Chapter 55: Reopening Longhu, the Thousand-Year Demon

The next day, at nine in the morning.

Taoyuan Square.

Zhang Fan had just arrived at the company when he noticed Bai Buran’s office door tightly shut; through the window crack, it seemed a visitor had come.

“Business at last?” Zhang Fan muttered.

If no more business came, he suspected Ye Buliang might shut down any day.

“Perfect, perfect—I can finally slack off with peace of mind.”

Zhang Fan sat at his desk, turned on his computer, and unhesitatingly opened the “yellow book” page.

At that moment, inside Bai Buran’s office, a young man in a Daoist robe pulled aside the blinds, peering through the gap at everything outside.

“Brother Daoist, you’ve got a new hire?” Cao Wushang asked without turning around.

“Cao Wushang… when you followed Baiheguan’s master to Zhenwu Mountain eighty years ago, you were still a seven- or eight-year-old child. Now you can stand on your own.”

Bai Buran leaned back in his chair, studying this unexpected guest.

“What’s this new hire’s background?” Cao Wushang asked casually.

“He’s Zhang Fan. An intern.” Bai Buran replied offhandedly.

“His surname is Zhang?” Cao Wushang turned around and sat across from Bai Buran.

“What’s so special about the surname Zhang?” Bai Buran smiled faintly.

“Throughout history, nine out of ten Daoists are surnamed Zhang, one is Li.”

“True enough.” Cao Wushang nodded.

“You’re now a top disciple of Baiheguan—what brings you to my humble temple?” Bai Buran cut straight to the point.

“Humble temple?” Cao Wushang laughed.

“Eighty years ago, during the Daoist calamity, Shensha Men was reduced to only two surviving lineages—yet you alone harbor one…”

“The traitor from Maoshan Shangqing Sect is here too…”

“And Yu Fu… back then, the Jiao incident in Sichuan and Chongqing stirred up a storm—how much effort did the authorities expend to quell the rumors… that old devil’s luck is incredible—he’s still alive…”

At these words, Cao Wushang’s gaze sharpened, his eyes holding a hidden meaning as he looked at Bai Buran.

“Brother Daoist, though your temple is small, the demonic winds here are strong.”

“Small temple, strong demonic winds; shallow water, many turtles…” Bai Buran said calmly: “That precisely proves my pond is clear to the bottom.”

“Brother Daoist, though you’ve been away from Zhenwu for years, your wit remains as sharp as ever.”

Cao Wushang flicked his fingertip and suddenly asked: “Have you seen Hai Zhu?”

“I’ve seen him—but never fought him.” Bai Buran lowered his gaze.

He knew Cao Wushang’s visit must be about the Thirteen Zodiacs.

“When false becomes true, truth becomes false; where nothing is, something still exists…” Cao Wushang said solemnly: “These demons of Wuwei Men… they can never be fully exterminated…”

At this, Cao Wushang shifted tone and said sharply: “The higher authorities have decided…”

“To reopen Longhu Mountain!”

“Reopen Longhu Mountain!?” Bai Buran’s brow twitched—his usual calm cracked, revealing unmistakable shock.

Eighty years ago, during the Grand Sacrifice, all Daoist masters gathered at Longhu Mountain, originally to summon celestial deities and bless humanity—but it became the Daoist calamity…

Nearly all the Daoist elite of that generation perished on Longhu Mountain, and many lineages vanished forever.

Since then, the Daoist world suffered a devastating blow; Longhu Mountain sealed its gates, and for eighty years, no incense has risen there.

Now, eighty years later, they plan to reopen Longhu Mountain!?

“All these unsolved cases must be answered for every sect.”

Cao Wushang saw Bai Buran’s confusion and spoke: “Back then, so many died—what exactly happened during the Grand Sacrifice…”

“The truth must come out.”

“Why now? After all these years, why choose this moment?” Bai Buran said gravely. “Is it because of Wuwei Men? Are they planning another Grand Sacrifice?”

“It’s not just because of those demons…”

Cao Wushang shook his head, glancing instinctively at Bai Buran.

