Chapter 450: North Qian Xuan, South Ling Zong! Zhang Fan's Spirit

Mountain wilderness, small tavern.

Zhang Fan is like having a great dream, the long night, like a brief moment.

Ancient temple, god platform, Daoist Ancestor, Three Corpses, bronze mirror, Dharma sword...

Those he has seen, heard, touched, thought, and imagined... everything is like reality, without a shred of falsehood.

However, when he recovers his clarity, he is still in that wild village small tavern, beside him is Zhang Suxin, and before him is the white-haired old man.

There is still a plate of peanuts and half a plate of pig head meat left on the table.

"You broke the 【Floating Life Dream Realm】!?"

A look of deep solemnity appeared on Zhang Suxin's pretty face, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on Zhang Fan.

The Floating Life Dream Realm is a unique means after 【Sealing Gods and Establishing Statues】; such a dream, although false, is almost the same as reality.

Because everything in the dream is true, reflecting one by one into reality.

Ordinary experts, once trapped in the dream, let alone unable to wake up, after a long time, they will become part of the dream, the Nascent Soul transforming, no longer real.

"Young man, you are truly extraordinary, unexpectedly able to see through this floating dream."

The white-haired old man stares coldly at Zhang Fan, his voice rhythmic, stirring up strange frequencies.

"Worldly affairs follow the flowing water, life is a big dream..."

Zhang Fan whispers: "Back then, Lu Zu had a yellow millet dream, borrowing the false to cultivate the true, only then having that mysterious realm, the flow of land immortals."

"False as true, true is also false, body in the dream, dream in the body."

Zhang Fan's experience just now is true, yet it is also a great dream.

Man in the dream, dream in the man's body, mysterious, wonderful, and extraordinary.

That is a great Dharma that seizes life and death, yet it is also a wonderful technique for cultivating longevity.

As his words fall, the white-haired old man's gaze narrows into a line, surprise carrying a trace of solemnity.

"Young, yet having such cultivation and bearing, the principles realized to this extent..."

"Truly a formidable successor."

"In this way, you already know who I am?"

Zhang Fan's gaze becomes sharp, looking at Zhang Suxin, then at the white-haired old man.

"Who are you? Aren't you Zhao Jiexuan?" Zhang Suxin says lightly.

"You found me first, and didn't go to Zhang Wuming, which means you came with the answer." Zhang Fan says lightly.

"Mind is sharp, clear as fire." The white-haired old man sighs: "Zhao Jiexuan..."

"So, you are truly a South Zhang disciple!?"

"My name is Zhang Fan!"

"Zhang Lingzong is my dad!"

As soon as these words are spoken, the white-haired old man is silent.

Zhang Suxin's eyes light up, re-examining Zhang Fan.

"Great Lingzong King... the Great Lingzong King who is on par with Qian Xuan uncle!?"

Not to mention the grievances between the north and south Zhang families, just mentioning the name 【Zhang Lingzong】, in the land of North Zhang, no one does not know, no one does not know.

If one says that Zhang Lingzong is the strongest existence among the third-generation disciples of South Zhang.

Then, Zhang Qianxuan is the number one person among the third-generation disciples of North Zhang.

North Qian Xuan, South Ling Zong.

These two knew each other in their youth; that year, the Zhang family north and south gathered together to hold the 【God-Sealing Great Ritual】.

At that grand meeting, the Zhang family north and south pulses only produced two superior Daoist titles, one called 【Lingzong】, one called 【Qianxuan】.

From that day on, the fate of the two like mortal enemies began.

Even later, when the Southern Zhang was annihilated and Zhang Lingzong took Zhang Nanfeng and Zhang Sheng to wander the Jiang Hu, Zhang Ganxuan followed like a shadow, engaging in several life-and-death battles.

Those baptisms of blood and wind made these two third-generation disciples of the Zhang family transform rapidly, until today.

"The embers of the Southern Zhang... he is the son of the Great Lingzong Wang!?"

Zhang Suxin stares at Zhang Fan, her beautiful face revealing curiosity.

As a fourth-generation disciple, she did not experience the years when north and south coexisted, nor did she know the grievances of the older generation.

However, strictly speaking, she should count as Zhang Fan's distant cousin.

"Zhang Fan... you are the grandson of Second Master Zhang." The white-haired old man looks at Zhang Fan, his gaze scattered, whispering.

"You know my grandfather?" Zhang Fan's heart moves, unable to help but ask.

