Chapter 622: Queen Mother Stone, Fire-Art Scripture

These days, the shrine gradually began to change.

A faint thread of incense power had begun to coalesce!

Though faint, it stirred Li Yan's vigilance.

No other reason—he was simply too famous.

From ancient times to the present, countless legends had been passed down, and temples dedicated to him numbered beyond count—he was a true great deity.

But this shrine was an ancient relic, possibly dating back to the era of primitive tribes, yet no one had ever offered worship or opened its aura—why then did incense power gather here?

By now, Li Yan had come to understand the nature of folk deities.

They were born from incense and died from being forgotten.

In terms of his past-life concepts, folk deities were projections of collective consciousness—virtual entities created when humans witnessed natural phenomena such as wind, frost, rain, and snow, and thus imagined gods who controlled those forces.

This was humanity's exploration of the external world.

Human emotional power was immensely strong, and in this world, the two qi of gang and sha flowed constantly; joy, anger, sorrow, thought, grief, fear, and shock all gave rise to something.

Folk deities were no different.

The weaker ones could only dwell within a small statue, no better off than wandering ghosts, at best able to send warnings in dreams.

The powerful ones, like the Water God General Yang Si, had statues scattered along southern rivers, their incense forming a continuous thread, capable of manifesting miracles and slaying demons.

But Er Lang Zhen Jun occupied an entirely different level.

He had been reborn as a human and successfully ascended to godhood.

This phenomenon might not be unique.

Take the Queen Mother of the West, for instance.

According to the Classic of Mountains and Seas, in ancient times she was the lord of Kunlun, governing the "Five Heavenly Calamities" and the "Elixir of Immortality."

The "Five Heavenly Calamities" referred to plague, war, famine, flood, and earthquake—the five disasters feared by ancient peoples.

Her true form was "tiger's teeth, leopard's tail," symbolizing nature's mercilessness and regeneration, and embodying the primal fears of early humans.

In other words, she was a fearsome deity.

But another theory held that the Queen Mother of the West was in fact the chieftain of an ancient western female clan, like Nüwa, Fuxi, and Shennong—names of clans, not individuals.

King Mu of Zhou's meeting at the Jade Pool was merely a mythic expression of a historical event, which is why gifts were exchanged.

In either case, things had changed over time.

During the Han dynasty, Emperor Wu built the "Golden Mother Yuan Jun Temple," and her image was described as "proportionate in stature, her heavenly grace veiled, her beauty peerless," and she gifted him immortal peaches.

Myth and history were often deeply entangled.

Perhaps it had something to do with King Mu of Zhou's western campaign and Emperor Wu's western tour.

The "gift of immortal peaches" may also have stemmed from alchemists misleading emperors in their quest for immortality, giving rise to the "Transmission of the Queen Mother's Tokens" spirit charm incident.

Over time, she gradually evolved into the current form of a goddess of fortune.

This was a classic case of incense influence.

Just as Er Lang, through absorbing incense, changed in both character and demeanor until he became Yang Jian the deity.

The Queen Mother of the West may have undergone a similar process.

Regardless, the truth had been buried by history.

This shrine remained an ancient relic from a bygone age; the Queen Mother's nature had changed, and any sacrifice now would only manifest incense upon the current goddess of virtue and fortune.

Could it be that the worship of the Queen Mother had gone awry?

Li Yan could not fathom it.

Fortunately, this faint incense power had no effect on him.

Holding the shrine, Li Yan focused his spirit in a single thought, and the copper scales on his armguard clattered loudly.

A sudden gale arose, gathering gang and sha qi, instantly sweeping away every trace of incense from the shrine.

After this, Li Yan carefully put it away.

The Opening Vault Assembly had too many matters—he would head to Xiling after it ended, waiting for Long Yan's breakthrough while absorbing the shrine.

Then he would proceed to Luoyang.

Having settled his plans, Li Yan went to the window.

Qingcheng had chosen a good day—today was a rare clear day; the thick frost mist had dissipated, sunlight tore through the haze, and the beauty of Chaoyang Cave reappeared.

Looking out, the landscape shimmered with scattered gold.

Yet despite the beauty, Li Yan had other concerns.

The appearance of the Nine Tripods, new firearms, oceanic voyages, steam engines, anomalies in the Great Luo Dharma Realm—all signs pointed to a cataclysmic transformation in human dao.

The wheel of history had already veered far beyond his understanding.

When they first set out from Guanzhong, their goal had merely been to travel the land, broaden their horizons, and complete their cultivation lineage.

Then they were drawn into the southwestern war and the demon cult's schemes.

Now, their strength had surged rapidly; both he and the Twelve Zodiacs' names had spread far and wide.

