[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-pure-yang":3,"chapter-pure-yang-pure-yang-chapter-448":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Pure Yang!",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2267548,4427,"Chapter 448: Chance Encounter in the Mountains! Dao Ancestor Zhang Daoling","pure-yang-chapter-448",448,"\u003Cp>Deep night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Floating clouds rolled away mist; the bright moon streamed its light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Longhu Mountain loomed over the earth, reclining in the night.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Its rolling peaks crouched like a tiger, coiled like a dragon; the Luxi River wound across it, resembling a jade belt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the mountain’s foot, Zhang Fan stood with his pack on his back, turning to look back, his expression calm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had wandered all day, spending 180 yuan on the ticket, yet found nothing at all.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Wu had said that today’s Longhu Mountain was no longer the Longhu Mountain of old.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the temples and palaces on the mountain were built later; the original site and the ancient mountain gate had been lost during the [Dao Gate Great Calamity] eighty years ago—even masters of the Tian Shi realm could not find that former path.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan spent the whole day wandering through the mountains, visiting every attraction, even, as he once had on Zhenwu Mountain, avoiding the usual paths and instead choosing narrow trails, even places with no path at all, climbing sheer cliffs and roaming the woods until he descended only after midnight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Truly ordinary,” Zhang Fan couldn’t help muttering.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even the aura of this mountain now couldn’t match Tongluo Mountain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words, today’s Longhu Mountain is no longer the true Longhu Mountain—how could it still bear the aura of the number one Daoist mountain!?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What exactly was the Dao Gate Great Calamity?” Zhang Fan murmured softly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The mortal world, red dust, is real and illusory; the senses of ordinary mortals are most easily deceived by appearances.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even with the Nascent Soul awakened, able to perceive a different world, what one sees remains limited; the higher the realm, the more different the world one perceives.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tian Shi—that is the realm of unity with Heaven and Earth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet even such beings could not penetrate the secrets of Longhu Mountain or find the old mountain gate’s location!?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I wonder if my father ever found it,” Zhang Fan mused.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ten years ago, his entire family had returned once; it was then that Zhang Fan first clashed with Li Changgeng, entered Da Ye Bu Liang, and cultivated the Divine Splitting Art.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That time, only Zhang Lingzong had entered Longhu Mountain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Let’s head back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan stood at the bus stop; not a single vehicle, not even a shadow of a person, was in sight.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He walked along the road, watching his phone’s battery drain to near nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Finally, about two kilometers ahead, a faint glow became visible beside the road.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now that Zhang Fan’s Ming Gong was complete, his eyes could discern—it was a village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan stepped over the guardrail beside the road and followed the glow; in moments, he arrived at the village.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He checked his phone: only 17% battery left, the time displayed 23:58.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this hour, the village was eerily silent; every household was dark, save one house at the village’s entrance still lit.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan walked over; the doors and windows of that house stood wide open, spilling out dim yellow light.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A large yellow dog was tied in the courtyard; seeing him, it barked twice, the sound echoing through the cold, quiet night, piercingly loud.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Chapter Thirteen: Lexington’s guns fired, eight years of smoke, the king of North America...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a broadcast voice came from inside the house, accompanied by “shush-shush” electronic static.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In the thirty-eighth year of Qianlong, the Thirteen Colonies of North America long suffered under British tyranny; outside Lexington Village, a single gunshot pierced the sky, stirring heroes across the land—all thirteen states now harbored the will to resist Britain. A poem praised: ‘Why not gird on your Wu hook, and reclaim the Thirteen Colonies...’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello? Is anyone here?” Zhang Fan called from outside the courtyard gate.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>No reply came from inside; only the noisy broadcast continued.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“In the forty-first year of Qianlong, Washington with his Falling Cherry Axe, Jefferson the Master of the Brush, Stephen the Iron-Mouthed Advocate, Adams the Azure-Eyed Marksman—all gathered in Philadelphia to join the great cause against Britain...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan looked around, stepped closer to the courtyard, and circled past the large yellow dog tied in the corner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Inside the door, he realized the house was a small tavern, with only two tables—one of them missing a leg.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old counter emitted the smell of moldy wood; it looked older than his father.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Beside the counter stood a large wine vat; in olden days, people came to pour their wine—this one vat could supply all the village drunks for a full year.