Chapter 558: The Purple Emperor Cleanses the Demons

Moss-covered ancient paths, gentle winds stirring mist, amid blooming mountain flowers, birdcalls came from somewhere unseen.

Foxes leapt among the flower-laden branches, the colorful fox following the humans with a hop and pause, the three walking and chatting along the ancient trail.

“What did Master Luo leave in his letter?”

“Merely three admonitions to his descendants,” said Master Luo. “First, honor the Southern Celestial Master; after his hundredth year, enthrone him as Emperor and set an example by worshipping him. Second, warn them to be firm and unyielding—never surrender land or seek marriage alliances, not even before the gods. Third—”

Master Luo lifted his head slightly.

Foxes think differently from humans; when there’s a path, they refuse to walk it, preferring to leap among branches—now perched on a nearby peach branch, lowering its gaze to meet his.

“I foresaw you, Daoist, would come to fetch me today with Fuyao. Since rumors of you and Fuyao have spread across the world, I had the nine-tailed fox declared, two years ago, another auspicious beast alongside the dragon and phoenix—so future generations would continue to revere it, never branding it a demon.”

“Master Luo, you’ve thought deeply.”

Lin Jue kept walking, his thoughts unceasing.

Over these years, though he never spoke plainly, Master Luo was no fool—he understood Lin Jue and Fuyao, had long secretly clashed with the Purple Emperor, and after so many years, how could he not know of Lin Jue’s feud with the Purple Emperor?

This was a double-edged sword.

It might help the nine-tailed fox, yet also further provoke the Purple Emperor.

But the impact likely wouldn’t be great.

After all, even the true dragon and divine phoenix, revered as auspicious beasts by mortals and held in the highest esteem, were not truly cared for by the Nine Heavens.

“Your abode here is truly serene,” Master Luo surveyed around, envious. “Spring blooms carpet the ground, summer offers shade and coolness, autumn brims with fruit, winter drapes it in silver—four seasons wreathed in immortal aura, untouched by worldly turmoil. Truly, the immortal paradise mortals dream of.”

“We’ll see if you can endure it,” said Lin Jue. “It’s quiet, yes—but no palace servants to attend your meals. The disciples cook, but only simple tea and plain fare. I wonder if you’ll still find it palatable.”

“Do you take me for some pampered softling?” Master Luo laughed. “Give me two mu of land, one mu of field—I’ll learn from the old generals who fought beside me, lay down my armor, return to the soil, and live in quiet joy.”

“Is not all under heaven Master Luo’s land?”

“Hahaha…”

As they reached the trail’s end, a towering mountain rose before them, its sheer cliff face vertical and immense, clouds clinging only to its midsection—yet atop the cliff stood numerous ancient, elegant pavilions and halls, ancient pines jutting from branches, immortal trees radiating spiritual light, long corridors linking them all, blending with mountain flowers, mist, and immortal trees into a breathtaking, surreal scene.

Master Luo had visited before, but each time only briefly, and after long intervals, he still felt awestruck.

“Your abode here rivals the imperial palace in grandeur.”

“Master Luo flatters me.”

At that moment, figures flew down from the cliff—Wan Xinrong, Tao Daochang, and the three disciples Xu Yi, Pu Mei, and Xian Zhu.

Then a boy emerged from the woods, carrying a bundle of firewood, seeing his newly sworn, still unfamiliar master arrive with a guest, while his senior disciples and guardians came to greet them—he looked curious yet bewildered.

Seeing his newly sworn, still unfamiliar master arrive with a guest, all his senior brothers and sisters and the guardians came to greet them, leaving him curious yet at a loss.

Wan Xinrong, Tao Daochang, and Qu Ren had fought shoulder to shoulder with Master Luo; among them, they knew him best. Now all elderly, their cultivation high, and old friends, they no longer saw emperor or subject—only grinned and bowed with ease.

Even Wan Xinrong remarked: “Your Majesty, state affairs must be exhausting—you’ve grown so old.”

All had drunk the Crimson Spring water from Yuanqiu Immortal Realm; now they bore youthful appearances, while Master Luo, though he ate Yuanqiu fruit, had not drunk the Crimson Spring—his hundred-plus years showed in his aged face.

