Chapter 578

The giant serpent of the mountains is called Huang She, though some say it is Huang She—‘Huang’ meaning emperor among serpents, or ‘Huang’ as in phoenix, for its habitat often overlaps with that of phoenixes, and it is frequently preyed upon by them. Indeed, it is intimately tied to the Immortal Tree; if it dwells beneath one, it needs only to absorb the tree’s misty spiritual qi to survive without food or water.

The Old Sky Immortal explained this to Lin Jue beneath the tree.

“So this giant serpent is truly the perfect guardian for the Immortal Tree grove?”

“What? You want one too?”

“Hahahaha…”

Lin Jue said sheepishly, “Thanks to your grace, I’ve indeed planted some Immortal Trees, and I truly lack a dedicated guardian.”

“How many have you planted?”

“More than twenty now.”

“The spiritual qi from your few trees is barely enough to feed one Huang She—you’d have to supplement with prey,” the Old Sky Immortal shook his head. “How large is your mountain? How many cattle and sheep? How many spiritual plants?”

“Only twenty-some now, but there will be more,” Lin Jue said. “Right now it’s just one mountain, but in time it will grow larger.”

“It seems your Dao awakening is nearly complete…”

“I have a master.”

“Heh, enough, enough,” the Old Sky Immortal waved his hand. “If you can play two hundred moves with me today, I’ll let you take one away.”

“Very well…”

“But I doubt you’ll make it to two hundred today.”

“Then we’ll play tomorrow.”

Lin Jue held a go stone, then suddenly frowned, as if sensing something.

Moments later, his brow relaxed, and he sighed.

“What a pity… what a pity…”

“What’s so pitiful?”

“I regret my limited talent and weak skill—I may study earnestly, yet I can never truly match your pleasure,” Lin Jue sighed. “And I regret that my Dao awakening is nearly complete; I must depart soon. Who will then sit with you, Old Immortal, after your midday nap, to play go and ease your loneliness?”

“Patak…”

The Immortal smiled as he placed his stone. “I wondered why you were distracted today—your position collapsed after only a hundred and twenty moves. Your mind was elsewhere, plotting against an old man.”

“Old Immortal…”

Lin Jue looked at the Old Sky Immortal.

“You see, I am human. Zi Di expels demons and evil spirits—I too have spent my life expelling demons and evil spirits. We have no conflict. Zi Di recklessly exterminates spirits; though I disapprove, he is the Heavenly Emperor. As long as he does not touch me or harm my loved ones, I will not oppose him lightly.”

“But how can such a principle stand? Even spirits who have done countless good deeds are not spared—families are torn apart, beautiful tales turned to tragedies.”

“Why tell me, an old man?”

“Alas…”

Lin Jue sighed, holding the go stone.

“It seems I won’t reach two hundred moves today—someone has come seeking me. I must take my leave for now.”

The Old Sky Immortal also looked toward the distance.

As if his gaze pierced through the veil between worlds, from within Yuanqiu Immortal Realm, he saw clearly what lay beyond.

“It seems your Dao awakening is truly complete,” the Old Immortal said slowly. “I shall be lonely again for a while.”

Lin Jue fell silent upon hearing this.

The Old Sky Immortal seemed unmoved…

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

“Time moves too swiftly here, Elder Immortal. I dare not delay. I shall take my leave today and return tomorrow to play go with you.”

As he took two steps forward, a voice came from behind.

“It’s rare you care enough to recommend me a human go partner. If they’re willing, let them come in and play a few games with me.”

Lin Jue’s eyes lit up instantly.

He stepped forward, swept his sleeve—and with a thunderous crash, a hole opened between this place and the outside world.

Boom—boom—

Whether due to the season’s rains or divine aid, from Jiangnan to Huizhou, over a thousand li, the journey was blessed with favorable winds and unceasing thunder!

The woman rode lightning and wind, floating through the air like a dandelion seed. When tired, she rested; when weary, she slept in mountain caves. But because she flew too slowly, and needed time to rest, recover, and bandage her wounds, the monk kept chasing her relentlessly from behind.

Until they reached Feilai Mountain.

Rain and thunder still raged; Qingshan blurred into shadows, even the white walls and blue tiles along the riverbank turned gray in the downpour.

The woman, clutching the official, descended from the sky.

But this was merely an ordinary mountain—the ferry crossing was empty in the rain, bamboo rafts bobbed alone, and even the riverside villagers stayed indoors. Where was any immortal?

Time in Yuanqiu Immortal Realm passed too swiftly—no hesitation, no delay. Between Lin Jue’s last two words, the monk had already caught up.

“Demon! Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, I shall capture you! Surrender at once!”

A monk stepped forward across the river, braving the rain.

The official stepped before the woman; she pulled him behind her—and in an instant, they clashed again.

The woman was pregnant, wounded, exhausted from flight—how could she possibly match him?

“Vajra Subduing Demon…”

The monk raised one hand, still mid-chant, when he suddenly sensed something wrong.

Amidst the stormy clouds and thunder, a colossal seven-tailed white fox leapt through the air. Its gaze, casual yet piercing, locked onto them like lightning.

In the next blink, a figure stood before them.

A man in plain white Daoist robes, appearing young, his robe faded and worn, held a paper umbrella.

The Daoist stood before the official, bending slightly, holding the umbrella over him.

Gu Mr. had just fallen here—he stared, astonished, at this familiar figure.

The woman beside him also widened her eyes.

“You…”

Gu Mr. stared fixedly at him.

“I’ve replayed seventeen games with you in your dreams. Thank you for your guidance—we have finally met.”

