Chapter 17: Who Is Jiang Lai? The Daoist Descends the Mountain

The Daoist path of cultivation has countless methods, but only one heart method…

Suppress the conscious mind, strengthen the nascent soul.

When the nascent soul grows strong, it purifies all yin impurities within the spirit, achieving pure yang without limit.

The stronger the yang energy, the higher one’s Dao cultivation.

All Daoist methods—spellcraft, secret incantations, hand seals, altar openings—rely entirely on this.

In other words, with sufficient Dao cultivation, any Daoist technique comes effortlessly; otherwise…

“If your Dao cultivation isn’t enough, it’s like running out of mana… you can only lose health.”

Daoist Pojie looked at Zhang Fan with a hint of sympathy.

“So….”

“You can’t just randomly chant secret incantations… or you’ll shorten your lifespan.”

Daoist Pojie comforted him: “Actually… you’ve already shortened your lifespan considerably by misusing divine powers.”

Divine power, divine power—this force, said to be granted by heaven, cannot be controlled by ordinary mortals.

When Chu Chaoran awakened his divine power, he was already thirty, had attained the Tianshi rank, and possessed profound Dao cultivation, so he wielded it effortlessly.

But Zhang Fan? He had only just reached the Qi Gong realm. In the throes of life and death, he received the Jade Tablet, seized this advantage, and barely managed to activate the divine power—even so, it cost him fortune and lifespan…

“How much lifespan do I have left?”

Zhang Fan’s face looked as if he’d just lost his blue buff to a jungler.

“Hard to say… but it’s very short,” Daoist Pojie said, unable to bear seeing him.

“How short?”

“Shorter than a man can bear.”

“Holy shit, that short?!”

Zhang Fan’s expression turned as if his red buff had been stolen too.

“Fear and anxiety stem from the restless conscious mind. Life and death are fated—no need to be so distressed,” Daoist Pojie noticed Zhang Fan’s emotional turmoil and quickly reassured him.

“…”

“Master said that after descending the mountain, you must cultivate diligently. If you can suppress the conscious mind, strengthen the nascent soul, gather herbs, and refine them to reach the Gao Gong rank, you may still make up for it,” Daoist Pojie said solemnly.

Gao Gong is the rank of Xia Weisheng.

Only then would Zhang Fan truly qualify to comprehend the Three Pure Fires!!!

“Daoist, how do I cultivate?” Zhang Fan asked urgently: “Do you have any secret manuals?!”

“The Dao follows nature,” Daoist Pojie said mysteriously.

“What does ‘the Dao follows nature’ mean?” Zhang Fan’s spirit sharpened, his face filled with reverence as he humbly sought guidance.

“Walking is Dao, methods are Law—the Dao follows nature, nothing more.”

“…”

“What I mean is… walking, standing, sitting, lying—all are cultivation. The Dao lies in every tiny detail of daily life,” Daoist Pojie said sincerely.

“…” Zhang Fan was speechless.

At that moment, Daoist Pojie pulled out a small notebook from his robe and handed it over.

Zhang Fan looked down and saw the notebook clearly bore the words: [Daoist Clerical Qualification Certificate]…

“You’ve received the Zhenwu Jade Tablet—you’re now one of us. This is your certificate…”

“Processing fee: one hundred and twenty yuan…”

“…”

Zhang Fan took the certificate, dazed: “So I’m a Daoist now?”

"It's barely enough... you still have a lot to learn..."

“You have a long road ahead.”

As he spoke, Daoist Pojie stood up and patted Zhang Fan’s shoulder with solemn weight.

Half a day later, Zhang Fan left Qingwei Palace, preparing to descend the mountain.

“Young brother, don’t neglect your cultivation when you return,” Daoist Pojie saw him off.

“Cultivation, cultivation… why don’t you just give me a legendary manual?” Zhang Fan glanced sideways, muttering inwardly.

“Young brother, what are you saying?”

Daoist Pojie squinted at Zhang Fan, as if he’d heard his thoughts.

