Chapter 348

Snowflakes on Cangshan were as large as mats, and the fading moon cast its light over the shadowed drains.

Upon the sheer cliff, amid the blizzard, waves of battle cries rose and startled roars echoed, adding threefold mystery to this silent, deadly world.

"This was where the Pure Yang Immortal once secluded himself for meditation. Retreat at once."

"Damn it, we've lost half our men again. If Fourth Master were here, his Living Corpse Art could bypass this barrier."

"Fourth Master went to Mangdang Mountain—there's a solid lead on 'Jia Born, Gui Dead,' and Fifth Master Mo and Third Master Li have gone there too."

"Third Master went too? Isn't his health still poor?"

The cliff edge was sheer, with only a foot or two of ground to stand on; seven or eight figures gathered there, braving wind and snow. Three wore Daoist robes; the rest dressed as commoners.

All eyes turned upward, to an ancient cave embedded in the ten-thousand-zhang cliff. Its surface was mirror-smooth, inscribed with dragon-and-snake-style seal script—no one knew what it said—clearly a hidden Daoist shrine nestled deep in the wild mountains.

Each of these figures radiated inner luminescence and formidable qi, unmistakably no ordinary experts.

Yet now, their robes were stained with blood, faces pale, eyes heavy with exhaustion and awe.

"The Pure Yang Immortal's meditation site is no trivial matter. We must send someone to Bai He Monastery in the capital to summon Elder Brother."

"Elder Brother went to North Zhang. He's unlikely to spare the time to come."

The group murmured anxiously, frustrated beyond measure—standing before a treasure cave yet unable to enter.

But none dared cross the line even a step. Just this entrance had already cost them dearly.

"Fall back."

Suddenly, a cold voice rang through the vast heavens. Amid the swirling snow on the cliff, a figure descended from the sky—tall, cloaked, walking the precipice as if on level ground, treading wind and snow as if crossing a shallow stream. In an instant, he stood upon the narrow ledge.

"Second Master!"

"Second Master has arrived!"

"Hail Elder Second Master!"

Seeing him, all present broke into relief, bowing deeply, not daring to show the slightest disrespect.

"Grandfather!"

As the light flickered, Zhang Fan could not help but be moved—he had seen this scene through his pure thought, and the towering figure before him was none other than 【Shen Gua Zhang Tiansheng】.

He held immense prestige among them; the moment he appeared, their panic vanished, replaced by calm certainty.

"Second Master, we've found the place."

A man in Daoist robes stepped forward, pointing to a cave mouth on the cliff face, hidden in wind and snow.

"The meditation site of the North Uncle Xuan Immortal—finally found. All my travels across rivers and mountains, seven years of effort, were not in vain," Zhang Tiansheng said calmly.

"The North Uncle Xuan Immortal... such a master truly existed?" murmured a one-eyed, scarred man beside him.

Li Li Beixuan, a figure never recorded in history, mentioned only in scattered notes of ancient Daoist sect masters.

Zhang Tiansheng had once glimpsed fragments of his record on Mount Zhongnan: over nine hundred years ago, Li Li Beixuan emerged suddenly. He studied under Zhenwu Mountain, later infiltrated Wu Wei Gate as a spy, and by chance cultivated the complete Northern Emperor Art, advancing rapidly until he ascended to the throne of Uncle Xuan Palace.

From then on, his views shifted drastically—he favored neither Daoist sects nor Wu Wei Gate.

This "hesitant" stance angered the Daoist sects. Just as they prepared to strike him down, a cataclysmic event occurred.

Li Li Beixuan comprehended the Pure Yang Zhao Wuji Dao, reaching a level beyond all others' reach.

Pure Yang Zhao Wuji—peerless under heaven. To attain this state was to be called Immortal.

At that time, his prestige within Wu Wei Gate reached its peak; no one in the Daoist sects dared challenge him.

During his reign, he never waged war, instead promoting peace and healing, striving to reconcile Wu Wei Gate and the Daoist sects, suppressing their hatred and unrest.

For this, Wu Wei Gate still occasionally mentioned him—but the Daoist sects despised him utterly. Even after he attained Pure Yang Zhao Wuji, they deliberately erased all traces of him from their records.

"Only seven years after the North Uncle Xuan Immortal's transcendence, the Daoist sects launched the Sixth Mountain-Breaking, Temple-Destroying Campaign," Zhang Tiansheng murmured.

These past events were pieced together from ancient Daoist masters' notes and scattered Wu Wei Gate records.

He had devoted considerable effort to this.

"It's unimaginable that such a figure vanished as if he never existed," someone sighed.

How many seekers of immortality through the ages? How many ever attained Pure Yang?

