Chapter 269: Expounding the Dao

Three days later, before the vast and complex inter-domain teleportation array of the Ninth Dao Institute, spiritual light surged.

Wang Ping, clad in a green robe, stood still in the array; as the steward maintaining the formation gave a command, a blinding white light instantly engulfed his figure.

After a strong sensation of weightlessness and spatial distortion, he had already left the Eastern Domain where the Ninth Dao Institute was located.

In the teleportation hall of Bei Yuan City, the domain city of the Northern Domain, Wang Ping's figure appeared upon an equally massive platform.

As soon as he stepped out of the hall, a blast of dry, frigid air, starkly different from that of the Central Domain, hit him in the face.

Looking up, the sky seemed especially high and distant, presenting an icy azure hue; although the sunlight was bright, it lacked a hint of warmth.

Gazing beyond the city, faint outlines of snow-capped mountains could be seen on the horizon, like silent beasts crouching.

The Dao Institute had no direct teleportation array to Qingyu City. Qingyu City lies on the northern edge of the Northern Domain's "Eternal Snow Plains".

Its location is not a hub, and the mighty ones of Qingyu prefer tranquility, so they have not heavily developed inter-domain teleportation.

The city's teleportation array sits on a hill outside the walls; looking down, one can see two squads of fully armored guards at the gate inspecting entrants, their spears entwined with ice-blue spiritual flames—the Xuan Bing technique unique to the Northern Domain.

From the Eastern Domain to the Northern Domain, indeed different. Wang Ping tightened his outer robe, feeling the piercing cold wind blowing against him.

The spiritual energy of the Northern Domain is mixed with a rich ice-element; even as he breathes, ice crystals condense on his lips and teeth.

"Fellow Daoist, is this your first time in the Northern Domain?" a hoarse voice called from behind.

Wang Ping turned and saw an old man in a gray robe leaning on a cane, scrutinizing him. The old man's right cheek was covered in burn scars, his left eye wore a bronze eyepatch, and at his waist hung a rust-streaked bell.

"Fellow Daoist, what do you need?" Wang Ping gave a brief reply.

The old man chuckled and said, "I am surnamed Liu, known as Three-Eye Liu. Fellow Daoist, if you wish to travel in the Northern Domain, you might consider buying a copy of the 'Northern Domain Merchant's Map,' which marks all dangerous zones and teleportation points."

Wang Ping was surprised; this is a teleportation array, usually heavily guarded, yet one could do business here—even a crude map is no simple matter.

Wang Ping took the yellowed sheepskin map; as his fingertip touched the surface, he felt a piercing chill. The dense red dots on the map seemed to writhe like living things, and upon closer look they were countless tiny ice chi swimming about.

This item must be nourished with true essence, or it will fail within three days. The Liu-surnamed old man gave a strange laugh and turned away.

The ensuing journey indeed proved the map's worth. While crossing the thousand-foot ice plain, Wang Ping, relying on the safe routes marked on the map, avoided the nest of the Ice Soul Demonic Spider.

While passing through the Wailing Gully, the pre-laid Five Elements Warding Formation blocked the intrusion of vengeful spirits.

A distance of hundreds of millions of li is an uncrossable heavenly chasm for mortals, even a lifetime insufficient; for Golden Core cultivators, it is still no short journey.

The landscape below continually shifted—sometimes sweeping over barren mountain ranges with sparse vegetation and jagged rocks, sometimes soaring above endless yellow sands in a vast, silent desert—showing a glimpse of the vastness of the spiritual realm.

Wang Ping did not merely rush headlong; at times he would descend his escape light to rest in some sizable cities along the way, both to relieve the mental fatigue of long-distance flight and to get a feel for the local customs of the Northern Domain.

These cities vary in style; some are entirely human-led, featuring heavy, grandiose architecture built mainly of massive blue stone blocks, inscribed with defensive and spirit-gathering formations.

On the streets, most passing cultivators bear a robust aura, carrying the Northern Domain's distinctive cold-hard demeanor.

Others are mixed-ethnicity settlements, where one can see towering Mountain Clan strongmen hauling massive objects.

One can also see Ice-Blue-skinned Snow Clan cultivators trading ice-element spiritual materials in specific zones, and even some Winged Clan members with wings on their backs flitting through the air; the exotic architecture and distinct formation lights dazzle the eyes.

That day, Wang Ping passed through a medium-sized city named Flowing Cloud City.

This city sits at the junction of several important trade routes and is famed throughout the Northern Domain for its prosperous commerce.

Upon stepping through the heavy gate forged from thousand-year cold-iron wood, a wave of heat mixed with the scents of various spiritual medicines, ores, and demonic beast materials hit him in the face.

