Chapter 291: One Storm Unsettled, Another Arises (First of Three, Requesting Moonlight)

Baihe Port lies north of the line where the Dadu River flows north and south; Qionghai lies south of that same line. On this day, all who dwelled near the upper and middle reaches of the Dadu River witnessed a towering sword pavilion rising from the earth, its piercing sound like thunder, racing southward along the Dadu River as if a flying mountain.

The sword pavilion blazed brilliantly, thunderclaps shaking the air—Cheng Xinzhan saw it too.

He stood atop the mountain peak.

Watching the sword pavilion depart, he suddenly spoke to the boy beside him:

There will be no major disturbances in Xiao Xikang for now—the northwest has withdrawn its defenses. If you still wish to train and seek out Gangsha, you may go south to look.

The two boys exchanged glances, then Zhao Li said:

"Master, will you go with us?"

Cheng Xinzhan shook his head.

"No. I'll stay in the mountains."

Zhao Li asked again:

"Then if we go south, must we stay at Baihe Sword Pavilion—to watch over Daoist Zhou?"

Cheng Xinzhan's face darkened instantly.

"What nonsense! What 'watching over Daoist Zhou'? Where you stay is none of my concern. Go! Go!"

Zhao Li shrank his head and hurriedly pulled Bai Long away.

Cheng Xinzhan watched the two boys run off, unable to help but shake his head.

"They'll never grow up."

Then he turned to the snow lion, curled up asleep beside him, and asked:

"How is your primordial Dao injury recovering?"

The lion, feigning sleep, opened its eyes and spoke in human voice:

"Master's divine art—sixty percent restored."

The lion called him "Master" with genuine reverence. It had once believed its birthplace's earth vein had been dug up, its true body's mountain peak destroyed—its cultivation path a dead end. Yet somehow, the Master had used the Heaven-Mending Art to restore it.

This was a gift of renewed life.

On the day it escaped the white jade forest, after emerging from the stone tower, it had seen layers upon layers of Xuan sect cultivators—and knew that without Cheng Xinzhan, it would have been slain as a demon. Had its identity as Mountain Lord been exposed, it would never have lived so freely and comfortably now.

This was deliverance from peril.

Moreover, Cheng Xinzhan, to enhance the lion's divine aura, had drawn from his contemplation of the Nine Sacred Spirits and composed a special scroll: *The Nine-Headed Lion in Repose and Motion*, for the lion to study and internalize.

Beyond that, the lion was born of earth and air, absorbing spiritual energy with great potency—but utterly incapable of circulating it. Most of the spiritual energy entering its body nourished its flesh, with barely any converted into magic power. It could not cast spells, only rely on its three crude arts: roar, pounce, and scratch.

So he taught the lion some incantations and methods of qi circulation.

This was the grace of transmitting the Dao.

Since the lion's release from beneath the earth, Cheng Xinzhan had ridden it only once—right after leaving Shishan, before the Xuan cultivators. Since arriving at Kanli Mountain, he had left it entirely to its own devices, letting it sleep atop the snowy peaks, never riding it again.

Hearing the lion's reply, he nodded.

"That's quite fast."

Two years ago, after rescuing the lion, he had dispatched a projection to return to his sect—Mount Sanqing, a thousand-year great sect, the ancestral root of myriad arts. What demons, spirits, and monsters hadn't they dealt with? He went to Shennü Peak and within two days found the method to nurture a being whose foundation had been shattered.

*The Golden Vessel Unbroken Heaven-Mending Art*—a technique specifically for repairing the innate deficiencies of spirits and monsters.

Since Mount Sanqing's founding, only two Mountain Lords had ever emerged: Kuishan Lord was one; the other was the first vice-abbot of Shennü Peak, who had ascended during the Sui dynasty. This secret manual was her creation.

The technique explained how a Mountain Lord could reside upon another mountain without diminishing its lifespan, using that mountain's earth-spirit energy to heal one's own Dao injury. It also detailed how to grow a new primordial mountain to replace a destroyed original body—fully resolving the threat and cultivating a primordial magic treasure.

Over these two years, the Lion Lord had practiced this supreme method of Mountain Lord cultivation, guided by Cheng Xinzhan's teachings—how could he not be wholeheartedly devoted?

When the time comes to return with the Master to the Sanqing Immortal Mountain and plant the primordial mountain within the immortal peaks, what then remains to fear?

The lion now thought of nothing but the Master leaving this wretched place in Xikang and returning swiftly to the immortal mountain to cultivate.

"Come, today I teach you another incantation: 【Scatter】. If mastered fully, no matter what spell, technique, flesh, or primordial spirit—once spoken, all dissolves into smoke and dust."

He sat beside the lion and began teaching. The lion lay prone, listening intently. Its single head towered higher than Cheng Xinzhan's seated form; the mountain wind stirred its green mane like tender willow shoots.

————

Several days later.

From the peak of Kanli Mountain, the west remained snow-capped, frozen and bleak; but to the east, the Guangzhou Plains were bursting with spring: flowers bloomed along the Dadu River, banana leaves unfurled, willow buds sprouted—all alive.

The Spring Equinox had come.

The Spring Equinox: yin and yang in equal measure—day and night balanced, cold and heat tempered.

And simultaneously, the Dadu River, as the boundary between Guangzhou Plains and the Xikang Plateau, was cold in the west and warm in the east—also yin and yang in equal measure.

At this moment, cosmic timing and geography achieved perfect harmony in their division of yin and yang—truly fascinating.