Before departure, he had never imagined this.

Yet yesterday's assembly had reminded him.

Under the great tide of human dao, even the most deeply rooted sects were seeking new paths—Mei Shan Fa Jiao had openly pledged allegiance to the court.

And as for their small group… where would they go?

…………

The glazed hip-and-gable roof of Shangqing Palace pierced through the sea of clouds.

As mountain winds stirred the pine waves, seventy-two bronze bells beneath the palace's eight eaves rang out in the breeze, then the acolyte pulled the clapper.

Dong! Dong! Dong!

The majestic morning bell echoed across the mountains.

Outside Shangqing Palace, the crowd was already thick.

The first day was for sacrificial rites and meetings, the second for opening vaults and retrieving treasures, today was the final day—the time for exchanging spiritual materials and treasures.

The Opening Vault Assembly was not held every year; gatherings of this scale were rarer still, so every sect naturally did not miss it, arriving early to wait outside Shangqing Palace.

Li Yan and his companions were among them, exchanging pleasantries with many.

Many of these factions were old acquaintances.

Like Doumu Courtyard of Taibai Mountain, Pure Yang Palace of Huashan, Zhenwu Palace of Wudang, Baotong Chan Temple of Wuchang, Guangde Temple…

Though none were close friends, they had all met before and maintained good relations.

Unconsciously, Li Yan had built up considerable connections.

Of course, some kept their distance.

Like the Shangshan Sect of Shanzhou—he had clashed with Yue Fachong in Chang'an, and since Shen Sanyou's Ming Jiao was hostile to Shangshan Sect, he had no interest in engaging them.

This was how the jianghu worked.

You never lacked friends, nor enemies.

And all of this was watched by those with intent.

After the Shu Wang Palace battle, he had already become famous across the land; now, those speaking with him were all orthodox Daoist factions, causing many to begin evaluating him.

For instance, Di Longzi of Tongtian Jiao watched silently from afar; though his expression was dark, a flicker of wariness appeared in his eyes…

And Tang Jiu of Mei Shan Fa Jiao, who had been so prominent the day before.

The short, stout old man gazed at Li Yan among the crowd, thoughtful, hesitated, then stepped forward with a smile and bowed: "Young Master Li, this old man is Tang Jiu of Mei Shan Fa Jiao—I've long admired your name…"

The orthodox Daoist crowd understood—they knew the two had private matters to discuss, and one by one excused themselves and drifted away.

Li Yan also smiled and returned the bow: "Greetings, Elder Tang. I've received Master Zou's letter. You look radiant—has your matter been resolved?"

"Lucky for me—Official Pei lent a hand."

Tang Jiao laughed heartily, then turned serious: "Though the matter is settled, your willingness to assist is a great honor. Mei Shan Fa Jiao never lets friends down—please accept this."

Saying this, he pulled a booklet from his robe.

Li Yan took it and saw the title: "Mei Shan Fire-Art Compilation." He frowned slightly: "Forgive my limited knowledge—this book looks newly written?"

Tang Jiu glanced around, not bothering to conceal anything, and smiled: "Since Mei Shan developed fire-art techniques, Daoists from across Shenzhou have gathered to study and refine them together."

"We Mei Shan are not narrow-minded, but outsiders who do not worship our founding ancestors cannot learn our methods."

"Yet Shenzhou produces talent endlessly—these are the insights compiled by Daoists from all paths; perhaps soon, other sects may cultivate this art as well."

"I've heard the Twelve Zodiacs excel in firearms—I gift you the 'Mei Shan Fire-Art Compilation'—may you achieve great things…"

At these words, all heads turned.

Li Yan immediately saw through his intent.

On the first day of the assembly, Mei Shan Fa Jiao had stolen the spotlight and pledged allegiance to the court, entering the Ministry of War—its future seemed limitless—but it had also angered many orthodox Daoists.

This gesture was meant to display Mei Shan's magnanimity and win hearts.

Without doubt, some would be swayed.

And this booklet would be distributed widely.

On the path of fire-art techniques, Mei Shan had already secured the lead, holding a natural advantage—even if others discovered the methods, they could only learn from Mei Shan's foundation, forever remaining behind.

No matter how you looked at it, they gained without loss.

True enough, someone immediately rushed forward to speak.

Li Yan didn't care—he stepped aside to examine the booklet.

Opening the first page, he found its origin.

As Tang Jiu had said, it gathered the efforts of many Daoist masters, some of whom were quite renowned.

Li Yan quickly flipped through a few pages.