The streets are broad, the crowd like a woven tapestry; cultivators of all peoples come and go incessantly, the cries of vendors, haggling, and the neighs of spirit beast mounts intertwine, giving a vibrant bustle.

He was about to find a quiet teahouse to rest when he suddenly heard a noticeable commotion from the city center, with many cultivators rushing toward that direction.

"Look quick! The Dao Institute's ranking has been updated!"

"This time the Hidden Dragon List has seen big changes! I heard several new faces have appeared!"

"Hurry and have a look—maybe one of our Northern Domain's heaven-chosen ones made the list!"

"Hidden Dragon List?" Wang Ping's heart stirred. He followed the crowd toward the central plaza.

Only see, at the most conspicuous spot of the plaza, stands a towering white jade stele about ten zhang high, its surface smooth as a mirror, currently flowing with water-like spiritual light, upon which countless golden characters are engraved—the real-time updating Hidden Dragon List.

Scanning from top to bottom, one illustrious name after another came into view. To be listed among the top thousand means none other than a peerless genius famed across a region, most hailing from powerful clans or top sects. Wang Ping's gaze carefully searched the lower portion of the list, and finally, at the 183rd position, he saw his own name!

"Wang Ping, human, disciple of the Ninth Dao Institute, late Golden Core. Battle record: slew a gatekeeper on the seventh layer of the Heaven-Reaching Tower."

Below the name there is also a brief line of introduction.

"He actually made the list, and placed at 183..." Wang Ping raised his brows slightly; being in the 100s is a bit low, yet he felt no particular emotion.

Having experienced the battle on the seventh layer, his vision is no longer limited to the present; he now looks to the cultivation geniuses of all human and spiritual realm history.

Around him, keen-eyed cultivators also noticed this new name and immediately began to discuss.

"Wang Ping? Who is that? I've never heard of him before!"

"From the Ninth Dao Institute? Could he be the disciple that Dean Jiang Mingyuan supposedly took in over a decade ago, as rumored?"

"Slew a gatekeeper on the seventh layer of the Heaven-Reaching Tower?"

"Good heavens, this battle record... to reach the seventh layer is already as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns, and to even slay one? His strength is absolutely not just a little over a hundred! This evaluation is quite interesting!"

"Having come up from the lower realms only a dozen years or so, to achieve such feats—this child's talent is truly astonishing!"

Various looks of astonishment, doubt, and inquiry seemed to pierce through the crowd.

Wang Ping paid no heed to these discussions, as if they were none of his business.

He merely silently noted the top names on the list, especially those few among the top hundred whose aura markings were especially conspicuous,

these might someday become his opponents. Thereafter, he quietly slipped out of the crowd, left Flowing Cloud City, and continued northward.

The farther north he went, the colder the climate became.

Seven days later, as Wang Ping's gaze reached the end and beheld the endless snow plain that seemed to join heaven and earth, the outline of a majestic ice-and-snow metropolis gradually became clear.

The giant city was built leaning against a towering snow peak; its walls seemed constructed from ten-thousand-year-old ice, reflecting under the thin sunlight a piercing, icy gleam.

The air floated with fine, unceasing ice crystals; each breath carried a biting chill.

On the seventh day, at dusk.

At last he had arrived. Wang Ping halted on the snow mountain outside Qingyu City, looking down upon that legendary immortal city.

The entire city hovered in midair, supported by thirty-six massive ice spikes, their surfaces flowing with seven-colored rosy light.

All buildings in the city are made of green jade, with flying eaves and bracket works entwined with unextinguished blue flames.

Even more shocking is the snow peak at the city's center that reaches straight to the skyline; its summit is perpetually shrouded in bitter wind, snow, and spiritual light, and this is the dojo of the Qingyu Great Ability—the Qingyu Palace.

At this moment, on the vast snowy plain outside the Qingyu Palace, there is already a sea of people.

Tens of thousands of cultivators have gathered here from all corners of the Spirit Realm, their cultivation ranging from Foundation Establishment to Nascent Soul; both humans and some neutral alien races with calm auras can be seen.

Some sit cross-legged in the snow, eyes closed to nurture their spirits; others gather in small groups, quietly exchanging cultivation insights or discussing the impending lecture.

Others gaze upon that holy snow peak, their eyes filled with anticipation and awe. The scene is grand, a solemn yet expectant atmosphere permeating the cold air.

Upon entering the city, Wang Ping presented the green jade talisman given by his master.

Seeing the talisman, the Qingyu Palace guard's disciple, whose expression had been stern, instantly became respectful, personally guiding him and specially producing a warm jade hand stove for him to keep warm.

