Chapter 584

“What a pity for this Mount Tian...”

Third Master, covered in wounds, stood atop the clouds, gazing at Mount Tian—once perpetually blanketed in snow, now still burning with roaring flames—and recalled the past:

“I remember decades ago, I rode a jade horse with Princess Hua beneath Mount Tian. It was midsummer, the sky above white with snow, holy and majestic, while below, distant green stretched out—but when we drew near, the grasslands bloomed with countless wildflowers. Truly serene...”

It was the tale of a wandering Daoist and a woman in red robes.

“What a pity for the old Ancestor’s palace and these snow lotuses—such fine houses, such fine crops,” sighed First Master, looking down. “And what a pity for these heavenly soldiers and the bean warriors.”

“The oldest of these snow lotuses have grown for a thousand years already,” said Second Master.

This was the sorrow of an old farmer and an alchemist.

“Thank you, three friends,” said the Old Ancestor of Mount Tian, no longer the lazy, plump figure of old, equally grief-stricken. “Without you, I would surely have been captured today.”

“Ancestor, please bear your sorrow with grace,” said First Master. “The Purple Emperor is resolute in eradicating demons. The Nine Heavens’ divine spirits will not abandon their pursuit of you after one failure. You must either follow us back to Qianshan, or find another place to hide—either way, you cannot remain here.”

“There’s no choice...”

The Old Ancestor of Mount Tian was heartbroken, and gestured to his children: “Quickly, bring out all the stored snow lotuses and give them to our friends.”

“Ancestor, you’re too kind.”

The three did not refuse.

The remaining thousand-year snow lotuses were quickly brought forth.

There was not much left.

Yet the three did not mind the small amount, for thousand-year snow lotus was merely one of many ingredients for the Four Directions and Five Elements Golden Core. Though precious, because the Old Ancestor of Mount Tian loved cultivating them, they were among the easier ingredients to find. Far harder to obtain were things like swallow’s egg incense, earth-spirit pills, or thousand-year fire ginseng—these were rarer still, and might vanish entirely—perhaps even before these thousand-year snow lotuses were used up, swallow’s egg incense, earth-spirit pills, and thousand-year fire ginseng would be gone from the world forever.

Many Golden Core formulas had vanished this way.

“Ancestor, please do not completely uproot the remaining snow lotus roots on Mount Tian. When my younger brother completes his seclusion and awakens his supreme spiritual power, he may yet restore them to their former glory.”

“Farewell, friends! Take care!”

“Ancestor, you too, take care.”

As the three parted, they exchanged glances—each bore wounds.

No wonder he was the True Lord and Martial God of the North!

Though the Long Snake Divine Lord lacked the peerless elegance of the Floating Pool Divine Lord, his combat strength far surpassed that of the former Heavenly Warden’s True Lords. The three of us, working in concert, barely managed to eke out victory.

On the other side of Mount Feng, two Daoists, Luo Gong, and an increasingly aged man in a flowery robe walked slowly along the ridge of a high mountain, a cultured horse following silently behind.

The entire world was green.

The grass was like silk, so fine it flowed like water; when the mountain wind blew, it rippled, tracing the shape of the breeze.

“The world today is truly different,” Lin Jue sighed. “In our youth, what kinds of tales of demons, ghosts, and immortals circulated? Mostly scholars buried in books encountering foxes from neighboring homes; literati drunk on night paths meeting lonely female ghosts; upright officials living alongside spirits; immortals befriending mortals as equals...”

Fu Yao turned to look at him at the word “fox.”

“But now...”

Lin Jue paused to let the wind blow across his face:

“Now the most common tales are of humans and demons falling in love, torn apart by heavenly law; upright officials who dare not fear ghosts, yet are denounced by their peers for too much contact with demons; and somehow, the celestial spirits now seem above mortals—no one knows when this shift began.”

“It began with the Purple Emperor.”

The man in the flowery robe, with a dog’s head, spoke—but paused, then defended the Purple Emperor:

“Still, the mortal realm is far more peaceful now. Demons and ghosts grow ever rarer, good or bad. Many common folk have never seen a demon or ghost, only heard of them in stories; some no longer believe they exist. When they do encounter one, regardless of intent, they’re terrified. Ha! In this regard, the Purple Emperor’s achievements are not insignificant.”

“Indeed...”

Lin Jue nodded.

Reflecting on this era versus the time of the former Heavenly Warden, the contrast was stark—

During the former Heavenly Warden’s reign, he was idle and indifferent; even in times of peace, demons and ghosts were still seen. Many demons and ghosts, enamored with mortal splendor and civilization, came to live among humans in cities. There were even absurd cases of demons and ghosts transforming into humans and serving as officials. In chaotic times, their numbers swelled.

Good demons were many; evil demons were many too.

In every age of chaos, many demons were drawn by blood and malevolent qi to take the shortcut of cultivation. In every natural disaster, demons and evil spirits took advantage to wreak havoc. Whenever a great demon arose, it would plague a region for years before the sluggish Nine Heavens’ divine generals finally arrived to eliminate it.

The Purple Emperor, however, was forceful and ruthless, tolerating no filth.

Thus, in this age of peace, demons and ghosts are rarely seen—even when they appear,

they dare not clash with mortals, dare not harm them, dare not enter cities lightly.

Even in chaotic times, it is better.

Like the recent diversion of the Chang River, or the drought, or border wars—especially in the north and central regions, the Purple Emperor’s core lands of worship—the demons and evil spirits are crushed underfoot.

If a great demon dares to rise, heavenly soldiers descend swiftly.

