Chapter 555: A Single Jiazi

“Last night, in the second half of the night, it sounded like thunder?”

“Was it thunder? I thought someone was setting off fireworks in the middle of the night! The noise was so loud—if I hadn’t been so tired, I’d have gotten up to see!”

“It must’ve been fireworks. Where would thunder come from in winter?”

A group of Daoists walked out of the alley, where several women were discussing nearby.

On the street, several vendors had gathered to talk:

“They say the Immortal Emperors above are cleansing impurities on New Year’s Eve—recently, our area has had more filth than usual! Now it’ll be much cleaner next year!”

“I heard thunder last night too—I thought it was fireworks, got ready to get up and look, then heard someone shouting, ‘Mercy, Lady Yuanjun!’ I knew right away something was wrong and immediately lay back down!”

“Lady Yuanjun? Which Lady Yuanjun?”

“Which one? Look at the Wind-Stabilizing Temple in town—how many Lady Yuanjuns are there?”

“Did you see her?”

“I didn’t see anything!”

“Why not go look? There’s a god there—what are you afraid of? You might even gain blessings!”

“Can ordinary people just look upon gods? Haven’t you heard the story from the north about someone who saw the True Dragon? One glance and his eyes went blind! If I saw the true form of Lady Yuanjun, my frail body couldn’t withstand it—even if I didn’t go blind, I’d lose years of my life!”

The group of Daoists walked past them.

The Daoists looked at them with amusement; they, in turn, stared curiously at the Daoists, watching them leave.

Lin Jue withdrew his gaze and turned to look at the Lady Yuanjun beside him.

The Lady Yuanjun stared straight ahead, expressionless.

Even ahead, passersby and tea drinkers in teahouses were still talking about it.

After all, thunder in winter was rare; yesterday and today had both been clear, making it even stranger—and such a massive thunderclap had never occurred in Yangzhou before.

The younger disciples listened with great interest, faces beaming, eager to lean in closer.

Who doesn’t enjoy hearing others talk and boast about themselves?

Though they hadn’t personally caused last night’s events, they had witnessed them firsthand, and their master’s and uncle’s deeds were tied to them too; adding in their minor roles, they could truthfully say it was partly theirs.

Lin Jue had heard too much of this before.

“Brother Two, you’ve cultivated a Golden Core—haven’t you fulfilled your heart’s desire yet?” he asked his brother beside him as they walked.

“Not yet. This Golden Core has already fallen into the mortal realm,” Brother Two replied, now as composed as an old Daoist. “Besides, this Golden Core came entirely from Brother’s efforts. My true heart’s desire lies not here, but in finding my own path to the Golden Core Dao, and cultivating my own Golden Core.”

“Your ambition is higher than many genuine Golden Core sect Daoists living deep in the mountains.”

“It’s just a heart’s desire—probably unattainable. But one must set it high, or it’s not worth pursuing.”

“After cultivating this Four Directions, Five Elements Golden Core this time, have you gained any insight?”

“Only a little. Compared to the Golden Core Dao, compared to the ancient sages who first pioneered it, it’s negligible.” Brother Two sighed.

“No matter. Brother has already achieved true enlightenment—plenty of time remains to study further.” Lin Jue paused. “By the way, how have you progressed with the Divine Glory Rebirth Golden Core I gave you long ago?”

“One ingredient in that Golden Core has vanished entirely. I asked Brother One and Sixth Brother to consult several spirit mediums on Mount Tou, and they all said it’s gone.” Brother Two shook his head. “I’ve been researching how to substitute it with other materials or cultivate new ones, but it’s unlikely we can replicate it again.”

"One of the ingredients in that Golden Core has gone extinct. I asked Senior Brother and Sixth Brother to consult several spirit mediums on Mount Tou, and they all said it’s no longer available." Second Brother shook his head. "Lately I’ve been researching how to substitute it with other materials or cultivate new ones, but it’s unlikely we can reproduce it."

Lin Jue nodded, slightly disappointed.

After so many years, he still remembered his promise to Fan Tian.

The group of Daoists slowly left the city.