“Whether a lineage survives or perishes, the seventy-third generation has its pause… Zhenwu Mountain has now reached its seventy-third generation, hasn’t it? The Ancestor foretold that the great calamity is upon us now…”

Cao Wushang said solemnly: “If Zhenwu Mountain falls, where is the Supreme Immortal?” “You fear the pillar holding up the Daoist world will collapse!?” Bai Buran’s gaze sharpened.

Chu Chaoran is the living Immortal of this age, holding immense weight in the Daoist world—a purple-gold beam supporting the heavens, a white jade pillar holding up the sky.

If Zhenwu suffers calamity, this Immortal will surely be drawn into it—and then, the entire world will descend into chaos.

“Eighty years ago, during the Daoist calamity, Supreme Immortal Chu was the sole survivor… His survival is a blessing, and now is the perfect time to reopen Longhu Mountain.”

There was another sentence Cao Wushang did not say—and dared not say: Could they possibly wait until Chu Chaoran died before reopening Longhu Mountain?! At this, Cao Wushang changed subject: “By the way, was the Zhenwu Jade Registry’s transmission ceremony recently successful?”

The Zhenwu Jade Registry was taken from Longhu Mountain by Chu Chaoran long ago; it likely holds the truth behind the Daoist calamity, and naturally, the higher authorities are watching closely.

“Probably successful—you’d have to ask Zhenwu Mountain,” Bai Buran said coolly.

“Good. The higher authorities still recognize Xia Weisheng as Zhenwu’s heir. When Longhu Mountain reopens, she may need to bring the Jade Registry there.”

Cao Wushang’s tone carried deeper meaning: he wanted Bai Buran to relay a message to Zhenwu Mountain—if Longhu Mountain truly reopens, the Jade Registry must be present to reveal the truth of the eighty-year-old calamity.

“When will Longhu Mountain reopen?” Bai Buran asked.

“Next year, the ninth day of the ninth month!”

As he spoke, Cao Wushang rose and walked toward the door.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.”

“Go well. No need to see you out.”

Bai Buran did not rise, watching Cao Wushang’s retreating figure, his gaze narrowing to a thread. He murmured softly:

“That little fox has truly become a spirit.”

Creak…

The office door opened, and Cao Wushang stepped out.

Zhang Fan, alert as a rabbit, quickly switched pages…

Eyes moving, head still—glancing sideways at the door crack… This was a skill Zhang Fan perfected in school, to evade his homeroom teacher’s “peeping ghost eyes.”

“A Daoist!?”

Zhang Fan caught a glimpse—just then, Cao Wushang, stepping out, also glanced his way. Their eyes met for an instant in midair, then both quickly looked away.

Seeing Cao Wushang leave the company, Zhang Fan turned back to Bai Buran’s office—the door still shut—and once again felt safe to slack off.

Ding…

At that moment, a cheerful system alert sounded. Zhang Fan opened his “yellow book” inbox…

“Refund notice? Hahaha! Finally got it back!” Zhang Fan rejoiced.

“Your refund of 888 yuan has been credited. Your complaint has been verified. User [Thousand-Year Demon] has been banned from posting for seven days. As an apology, we’ve gifted you a 333-yuan credit voucher for Zhenwu Mountain’s quiet retreat—please use it soon…”

“….”

Zhang Fan narrowed his eyes, opened the [Thousand-Year Demon] chat box—the 888 yuan he’d lost was finally returned.

“Huh!?”

At that moment, Zhang Fan noticed the top of the [Thousand-Year Demon] chat box displayed: “The other party is typing…”

“They replied!? Panicked, ready to curse, huh…” Zhang Fan sneered.

Earlier, he’d sent dozens of private messages to [Thousand-Year Demon] with no response—but now that the refund arrived, the other side was desperate…

Was Zhang Fan afraid?

Not at all! At the peak of the keyboard, he ruled the world—where his keyboard stood, there was heaven. Behind the screen, he feared no one.

Thinking this, he picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and waited for his great battle with [Thousand-Year Demon].

Ding…

At that moment, the other party’s message arrived. Zhang Fan glanced at it once…

Crack…

The teacup in his hand shattered. His eyes widened in shock—[Thousand-Year Demon]’s message contained only six characters:

Did you dream of Longhu?

(End of Chapter)