Chapter 215: Sowing the Sun

The guesthouse owner drove along the mountain road, already regretting it.

This mountain path was treacherous to begin with—one misstep could send you tumbling into a deep abyss, and now the rain was growing heavier, mist swirling through the mountains, obscuring the way ahead.

Even though the windshield wipers swung furiously, he'd broken into a cold sweat along the entire journey.

"Granny, if I hadn't grown up here, that last turn would've killed me!"

Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he spoke to his grandmother in the back seat.

"Didn't we make it down without falling? That's the Goddess protecting us."

His grandmother, sensing the blame in his tone, retorted firmly.

The owner shook his head, unwilling to argue with his grandmother, and slowed the car even more.

They finally reached the Goddess Temple.

The temple was newly built, with easy parking—he followed his grandmother inside.

The deity inside was draped in gold and red, its features gentle, gazing down upon the hall; his grandmother knelt devoutly on the prayer mat, murmuring prayers.

The owner stared at the rain pouring harder outside, no longer thinking of business—only worrying how they'd descend the mountain.

His grandmother's prayers reached his ears:

"Goddess, such heavy rain, and only we came to see you, only we think of you."

"I ask for little."

"My grandson still has no wife—Goddess, please, grant him a good marriage."

"Granny!"

"Quiet! Speak so loud and the Goddess will punish you." His grandmother hissed, then added: "His business is hard too—I don't understand livestreaming or any of that. I don't ask for him to become rich or powerful—only that he live lightly, without so much exhaustion."

The guesthouse owner pressed his lips together.

"He's never known comfort in his life, and he's such a filial son—his parents fell ill one after another, and he had to return to care for them, delaying his career and marriage…"

"Now he has to support this old burden of mine…"

"Granny, why say these things?" the owner said, embarrassed. "The Goddess doesn't care about all this."

"Oh, one more thing." His grandmother ignored him: "When my time comes, Goddess, let me pass cleanly, neatly—don't let me drag this child down any further."

"Granny!"

"Come here!" His grandmother stood up and told him: "You pray again—work, marriage—say it twice more. The Goddess will remember if she hears it enough."

The owner fell silent for a moment.

Then he knelt on the prayer mat, silently thinking:

"Protect my grandmother to a hundred years."

He didn't think of anything else—he stood up immediately.

"That's it? Did you even pray seriously?" His grandmother muttered. "What did you ask for?"

"I have nothing to ask for," the owner smiled. "I don't believe in this."

"You little brat!"

"Let's go down the mountain! The rain's getting worse!"

The owner pulled his grandmother into the car.

The rain grew heavier; the mountain road grew darker and slicker, harder to navigate.

After half an hour of driving, they were still circling the mountain.

Suddenly, an intensely bright flash of lightning struck the mountain peak—thick and long.

The owner, blinded by the electric glare, startled and slammed on the brakes, staring at the peak.

"What happened?" his grandmother asked from the back seat.

"Granny… the rain stopped."

"Stopped?"

Both looked up at the sky.

The thick, cotton-like clouds had split open a large hole—and sunlight poured through, perfectly illuminating Hongshan Mountain.

Outside the mountain, the storm still raged.

But on Hongshan, the wind had ceased and the rain had ended.

"The Goddess… has manifested!"

His grandmother whispered, trembling.

The owner stared, mouth agape—and for the first time, he found himself agreeing with his superstitious grandmother.

"I told you to say it twice!"

His grandmother added.

"I did," the owner pressed the accelerator, driving out of the mountain while the rain paused. "I said everything."

…

"Really impressive…"

Looking up at the sky, the old white-haired man muttered in wonder.

"The cloud-rain-thunder system is indeed extremely difficult," Tang Lingwumin recorded beside him. "We've now identified three most useful trajectories."

"Cloud movement, rain deployment, and just now—rain-stopping thunder. Rain deployment demands higher control over thunder techniques; rain-stopping thunder demands less control but far greater spiritual power."

Zheng Fa nodded.

After a period of experimentation, their current understanding of cloud-rain-thunder was entirely based on laser principles.

For example, cloud movement and rain deployment both produce rain—only differing in energy intensity and duration.

As for rain-stopping thunder, it's even more brutal—using high-energy laser heat to re-vaporize and disperse water droplets in the clouds.

Just now, Zheng Fa used nearly one-tenth of his spiritual power to disperse the rain clouds over only one mountain peak.

Now Zheng Fa faced two problems.

First, his precision in controlling rain still couldn't reach the level of a hair's breadth.

Second, he couldn't use rain-stopping thunder over a wide area, nor could he generate large volumes of rain.

In short, his spiritual power control and total spiritual power were both still insufficient.

…

Xuanwei Realm.

Jiushan Sect loomed in the distance.

Since explaining the difference between the new and old methods, Han Lao had taken the distracted Yan Wushuang away.

Zhang Shijie had also not spoken at length with Zheng Fa—she too seemed to be processing this shocking revelation.

Even Yuan Shijie, who drove them, appeared unusually quiet.

Only when they saw the familiar nine peaks did Zhang Shijie speak to Zheng Fa: "What do you think of the Qingyang Dao Body now?"

She didn't even ask what choice he'd made—she already seemed certain.

