Chapter 449

A thousand-year-old temple, before the ancestral master’s seat.

The bright moonlight streamed through the doorway, falling into the hall like a river of silver, spilling between the two of them.

“North Zhang…”

Zhou Zhou’s gaze never wavered from Zhang Fan; her delicate face returned to its usual calm as she asked with interest, “How do you know I’m a North Zhang disciple?”

“At this hour of night, a girl appearing alone in the wilderness is already unusual.”

“Either you’re exceptionally skilled and bold, or…” Zhang Fan paused.

“Or what?” Zhou Zhou asked.

“Lacking common sense.”

Zhou Zhou smiled faintly: “Even so, that doesn’t prove I’m a North Zhang disciple.”

“Fate, though unseen, always leaves traces.” Zhang Fan suddenly said.

“Beneath Longhu Mountain, before the ancestral temple, your presence here is no coincidence…”

“When I said you were a North Zhang disciple, you didn’t deny it—that means you are one.”

In truth, Zhang Fan had another unspoken thought: from the moment they met, he had sensed a fragrance on her—a scent ordinary people could never detect, like incense in a temple, the unique aroma only North Zhang disciples possess after sealing a god and erecting a statue.

Only Zhang Fan, who had opened his spiritual platform and entered the Zhai Shou realm, could perceive this incense aura.

In other words, the woman before him, Zhou Zhou, was not merely a North Zhang disciple—she was a master who had sealed a god and erected a statue.

“Zhao Jiexuan truly lives up to his name; no wonder he made such a name for himself at the Dan Yuan Dharma Assembly.” Zhou Zhou smiled slightly, unable to help praising him.

At this moment, her appearance grew even more radiant, as if merging with the bright moonlight, revealing everything without concealment.

“My surname is Zhang; I’m Zhang Suxin.”

“You may also call me Zhou Zhou—my family does.”

“Zhang Suxin… Suxin… a North Zhang disciple who sealed a god and erected a statue!?” Zhang Fan’s gaze sharpened to a thread: “Do you know me?”

“Zhang Wuming has made quite a name for himself in Xijiang Province, unifying scattered cultivators and stealing the spotlight at the Dan Yuan Dharma Assembly, claiming the top blessed land. Your name naturally reached North Zhang.” Zhang Suxin smiled lightly.

“Who could have imagined that someone who never received the ancestral master’s favor, never sealed a god or erected a statue, could wield such power?” Zhang Suxin sighed.

In truth, when North Zhang originally ordered Zhang Wuming to return, it was merely to probe the depths of Xijiang—they held no expectations for him.

Yet when reports of Xijiang’s affairs reached North Zhang, the entire sect was stirred.

Only then did they truly take notice and send someone to investigate the details.

“Since ancient times, heroes are not judged by origin. Didn’t the Three Corpses Daoist also never seal a god or erect a statue?” Zhang Fan said calmly.

At these words, Zhang Suxin’s gaze hardened sharply, studying Zhang Fan with deep meaning.

“You know more about our Zhang family than I thought.”

“The ancestral master does not bestow empty titles… Longhu Zhang claims to be a divine clan, yet rigidly divides ranks, distinguishing insiders from outsiders…” Zhang Fan sighed.

“Thus, the gate grows ever higher, heaven and earth apart—how can the Dao be transmitted? How can the incense be sustained?”

Zhang Fan sighed softly, standing before the ancestral master’s seat, his shadow swaying in the moonlight as if merging with the clay statue of the Dao Ancestor.

Zhang Suxin froze, her eyes growing distant.

“Since ancient times, the Dao is not lightly transmitted—not because techniques differ in rank, but because human hearts differ in good and evil.” Zhang Suxin said calmly.

Hearing this, Zhang Fan’s eyes brightened, a faint, elusive smile appearing on his face.

“Not sealing a god or erecting a statue means weak talent and insufficient immortal affinity—but if one can forge a new path, transform calamity into fortune, then one’s spiritual power is boundless.” Zhang Suxin continued.

“Immortals are made from mortals; it’s only that mortals lack steadfast will.”