He was a founder of a school, worthy of earthly incense offerings—yet nine hundred years later, who remembers his name? Who remembers he once walked among mortals?

"The great river flows eastward, washing away all heroes of old—like mud sunk in yellow sand, unknown to later generations."

Zhang Tiansheng spoke softly, then waved his hand, drawing their thoughts back.

"Let's go."

As his words faded, Zhang Tiansheng soared like a divine bird, leapt like a great roc, and plunged straight into the cave embedded in the cliff.

"Second Master!"

Their faces turned pale. They exchanged glances, then gritted their teeth and followed without hesitation.

The cave was deep. Through the cold moonlight and the swirling snow, they faintly saw a shadow ten paces inside the entrance—like a man seated in meditation, utterly motionless.

Seeing the shadow, all retreated, keeping distance, eyes filled with deep dread.

"Second Master, that shadow is strange—anyone who draws near has their Yuan Shen destroyed. We've lost many men because of it," someone whispered close to Zhang Tiansheng's ear.

"Facing the wall, leaving a shadow—this is truly the Pure Yang Zhao Wuji realm," Zhang Tiansheng murmured, gazing at the scattered corpses.

"Pure Yang Zhao Wuji—when a single thought arises, heaven and earth reverse. That's why this shadow remains."

At that moment, a chilling voice came from behind.

All turned. An old, hunched man stood at the cave entrance, behind them—no one knew when he had arrived.

"Who are you?" demanded a man in Daoist robes.

"Old fox, you're late," Zhang Tiansheng said without turning.

"Zhang Er, Mount Ailao Mountain is too far. I rode the green-skinned train for three days and nights—my old bones are rattling apart."

The old man spoke softly, slowly lifting his hat. His eyelids lifted, revealing eyes like emerald beads.

At once, all recoiled, stepping aside to clear a path.

The Green-Eyed Fox of Mount Ailao Mountain—a demon whose infamy spread across heaven and earth.

"Does this place truly hold the Ninth Method? If not, this risk is not worth it."

The Green-Eyed Fox stepped beside Zhang Tiansheng, gazing into the cave's depths, then at the wall's shadow—his aged face etched with deep wariness.

"The North Uncle Xuan Immortal penetrated the cosmic mysteries. In his later years, he studied the Nine Methods and the Eight Kings Carrying the Coffin Diagram. I am certain—even if the Ninth Method isn't here, there are vital clues," Zhang Tiansheng declared with absolute certainty.

He had risked his life, plundering countless ancient tombs and Daoist mausoleums with Xu Lao Liu, just to find this place—he would not leave empty-handed.

"Then let's begin."

The Green-Eyed Fox's gaze shifted to the shadow on the wall.

"Zhang Er, this thing shatters Yuan Shen. What do you think it is?" he asked, not moving yet.

"Many methods can suppress or destroy Yuan Shen—but Yuan Shen is innately afraid of only two things," Zhang Tiansheng replied calmly.

"Thoughts and the Three Corpses," the Green-Eyed Fox interjected.

"Thoughts are fascinating. Our Ancestor said all things are created by mind—mind is thought…" Zhang Tiansheng said solemnly.

"Even this world we see is born from thought."

The Green-Eyed Fox raised an eyebrow—he knew Zhang's ancestor was the founding patriarch of Long Hu Mountain, Zu Tian Shi Zhang Dao Ling.

He was the true great figure of all ages.

"The world born from thought? That's too idealist," the Green-Eyed Fox murmured.

"Idealist?" Zhang Tiansheng smiled. "Old fox, you're a great demon, living deep in the mountains, yet you keep talking about idealism…"

He shook his head, then changed topic: "I heard from our Third Brother that Western science once ran an experiment—the double-slit experiment…"

"What's that?" The Green-Eyed Fox looked baffled.

"The conclusion: microscopic matter behaves as particles when observed, but as a wave when unobserved…" Zhang Tiansheng said calmly.

One single act of observation produced vastly different results—why?

All actions follow thought; thought arises, then conditions arise.

"Meaning thought can influence, even form, matter."

Zhang Tiansheng's words left the others half-understanding—even the Green-Eyed Fox fell silent.

"Our Ancestor said Yuan Shen might also be a thought."

"Huh!?"

At this, all were stunned—such a claim overturned their understanding, exceeding their comprehension.

Everyone knew thought was the first trial of Yuan Shen—how could it be the same thing?

"Carbon can form different substances—coal or diamond…" Zhang Tiansheng explained.

"If thought is water vapor, then Yuan Shen is frozen ice—transparent as glass, ever-present and unperishing…"

"Water vapor can melt ice—so thought is the great trial of Yuan Shen…"

"But conversely, water vapor can also become part of the ice, strengthening it—though only one method in heaven and earth can achieve this…"

"The most fearsome thing under heaven—the Divine Demon Embryo!" the Green-Eyed Fox said, eyes darkening, uttering eight words.