“Friend, please don’t see us further. These past years, thank you and Jade Mirror Emperor for your care.”

On the mountain path, no one was ahead or behind; they exchanged simple farewells. Jiang Zhao merely nodded, then his figure vanished. The Daoists split into two groups—one riding a dark cloud crackling with lightning, the other a blessed cloud glowing with five-colored radiance—and ascended into the heavens.

Along the mountain path, no one was ahead or behind. They exchanged brief farewells; Jiang Zhao merely nodded, then his figure vanished. The many Daoists split into two groups—one riding a dark cloud flickering with lightning, the other a auspicious cloud radiating five-colored light—and ascended into the heavens.

The Yuanqiu Immortal Tree on the mountaintop had grown to a man’s height, but without immortal care or qi nourishment, even with Wan Gong and others tending to it meticulously, it showed no sign of blooming or fruiting.

The original dan guo trees on the mountain had also stopped growing.

Only when the immortals returned and immortal qi stirred once more did the dan guo and yuanqiu trees regain their vitality.

By then, the mortal emperor had reigned for many years; his princes and princesses had grown from children into adults, then into middle-aged men and women.

Those who had once followed him to conquer the realm, who had borne his children, who had dared to argue with him in court or scheme against him in secret, had all grown old and were beginning to pass away one by one.

The emperor, utterly confident no one could shake his throne, and having consumed immortal fruits to extend his lifespan, ensured that his founding ministers—both strategists and generals—became among the rarest in history to die peacefully in old age.

Those who had once followed him to build his empire, who bore him children, who dared argue with him on the imperial court or scheme against him in secret, were now old, and one by one they began to pass away.

This emperor, utterly confident that no one could shake his position and blessed with extended lifespan from consuming immortal fruits, ensured that his founding ministers—whether strategists or generals—became among the rarest in history: founding heroes who all met peaceful ends.

Compared to the illusion, the emperor showed more patience: he allowed his son to oversee state affairs and told him,

“Don’t rush. When the time comes, Master Lin will descend on blessed clouds to take me—I shall depart to freedom and not delay your ascension as emperor.”

This news spread throughout the court.

Then it spread halfway through the capital.

The emperor guessed it was the crown prince’s doing, but merely smiled, and when his old friend—the one who never aged—came to visit, he told him the story as a joke.

“How is it that fathers and sons in this world can never be like they were as children?”

This was a common lament of the emperor.

When the emperor next visited Fengshan, the dan guo and yuanqiu trees on the mountaintop were in full bloom.

The dan guo flowers were bright yellow; the yuanqiu flowers, pale pink bordering on white, hung thickly on every branch—just as the spring breeze swept across the land, blending beautifully with the myriad other flowers on the mountain, creating a delightful sight.

At this moment, the famed Master Lin of the mortal world looked like an ordinary old farmer, nearly identical to his eldest brother; the only unusual thing was the water bottle he carried, its contents seemingly endless. As he tended his trees, he advised the emperor: even on the frontier, one must know moderation; the realm, too, must rest and recover.

The fruit tree’s blossoms were brilliant yellow; the Yuanqiu tree’s were pale pink, nearly white, hanging thickly from the branches—just as spring breeze swept across the land, and

In Hengcun, Huizhou, a boy had just finished listening to an elder’s tale of divine magic, enchanted and spellbound, when he remembered his family’s stories of ancestors who had met immortals. He searched his home and truly found, tucked beneath a wardrobe, a delicate wooden box containing a talisman.

The famed Lin Zhen of the mortal world now looked like an ordinary old farmer, almost indistinguishable from his Senior Brother; the only unusual thing was the water flask he carried, its contents seemingly endless, as he tended his trees and urged him: even expansion must have limits; the world too must know tension and relaxation, rest and renewal.

Carefully watching the talisman, nothing happened.

In Heng Village, Huizhou, a boy had just finished listening to an elder’s tale of immortal magic, enchanted and spellbound, when he suddenly recalled stories his elders had told of their ancestors’ encounters with immortals. He rummaged through his home and truly found, tucked beneath the bottom of a wardrobe, a delicate wooden box containing a talisman.

