Chapter 66: The Yuan Shen Code, Zhang Fan

Longhu Mountain, a divine wonder, the ancestral seat of the Tianshi lineage.

Since the Daoist tradition’s inception, this lineage has held a pivotal position, unbroken through antiquity and modernity alike.

“Why does your family’s [Spirit-Engraving Palace] enshrine Longhu Mountain?” Jiang Hu couldn’t help asking.

Clearly, this was his first time here.

“Because our ancestors once took refuge under Longhu Mountain.”

At that moment, a low voice came from behind.

Zhang Fan turned and saw a middle-aged man with empty sleeves approaching.

“Qiu Zhengdao!?”

“Uncle Qiu…” Shen Qingli smiled faintly and greeted him.

As one of the Shen family’s patrons, he naturally had access to this place.

“The Shen family are Daoist priests of Longhu Mountain!?” Jiang Hu’s expression turned startled.

“My great-grandfather once served as a Daoist acolyte at Longhu Mountain…” Shen Qingli said solemnly.

“All talisman arts under heaven belong to Longhu. Had your great-grandfather not studied there, your family would never have enjoyed today’s blessings,” Qiu Zhengdao said with a smile.

The art of talismans originated when Zhang Daoling awakened on Heming Mountain; later, his methods spread across the land, with each mountain and lineage developing its own insights—among them, the strongest were the [Maoshan Shangqing], the [Longhu Tianshi], and the [Gezao Lingbao] talisman schools.

During the Yuan Dynasty, the Zhang family of Longhu Mountain gained authority to oversee all three mountain talisman lineages, and from then on, all talisman arts under heaven belonged to Longhu.

“Uncle Qiu, let me introduce you to my two friends…”

“Jiang Hu, Zhang Fan!” Shen Qingli said.

“You’re surnamed Zhang?” Qiu Zhengdao turned to look at Zhang Fan and asked.

“It’s not unusual—throughout history, nine out of ten Daoists are surnamed Zhang, one is Li,” Jiang Hu said casually.

“True enough… Zhang and Zhang aren’t the same,” Qiu Zhengdao nodded.

Boom…

At that moment, a faint tremor echoed from the inner hall, like the crackling of firecrackers.

“Uncle Qiu, wait a moment—I’ll go check if we can enter now,” Shen Qingli called out and turned away.

“This kind of treasure… really just open for anyone to view?” Zhang Fan muttered to himself.

“The [Mystic Mirror Talisman Scripture]… it’s not something forged in a moment, nor is it as fragile as the immortal artifacts depicted in operas, unable to withstand even the slightest disturbance…” Qiu Zhengdao said, watching Shen Qingli’s retreating figure.

“Have you seen it before, Master Qiu?” Jiang Hu asked.

“Do you know what a talisman is?” Qiu Zhengdao said with deep implication.

“It’s not merely a simple method to command spirits and gods…”

“It’s the Yuan Shen code—the key to unlocking heaven and earth’s mysteries.”

Qiu Zhengdao’s words brought Zhang Fan a fresh perspective.

“The art of talismans stems from the universe’s most primal twenty-eight yang characters— even the oldest pictographic scripts originated from them.”

Qiu Zhengdao said softly: “From these twenty-eight yang characters, countless talismans have been derived…”

“All things in the world evolve from simplicity to complexity, and back again…”

“So the [Mystic Mirror Talisman Scripture] is a decoder?” Jiang Hu mused aloud.

“Young friend, you truly have innate wisdom!”

Qiu Zhengdao nodded: “Each sect’s talismans number from dozens to over a thousand…”

“These form vast databases. Inputting these data into the [Mystic Mirror Talisman Scripture] might allow us to deduce the original code—and thus unravel the mystery of the Yuan Shen…”

At these words, a gleam flashed in Qiu Zhengdao’s eyes.

“That is Wuji…”

“That is the mystery of Pure Yang!”

“Can this really be done?” Zhang Fan couldn’t help asking.

“It is one among many paths to immortality,” Qiu Zhengdao said gravely. “The Ten Great Daoist sects have all walked this path deeply, each uncovering their own insights… They blend their sect’s talismans—their data—and deduce the resulting code, calling it the Supreme Secret Talisman…”

“It is the core of a lineage, its power inconceivable…”

“How powerful?” Zhang Fan pressed.

“Young man, power isn’t always measured in force… the Supreme Secret Talisman has subtler functions…”

“For example?”

“For example, sealing…” Qiu Zhengdao said gravely. “The core secrets of a lineage, the essence of its transmission—all can be sealed by it, enduring for ten thousand generations, untouched by external forces…”

“Like the True Wu Jade Tablet of Zhenwu Mountain—itself a Supreme Secret Talisman. Its contents remain inaccessible unless that talisman is unlocked…”

“Even if the Jade Tablet shatters, its contents endure, protected by the Supreme Secret Talisman.”

“The True Wu Jade Tablet!?” Zhang Fan’s brow twitched—he hadn’t imagined the thing inside him held such profound mystery.

“Even the Supreme Secret Talismans haven’t glimpsed the Yuan Shen code?” Jiang Hu suddenly asked.

Qiu Zhengdao fell silent briefly, then nodded: “The Yuan Shen code concerns heaven and earth’s deepest mysteries—it’s not easily unlocked…”

“Even with vast databases and decoding programs, you still need hardware to carry and run them.”

“Hardware? Master Qiu means…” Jiang Hu’s heart stirred—he seemed to guess.

“Talismans must be drawn on talisman paper…”

Even if ten thousand talismans merge into one and all data is restored to the original code, you still need material to imprint it and make it manifest…

“That is Spirit-Engraving!”

“Has the Shen family found such material?” Jiang Hu asked eagerly.

“I don’t know…” Qiu Zhengdao shook his head. “If they haven’t found it—or found the wrong one—the [Mystic Mirror Talisman Scripture] is a joke…”

“But even a one-in-a-million chance must be seized…”

“Because it is the Path of Pure Yang Wuji,” Qiu Zhengdao’s eyes burned with fervor.

“Does such material even exist?” Jiang Hu frowned.

“Perhaps… I’ve heard… the finest material for Spirit-Engraving… only such a material could forge ten thousand talismans into one, and produce the Yuan Shen code…” Qiu Zhengdao’s voice grew low and trembling.

“What?” Jiang Hu asked instinctively.

“A person!”

At these words, not only Jiang Hu, but even Zhang Fan’s face twitched.

“There was a madman—he toyed with life and death, manipulated hearts, controlled the seven emotions, mastered the six desires… treating others’ fates as playthings, all to forge the talisman containing the Yuan Shen code…”

“The Human Talisman!”

At these words, Jiang Hu’s breathing grew heavy, his fists clenched tightly.

“Young man, you and I are the same… his playthings, his materials, his creations…” Qiu Zhengdao’s gaze turned icy as he looked at his severed arms.

“Wu Ma,” Jiang Hu remained silent, memories of that night rising in his mind.

“Let’s go.”

Qiu Zhengdao gave Jiang Hu a long look, then beckoned the two toward the inner hall.

“Jiang Hu…” Zhang Fan called out.

“I’m fine,” Jiang Hu took a deep breath, lifted his head, and forced a smile.

“By the way…” Zhang Fan quickly changed the subject: “You just said, throughout history, nine out of ten Daoists are surnamed Zhang, one Li… what does that mean?”

“Because, since ancient times, the most powerful Daoists have often come from these two surnames…”

“Funny—I’m surnamed Li,” Zhang Fan grinned.

“Really? What’s your mother’s name?” Jiang Hu asked casually.

“Li Linglong!!”

(End of Chapter)