After passing through three arches made of ice crystals, Wang Ping was led into an open square. At this time, several hundred cultivators had already gathered on the square.

"I suppose these people could come here only if their background and strength are indispensable," Wang Ping thought to himself.

"Senior, please follow me." The guard led Wang Ping to the central seat in the front row. The seats here are carved from a single piece of green jade, with the chair backs engraved with a complex Spirit Gathering Array.

As soon as Wang Ping sat down, he felt a faint warmth transmitted from the jade cushion.

At that very moment, the noise of the inner arena and the tens of thousands outside seemed to be wiped away by an invisible hand, suddenly plunging everything into utter silence.

Upon the high platform, a green-clad figure appeared silently and without any disturbance.

There were no spatial fluctuations, no ripples of magical power; he simply stood there naturally, as if he had existed since time immemorial.

Wearing a plain green robe, his posture straight as a pine, his visage handsome, his eyes gentle yet containing the sharpness of a sword's edge—this was the Qingyu Great Ability!

"Greetings, Senior Qingyu!"

Inside and outside the arena, tens of thousands of cultivators bowed in unison, their voices merging into a wave that carried immense respect.

The Qingyu Great Ability's gaze was calm as he slowly swept over the crowd below.

When his gaze swept over Wang Ping, it seemed to pause for a moment, and in those deep eyes flickered a barely perceptible hint of understanding and faint appreciation.

He said no more, directly cutting to the topic; his voice was clear and cold like jade, yet it clearly reached every cultivator's ears, straight to their souls:

"Today, I will lecture on the Sword Dao."

Before his words faded, he pointed with his fingers like a sword, casually tracing a light stroke in the void before him.

"Clang—!"

A clear, ringing sword sound rang out—not in the ears, but directly resonating deep in everyone's sea of consciousness!

A strand of sword qi, condensed to the extreme and seemingly formed from pure Dao rhythm, sprang forth from nowhere—like a living spiritual dragon, it gracefully and nimbly wove through the air above the square.

That sword qi began as a simple, pure line of green light, but as the Qingyu Great Ability's thoughts stirred slightly, it started to differentiate and transform on its own—one gives rise to two, two to three, three to myriad things!

In the blink of an eye, the sky was filled with sword light, each strand containing a distinct sword intent, interwoven yet clearly distinct, forming a vast and splendid scroll of Sword Dao.

"The Sword Dao begins in simplicity and culminates in change," the Qingyu Great Ability said lightly, his voice resonating with the myriad sword intents in the air.

Immediately, he lightly tapped his finger.

The countless sword lights dancing across the sky, myriad in form, suddenly converged like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, collapsing inward along an unfathomably profound trajectory!

In an instant, a colossal sword shadow that seemed to pierce heaven and earth, as if it could prop open the cosmos, coalesced into form, hanging silently in the air above the square.

This giant sword had no substance, yet it emanated a terrifying pressure that could change the colors of heaven and earth; its tip dipped slightly, pointing down at the crowd below.

At this moment, everyone felt a throbbing and chill rising from the depths of their souls, as if their spirit, magical power, and even the very meaning of their existence had been locked onto and scrutinized by an invisible blade, with life and death hanging on a single thought of the other.

Even those few Nascent Soul cultivators had their faces turn extremely grave.

"Sword intent lies in the heart."

The Qingyu Great Ability withdrew his finger; the illusory giant sword in the air gradually faded, and the suffocating pressure receded like a tide. He sat cross-legged on the green cushion and began, from shallow to profound, to elaborate in detail on the mysteries of the Sword Dao.

From basic sword techniques, to the condensation and elevation of sword intent, then to the accumulation and application of sword momentum, finally touching upon the embryonic form of the Sword Domain and even the Sword Dao principles…

His explanation was not obscure; rather, it was profound yet accessible, often using the plainest words to reveal the most fundamental truths. Although he used Sword Dao as a vehicle, his discourse on 'intent,' 'momentum,' 'Dao,' and 'heart' directly pointed to the essence of cultivation, worthy of being called the supreme truth of the Great Dao.

Wang Ping listened with his whole heart, daring not to be distracted in the slightest.

Although he does not now specialize in Sword Dao, during his time in the Lower Realm he had spent a considerable period practicing Sword Technique.

Now that he has this opportunity, he certainly cannot miss it, after all, the White Tiger Slaying God Sword is also a part of Sword Dao.

The Qingyu Great Ability's elucidation on the condensation and purity of 'intent,' the accumulation and eruption of 'momentum,' and the mastery and transcendence of 'heart' gave him many new, eye-opening insights into how he himself employs the White Tiger Sword Dao.

This lecture lasted a full three days.