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At this moment, an old man sat before the vat, fiddling with a radio that looked like an antique.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hair was white; in the heat of summer he wore a long, old-fashioned robe, head bowed, as if he hadn’t noticed Zhang Fan enter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man... Old man...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan stepped forward, called twice, and tapped the counter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At last, the white-haired old man seemed to hear; he turned off the radio and lifted his head.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Huh? Young man, when did you come in?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sorry, old man, I called out earlier, but you didn’t hear me,” Zhang Fan smiled lightly. “I got lost, no bus is coming, and I’d like to rest here for a while.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sit anywhere,” the white-haired old man glanced at him, as if such lost youths were nothing unusual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan looked back; the old, shabby room had only one table left that could be sat at.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You young people... always running around all day, chasing after so many immortals.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The white-haired old man shook his head and returned to fiddling with his antique radio.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Chasing immortals?” Zhang Fan said casually.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“This is Longhu Mountain, the Daoist seat of Zhang Tianshi—once it produced immortals. Many youths like you wander the mountains late at night.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Immortals? How many immortals could there be in this world?” the white-haired old man said lightly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’ve lived here since birth—if there were immortals, why haven’t I seen any?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man, how old are you?” Zhang Fan’s heart stirred, and he asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Eighty-one.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Eighty-one!? You’ve lived here since birth?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Since the day I was born, I’ve never left,” the old man said calmly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then, after living here so long, have you ever seen any strange phenomena or heard any legends about Longhu Mountain?” Zhang Fan pressed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Strange phenomena? What strange phenomena? Young man, what you should do right now is uninstall that tomato app on your phone,” the old man said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan had no reply; the tomato app was a novel-reading app—he never expected an eighty-year-old man to know about it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But my father told me, the year I was born, Longhu Mountain suffered a disaster—those thunderbolts were terrifying, falling like pants, and later the mountain collapsed.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“After that, the village elders said the mountain had changed—it had a hole, a direct passage to the Yellow Springs. Many who entered never returned; over time, no one climbed the mountain anymore, and no Daoists came down...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Only after the founding of the nation did the locals rebuild it into today’s scenic area.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan listened, silent.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That must have been the Dao Gate Great Calamity eighty years ago.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Since then, the Longhu Mountain gate had closed; the Zhang family had left the number one Daoist mountain, and their lineage split north and south.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is anyone here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, a clear, soft voice came from outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan looked up; the old man still had his head bowed, as if he hadn’t heard.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is anyone here?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside, the voice came again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man, someone’s calling outside,” Zhang Fan had to remind him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then let her in.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Fan rolled his eyes, walked to the door, and called out: “Come in.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the night, beneath the moonlight, a slender figure approached the courtyard and stepped into the dim yellow glow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She was a woman, about twenty years old, dressed in sportswear that accentuated her fiery figure; her beautiful face silenced even the large yellow dog.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She carried a bag and entered the house.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Do you have anything to eat?” The woman walked to the table, set down her bag, sat down, and looked at Zhang Fan, asking.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh... I’m not a server,” Zhang Fan shrugged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Uh... sorry,” the woman paused, then blushed awkwardly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Old man, she’s asking if you have food.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I heard you. I’m not deaf.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The old man rose, took a dish of peanuts and a plate of pork head meat from under the counter, and brought them over.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Girl, why are you out alone at this hour? You’re a young woman—it’s dangerous.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, the old man glanced casually at Zhang Fan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s fine, I’m brave,” the woman smiled faintly, her expression warm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s all we have left,” the old man set down the dishes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“How much?” the woman asked.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Two hundred and eighty.”\u003C\u002Fp>",1479,"2026-06-19T21:05:46.332Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","fcf456022813c03bc4e0d5430752b964fc33bca8d4f74480a635a89e35bd825c","pure-yang-chapter-449","pure-yang-chapter-447",520,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fpure-yang-cover.jpg"]