The boy muttered softly, thinking it was a trick—when suddenly, a voice came from behind:

“I’m Chen Niu!”

The boy jumped, turning around.

There, floating in midair, was a small brown spirit, appearing about four or five years old, pale and plump, dressed in a brown little robe, wearing a round brown cap with a small brown ball on top, and rosy cheeks on either side—yet his face was stern as he stared fixedly at the boy.

The boy, both excited and terrified, asked: “Can you… can you lead me to the immortals? The legendary Master Lin!”

The spirit stared at him, silent for a moment, then suddenly pointed toward the door:

A small brown spirit hovered in midair, appearing about four or five years old, with soft, pale skin, dressed in a tiny brown robe and a round brown cap topped with a small brown ball. On each cheek were faint rosy blushes, yet his face wore a solemn stare fixed upon him.

And so began a long journey.

Along the way, he endured countless storms, snows, bandits, demons, and ghosts—adventures and wonders—until, a year later, he reached Fengshan. When he looked up, the layered, shadowed mountains stretched endlessly like an impenetrable barrier; had he been the boy he was a year ago, he would have felt awe. But now, his heart was resolute.

Unknowingly, the small tree Xu Yi had planted in the mountains had grown into a great tree; its blossoms no longer bloomed beside him, but above his head. For some varieties, it was already an ancient tree.

The Wang family boy, upon reaching the deep mountains, realized this place was a true paradise.

All manner of mountain flowers—pink, red, yellow, white, pale purple, light blue—mostly bloomed without leaves, lush and scattered, adorning the entire forest in grand, awe-inspiring beauty.

Unnoticed, the sapling Xu Yi had planted in the mountains had grown into a great tree; its blossoms no longer bloomed at his side, but overhead—already, for some varieties, qualifying as ancient trees.

The Wang family boy only realized upon entering the deep mountains that this place held such a hidden paradise.

All manner of mountain flowers bloomed—some pink, some red, some yellow, some white, some pale purple, some light blue—most flowering without leaves, lush and staggered, adorning the entire forest in a magnificent, awe-inspiring display.

It was a thicket of trees and brambles, thick with mountain mist.

Whoosh! A sudden wind blew, parting the mist; the thicket and brambles vanished, revealing a path.

It was an ancient road, overgrown with moss and carpeted with fallen petals, rarely trodden. On both sides stood countless fruit trees and mountain flowers; fallen petals nearly buried the path entirely. Tall and short trees, pink and red, stood firm in the wind, petals still falling like rain. The spirit floated ahead, pointing toward the deep path.

This scene resembled the immortal tales he had heard.

But there were many kinds of immortal tales—some true, others tricks by demons or monsters to deceive or harm.

The boy hesitated briefly, picked up a stick, and stepped onto the ancient path, murmuring as he walked:

“I wonder who built this path…”

Yet there were many kinds of immortal tales: some truly involved encounters with immortals; others were merely tricks by demons to deceive or harm people.

The long-abandoned mountain path, lined with flowers, finally welcomed a young seeker from his homeland, a descendant of his ancestors—and a guiding spirit.

The scene was strangely beautiful.

“Go this way!”

The boy kept glancing back; the boy and spirit grew farther and deeper. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept in, and mist rolled over the path, obscuring the flower-strewn trail once more.

At this moment, exactly sixty years had passed since the founding of this dynasty.

As in the illusion, since the eldest and second brothers had cultivated true enlightenment, for a long time, none of the other brothers of Fuqiu Temple had achieved enlightenment.

Without the Great Yin-Yang Method, without Lin Jue’s Yuanqiu fruit, at this point, some brothers would already have begun to wither away.

At this point, exactly sixty years had passed since the founding of this dynasty.

Just as in the vision, after Senior Brother and Second Senior Brother achieved true cultivation through alchemy, none of the other senior brothers at Fuqiu Monastery attained true cultivation for a long time.

Without the Great Yin-Yang Method and Lin Jue’s Yuanqiu fruit, several senior brothers would already have begun to wither away by now.