Chapter 1: Ancient Temple Before the Ancestor

Jiangbei Province, Zhenwu Mountain.

On the winding mountain road, a sightseeing bus sped along; through the glass window, sheer cliffs could be seen beside, and ancient trees brushed past.

“I don’t believe this sacred immortal land can’t cleanse your filthy soul.”

A confident voice came from beside him; Zhang Fan tilted his head slightly against the window, glancing at his best friend’s self-assured face, then turned listlessly back to the scenery outside.

Four years of university friendship ended with the curse of graduation season being breakup season—they went their separate ways, and the two once closest to each other now had no overlapping paths in life.

The running figure beneath the sunset had become nothing but lost youth…

This stark contrast left Zhang Fan unable to shake off his gloom for a long time.

As his best friend, Li Yi had no choice but to drag him out—climb the mountain, pay homage, burn incense, change his mood, and pray to gods and Buddhas.

“Do you think… immortals have to pass through the trial of emotion?”

At that moment, Zhang Fan asked without turning his head.

“This is Zhenwu Mountain—it’s spiritually potent. Don’t speak recklessly,” Li Yi said, eyes wide, voice hushed.

“But the old saying goes: mortals seeking immortality fall into the mortal world and must pass two trials to attain the Dao…”

Li Yi had studied folk culture in university.

“Which two trials?” Zhang Fan asked offhandedly.

“The trial of emotion and the trial of life and death… Only after passing both will a high master come to guide you,” Li Yi whispered.

“Since ancient times, Zhenwu Mountain has been called a blessed land of immortals, still…”

“A 5A-level national scenic area, ticket price two hundred and eighty…”

Before the other could finish, Zhang Fan cut in.

“This is the sacred ground of the Great Emperor Zhenwu—he attained the Dao here, presided over the north, swept away demons, and is also known as the Ninth Heaven’s Demonic Cleansing Ancestor,” Li Yi said solemnly.

Zhenwu Mountain was one of the famed mountains of the world.

During the Zhen Guan era of the Tang Dynasty, the imperial court erected the “Five Dragon Pavilion” here to pray for rain, thus opening the mountain’s Daoist gate as one of the seventy-two blessed lands; over the ages, countless seekers of immortality climbed to dwell and glimpse the Dao.

Today, it had indeed become a 5A-level national scenic area… an undeniable fact.

“I heard a bottle of mineral water on the mountain costs ten yuan…” Zhang Fan muttered to himself.

“… ”

“The incense at Zhenwu Mountain is the most efficacious—I’ve heard…”

“A family portrait set costs three hundred and eighty…”

Before arriving, Zhang Fan had read the guide on “Little Yellow Book.”

“… ”

“If praying to gods and Buddhas worked, there would be no miserable people in the world.”

Zhang Fan leaned against the window, gazing outside: endless mountains rose and fell, peaks piercing the sky, deep ravines winding to the earth’s core, flowers and trees vying for beauty on both cliffs, pines and bamboos competing in verdancy.

Moments later, the sightseeing bus left the winding road and stopped before a clearing; stepping out, an ancient Daoist temple appeared before them—eaves like bird beaks, steeped in antiquity, incense smoke curling upward, faint bells echoing in the ears.

“Zixiao Palace… one of the Nine Palaces of Zhenwu Mountain, a famous attraction…”

“Don’t speak recklessly once you’re here.”

Li Yi followed Zhang Fan off the bus and whispered a reminder from the side.

“Young man, buy incense? The ones inside are expensive… a family portrait set is four hundred and eighty…”

As soon as they stepped down, several elderly men and women, carrying bags of incense and candles, surrounded them—living off the mountain, living off the water, living off the gods… clearly their livelihood.

“No thanks,” Zhang Fan waved them off.

“Young man, if you see a god and don’t burn incense, you’ll suffer retribution,” the old woman smiled sweetly, kindly.

“… ”

Zhang Fan kept walking, but Li Yi bought two sets of incense and candles, hurried after him, and handed one over.

“One hundred and twenty. Remember to transfer me the money.”

“You want money too?” Zhang Fan gave him a skeptical look.

“Of course—incense money must come from your own pocket,” Li Yi said, speaking of taboos.

