Chapter 26: The Difficulty of Destiny, Yet Finally Entering Wanshou Mountain

Following the guidance of Master Xuanming, Su Chen rode the wind, and in less than half a day, a vast, boundless mountain range appeared on the horizon.

This mountain range rose like dragons, rolling endlessly upward into the clouds.

Faint white mists curled through the peaks, resembling a fairyland.

He descended from the clouds and landed atop one of the peaks.

His spiritual sense spread out, covering hundreds of li in every direction.

Yet within his spiritual perception, it was nothing but mountains—spiritual energy was abundant, yet there was not a trace of any array, let alone a hint of a Daoist temple.

He refused to believe it, changed directions several times, and scoured the entire perimeter of the range, yet still found nothing.

This mountain range seemed truly nothing more than an ordinary land of spiritual beauty, with no connection whatsoever to the legendary abode of the Earth Immortal Ancestor.

“Strange,” Su Chen frowned slightly.

He had searched continuously for three days, nearly treading every inch of this range, yet the Wuzhuang Temple appeared as if it did not exist at all.

During this time, he had encountered numerous spirits and demons cultivating in the mountains, even several great demons rivaling the Void-Union realm, yet none of them knew anything of Wuzhuang Temple—they merely regarded this place as an ideal cultivation ground.

On the fourth day, Su Chen stood atop a solitary peak, gazing at the rolling sea of clouds, lost in thought.

“Master Xuanming would not deceive me. Wuzhuang Temple must be here.”

Then where was the problem?

He recalled Master Xuanming’s words: “Only the destined may enter.”

“I’ve been searching with my spiritual sense and eyes—but I forgot, such a supreme Daoist abode cannot be found by mere searching,” Su Chen’s eyes flickered with sudden insight.

Wuzhuang Temple was concealed by a supreme great array.

This array’s mystery had long transcended space and vision—true Wanshou Mountain likely existed as a self-contained dimension.

If you lack destiny with it, even if it stands before you, you will not see it.

But destiny is intangible—how could he prove himself “destined”?

Su Chen sat cross-legged, calming his mind.

He began contemplating the essence of Zhenyuanzi, the great immortal.

Earth Immortal Ancestor.

His Dao must be intimately tied to “the Earth.”

Perhaps the key lay within the earth beneath his feet.

Thinking this, Su Chen completely abandoned using his spiritual sense to search.

He closed his eyes, entered a state of emptiness and clarity, and slowly sank his spirit into the earth below.

He felt the veins of stone, the flow of earth qi, the breath of grass and trees.

His soul seemed to merge entirely with the entire Wanshou Mountain range.

Time slipped away. Su Chen sat motionless, like a monk in deep meditation.

As he communed with the mountains and earth, two furtive little heads peeked out from behind a nearby boulder.

One was a rabbit spirit with fluffy ears; the other, a round-bodied boar spirit whose nose twitched constantly.

These two minor demons had only just awakened their spirits and could barely speak—they were the lowest beings in Wanshou Mountain.

“Big Rabbit, look! There’s a Daoist!” the boar spirit squeaked, saliva nearly dripping, “He smells so good! Even better than that old ginseng we found last time!”

The rabbit spirit sniffed, his red eyes gleaming: “Yes! He’s sitting still. Let’s drag him back to the cave and eat him slowly!”

The two demons instantly agreed, tiptoeing out from behind the rock.

The boar spirit, relying on his thick hide, charged ahead, rushing behind Su Chen and extending two black hooves to lift him up.

Yet the moment his hooves touched Su Chen’s Dao robe, an invisible force recoiled violently.

“Ow!”

The boar spirit screamed as his round body bounced like a ball, flying backward, rolling over ten times before crashing into a large tree, dazed and seeing stars.

“Pig Brother!” the rabbit spirit gasped in shock.

At that moment, a faint aura unintentionally leaked from Su Chen, who had been sitting with closed eyes.

The rabbit spirit and the boar spirit, just rising from the ground, froze instantly.

Their pitifully limited intellect could not comprehend what this aura meant—but primal, instinctual terror made every hair on their bodies stand on end.

“Thud!”

Both demons collapsed to their knees, banging their heads against the ground like pounding garlic, unable to speak, only whimpering pitifully.

Su Chen slowly opened his eyes, gazing helplessly at the two trembling creatures on the ground.

He had been on the verge of profound insight, his spirit immersed in the earth’s veins, when these two blind fools interrupted him.

He was not angry—only amused.

He flicked his fingers, and two gentle winds swept up the two demons, carrying them miles away.

The rabbit and boar spirits saw a blur—and when they opened their eyes again, they stood before a cave entrance.

They exchanged glances, both seeing wild relief in each other’s eyes, then scrambled inside, never daring to emerge again.

Having dispelled this minor disturbance, Su Chen closed his eyes once more and sank his spirit into the earth.

After an unknown length of time, he suddenly “heard” a pulse unlike any other.

It was deep and powerful, like the very “heartbeat” of the land.

It carried a grand, ancient, boundlessly vital Daoic resonance, utterly distinct from all surrounding earth veins, yet perfectly governing them.

“Found it!”

Su Chen’s heart trembled; his soul instantly locked onto the source of that pulse.

He stood, abandoned flight, and walked step by step toward the mountain’s depths, following the inner sense.

He passed through what seemed an ordinary dense forest—and the surroundings subtly shifted.

The trees grew taller and older; many were species he had never seen before.

The spiritual energy in the air became purer; each breath filled him with serenity.

Before him, a vast, ancient Daoist temple stood quietly on the mountainside.

Green tiles, red walls, soaring eaves and bracket sets—all shrouded in a faint aura of auspicious clouds and blessed radiance, with the faint chime of bells and chimes audible.

White cranes danced gracefully before the temple; spiritual deer frolicked on the slopes behind.

Su Chen followed the mountain path to the temple’s front.

Above the temple gate hung a massive plaque, inscribed with three bold, swirling characters:

“Wuzhuang Temple!”

Beneath the plaque hung a couplet:

The abode of immortals who never age, the dwelling of Daoists who share heaven’s eternity.

An indescribable weight and majesty surged toward him.

This was not oppression from magic power—it was the Daoic resonance of pure existence itself.

Before it, Su Chen felt his Void-Union cultivation base as insignificant as dust.