"Don't throw out the baby with the bathwater," Zheng Fa mused. "I don't know what new method the Tianhe Zunzhe devised—but if we wish to forge another path, today's immortal techniques remain vital references—after all, spiritual energy is always external."

This was the point Zheng Fa had never understood:

Any discussion of immortal techniques carries one fundamental assumption—

Spiritual energy is inherently external, and Zheng Fa now suspected its fluctuations might be tied to this fact.

What exactly had the Tianhe Zunzhe created, to make old-method cultivators so intolerant?

Thinking of this, Zheng Fa suddenly had a thought:

Could this Tianhe Zunzhe be trying to fully localize spiritual energy?

It's like a modern world country investing in another—intending to reap profits and withdraw.

But the invested country says no: profits are fine, but you can't take them away—and you must leave your principal behind too…

The more Zheng Fa thought, the stranger his expression became.

Could this Tianhe Zunzhe even travel to the modern world?

Just… to a place a bit south of where he went…

…

The Jiushan Patriarch still looked the same—as Zhang Shijie did.

Zhang Shijie stared at "herself" crouching on the ground, playing with a dead branch among ants, her face darkening.

"Oh? You two came together?" The Jiushan Patriarch turned, delighted. "Got any new ideas?"

"Disciple has a question for the Patriarch."

"A question?"

The Jiushan Patriarch flicked away the branch and clapped his hands. "What is it?"

"Previously, the Patriarch bestowed upon me Qingyang Qi—I've now cultivated the Qingyang Dao Body."

The Jiushan Patriarch nodded, urging him to continue.

"But now I'm also practicing the Shenxiao Yu Lei Zhenfa—have you ever heard of this technique?"

"Of course I have—your master practices it too."

"But now this technique has a problem…"

Zheng Fa explained how his thunder seed had been replaced by the tender sprout.

The Jiushan Patriarch looked puzzled. He thought for a moment: "I don't know much about this. Qingyang Qi… was originally meant for the original body."

"The original Patriarch?"

Zheng Fa still remembered how the Ninth Mountain Patriarch had once told him he was merely a fragment soul of the original Ninth Mountain Patriarch, who had long since merged with the Mountain River True Form Talisman.

"Yes, he originally intended to abandon the Ninth Mountain spiritual vein and change his foundation, and he made many preparations," the Ninth Mountain Patriarch explained. "Transforming Qingyang Qi into a Qingyang Dao Body was one such method."

"So it seems the Qingyang Dao Body truly is extraordinary…"

Zhang Shijie murmured from beside him.

Zheng Fa silently nodded.

Zheng Fa did not know what realm the original Ninth Mountain Patriarch had reached—but it must have been stronger than Nascent Soul.

Although the Ninth Mountain Patriarch was a transformed beast, inherently more unusual than ordinary cultivators, his true power was hard to gauge.

But consider this: the Ninth Mountain spiritual vein he abandoned had nourished the Ninth Mountain Sect for tens of thousands of years, giving rise to not just one or two Nascent Souls.

Someone like him, who could treat Qingyang Qi as a treasure—and even consider it a path to reshaping his foundation—clearly proves the Qingyang Dao Body is extraordinary.

"As for the Qingyang Dao Body… the original body only heard a fragment of text, passed down from ancient times, and felt this thing was a treasure…"

The Ninth Mountain Patriarch frowned, as if deep in thought, and spoke slowly:

"Purple Mansion Celestial Realm, Qingyang transforms into Qi. Mastering the scrolls of all immortals, opening the origin of the Dao's gate…"

He recited a passage, then seemed to forget the rest, scratching his head in agitation.

If he had seen this expression on Zhang Shijie's face in ordinary times, Zheng Fa would have surely admired it—but now he had no such thoughts, and stared blankly as he replied:

"Purple Qi connects the city. Great compassion, great vow, great sage, great mercy. Qingyang gives birth to the sect—Purple Mansion, Eastern Splendor Emperor…"

"Huh? You've heard this too?"

The Ninth Mountain Patriarch exclaimed in surprise.

Zheng Fa, lost in thought, replied: "I've seen it…"

He had seen it in the modern world.

This passage came from the "Precious Litany of the Eastern Splendor Emperor."

Before he came here, he had searched online for information on "Qingyang," and this very passage had appeared.

The Eastern Splendor Emperor is also known as the Eastern King Lord.

Legend says he was the foremost male immortal of ancient times.

His alternate title—Great Emperor of Fusang.

He looked at the spiritual sprout within his body—was this thing… Fusang wood?

Was he about to grow a sun?

"Younger brother, what are you thinking about?"

Zheng Fa shook his head. Even to Zhang Shijie, the one he trusted most, he found himself unable to speak.

He had long known the modern world and the Xuanwei Realm were closely linked—physical laws and biological forms were identical.

When he first received the Divine Light of the Five Elements' Reverse and Normal Forces, he had felt a strange familiarity, and had checked ancient texts and modern-transmitted runes.

Those things were only vaguely similar, offering no help to cultivation—he could only keep such doubts buried within him.

Yet now, from the mouth of the Ninth Mountain Patriarch, he heard a passage nearly identical to the "Precious Litany of the Eastern Splendor Emperor"…