“Can’t you just cheer up?”

Li Yi stared at Zhang Fan’s listless state and urged: “So what if you broke up? Want to get married? Want to hold a wedding ceremony? Afraid you’ll turn into Wu Dalang?”

“Shut up,” Zhang Fan said flatly.

“Our ancestors said: you want a car, you want a house—better to stay single.”

“Did your ancestors say that?”

Zhang Fan, holding the incense and candles, stepped through the mountain gate and saw architecture steeped in antiquity—not Ming or Qing style; the walls, crisscrossed with fissures, bore the marks of time.

He took a deep breath; the mountain’s cool air pierced his lungs, clearing his mind.

“What a fine place,” Zhang Fan murmured softly; his mood seemed to lift slightly.

“This temple is over a thousand years old… just treat it like a mountain hike…”

Li Yi leaned in, squinting with a grin: “If you switch partners fast enough, there’s only love, no sorrow…”

“I heard mountain climbers often come here—maybe you’ll even get a romantic encounter…”

“Good heavens, how can you say such things in a place like this…”

Zhang Fan pulled away from Li Yi as if avoiding plague: “Immortals above, that’s what he said…”

“Aren’t you supposed to be against superstition?” Li Yi glared fiercely.

“I’m now desireless and indifferent—I have no interest in women.”

Zhang Fan’s face wore an air of pure detachment, incense and candles in hand, entering the worship hall.

Inside, three statues were enshrined: in the center, naturally, the [Great Emperor Zhenwu]; to the left, [Sanfeng Ancestor]; to the right, [Chunyang Ancestor].

Both were immortals who attained the Dao on Zhenwu Mountain and were immensely renowned in history.

At the moment, there were few worshippers in the hall; under the temple attendant’s guidance, Zhang Fan lit incense and bowed deeply before the Great Emperor Zhenwu.

Then he moved to the left, before the [Sanfeng Ancestor] statue.

“Wait in line…”

Li Yi pulled Zhang Fan into line behind two elderly women, who knelt on prayer mats, mumbling prayers, one of them bowing so hard her head hit the floor with a thud.

“Hm!?”

At that moment, Zhang Fan caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision: a girl stood behind them, about 1.7 meters tall, fair-skinned, short hair cut to her shoulders, bright and lovely features, an ethereal and refined aura, dressed in a unique black brocade robe with water-wave patterns.

“Hurry and bow!”

Li Yi’s voice pulled Zhang Fan back; both dropped to their knees before the [Sanfeng Ancestor] statue and bowed three times.

When they rose, Zhang Fan saw the black-robed girl step forward to kneel and bow, hands clasped in deep reverence.

“She’s alone!?” Zhang Fan instinctively scanned the surroundings but saw no companion beside her.

Traveling alone was rare enough; even rarer was climbing a mountain alone.

Zhang Fan had seen an online chart called the “Loneliness Level Ten Scale”—undergoing surgery alone was level ten; traveling alone was level eight.

“Why doesn’t she even have luggage?”

Zhang Fan wondered; everyone else on the mountain carried heavy bags, especially women—even if they didn’t bring food or water, sunscreen was essential.

Such oddness made Zhang Fan glance at her twice.

“Let’s go worship Chunyang Ancestor.”

As he spoke, Li Yi pulled Zhang Fan to the right side of the hall; just then, the black-robed girl, having finished bowing to [Sanfeng Ancestor], followed and stood behind them in line.

Li Yi was utterly devout, murmuring prayers; Zhang Fan’s mind, however, was mostly elsewhere.

At this moment, only the three of them remained on the right side of the hall.

After completing their worship, the two rose; seeing the black-robed girl step forward, they stepped aside slightly and turned to exit the hall.

Outside the door, after walking only a short distance, Zhang Fan turned to look back at the worship hall, now receding.

“What are you thinking? You’re still too sentimental… you broke up…”

“Did you see that beautiful girl just now? She…”

Far from the temple, beyond the gaze of the ancestors, Zhang Fan dared to speak, recalling the black-robed girl.

“What beautiful girl!?”

Li Yi’s puzzled expression made Zhang Fan stop in his tracks.

(End of Chapter)