“By the way, Daoist Pojie, before I leave, I’d like to see Jiang Lai.”

“Jiang Lai? Who is Jiang Lai?” Daoist Pojie paused, then asked.

“The female Daoist from Zhenwu Mountain,” Zhang Fan blurted out. Daoist Pojie paused, then shook his head: “There is no such person on Zhenwu Mountain.”

“Impossible…” Zhang Fan’s brow furrowed urgently: “Aren’t you going to check?”

“No need to check…”

Daoist Pojie said calmly: “I’m in charge of personnel records for Zhenwu Mountain. Every registered and unregistered Daoist’s name is in my head…”

As he spoke, Daoist Pojie tapped his own forehead.

“There is no such person on Zhenwu Mountain.”

“How could this be?!”

Zhang Fan’s brow knotted into a “ Chuan ” shape; Jiang Lai’s image flashed in his mind.

He knew she was undeniably real.

“Alright… I’ll check again later,” Daoist Pojie, seeing Zhang Fan’s expression, knew this person was of utmost importance and immediately promised.

“Thank you,” Zhang Fan nodded in gratitude.

As he spoke, he rose to take his leave, walking down the long, deep mountain path.

“Young Brother Zhang, travel safely,” Daoist Pojie’s voice came from behind, filled with sincere blessing.

“Little Fanfan, remember to chant more secret incantations when you get back.”

At that moment, a melodious voice rang out, carrying encouragement and hope.

“Get lost!”

Zhang Fan turned and gave Xia Weisheng the middle finger.

…

The winding mountain road, green shade flashing past the car window.

Zhang Fan stared at the [Daoist Clerical Qualification Certificate] in his hand, feeling as if his journey to Zhenwu Mountain had been a dream.

“Bro, we came for tourism—how did you actually become a Daoist?” Li Yishan looked at Zhang Fan with an odd expression.

“It’s just a breakup—you don’t have to become a monk and stay celibate… Should I build you a memorial arch?”

“I told you to read more books…”

Zhang Fan glanced sideways and said calmly: “Daoist sects have branches—Quanzhen forbids marriage and children, but Zhengyi allows it…”

“I’m a Zhengyi Daoist.”

As he spoke, Zhang Fan slipped the notebook into his pocket, a faint smirk of pride on his lips.

“Speak to me with more respect from now on…”

“I’ve got ancestral masters watching over me now.”

“You’re fucking…”

“Hahaha…”

A hearty laugh echoed from the sightseeing bus, fading as it traveled farther along the winding mountain road.

…

Beneath ancient pines on Zhenwu Mountain.

Chu Chaoran gazed at the distant mist-wreathed clouds, as if seeing through illusion to the world below.

“The young Daoist has descended the mountain…”

“Master, the Zhenwu Jade Tablet is our sect’s greatest treasure—why let that kid take it?” Xia Weisheng asked, puzzled.

Originally, the Jade Tablet should have been passed to her; now, as Zhenwu’s heir, she seemed illegitimate.

“Whether it’s absolute or extinct, the seventy-third generation has its pause…”

“The calamity of Zhenwu Mountain has only just begun,” Chu Chaoran murmured softly, his expression grave.

“What?” Xia Weisheng paled, pressing urgently.

“Does cultivation depend on the Jade Tablet?” Chu Chaoran changed the subject, speaking calmly: “Weisheng, you fixate too much on this. Restless conscious mind is a grave taboo—return to seclusion for a while.”

At these words, Xia Weisheng’s delicate brows furrowed; finally, she clenched her teeth, nodded, and turned away.

Clouds surged; the vast peak of Zhenwu Mountain was left with Chu Chaoran alone.

“The Great Ritual of Heaven, the Daoist calamity—eighty years have passed… the Zhenwu Jade Tablet has finally merged with light and dust…”

Chu Chaoran sighed, then murmured softly: “You too, descend the mountain.”

“Yes!!”

No sooner had the words spoken than a clear, ethereal reply echoed—a short-haired girl stepped slowly from the corner, unmistakably Jiang Lai.

(End of Chapter)