Chapter 442: Extending the Immortal Bridge to the Myriad Realms

Spring comes as winter departs.

Spring is the perfect season for outings—all things revive, and it’s also the season for animal mating—but that’s not the point; the point is spring’s vibrant life force.

China.

One of the Three Mountains and Five Sacred Peaks: Mount Tai.

Although the holiday was nearing its end, it couldn’t dampen people’s enthusiasm—except for students who left their homework until the last days, who were now frantically rushing to finish it.

As a result, on this day, those students rushing to finish homework would miss their opportunity.

Mount Tai.

On the mountain paths, crowds surged like the sea, noisy and chaotic, far louder than any market fair.

Japan.

Its most famous mountain, and national mountain: Mount Fuji.

As one of Japan’s most renowned sites, Mount Fuji draws massive crowds every year—even Japanese people love coming here, especially now in spring when flowers bloom and the crowds peak.

Moreover.

Famous mountains and scenic spots in every country were similarly packed with people, just like Mount Tai and Mount Fuji.

Spring, the peak travel season, was the same everywhere.

“So many people.” Xiang Hong looked up ahead.

Today, Xiang Hong had come hiking with his parents. He hadn’t wanted to come—cultivation was more important—but knowing he’d have no time to spend with them before school resumed, he agreed.

Just as they were still far from the summit, about to reach the top.

“Ahh!! Look at the sky!!”

A shrill, distorted scream made everyone shudder.

Someone cursed under his breath, then looked up and shouted: “Fuck, did the sky just explode? I thought someone fell off the mountain! Don’t scare people like that—holy shit, look at the sky, all of you!”

Everyone instinctively looked up at the sky above the summit—clear blue.

Their mouths all opened wide in unison.

Even Xiang Hong’s expression changed, and he nearly cried out.

Above the summit of Mount Tai.

The azure sky split open—a gash stretching kilometers long, faintly revealing endless deserts of sand and sea.

Rising from within stood a majestic immortal mountain.

Springs bubbled everywhere, grasses green and lush, mist swirling around the peaks, as if it were a current dwelling—faintly visible were structures upon the immortal mountain.

Then—

A rainbow-hued light-bridge descended, crushing the four corners and eight directions of heaven and earth.

Calming wind and clouds, suppressing the seas, stabilizing heaven and earth.

An immortal realm?!

No—this was an immortal opportunity!!

Many eyes burned with heat; their bodies trembled with excitement.

Ever since the Palace of Heian-kyō, people had known that opportunities could be obtained. Though divine myths forbade gods and immortals from transmitting transcendent methods, they did not prevent mortals from seeking out such opportunities.

Every time a transcendent event—or even a suspected one—occurred, crowds flocked to it.

Since the existence of the transcendent was confirmed, many had braved mountains and rivers to visit famous ancient sites rumored to be haunted by gods and immortals—even the wealthy funded these expeditions, some even going themselves.

Who, in their youth, hadn’t been reckless? Who hadn’t dreamed of becoming an immortal? Who hadn’t dreamed of eternal life?

Therefore—

Since the confirmation of the transcendent, a frenzy to seek opportunities had swept the globe; fanatics could be seen everywhere at famous landmarks.

Even among these tourists, no one could claim they didn’t harbor this hope—some hadn’t come for sightseeing at all, merely knowing Mount Tai was steeped in myth, hoping to witness it, to chance upon fortune.

Since ancient times, Mount Tai had been a famed place in Chinese mythology, tied to countless brilliant tales and divine figures.

Pangu, said to be the god who cleaved heaven and earth in Chinese myth, created the cosmos—legend claimed Mount Tai formed from his head after death, which is why it became the foremost of the Five Sacred Peaks.

The Great Emperor of the East, also called the Lord of Mount Tai, was said to be the fifth-generation descendant of Pangu, governing souls and presiding over human life, death, status, and official rank—he was the god of Mount Tai.

Bi Xia Yuan Jun—though some might not recognize the name, they’d know her as the Mother of Mount Tai or the Lady of Mount Tai; she was none other than Bi Xia Yuan Jun.

Legend says she was a jade maiden sent by Huang Di, or sometimes said to be a jade maiden from Mount Hua—but generally, she was regarded as the goddess of Mount Tai, daughter of the Mountain God.

Daoism holds that Bi Xia Yuan Jun “protects all beings, responds throughout the Nine Provinces,” and “commands the divine soldiers of the mountain, observing good and evil among mortals”—she is one of Daoism’s most important goddesses and one of the most influential in Chinese history.

Just these figures alone reveal Mount Tai’s grandeur.

At this moment—

Everyone, including Xiang Hong, had lost all interest in sightseeing; they stared fixedly as the rainbow light-bridge stretched across the sky, spanning kilometers, connecting to the summit platform of Mount Tai.

The other end linked to the rift in the heavens—radiant immortal light, swirling mist, faintly visible peaks resembling an immortal realm.

Someone gasped, voice hoarse:

“The Bridge to the Other Shore? The legendary post-heavenly merit treasure of Laozi!!”

“...Bro, that’s a Honghuang setting. The Bridge to the Other Shore is actually a legendary Daoist transcendent technique for guiding souls—but this isn’t golden; it’s rainbow-hued. If this truly is a guiding technique, its rank must be unimaginably high.”

Could this be a technique to guide mortals to immortality?

At the mention of a guiding technique, many stared even more fervently at the radiant, otherworldly light-bridge stretching from Mount Tai’s summit.

If you walk across, you become immortal?

They gazed through the bridge down into the mist-shrouded abyss beneath Mount Tai, countless fathoms deep.

They swallowed hard.

Fuck, even if you don’t become immortal, you’ll still ascend to heaven.

At the same moment—

On the summits of famous mountains worldwide—Mount Fuji, the Rockies, the Alps, Tianshan—all split open with the same rift.

Within each rift, the scene was identical: mist curled, immortal qi swirled, peaks stood firm, as if an immortal realm.

Rainbow-hued immortal light from the peaks forged a bridge extending outward—so miraculous, one single bridge stretched to Mount Tai, Mount Fuji, and everywhere else.

The scene was beyond description—just one bridge, yet connecting countless places.

Yet…

The truth went further.

In the Void Demon Realm, the Myriad Wastelands Realm, the Heavenly Grand Realm, and all worlds of the Three Supreme Realms—the same scene appeared everywhere.

In each world, above the summits of ancient mountains, a rift split open—within, an immortal realm, extending a bridge that connected to the mountain peak.

This scene appeared in every world across the myriad realms.

The rifts revealed identical scenes—the immortal peaks, the same bridge.

Vast, majestic immortal qi surged in all directions, shaking the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, the Three Thousand Great Worlds, the myriad realms.

Xiang Hong told his group about Mount Tai’s situation; when they learned their own worlds also had light-bridges appear, they were stunned—every member was awestruck.

Too miraculous.

This bridge didn’t just connect thousands—it connected the myriad realms!

At this moment—

China, Mount Tai.

With the light-bridge’s appearance, crowds erupted. In this age of networked information, news of the bridge spread at an astonishing speed.

Simultaneously, when someone declared it might be a Daoist guiding technique, the frenzy reached its peak.

…