Chapter 12: Five Thunder Orthodoxy, the Transcendent Zhenren

Xia Weisheng, seventy-third-generation heir of Zhenwu Mountain.

She is two years younger than Zhang Fan, yet she is the closing disciple of the current Zhenwu Patriarch [Chao Chaoran], and also Zhenwu Mountain’s youngest [Gonggong].

“Brother, you knew today was the Jade Register Transmission—why let an outsider enter Qingwei Palace!?”

Xia Weisheng’s beautiful eyes narrowed, her moonlit gaze sweeping over Zhang Fan, her translucent nose twitching slightly.

“I don’t think he’s a good person.”

Zhenwu’s lineage spans seventy-three generations; because of the Fan, the destined one shall arrive.

Precisely because of the Ancestor’s verse, everyone on Zhenwu Mountain is extra wary of outsiders.

Moreover, Xia Weisheng is this generation’s heir, and tonight she shall receive the Jade Register.

“There’s a reason… Sister, rest assured—this… this lay devotee has passed the initial stir, endured the transformation of dragon and serpent—he is no ordinary mortal.” Pojie softly spoke, sensing Xia Weisheng’s thoughts.

Xia Weisheng’s expression eased slightly: “Brother, you don’t even know his name…”

“Oh right, I haven’t asked your name yet.” Pojie turned awkwardly toward Zhang Fan and asked.

“Oh, I’m Zhang Fan.”

“Hmm, his name is Zhang…”

Pojie nodded, mid-sentence, then froze: “What did you say your name is?”

“Zhang Fan… what’s wrong? Can’t I be called that?”

“Zhang Fan… Fan…” Pojie’s brow lifted, chewing on the name, his face darkening.

“Because of the Fan, the destined one comes… So you are the one foretold…”

Hum…

Xia Weisheng murmured softly; her previously calm gaze turned sharp, wind surging around her, her Daoist robe flapping violently, brilliant arcs of light rising from her palms like surging lightning, dazzling and fierce.

“Five Thunder Orthodoxy!” Pojie’s face darkened, exclaiming: “Sister, no—”

Among the Nine Levels of Xianling, [Qigong] merely moves Qi to strengthen the body.

Above that is [Shu Tu], capable of comprehending and practicing Daoist spells; if one masters twelve minor arts, they may be granted the rank of [Xuanshi].

Spells like [Five Thunder Orthodoxy] require at least the rank of [Lingsi] to cultivate and wield.

Small ones are called arts; great ones are called methods.

Among Daoist spells, thunder arts are the hardest to cultivate, let alone the most orthodox [Five Thunder Orthodoxy]—only someone like Xia Weisheng, a [Gonggong], can summon it effortlessly.

Know this: even among Gonggong, Pojie himself only mastered [Three Thunder Servicing Method].

Boom…

Arcs of light flashed, thunder qi surged wildly between Xia Weisheng’s five fingers.

Terrifying energy spread from her feet, cracking the ground in fissures, gale-force winds sweeping like tidal waves…

“Can humans really cultivate to this level?”

Zhang Fan raised his hand to block the howling wind, Jiang Lai’s figure flashing in his mind.

She, like Xia Weisheng before him, wielded power no ordinary human should possess.

“Sister, no—”

Pojie stepped forward, blocking Zhang Fan’s front.

“Brother, I don’t want to hurt you…”

Her cold words drifted down; arcs of light swept across the ground, shattering stones, carving deep fissures…

“Three Thunder Servicing Method!”

Pojie extended his right hand, curling his middle and ring fingers, three fingers upright—clearly the Daoist hand seal: [Three Pure Ones Seal]…

Know this: many Daoist spells require hand seals, Gang steps, directions, secret incantations, and more.

The Three Pure Ones Seal is one of the most commonly used hand seals.

Hum…

Three fingers summoned thunder, azure as the sky; the arcs of light paled beside Xia Weisheng’s [Five Thunder Orthodoxy]. In an instant, the two thunderbolts collided violently, stones beneath them exploding, dust rising, terrifying shockwaves sweeping across the ground…

The next moment, a disheveled figure flew out of the dust, spinning like a top midair before stumbling to the ground—it was Pojie…

His Daoist robe was torn into shreds, wild arcs of lightning coiling around him.

“East three, south two, north one, west four—these are the primal numbers; the center is five—hence, Five Thunder Orthodoxy…”

A casual voice echoed under the moonlight; dust settled, and Xia Weisheng walked forward calmly, as if strolling through a garden, brilliant arcs of light surging and spilling from her fingertips, radiating terrifying power.

“Brother, I stand centered, invincible, the great tide vast—Five Thunder sweeps all… Don’t make things hard for yourself.”

Xia Weisheng spoke gently, yet her confidence towered like a mountain.

“Sister, you really dare say that…” Pojie frowned, a bead of cold sweat slowly forming on his brow.

“Brother, this man appearing here tonight is no coincidence…” Xia Weisheng’s gaze shifted, settling on Zhang Fan.

“Because of the Fan, the destined one comes… He is the one foretold. The Ancestor’s lineage shall not end on my watch.”

As she spoke, Xia Weisheng stepped forward; the arcs in her fingers leapt wildly, curling like serpents, instantly wrapping around her body, an even more terrifying aura surging like a tide…

“If you still won’t yield… I won’t spare the bonds of fellow disciples…”

Xia Weisheng, unbound by convention, her beautiful eyes suddenly flashing with lethal intent.

“Blessings without measure…”

At that moment, an ancient chant echoed through the quiet moonlight…

Instantly, floating light sank, dust settled—even the thunder arcs in Xia Weisheng’s palms seemed to revert to their primal state, slowly fading away.

“Master!”

“Master!”

Xia Weisheng and Elder Pojie turned toward the voice, bowing respectfully.

Zhang Fan instinctively looked up and saw an old Daoist walking through the moonlight from the darkness; though white-haired and ruddy-faced, he lacked celestial grace—he looked more like a common farmer from the fields, and strangely familiar…

“Zhenwu Mountain’s Quiet Cultivation Class, now only 5,880 for a broken bone!”

Seeing the man, a familiar voice rang in Zhang Fan’s mind.

“Holy shit, you’re not the guy who sold…”

“Step with precision, live with steadiness, young man, be more composed…”

Before Zhang Fan could finish, the old Daoist appeared before him, grabbing his hand with warm kindness.

“Don’t be reckless… This is my Master…” Pojie glared and whispered a warning.

The Zhenwu Patriarch, Chao Chaoran, is a living relic of today’s Daoist world, publicly recognized as a [Zhenren], his cultivation having reached the Pure Yang Ultimate Realm, just like the ancient Master Zhongfeng.

“Master Chao!?” Zhang Fan stared skeptically at the old man who sold courses.

“Master, he…” Xia Weisheng stepped forward, watching Zhang Fan warily.

“I know.”

Master Chao raised his hand, his deep gaze fixed on Zhang Fan; after a long pause, he spoke softly.

“Fate and timing.”

“Weisheng, come with me to Zhenwu Hall… The auspicious hour for Jade Register Transmission is near.” Master Chao said calmly.

“What about him…” Xia Weisheng pointed at Zhang Fan.

“Pojie…”

“Master…” Elder Pojie hurried forward.

“Take him away and see to his comfort.” Master Chao lifted his eyelids slightly, looking at Zhang Fan.

“Master, where should we put him?”

Master Chao turned, his robe swirling, and a faint voice drifted from the night.

“Chunyang Hall.”

(End of Chapter)