The Daoist held the umbrella.

Gu Mr. remained astonished; the woman was uneasy.

Clearly, this was no ordinary spirit or phantom conjured in dreams—he was a true immortal.

“Immortal, please save my husband and me!”

“Immortal, aid me!”

“Who are you? Why block me from exorcising this demon?” The monk behind them, with sword-like brows and starry eyes, shouted loudly, then slammed his palm downward. “Vajra Subduing Demon Seal!”

Golden light surged from wind and rain, forming a colossal golden palm that crashed down from the sky.

Yet it vanished silently, dissolving into nothingness amid the storm.

Yet it drifted away silently in the wind and rain, vanishing into nothingness.

The monk was stunned.

He focused his gaze—and saw the Daoist helping the man to his feet, turning to face him.

“Master, you are a monk. Why so violent, so bloodthirsty?”

“I am Abbot Bao Lin of Wuwo Temple, disciple of Zhenru Master, grand-disciple of Yun Chan Master. My Vajra Subduing Demon Seal harms only demons, ghosts, and evil spirits—not humans. If you are human, this palm cannot touch you. If you are not human, how can you accuse me of violence?”

“Yun Chan Master…”

“Precisely!”

Bao Lin was not surprised—his grandmaster had once been a Junior Minister of the Gathered Immortal Bureau, overseeing Jiangnan affairs. Any cultivator, odd talent, or spirit in this region would know his name.

“So you mean killing spirits and demons isn’t killing?”

“Exterminating demons and evil spirits upholds the righteous Dao, conforms to heavenly law—it cannot be called violence!”

The monk’s face was stern, unwavering.

Lin Jue, seeing this, could not help but sigh.

How long is a hundred years?

In one sense, it is but a blink in history, a hundred days of sleep for the Old Sky Immortal in Yuanqiu Immortal Realm—hardly any time at all for Lin Jue.

But for the mortal world?

Zi Di has ruled the Nine Heavens for over a hundred years. To many common folk, he is already the Heavenly Emperor “since ancient times.” His philosophy has taken root in human hearts; many have grown up hearing it, accepting it as equally ancient truth.

In the previous dynasty, humans coexisted with spirits and demons—temples housed benevolent ghosts lost after battle; monks did not drive them away. Foxes dwelled in abandoned homes near city dwellers; people lived beside them. Many literati befriended fox spirits, finding it elegant. Even the Zhu Yi people were originally spirits, revered by mortals. In this dynasty, such things are unthinkable.

The lost good ghosts were not driven away; foxes dwelled in the abandoned homes of Beijing’s neighbors, and the people lived alongside them. Many literati befriended fox spirits and considered it elegant. Even the Red-Robed One had originally been a spirit, revered by people. But in this dynasty, such things could never happen again.

But today’s matter is even more unusual—

In the Old Sky Immortal’s former illusion, Zi Di’s second purge of demons began indiscriminately, yet mostly targeted minor spirits. Great demons like this woman were not within the purge’s scope. Moreover, with the secret struggle between Yu Jian Emperor and Zi Di, the southern purge was even weaker. Logically, they should have been safe.

Elsewhere, this was true: Zi Di’s purge was vast in scope but light in force, targeting mostly minor spirits and ghosts.

Yet reality had diverged greatly.

Luo Gongceng appointed Yun Chan Master as Junior Minister of the Gathered Immortal Bureau out of trust and concern for the people—but later, as emperors imitated him, this led to the Buddhist sect’s rise.

The struggle between Zi Di and Yu Jian Emperor intensified.

As a result, in reality, the southern purge of demons split into extremes.

Yu Jian Emperor almost never responded to Zi Di’s edicts; the Buddhist sect, however, acted with great zeal—even targeting great demons.

Jade Mirror Emperor rarely responded to the Purple Emperor’s edict, but the Fomen was highly proactive, exerting great force—even targeting great demons.

“Are you, Master Daoist, siding with demons and defying the Heavenly Laws?” the monk asked in the rain.

“My wife has never harmed a soul—how can she be called a demon?” Mr. Gu shouted back immediately.

“She is a fox, but not a demon. Though I’ve had little contact with the couple, meeting only her husband once a year, I’ve known them for many years and know they are generous and kind, having saved countless lives during the earlier course change of the Changhe River,” Lin Jue said, holding up his umbrella. “Before you come here with your grand righteousness to slay her, have you looked at yourself? How many lives have you saved in this lifetime? How many good deeds have you done?”

“Enough talk! If you side with them, you’ll have to answer to this monk’s Buddhist power! Golden Dragon!”

The monk chanted a spell and pushed forward with both hands.

Golden light flared again through the rain curtain!

A loud dragon’s roar rang out as a golden dragon, as thick as a water jar, shot from his hands, fangs bared and claws extended, straight toward Lin Jue.

But the fierce golden dragon shrank with every inch it flew—by the time it reached the Daoist’s face, it had dwindled to the thickness of a chopstick, barely a faint wisp of golden mist.

Without a sound, the mist vanished entirely.

“You little monk, daring to strike me?” Lin Jue merely looked at him and flicked his hand.

Boom!

Without a sound, without movement—not even the rain curtain above bent, nor a ripple stirred in the puddles on the ground—the monk, who had been so arrogant moments before, was flung backward, flying several zhang through the air before crashing into the mud.

“Cough… Immortal… Seven-Tailed Fox… Are you… Master Lin?”

“I am indeed surnamed Lin. I was an old friend of your ancestral master, Master Yunchan.”

“Master Lin…”

Even though the monk’s heart had been resolute, hearing that name made his eyes widen in stunned silence.