Chapter 574: Come Here to Seek the Dao

Beneath Feilai Mountain, spring waters remained emerald green, reflecting the blue sky and white clouds.

More than a hundred years had passed since the mountain suddenly flew here; during this time, aside from occasional strange occurrences, it showed no sign of leaving. As years passed, bold souls began building houses and clearing farmland along the riverbank beneath the mountain—but only there, never too close to the mountain, let alone upon it.

Thus, a few more households appeared along the shore, their white walls and blue tiles mingling with scattered peach blossoms, all mirrored in the spring water.

Lin Jue no longer needed to conjure a long beard to obscure his face, for so many years had passed that even the second purge of demons and monsters had begun, and almost no one in the world remembered his appearance—

Even Nan Tian Shi, who had eaten the Yuanqiu fruit, was now dead.

Those who had seen him in the capital had long since entered reincarnation—even more than once.

Thus, Lin Jue calmly crossed to the opposite shore, found a patch of wasteland beneath Feilai Mountain, built a wooden hut, and sat in quiet meditation.

Luo Gongceng, since arriving at Fengshan to cultivate alongside him, had remained an old man, his face growing ever more aged; in contrast, Lin Jue, his junior disciple, his two disciples, and several guardians who were old acquaintances of Luo Gongceng had all drunk the Red Spring Water and retained their youth, making him seem strangely out of place.

Lin Jue had long wished to obtain more Red Spring Water for him.

Moreover, he had recently taken two new disciples, now growing older, yet none had drunk the Red Spring Water; his third disciple, Xian Zhu, was fine—she was a demon, her appearance unchanged—but his youngest disciple looked older than any of them.

How could this be allowed?

Yet this was only his secondary goal.

His main purpose was still to seek the Dao—

Since attaining truth and realizing the Dao, he had studied magical arts and divine powers, comprehended the profound mysteries of the Dao, especially after unlocking “Life and Death Creation”; he could now become a Great One at any moment. Having personally touched one Dao, he drew nearer to its profound mystery, and could see other Daos with greater clarity.

All magical arts and divine powers in the world derived their secrets from this.

And these were the ultimate limits of magical arts and divine powers.

One could say that every magical art’s end held a Dao, or that every Dao could at least give rise to one supreme divine power and countless lesser techniques.

Lin Jue knew many magical arts and divine powers, and at this moment their value became clear: through mastery of techniques, he understood the Dao; through complexity, he sought simplicity—so he could perceive many Daos, and with sufficient time and effort, he might unlock the supreme divine power within one.

But after studying several, he felt no firm confidence they could kill, defeat, or block the Fuchi Divine Lord.

So he chose another—

The faint mystery he had sensed when he once wandered into the Yuanqiu Immortal Realm.

That was the origin of the Yuanqiu Immortal Realm.

The creation of an otherworldly grotto-heaven.

This Feilai Mountain was the passage between the external world and the Yuanqiu Immortal Realm, the bridge between heaven and earth and the beyond—here, surely, lay mystery.

Thus, Lin Jue came here to cultivate, to see if he could grasp this mystery and unlock this divine power.

The number of visitors here now exceeded those of the past.

Yet with one breath, the fox concealed the wooden hut; most often, Lin Jue sat inside meditating earnestly, while the fox transformed into various forms and played wildly outside. Sometimes Lin Jue walked along the riverbank to relax, while the fox curled up inside the hut, deep in cultivation and sleep.

After an unknown length of time, a clinking sound came from across the river.

The Daoist and the fox both awoke, looked up—and saw that a temple was being built on the opposite shore.

Suddenly, a sense stirred within him; he went to investigate.

The temple was just beginning construction, only a frame stood, no plaque, no statue; before he could ask whose temple it was, a curious passerby beside him spoke up:

“What kind of temple is this?”

A man in official robes answered: “The Emperor’s Temple!”

The passerby asked: “Which Emperor?”

“The Emperor Who Monitors Heaven and Subdues Demons!”

“Isn’t that Nan Tian Shi?”