“Perhaps those who never sealed a god or erected a statue are not neglected by the ancestral master—they are born of fate, enduring such trials and tribulations precisely because they are destined for greater heights. If they break through and rebuild, their achievements are limitless…” Zhang Suxin sighed.

“Too bad, these people fail to understand heavenly destiny and the ancestral master’s intentions. In all these years, Zhang family has produced only one Three Corpses Daoist.”

“Thus, it is only natural they never sealed a god or erected a statue.”

“Tsk tsk, you’ve got a perfect logical loop.” Zhang Fan chuckled: “No wonder you’re a North Zhang disciple—you’ve got such insight.”

“Longhu Mountain has a worthy successor.”

“Huh!?” Zhang Suxin frowned, unable to help saying: “You’re young—looks more like you could be my little brother. Why do you speak so old-fashioned?”

“Little brother?” Zhang Fan blinked, then laughed silently: “I don’t have a sister.”

“Really? Then who else is in your family?” Zhang Suxin asked.

“Are you probing my background?” Zhang Fan said sharply.

“Yes, I am.” Zhang Suxin didn’t hide it at all.

“You shone brilliantly at the Dan Yuan Dharma Assembly—you’re no ordinary person. My return to Xijiang was not only to meet Zhang Wuming, but also to investigate your background.”

“You’re remarkably honest.” Zhang Fan smiled.

Before him, Zhang Suxin showed absolutely no concealment—whether from open-hearted sincerity or sheer confidence, he could not tell.

“Huh!?”

Suddenly, Zhang Fan’s brow lifted; his gaze swept past Zhang Suxin and saw, in the corner of the dilapidated hall, another altar…

The altar stood empty, yet the spirit tablet before it remained standing.

Zhang Fan paused, walked over directly, and saw on the half-broken spirit tablet:

Primordial Great Calamity, Ten Directions, Myriad Spirits, Three Corpses Spirit Tablet!!!

“Three Corpses Spirit Tablet!?”

Zhang Fan frowned, his expression turning strange: “Why is a Three Corpses spirit tablet enshrined inside the Dao Ancestor’s temple?”

“It seems you don’t know everything about our Zhang family,” Zhang Suxin’s voice came from behind him.

“Please enlighten me,” Zhang Fan said humbly.

“The Nine Methods are supreme; the Three Corpses govern fate. Since ancient times, only three lineages in the world have practiced this method—including our Zhang ancestral master.”

As she spoke, Zhang Suxin gazed at the Dao Ancestor’s altar, her expression reverent.

“This altar is not empty.”

With those words, she reached out and pulled Zhang Fan aside.

The pale moonlight fell into the hall, and the Dao Ancestor’s shadow fell precisely upon the side altar.

The shadow resembled the enshrined immortal deity.

Only then did Zhang Fan see: on the wall behind the altar was a strange mural…

“Three Palaces!?”

The human Three Palaces: the Upper Dantian, the Yuan Palace—depicted in the mural as a mountain.

The Middle Dantian, the Jiang Palace—depicted as a cauldron.

The Lower Dantian, the Xuan Palace—depicted as a furnace.

These Three Palaces hold the secret to immortality.

The Dao Ancestor’s shadow fell upon the altar, aligning perfectly with the mural’s Three Palaces, connecting and interweaving, radiating a mysterious, eerie aura.

“This Master Tianshi temple was likely built by our Zhang ancestors,” Zhang Suxin suddenly said.

“It’s said that on Longhu Mountain, there is another temple like this, with a similar layout—this one must be a replica.”

After the Daoist Great Calamity, the Zhang family split into northern and southern branches; Zhang Suxin is likely a fourth-generation disciple.

Thus, what happened on Longhu Mountain could only be glimpsed through oral accounts from elders and ancient secret texts.

“The human Three Palaces hold the secret to immortality… the Three Corpses…”

Zhang Fan stared at the Dao Ancestor’s clay statue’s shadow, merging with the mural’s Three Palaces—so profound, so mysterious—he became entranced.

“I heard the ancestral temple of Wuwei Gate has a similar layout,” Zhang Suxin said, her voice tense.

Along the central axis of Wuwei Gate’s ancestral temple lie the human Three Palaces; since ancient times, they have been guarded by the Three Palaces’ Masters, and no outsider may enter.