"My name is Zhang Mengsheng; before your father was even born, I already knew your grandfather," Zhang Mengsheng said in a deep voice.

Although the Zhang family transmitted north and south separately, they lived in harmony for a long time, especially the second-generation disciples who had many dealings; they harbored the same dream, hoping that one day they could reopen Long Hu Shan and continue the glory and honor of this thousand-year immortal sect mansion.

"That was a peaceful and harmonious time, although there was a north-south division, there was no north-south difference..." Zhang Mengsheng says trance-like.

"Originally born from the same root, how can one pen write two Zhangs."

"Originally born from the same root?" Zhang Fan laughs: "One pen cannot write two Zhangs, so you stabbed in the back, killed my South Zhang disciples, and destroyed my South Zhang clan?"

"What a 'originally born from the same root'."

The cold voice echoes in the small tavern.

Zhang Suxin is silent; in North Zhang, this history is rarely mentioned.

For fourth-generation disciples, this is a taboo topic; they know very little, only knowing that the South Zhang pulse took the wrong path, practiced reverse Dharma, was not tolerated by the world, and North Zhang was cleaning up the sect for the Ancestors and sweeping away evil.

"The events of that year... there was also a lot of controversy in the clan..." Zhang Mengsheng sighs.

Back then, there were many opposing voices in North Zhang, not advocating for reckless killing; one must know, since ancient times, fighting among brothers must lead to inauspiciousness.

But the voices of these people were ultimately suppressed by the main battle faction with a tough attitude and iron-blooded means.

At that time, Zhang Mengsheng also opposed it.

"Personal will is ultimately unable to overcome the rolling great trend." Zhang Mengsheng sighs.

"What a rolling great trend." Zhang Fan sneers: "Isn't it internal ambition and external strong support?"

In Zhang Fan's view, North Zhang wanted to use this opportunity to win the orthodoxy of Long Hu Shan, and just so, Bai He Guan extended a helping hand at this time.

He cannot forget that the white crane personally said that it dug out Zhang Tiansheng's heart.

"You were also there when South Zhang was destroyed?" Zhang Fan looks at the old man before him and asks coldly.

"I was."

Zhang Mengsheng nods, seeming unwilling to recall this past.

"That night... no one wanted to recall... blood flowed like a river, staining the Pearl Lake red..."

"I was seriously injured in that great battle, and in the end, your grandfather spared my life." Zhang Mengsheng sighs.

The South Zhang pulse had many experts, and he thought he was bound to die, but in the end, Zhang Tiansheng did not take his life.

Perhaps, by that time, this alternative genius of the South Zhang pulse was still thinking of past favors.

Zhang Suxin hears this and cannot help but look up.

She knows that Zhang Mengsheng has dark illnesses, and for many years, his cultivation has not advanced but retreated, otherwise, with his seniority, how could he be sent on this trip!?

"Grandfather was really merciful." Zhang Fan says indifferently, yet his words carry sharpness.

"Your grandfather was a pure idealist... actually..."

Zhang Mengsheng stops talking, but finally says: "If it weren't for him, the South Zhang pulse might not have walked this path."

The South Zhang pulse wanted to use the power of the whole clan to create an expert who refined the 【Three Corpses Illumination】 to sit on the throne of the Wu Wei Sect Master.

This plan had been shelved for many years and could not be pushed forward, but because of Zhang Tiansheng's sudden appearance, South Zhang saw hope, from which the root of the clan's destruction was buried.

"To realize this ideal, he could abandon everything, extreme madness." Zhang Mengsheng sighs in a deep voice.

"Old thing, are you still setting me up?"

Suddenly, Zhang Fan's brows lift, his gaze shattering like cold stars, and the surrounding scenery dissolves like ink.

Looking again, where is there any small tavern, not even that lonely village.

Mountain wind is biting, in the wilderness.

Looking up, the great moon hangs high, and around there is only weeds and gravel everywhere, a dim yellow lamp hanging on a crooked neck tree.

Pfft—

Zhang Mengsheng's face is miserable, and blood overflows from the corner of his mouth.

"Uncle-Master."

Zhang Suxin's expression changes suddenly, hurrying forward to support him.

"Formidable successor, truly a formidable successor."

Zhang Mengsheng's face is pale as paper, the light in his eyes dim, staring fixedly at Zhang Fan, unable to help but shake his head and sigh.

Boom— ===== CHAPTER 451 =====