The boy had a good memory.

He had read the books here and knew many things.

The boy found himself in the conclusion that he was a genius of the Dao!

Chen Cong grinned and grabbed snow, putting it on his face.

Recently, there had been a demon in the capital, and the court had sent Daoists. Hong Miao had aged overnight. Afterward, he had been waiting for people. Then, two people had come to the temple, a man and a woman, but neither wore Daoist robes.

They sat under the eaves in a row.

The man looked at Tu Gao, and the woman looked at everyone, stopping briefly at Ma Zhong, but nothing much.

They shook their heads at Hong Miao.

It was hard to cook without rice, and the youths were the best he could find. Whether they were offered or chosen, there were no surprises. It was why Liu Fang and Chang Geng could enter at will.

What the youths didn’t know was that to be the head of an official temple, unless one had knowledge, one had to be Upper Cave. Hong Miao was good at cultivation, but not learning. That was why he had been unable to rise. Hong Miao had been given the chance because he was in the Viewing Sea Realm.

Ma Zhong wasn’t completely wrong and had guessed correctly.

To stop the demon, the old Daoist had been injured.

Hong Miao was going to give the youths what he had in mind.

Ma Zhong had the best potential, but still wasn’t good.

Lin Shu was there for fun. The temple’s business relied on his money. Hong Miao had refined all that he had in the past.

Tu Gao had strength and might enter with reading.

As for Chen Cong, he had a good memory and might enter by taking the exam.

The two unusual folk of Jianghu were friends from the capital.

Song Tuo was a fifth-step fighter who could rise to the sixth step. If he did, he could take on a government position. It was said that he was friends with someone in Crow Mountain.

In Ruozhou, having friends at Crow Mountain was a matter of importance to fighters and monks.

The young woman Xiu Tan Sou was a Breath Refiner, who was still early Cave Realm.

It was something that couldn’t be compared to genius, for it would be discouraging.

Tan Sou had a family altar. She wasn’t supported, but she wasn’t forbidden either.

Hong Miao said, “It’s not spring, or I could have stopped the Dragon Gate demon.

The old Daoist pulled out money and said, “The battle was a waste.”

These were treasures given by the court.

Song Tuo said, “Hong, I can recommend you to White Rain, I’m friends with Liu Xi.”

Hong Miao waved his hand. “I can’t hurt your relationship with him.”

Hong Miao sighed. “The court will send people to investigate. Then, I’ll be returning home. I thought I could help Yingchuan, but I failed. Now, I hope that the next one can. All that I want is peace of mind. I just wonder if I can see it happen before I close my eyes.”

Hong Miao wanted to get credit for a new Daoist.

All those that had wanted to be in this position had wanted the same.

An injury to one’s power had far-reaching consequences, and life was shortened.

Hong Miao wouldn’t be able to live off the pill alone, and he would need to buy some. He didn’t care about money.

Song Tuo, “Good hearts have good results.”

Hong Miao nodded.

The old priest had ambitions, and had wanted to be known.

The most that he could hope for was to dream of Jade Capital.

Tan Sou said, “Hong Daoist, you could come to my home and be a guest. I need someone to work.”

Hong Miao was Upper Cave and knew many people.

The family could pay him and give him some pills.

The old priest waved his hand. “Why should we? If I am free, I’ll visit and drink for free. We’ll only cause trouble.”

Tan Sou swallowed what she was going to say.

Hong Miao looked outside. “They’re here.”

Chen Cong, sitting down, opened his eyes.

Ma Zhong was eavesdropping and couldn’t hear anything.

Three figures stopped and came up the mountain on foot, out of respect for Jade Capital.

Ma Zhong stood up, afraid.

Tu Gao nudged Chen Cong and pointed.

Chen Cong looked at Tu Gao and then was shocked and filled with envy, inferiority, and hope.

The three Daoists were a young man with a sword, an old man with a gourd, and a young woman.

They were confused as to why there was a demon in the area, and it was a bad omen.

They examined it closely. Three of them came, and the young priest rose to the wind, holding a mirror. He looked all over the temple. Hong Miao was angry, but didn’t say anything.

In the old Daoist’s room, the Daoists recorded what was said and left, going off on the wind.

They left a paper for Hong Miao, and he was no longer the priest.

Afterward, the priest asked Chang Geng to take the books. The priest told them to wait, because there were a few talismans around that would keep out evil.

The temple was nervous. Liu Fang heard and thought that if a new Daoist was coming. He ran off the mountain, determined not to come back for months.

Behind the temple was a dry well that had leaves and snow.

Lin Shu said it was haunted, and Hong Miao scolded him.

Tu Gao found Ma Zhong, and it was like he had changed. He was doing all the work and always left at night. Even Lin Shu noticed. Chen Cong also thought it was strange. He told Tu Gao that they should check at night, but Chen Cong slept like a pig. He heard Ma Zhong, but was too afraid.

Inside the well was a painting of a woman in red.

That was why it had been missed by the mirror. It had been hot in the sunlight, and she couldn’t attack. She planned to stay here for a long time.

In the capital, a priest was watching the sky and said that the coast must be reported. Even to the emperor.

The reason was that the mountains were a Daoist relic.

It had to be at least an immortal.

He couldn’t report this to Jade Capital, for it would become a big thing. The small matter would become enormous, and they would all pay.

If the Jade Capital leader was here, it would be different.

He was afraid that Yu would take over everything.

Since it wasn’t that serious, they should let the demon do its work.

On the mountain, Xin Gu stopped and turned.

There was a lot of strange things.

There was also an appearance by Lin Jiangxian, and previously a seer had vomited blood and died in Longzhou…

Outside Yinchuan County, on Lingjing Mountain, late at night, Ma Zhong went to the well, jumped down, and saw the painting.

Lin Shu was sleeping soundly.

Tu Gao tried to stop, and wondered if he should tell Hong Miao, but didn’t know where to find him.

Chen Cong was sleeping by the window and holding a piece of porcelain.

He was dreaming and smiling.

He was thinking, “The Way lies with me and it’s virtue.”

“I can’t leave from the darkness.”

May all misfortune go, so I can be at ease.

Perform good deeds, and do no evil. Seek spring in snow.

Ma Zhong was possessed.

On the border of Southern River was a hidden mountain that was a Daoist trace.

Perhaps a hermit could not suppress his Dao Qi.

Because it was close to the border, the country was worried. They couldn’t talk. The leader of the Dao temple hadn’t come, and they were worried. The temple was small and had no business. They shouldn’t bring Jade Capital’s attention. If Lin were in charge, it would be different. Lin might come to Southern River.

He had been a monk for hundreds of years and had never gone to Jade Capital. He had only seen an official of the celestial at a distance and had been afraid to talk.

Right now, Yu was in charge.

If it wasn’t serious, and there was only a demon, they should just catch the demon.

In the county, on the mountain, late at night, Ma Zhong went to the well.

Lin Shu was asleep.

Tu Gao tried to find Ma Zhong.

The boy, Chen Cong, had a piece of porcelain and was muttering.

“The Way lies with me.”

“I can’t leave.”

Good and bad were gone, and he was free.

Do good and not bad. Seek spring in the snow.