His mood stirred, he added another page to *The Banana Leaf Collection*:

"On the peak of Kanli, I expounded the Dao to the lion for days and nights, as the Spring Equinox arrived. I felt clearly the equal length of day and night, the gradual retreat of cold, the rising warmth.

Gazing downward, the sunlit slopes showed peach and willow buds just cracking open, the earth's veins warming first; the shaded slopes still hung with ice spikes, the cold wind still sharp. Profoundly wondrous. I looked far beyond: westward, snowfields stretched, a thousand peaks crowned in white; eastward, Sichuan's valleys returned in green.

A single mountain ridge cleaved into yin and yang—truly the marvel of creation.

The two qi of yin and yang divide the heavens equally on this day, and interweave the earth's energies upon this mountain. Future generations who enter Xikang in spring must come here.

Alas, the principle of Kan and Li complementing each other is not confined to the alchemical furnace—throughout heaven and earth, it is everywhere visible, in all things!"

He closed his book and brush, preparing to return to his pavilion. The lion had high aptitude, especially in incantations—in just three or five days, it had already grasped the 【Scatter】 incantation.

At that moment, a tremendous roar came from the south.

"Boom!"

The entire Xikang Plateau trembled.

Cheng Xinzhan rose abruptly, gazing southward. At the horizon, dust rose in clouds, black masses coalescing in the sky.

The disturbance reached Kanli Mountain—far greater than the noise when the lion broke free.

Cheng Xinzhan's heart jolted. The scene before him bore uncanny resemblance to the moment years ago when he witnessed Gu Chen breaking free from Jüqu Mountain on Siming Mountain. Though he did not yet know what had occurred, a dread premonition rose within him.

Instantly, he transformed into a swift light and shot toward the black clouds.

Mountains and rivers blurred into streaks of color behind him—but soon, he sensed an aura rapidly catching up. He scanned with his spiritual sense.

It was the lion, following him.

After two years of rest, this was the lion's first departure from Kanli Mountain—and yet its speed was astonishing.

"Master, mount me."

The lion said.

Cheng Xinzhan did not hesitate. He shed his light-form, returning to his physical body, and sat cross-legged upon the lion's back.

The Mountain Lord roared—a sound that seemed to crack open the void itself—and shot forward as a streak of blue light, racing toward the black clouds.

Following the Dadu River southward, they soon reached Bai Longqi Mountain. Many had been startled and were heading south. Soon after leaving the Dadu River, he saw a vast, brilliant blue lake ahead.

That was Qionghai.

The ground trembled more violently here. Qionghai churned without wind, great waves crashing against the sky, water spilling over its shores.

On the northern shore stood a tall tower—the Baihe Sword Pavilion he knew well. But upon closer inspection, the plaque had been replaced: four large characters now read "Qionghai Sword Pavilion."

The lake's surface teemed with activity: figures everywhere, lights of flight everywhere, shouts merging into a continuous din. Above, the black clouds loomed directly ahead, still spreading, about to engulf Qionghai.

The black clouds were as thick as ink; beneath them, daylight dimmed, as if night had fallen.

At the same time, Cheng Xinzhan saw beneath the sprawling black clouds a white cloud, radiating brilliant light, illuminating a patch of sky.

"Yangming Cloud Array"—that was Ye Yuanjing's cloud.

Cheng Xinzhan recognized it instantly.

A fierce battle raged beneath it—shouts and clashing weapons never ceased.

He pressed forward, flying toward the white cloud.

The earth still shook, still boomed. Soon, he saw the source of the great disturbance.

Four hundred li south of Qionghai, at the Kangnan border, just before Dianwen—the mountains cracked open a chasm, spewing black smoke like a volcanic eruption, causing the ground to tremble. The smoke rose into the sky and did not disperse, coalescing into black clouds.

Outside the black cloud's boundary, many figures gathered, retreating steadily as the cloud expanded.

Cheng Xinzhan glanced briefly and recognized them all as Xuan sect disciples, mostly from Emei and Qingcheng, with many familiar faces from Baihe Sword Pavilion.

Of course—these days the Xuan sect had been urgently fortifying defenses along the southern border of Xiao Xikang. No wonder so many were here.

At this moment, people from Kang and Shu were surely hearing the commotion, converging from all directions.

Cheng Xinzhan's arrival atop the lion was no quiet affair—many saw him, many recognized him.

"It's Guanxuan Daoist!"

"Daoist, there's great poison beneath the clouds!"

Someone shouted a warning.

"Master!"

Cheng Xinzhan turned toward the voice and saw Bai Long and Zhao Li flying toward him. He patted the lion's back, signaling it to stop.

"Master!"

The two boys arrived, and Zhao Li spoke rapidly, like beans spilling from a bamboo tube:

"The ground suddenly collapsed, revealing a deep abyss spewing black vapor. Anyone below Golden Core who touches it dies instantly—corpse rotted, oozing pus."

Bai Long added:

"It's the Demon Cult's doing. As soon as this happened, Qionghai Sword Pavilion sent people—but the Demon Cult blocked them. We don't know who they are, but Xuan sect disciples say they're from Ailao Mountain and Wuliang Mountain."

"Daoist Ye and Daoist Zhou have already entered."

Zhao Li added again.

Cheng Xinzhan nodded and said:

"I'll go in and see. You two be careful—don't wander, don't enter. This scale isn't something a third-rank cultivator could create. If things turn bad, head north immediately—return to Kanli Mountain."

The two bowed and replied, "Yes."

(End of chapter)