Chapter 29

The wine resembled fruit wine; apart from the condensed essence of sun and moon energy, its remaining flavor held no strong alcoholic bite, instead carrying mostly the fragrance of fermented fruit, subjectively tasting sweet.

“This is a wine brewed by mountain spirits, primarily using kiwi fruit, along with rare and exotic fruits, called Thousand-Day Wine.”

“Why is it called Thousand-Day Wine?”

“There’s a legend about this Thousand-Day Wine among the villagers below the mountain,” said the old Daoist, sitting cross-legged, his voice calm. “A woodcutter from below climbed the mountain to chop firewood. He rested beneath a massive ancient tree, never intending to cut it down—it was too big to fell anyway. He simply didn’t want to hold his axe, so he drove it into the trunk, hoping to embed the blade. But when he struck, the tree wasn’t solid—it continuously oozed out green, exquisite wine. The wine already contained spiritual energy; anyone who smelled it couldn’t resist. So he took a sip, immediately fell into a drunken stupor, and didn’t wake up until three years later.”

The Daoist paused. “Afterward, the legend of Thousand-Day Wine spread among the villagers below. Yet no one expected the mountain spirits actually adopted this name.”

“So that’s what Thousand-Day Wine is.”

Lin Jue couldn’t help but freeze—thankfully, he hadn’t drunk any.

“Do you practice cultivation?”

“Respected Daoist, I’ve studied the Qi-Nourishing Method.”

“Then when you drink, remember to go slowly—use your breathing and guiding techniques to absorb the spiritual energy, guide it into your body, and don’t let it disperse freely,” said the Daoist. “This wine itself is extraordinary. Now that the Mountain Lord has added his own collected essence of sun and moon, ordinary people who drink it gain merely basic physical strengthening and longevity enhancement. For martial cultivators, most can ascend to a higher level; for Daoist practitioners, it greatly aids the initial stage of cultivating Qi and transforming it into spirit.”

“Thank you for the guidance.”

The Daoist smiled faintly, offering no reply, but turned to the girl beside him: “Drink less. Just drink—I’ll assist you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

The girl spoke as well, her tone deeply respectful.

Night fell swiftly; firelight illuminated the mountain peak. The Thousand-Day Wine had been distributed. The Mountain Lord raised his cup—not to toast anyone, merely taking a sip first.

This was a signal. The other spirits, unable to suppress their primal urges, immediately bowed their heads and drained the wine from their bamboo cups in various ways—some even swallowed the entire bamboo cup along with the liquid, leaving nothing behind.

Lin Jue, by contrast, was exceedingly refined.

He lifted the bamboo cup, inhaled its fragrance, feeling a cleansing sensation from his nasal passages to his chest and abdomen, then, as the Daoist advised, took only a cautious sip.

It was indeed sweet, with the fragrance of fruit, yet not as sweet as it had smelled.

The alcoholic taste remained mild.

But immediately afterward, a pure spiritual resonance unfolded within his body, transforming into qi, filling every space from his mouth to his throat to his belly, with a sensation of spreading outward.

“!”

So pure a spiritual resonance.

Lin Jue was just an ordinary person who had only just begun practicing the Qi-Nourishing Method, barely understanding the spiritual resonance of heaven and earth, barely even entered the gate—yet he had never experienced such spiritual resonance before.

No wonder the spirits were so obsessed with it.

But at this moment, Lin Jue dared not entertain a single extra thought—he immediately followed the Daoist’s advice, breathing deeply as he did during meditation, drawing the energy inward, preventing it from leaking out through his seven orifices and pores, and carefully storing it.

This spiritual resonance differed from the ethereal, elusive Five Qi—he could clearly perceive its presence.

“Hmm…”

Lin Jue took another sip.

Since the alcohol content was so low—capable of intoxicating one for a thousand days and preserving life for that long—it clearly wasn’t alcohol that enabled this effect. Combined with its fresh fruit flavor, even without its special spiritual resonance, the wine tasted exceptionally fine.

At the same time, he felt the gazes from all around.

They came from the spirits who had already finished their wine—seeing him still drinking, they involuntarily turned their eyes toward him, instinctively filled with longing and greed.

So many spirits, such a setting, the sun having set—those gazes alone could chill a man to the bone. Yet Lin Jue, aware of the Mountain Lord’s authority, felt no fear; instead, he felt as if he had stepped into one of the strange tales he’d once heard, a strange wonder rising within him, making his tasting of the Thousand-Day Wine even more leisurely.

The Mountain Lord waved his hand. A monkey opened another jar—still filled with Thousand-Day Wine—and distributed it for everyone to drink freely, though no longer infused with the Mountain Lord’s unique essence of sun and moon.

The sky grew dim, clouds burned to ash, leaving only a dreamlike gradient of colors along the horizon, impossible to describe in their splendor. On the mountain’s peak, the bonfire still burned, casting the shadows of countless spirits into the eyes of all.

The Mountain Lord, slightly intoxicated, pulled out a book.

“This is the Yin-Yang Dao I spent many precious items to obtain from Qiyun Mountain—perfect for us spirits! All of you are spirits born of Yin-Yang energy. With this, if you can comprehend it, you need no longer rely on instinct to absorb Yin-Yang energy! Most of you have known me for a long time—you know I’m generous, always sharing good things with you. And we spirits, ah, we live such hard lives. Since you’ve all come today, I’ll share the first chapter with you for joint study!”

Hearing this, the spirits turned their gazes away from Lin Jue, who was still sipping his wine, and fixed them on the Mountain Lord, their eyes still gleaming.

“I shall read it to you:”

“Heaven gives birth to the Five Qi; Earth bears Yin and Yang. Day and night alternate; the four seasons cycle—all are the Way of Yin and Yang…”

“…”

“Yang is movement; Yin is stillness. Yang is hardness; Yin is softness. Without Yang, nothing forms; without Yin, nothing transforms. Yin and Yang interact, and all things endlessly generate…”

“...”

All the spirits stared, eyes wide open—whether reflecting the central fire or already gleaming, they fixed their gaze on the Mountain Lord without blinking.

Each spirit strained to listen intently; many, unable to understand, scratched their heads and ears in frustration, yet dared not distract themselves or miss a single word, like the best students in the world.

As a result, atop the peak, only the wind, the fire, and the Mountain Lord’s recitation could be heard—not a single other sound.

Lin Jue, among them, undeniably sensed the spirits’ extreme thirst for learning—an ultimate yearning and craving for knowledge and the Dao.

Naturally, Lin Jue listened attentively as well.

This was the teaching of the Yin-Yang Dao.

It explained the essence of heaven and earth’s Yin-Yang energy.

In a short chapter, the Mountain Lord finished quickly.

Even after his final word faded, silence remained. No one added more wood to the fire as it burned low. The spirits sat motionless, waiting, their thirst for knowledge unquenched, their eyes still fixed on the book even after the Mountain Lord set it down.

Much time passed. Only when they realized nothing more would follow did they reluctantly lower their heads.

Yet all of this rested on the fact that the vast majority of them had understood nothing.

How many students among the humans below could match their dedication?

For a moment, Lin Jue too felt deeply shaken.