“You can’t call him Nan Tian Shi anymore—he’s now the Emperor Who Monitors Heaven. He is a heavenly emperor who descended to purge demons, rescue the world, and restore order for over a hundred years. Now that his mission is complete, he has returned to heaven and resumed his title as Emperor. The court has ordered temples built for him throughout the land.”

“Then why build it here?” someone asked. “No village ahead, no inn behind.”

“It was personally designated by Dai Tian Shi.”

“Why?”

“Because this place has spiritual energy.”

“What kind of spiritual energy? Feilai Mountain?”

“You clearly don’t know,” the official chuckled. “Before Dai Tian Shi joined the Gathered Immortals Mansion, he traveled through Huizhou and purged demons here. Later, after returning from Jiangnan, he passed through again, recalled his past, and met Lin Zhen, who offered him Red Spring Water to drink—since then, he has remained youthful. That’s why, even now nearing a hundred, he still looks young.”

“True or false? So now Dai Tian Shi is the Mansion’s Chief?”

“Who else could it be? He was originally the Deputy Chief of the Gathered Immortals Mansion, and was personally appointed by the Emperor Who Monitors Heaven before returning to heaven.”

“…”

No one noticed that among the crowd, a Daoist with a fox turned and walked away.

“Marvelous…”

The Daoist shook his head, smiled, and looked down at the fox.

“Miaowah…”

The fox also shook its head, replying to him.

Without sound or trace, man and fox dissolved into a gentle breeze and returned to the opposite shore.

Yet, as soon as his foot touched the ground, Lin Jue frowned—he sensed, in the depths of his being, a trace of Daoic mystery.

This mystery was precisely what he had been seeking these past years.

He looked up—

As expected, the world before him had transformed utterly.

The once merely peculiar Feilai Mountain had risen ten thousand zhang, towering into the clouds, its peak crowned with ancient pines, a Red Spring, and a white waterfall.

He turned back—the spring water was still the same, emerald green, but the ferry, bamboo rafts, visitors, and homes along the riverbank had vanished, as if returned to a time ten thousand years past. The farmland and fields beneath the mountain had turned into countless Yuanqiu ancient trees, shimmering in the sunlight.

Turning back, the spring water was still water, brilliantly green, but the ferry, bamboo rafts, tourists, and homes by the river had vanished, as if returned to its state tens of thousands of years ago. The farmland and fields below the mountain had also turned into ancient Yuanqiu trees, shimmering in the sunlight.

The fox turned its head, scanning all around, then looked up at Lin Jue.

But Lin Jue stood motionless, firmly grasping that moment of mystery, deeply contemplating it.

Until a distant, aged voice called from the mountains:

“Why have you come here again?”

Lin Jue snapped back to awareness, reluctant to leave:

“Respected Immortal, your humble disciple merely cultivated and contemplated beneath Feilai Mountain, unintentionally intruding upon your peace.”

“Immortal Elder, your humble servant merely cultivates and gains insight beneath Feilai Mountain, unintentionally intruding upon your seclusion.”

“If you, as you are today, invited me in, I would come to visit you—and perhaps ask for some Red Spring Water.”

“If Immortal Elder were to invite me in as you have today, I would come to pay you a visit, and perhaps beg for a bit of Crimson Spring.”

The aged voice laughed heartily, then asked: “You say you came to visit, yet now that you’re here, why stand at the door?”

Instantly, thunderclouds gathered beneath Lin Jue’s feet.

The fox leapt lightly, landing atop the thundercloud.

A clap of thunder, and the cloud, trailing a long tail, soared diagonally upward, crossing the towering mountain ahead and entering the endless peaks and forests.

A bamboo hut, a small courtyard—the Yuanqiu fruit was in bloom.

The old Immortal wore simple cloth robes, his hair disheveled, resembling an elderly man just awakened from a midday nap, adjusting his clothes; upon seeing Lin Jue, he said:

“I first thought your Phoenix Feathers were depleted and you’d come begging again. Then I thought the world had changed, and you wanted to see my realm once more. Then I suspected you sought more Red Spring Water. I even wondered if you simply came to visit old me, ha! But I never imagined you came to steal my divine power?”