Master Luo only chuckled, waving his hand: “I can’t compare to you, who train with immortals.”

Luo Gong also chuckled, waving his hand as he replied, “I can’t compare to you folks training under an Immortal.”

The two guardians, Jia Qiaozi and Cai Lingyu, bowed more respectfully.

The remaining two guardians, Jia Qiaozi and Cai Lingyu, would be more respectful.

The three disciples bowed even more reverently.

A rustling sound.

The boy’s firewood tumbled to the ground, scattering into a pile, his expression frozen as he stared at the emperor in plain robes.

“Come, come—I’ll introduce you,” Lin Jue said first, pointing to Master Luo and his junior sister. “This is Master Luo—he has retired from below, come to the mountain to cultivate with us. He’s an old friend of mine; you must show him utmost respect. This is my junior sister—call her Shu.”

“Come, come, let me introduce you,” Lin Jue said first pointing to Luo Gong and the junior sister, “This is Luo Gong—he has retired from his post below the mountain and come here to cultivate in peace with us. He’s an old friend of mine; you must show him proper respect from now on. This is my junior sister—call her Master Shu.”

He hailed from the prominent Wang family of Heng Village—how could he not know the world now belonged to the Luo clan? He’d loved fairy tales since childhood, admired Master Lin, how could he not know the founding emperor of this dynasty had once been Lin Zhen’s guardian? He knew the current emperor was wise and mighty—his civil rule aside, his martial feats ranked among history’s greatest: repelling Dazu, reclaiming the Western Regions, expanding the Central Kingdom’s borders beyond any prior dynasty.

Yet he never imagined that on his very first day here, he’d meet the greatest man under heaven.

And now this man would cultivate here.

“Master… Your Majesty…”

“Shu…”

The boy stammered.

“Don’t be formal,” Master Luo chuckled. “I’ve abdicated—I’m no emperor now. Just a lonely old man, with no kin or ties left in this world, come here with the Daoist to cultivate in peace, waiting for death!” He lowered his gaze. “Better yet—tomorrow I’ll chop firewood with you!”

“No need to be formal. I’ve abdicated—I’m no longer emperor. Now I’m just a lonely old man, with no loved ones or ties left in this world, come here to cultivate in peace with the Daoist priest and wait for death!” Luo Gong chuckled at him, then lowered his gaze. “Why not, tomorrow, I’ll go chop wood with you?”

Wang Ran didn’t know her—but she had known him first.

“This is my new disciple, Wang Ran. He’s the descendant of Old Master Wang of Heng Village, Huizhou, who once aided me. He came alone to find me—we have a karmic bond, so I accepted him.”

“This is my newly accepted disciple, Wang Ran. He is the descendant of Old Master Wang of Heng Village in Huizhou, who once saved me. He came here alone, and we were destined to meet—so I took him in.”

Both nodded.

Lin Jue pointed upward, to a mid-level pavilion on the cliff face.

Beside it ran a winding corridor leading straight to the tallest, largest pavilion in the center.

“Many years ago, when I first took Xian Zhu as my disciple, I had her repair this pavilion—waiting for Master Luo,” Lin Jue said. “Knowing you lack cultivation, and that age may weaken your legs, I deliberately didn’t build it higher.”

“I may look old, and my martial skill faded, but climbing stairs is still no trouble.”

“Hah!” Lin Jue laughed. “If you wish to leave the mountain, you may ride my paper donkey, the stone horse of Hongye Pavilion, or my Thunder Cloud. I’ll give you a token—shout ‘Shen Lei Yun’ and a cloud will descend beside you.”

“And mine, the Five-Colored Auspicious Cloud,” said the junior sister, pulling out another token. “Here’s the token.”

Two tokens were placed in Master Luo’s hands.

One was forged of spirit-gold—small, exquisite, yet heavy and cold; one side bore the character “Lin,” the other “Shen Lei Yun.”