He had to admit—Zu Tian Shi's insight was startling, as if opening a door never seen before.

"No wonder you're a disciple of Southern Zhang—the true Long Hu lineage."

The Green-Eyed Fox looked at Zhang Tiansheng, unable to hide his envy—just this lineage, just this surname, was a height many could never reach in a lifetime.

"Then what are the Three Corpses?" the Green-Eyed Fox suddenly asked.

"The North Uncle Xuan Immortal comprehended the Manifestation of the Three Corpses. The Three Corpses dwell within every human," Zhang Tiansheng replied, shifting topic without directly answering.

"I believe this shadow reveals the Three Corpses within a person, triggering the trial—death by Three Corpses."

"Not thought—Three Corpses," the Green-Eyed Fox mused, then nodded.

"Then it's simple."

As he spoke, he pulled a lantern from his bosom—withered, pitted, streaked with faint rust and bloodstains, untouched by time for countless years.

"This thing truly fell into Mount Ailao Mountain," Zhang Tiansheng said, his expression shifting slightly—he recognized it.

This lantern clearly had a profound origin.

"Hehe…"

The Green-Eyed Fox let out a cold laugh; his eyes glowed with a dim, misty hue, as if their light had been stolen. Then, the withered lantern ignited—its dim yellow glow fell upon each of them, and their shadows slowly dissolved.

"Let's go…" The Green-Eyed Fox walked ahead, lantern in hand.

"But…" someone hesitated.

"This is called 'darkness beneath the lamp'—it conceals the Three Corpses. An ancient Daoist technique for evading disaster," the Green-Eyed Fox said without turning.

Zhang Tiansheng said nothing and walked behind the Green-Eyed Fox. The others followed in silence, each stepping through the shadow on the wall.

At that moment, the Green-Eyed Fox's lantern swayed slightly—the dim yellow light slid away from the man who had just questioned him.

Hum…

The next instant, the man collapsed with a thud, his Nascent Soul shattering into specks of starlight, absorbed by the shadow on the wall.

"Hehe…"

The Green-Eyed Fox grinned, his face twisting beneath the dim candlelight, slowly taking on the shape of a fox's visage.

Hum…

The shadows flickered and shifted, and Zhang Fan's spirit flowed with their motion.

Finally, another scene emerged.

Before an ancient stone gate, corpses lay strewn across the ground. The Green-Eyed Fox leaned against the wall, his breath faint, his eyes long destroyed—now two hollow pits. His lower body, like withered wood, was beginning to crumble into dust.

"This is truly the secluded realm of a True Person… This is the method of the Five Elements' Corrupted King," the Green-Eyed Fox whispered weakly.

"Zhang Er, you walk the path ahead. Give me a quick end."

The Green-Eyed Fox's face showed no emotion—such a great demon had long since grown indifferent to life and death, having unified yin and yang, leaving nothing to fear.

Hum…

Zhang Tiansheng's expression darkened slightly. Without a word, he flicked his finger—a streak of black flame shot forth, igniting the Green-Eyed Fox. Flames surged instantly, swallowing him whole.

"Pure Yang… Pure Yang… How many seekers of immortality have sought it? How many ever attained it?"

The Green-Eyed Fox laughed aloud—mad, sorrowful, helpless, resigned to fate.

"Pure Yang!"

Zhang Tiansheng turned around, murmuring softly, drew a deep breath, and slowly pushed open the stone gate before him.

He knew—the clue to the Ninth Method might lie within.

A cold wind swept in, stirring ancient dust, as if millennia of sealed time had stirred anew.

At the threshold, an old stone stele came into view, bearing two lines of small characters:

The fox lights the withered lamp; Tian Sheng enters this gate.

Zhang Tiansheng read them, his face filled with shock.

"Pure Yang True Person—his words became prophecy, revealing the celestial fate of ages to come," Zhang Tiansheng said with solemn reverence.

Now, he felt even more certain—the clue to the Ninth Method must lie here.

He walked straight ahead. At the very depths, a divine altar emerged, its candles blazing brightly, unextinguished for a thousand years. The dim yellow light illuminated drifting dust, forming a path of radiance that framed the stele upon the altar, lending it the weight of ancient time.

Zhang Tiansheng's mind grew hazy—he had never imagined that the very end of this cave shrine would hold a stele, preserved for a thousand years, as if waiting solely for him, the destined one.

Upon that stele, only four large characters were carved:

"All who can see the Law!?" Zhang Tiansheng whispered softly.

(End of Chapter)