“I came here to seek the Dao.”

“At first I thought your Phoenix feathers were exhausted, so you came to beg more from me; then I thought it was the changing world, and you wanted to see my place once more; then I thought you came again to beg for Crimson Spring; even I wondered if you simply wished to see the old man—ha! But I never imagined you came to steal my divine arts??”

“There is mystery here.”

Lin Jue maintained a measure of reverence.

Whether this was theft or realization was hard to say.

Consider a martial artist whose swordplay is wondrous; if another steals his sword manual, that is theft. If he spies on the man practicing, that too is theft. But if the swordsman idly swings his blade once, and another sees it, finds it wondrous, cannot forget it, and returns home to ponder deeply, meditating until he gains insight—does that count as theft?

What if, when the swordsman swung his blade, he left a mark—a sword intent—on the ground at his doorstep, and the other man came there, contemplating that mark? How would you judge that?

It’s like a martial artist with wondrous sword skills—if someone steals his sword manual, that’s theft; if someone sneaks to watch him practice, that too is theft. But if the swordsman idly swings his blade, another sees it, finds it wondrous, returns home, cannot sleep, ponders deeply, reflects, and gains insight—does that count as theft?

“Hehehe,” the old Immortal adjusted his robes. “My divine power is called Heaven-and-Earth Creation—it can recreate heaven and earth. You wish to use it to trap the Fuchi Divine Lord?”

“Precisely.”

“I’ve retired for many years—I can no longer aid you. If the Purple Emperor comes knocking, this old body of mine won’t withstand him.” The old Immortal waved his hand, paused slightly, then added, “But an old man, secluded from the world, cannot help but feel lonely. If you’re willing, and you know chess, come here every twenty-first day of the first lunar month to play a game with me, keep me company, and I’ll offer you fruit and tea.”

“I will.”

The chess here meant only chess.

Yet Lin Jue was in his prime, the perfect time to comprehend Daoic mysteries; with his talent and the old Immortal’s openness, each entry and exit from the Yuanqiu Immortal Realm became a chance to deepen his understanding of this Daoic mystery.

This was, in truth, already a form of aid.

“Shall we play a game now?”

But Lin Jue was at his prime, the perfect time to comprehend the mysteries of the Dao; with his talent and the Old Heaven Weng ’s unhidden revelations, each entry and exit from the Yuanqiu Immortal Realm was a moment of insight into that profound Daoic mystery.

The old Immortal waved his hand, and a boy brought forth a chessboard and tea.

The two began to play.

The fox split into two—one sat obediently at Lin Jue’s feet, wary of the old Immortal, his boy, and the mountain behind them that could rise at any moment; the other ran off, sniffing here, peering there, observing the unfamiliar surroundings, and teasing the rare birds and beasts of the mountain.

After fifteen minutes—

“Humanity produces chess masters generation after generation, even ones who can play against heaven,” the old Immortal said wearily. “Go learn. Guest dismissed.”

The fox split into two: one sat obediently at Lin Jue’s feet, watching warily the old immortal, his attendant, and the mountain behind them that could rise at any moment; the other ran off, sniffing here and there, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings, then teasing and playfully harassing the rare birds and beasts of the mountains.

Fifteen minutes later—

“Human generations have always produced chess masters who can even play against Heaven—go learn,” the old immortal said helplessly to him. “See him out.”

"I've taken note. I take my leave."

Lin Jue was equally helpless.

Were those legendary go masters of the world truly playing against the very "Heaven" standing before him?

He could see ten thousand years in a glance, transforming the entire world into its state centuries ahead in an instant—how could he possibly compete against such foresight?

Yet Lin Jue had two advantages—

First, he had a thick skin; he felt helpless, not ashamed.

Second, he understood his purpose: he was here to pass the time. Playing well was fine; if not, he would simply fill the gaps with conversation.

The two foxes flanked him, one on each side, as he stepped out.

As he departed, the temple across the river had already taken basic shape.