Even Lin Jue could only say: “If the Purple Emperor could distinguish good from evil instead of sweeping all away, he would truly be a diligent Heavenly Emperor.”

Luo Gong listened in silence, then suddenly asked:

“When was your divine office revoked, Elder Hua?”

“About ten or so years ago,” said the flowery-robed man. “Not just me—most non-human deities of the mortal realm have been gradually stripped of their titles. It was only a matter of time. I was somewhat fortunate: I was deified in the final years of the previous dynasty, then personally enshrined by Emperor Luo Gong. Thus, divine edicts came repeatedly, the Purple Cloud Palace submitted multiple petitions, the Ministry of Rites consulted the mortal emperor, and each time, the request was rejected.”

The elder did not speak further, but all understood.

The Nine Heavens’ divine spirits fall, just as the mortal court decays.

The current emperor is no longer what he once was; the court is no longer what it was. When officials grow corrupt, the court weakens, and the emperor grows inept, fear of divine powers grows.

Ever since the Chang River changed course, the people and court blamed the emperor for moral failure. The benevolent, tolerant emperor first issued a self-blame edict, then appeared bare-chested before Heaven to beg forgiveness—and from then on, the mortal emperor’s authority began to decline. This is a fate all dynasties cannot escape; our own has held out longer than most.

In contrast, the Purple Emperor’s prestige has grown ever higher, ever more domineering, his control over the mortal realm ever stronger.

“Hmm...”

Lin Jue pondered, then said:

“Elder Hua, you are old. Living alone here is not good. Why not come stay with me to rest in peace, or go to Yeshan to keep company with the Wild Mountain God and the mountain spirits? Wouldn’t that be better than now?”

“What? Is the Purple Emperor going to move against your nine-tailed fox?”

“It’s inevitable.”

“Are you going to use me as a target now?” The flowery-robed man glared. “I was a legitimate deity!”

“Are you going to take out your frustrations on this Daoist again?” the flower-robed man glared, “I’ve also been a proper deity!”

Lin Jue, seeing his reaction, felt helpless.

The Purple Emperor’s True Lords might act differently from the Holy Protection True Lord, but they might still find him—using his dual identity as both demon and former deity—to find fault with him and Fu Yao.

The True Lord under the Purple Emperor’s command might act differently from the Protecting Saint True Lord, but perhaps he could still be found; using his identity as both a demon and a former deity, one might extract answers about himself and Fuyao.

But this elder was proud; saying this might crush him.

Before he could speak, the younger sister’s voice came from beside him:

“Brother merely sees that Elder Hua is advanced in age, and as the saying goes, ‘An elder in the house is a treasure.’ He simply wishes to bring you to live in comfort!”

At these words, the flowery-robed man’s face brightened slightly.

Yet he turned his head away, eyes glancing sideways at them: “Don’t try to fool me!”

“Brother told me last time,” said the younger sister. “Not just last time—decades ago too. He said if he could bring Elder Hua to him, his disciples could learn reading, writing, the Unrestrained Art, the Art of Encouraging Joy, and Elder Hua’s paper-cutting from him.”

“My senior brother told me last time,” the junior sister said, “not just last time—decades ago too—he said that if only Master Hua could be brought to his place, his current disciples could be taught reading and writing, the Unrestrained Art, the Art of Encouraging Joy, and Master Hua’s paper-cutting skills by him.”

The flowery-robed man burst into loud laughter.

His laugh was shrill, like a dog’s bark.

Several figures stood on the mountain peak, feeling the wind, gazing down at the valley, and saw a few literati climbing together. Those on the mountain watched them; they, in turn, watched the mountain dwellers.

From the literati’s perspective, they were just ordinary people, an ordinary horse.

But soon, some dissolved into the wind, others rode clouds back to their mountains, still others mounted the cultured horse and vanished on wind and cloud.

From these literati’s perspective, it was probably just a few ordinary people and an ordinary horse.

Almost immediately afterward—

A divine general descended, arriving at this place.

Surrounded by heavenly soldiers, watched by a True Lord, he entered the mountain cave to search.

But the cave was now empty—only scraps of cloth and cotton, used-up brushes, gnawed wood, and dog hair remained.

The Divine General, guarded by heavenly soldiers and watched over by True Lords, entered the mountain cave to search.

But the cave was now empty, containing only tattered rags and cotton, used-up paintbrushes, gnawed wood, and some dog hair.

The True Lords of the North were forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood. If ordered to purge demons, he would not hesitate. But to investigate a True Master who had also eradicated demons and accumulated great merit—he felt utterly at a loss.

After days of investigation, he had finally, after imitating the former dynasty’s True Lords, found a lead—only to find it empty.

The True Lords and war generals of the north had all been forged in mountains of corpses and seas of blood; if sent to purge demons and exterminate monsters, they would not hesitate—but to investigate a True Immortal who had also slain demons and amassed great merit, they felt utterly at a loss.

Almost simultaneously, divine officials arrived, demanding to know why the mountain immortals had obstructed the Nine Heavens’ demon-purging.

The mountain immortals debated them, responding to each move.

Some True Lords descended to the Underworld to investigate all who had died in the mountain over the past century; others, martial gods, arrived at Yishan to probe reports of demons harming mortals.

Who but a sage could be flawless?

Yishan is vast, steep, and treacherous—how could no one ever fall to their death? With so many demons in the mountain over millennia, how could not one evil demon or ghost ever appear?

It was just like the Mountain God of Langtou Mountain.

Yi Mountain is vast, steep, and towering; how could no one ever slip and fall to their death? With so many demons in the mountains, how could not a single wicked demon or evil spirit have emerged over thousands of years?

This is just like the mountain god of Langtou Mountain.

……