The other was carved from stone essence—the concentrated spiritual essence of the mountain, looking like jade, feeling as smooth and warm as jade, yet more spiritually vibrant; its size and shape matched the first, but far more finely crafted—she was a master of stone carving. One side bore the character “Liu,” the other “Cai Yun.”

The other side was made of stone essence—the kind of stone where the mountain’s spiritual essence gathers, looking like jade, feeling as smooth and warm as jade, yet even more spiritually refined. Its size and shape were much like the other piece, but far more exquisitely crafted, since she was a master of stone carving. One side bore the character “Liu,” the other the two characters “Caiyun.”

“You needn’t leave,” Lin Jue said. “If you wish to contact your descendants without stepping out, you may send dreams.” He gestured. “Don’t look at me—I can send dreams, but I’m no deity; I can’t draw talismans or lend divine power. But I can recommend a deity who excels at dream-sending—you may borrow her power to send dreams to the palace.”

“You don’t have to leave the mountain. If Luo Gong wishes to contact his descendants but doesn’t want to travel, he can send dreams.” Lin Jue said, “Don’t look at me—I can send dreams too, but I’m no deity; I can’t draw talismans or lend my spiritual power to others. But I can recommend a deity to Luo Gong—she excels at dream-sending. He can borrow her divine power to send dreams to the palace.”

“Moon Mirror Cave Illuminating Yuanjun.”

“Hah…”

They exchanged glances again, and smiled.

Master Luo settled in.

Perhaps tilling soil truly runs in the blood—he found several flat patches by the mountain stream, patiently cleared and turned them into fields, diverted water, and began spring planting.

He sent dreams, requesting the newly enthroned emperor to send him several sets of clothing—plain, modest, durable cloth robes—and brought his old spear, which he now occasionally wielded in idle moments, seeking the old feeling of charging on horseback, spear raised, slaying demons and warring across the land.

His treasured blade, being ancestral, he left to his descendants. Though he knew they’d likely never produce another warrior worthy of it, he hoped they’d preserve some martial skill and martial spirit, remembering the path this realm had taken.

As for his treasured blade, since it was family heirloom, he left it to his descendants. Even though he knew that after his descendants became emperor, it was unlikely another warrior or general worthy of the blade would ever arise, he still hoped they would preserve some martial skill and martial spirit, and remember the path this world had taken.

He often joined Lin Jue to admire flowers, play chess, brew tea, and ferment wine, discussing mortals and the Purple Emperor—drinking until drunk when he wished, laughing freely when he pleased, singing loudly when inspired, sleeping when weary.

No one dared collect taxes here; food, clothing, warmth—all assured. Only freedom, ease, and tranquility remained.

To spend one’s twilight years thus—with an old friend beside you, having known grandchildren, having ruled the mortal realm—this was the fullness of life.

Yet who was comforted, besides Master Luo?

Lin Jue, too, benefited from his presence—gained much freedom!

News from beyond the mountain kept arriving—

Rumors spread that the emperor, in his old age, had been taken by immortals to an immortal mountain, living in bliss.

Rumors said the new emperor had ascended and pardoned all under heaven.

Also heard: the new emperor lacked his predecessor’s strength; he himself was truly elderly. The drought in Wuzhou had gone unrelieved; floods erupted in Zhongzhou. When asked, the court officials had no silver to spare.

Natural disasters brought chaos, and chaos bred demons.

Once peaceful for decades, in many regions, the young had come to see demons and spirits as mere legends—now they reappeared in the disaster zones.

Fortunately, the current Heavenly Elder was not the old one; the Nine Heavens’ deities now worked diligently.

The Purple Emperor would not tolerate demons’ chaos—he dispatched troops to descend and purge them.

And seizing this moment, he ordered all imperial lords to send their true lords, spirit officials, heavenly soldiers, and divine generals—launching a sweeping campaign to purge demons and eradicate evil across the entire mortal realm.

The Purple Emperor would not tolerate demons and monsters causing chaos, so he sent troops down to besiege and exterminate them.

And precisely taking advantage of this moment, he ordered all Imperial Lords to dispatch True Lords and Heavenly Soldiers, launching a sweeping campaign to purge demons and exterminate monsters across the entire mortal realm.