The first volume read: "The Art of Firearm Craftsmanship":

"Firearms draw upon the fierce power of metal and fire, and internally harness the transformation of yin and yang. The Nine Refinements of Meishan: saltpeter and sulfur as the bone, cinnabar as the soul; lead and mercury neutralize malevolence, thunder talismans serve as the trigger. When forging muskets and cannons, carve the Twenty-Eight Lunar Mansions into the barrel, and engrave yin-fire-repelling patterns on the base…"

So that's how it is!

Li Yan immediately understood much.

The new firearms they obtained, even when custom-made, were all of traditional design; to wield firearm techniques, one must align the weapon with the art, integrating it into the crafting of magical artifacts.

Volume two, "The Divine Command of Fire," detailed theories and hypotheses on firearm techniques; volume three, "The Art of Mechanical Automata"; volume four, "Tactical Arrays and Military Formations," contained only a few lines—likely concealed.

After all, this matter concerns Meishan's standing within the military.

A precious find!

Li Yan silently praised it, then felt a heavy breathing beside him.

Sha Li-fei had leaned close, eyes wide, glued to the book as if bound to it.

Li Yan smiled wryly and handed it over. "Old Sha, this thing's probably most useful to you."

Sha Li-fei said nothing, snatched it, sat on a large stone, and soon became utterly absorbed.

At that moment, several Daoists emerged from Shangqing Palace.

Leading them was Lingyunzi, his Daoist robe fluttering in the wind; he smiled and performed a Daoist bow. "Dear fellow Daoists and elders, you've waited long enough—I doubt you wish to hear my empty words. As per tradition, the orthodox sects go first."

This was the long-standing custom of the Jiao -opening assembly.

The court had already purchased a portion; Minister of Rites Pei Zongti had departed this morning, confirming that during last night's inventory of the Qingcheng vaults, the Ministry of Works' list had already been prepared.

Next came the major orthodox Daoist sects.

Only after their selection would the magical lineages get their turn, and finally the minor clans.

The Daoist sects of the Jianghu all had their own rules.

The orthodox sects held higher status, and thus enjoyed many privileges.

After speaking, Lingyunzi produced another list, read each name aloud, then smiled: "These Daoists may enter first as well."

These names were no less significant.

For instance, the fengshui master—though solitary—held extraordinary status; many magical lineages invited him when facing fengshui dilemmas…

And several burly men, seemingly unremarkable, were in fact from renowned lineages, their Shenhou standing the Ten Great Masters of Shenzhou…

And Li Yan was among them.

Unlike at Huashan, no one now objected to Li Yan's inclusion—many even considered it natural.

After all, everyone had witnessed what had just transpired.

"You go ahead. I won't enter."

Sha Li-fei waved his hand. "I wouldn't understand anything inside anyway—this thing's priceless to me."

Li Yan didn't press him. He glanced at Wu Ba, who was eating a peach nearby, and nodded for him to stay with Sha Li-fei.

Then he led Wang Daoxuan and Lu San into Shangqing Palace.

The treasure chamber lay in the Western Hunyuan Pavilion.

Once Qingcheng's scripture hall and teaching ground, it had now been arranged: massive Daoist banners hung outside, candles blazing brightly.

As at Huashan, spiritual powers were once again sealed within.

Li Yan looked up: eight pillars of golden sandalwood, coiled dragons with scales glazed in deep blue-black patina; at the ceiling's center, a gilded Taiji diagram, illuminated by nine hundred and ninety-nine eternal lamps, seemed alive.

The entire hall was bathed in candlelight.

Li Yan knew these were not mere decorations—they were arrays, designed to prevent anyone from losing their temper and fighting inside, or using magic to steal.

In the hall's center stood a bronze Bagua platform.

The abbot, Chen Confucius, had gone to escort Pei Zongti and was not present.

Zhu Qingzi, a senior of Qingcheng, presided, holding a green jade ritual chime, flanked by eight Qingcheng Sword Guards, each with peachwood swords wrapped in the Five Peaks Qi-Subduing Talismans.

"Fellow Daoists."

The old Daoist spoke calmly: "The Hunyuan Pavilion has three levels. The first displays spiritual materials; the second, magical artifacts; the third, ancient scriptures and secret scrolls. Each level is protected by a Bagua Spirit-Sealing Array."

"Our abbot, Chen Confucius, newly ascended, is occupied with pressing matters and, given Chengdu's recent devastation, has foregone the enthronement ceremony. As an apology, you may each purchase three spiritual materials at cost price using a 'Tianshi Golden Talisman.'"

With that, he nodded to the side.

Immediately, several Daoists emerged carrying trays, each bearing a gilded bronze talisman.

"Abbot Chen Confucius is too kind."

All who received the gift thanked him.

They were not surprised: after the battle at the Shu Prince's Palace, Cheng Jianxian had perished, and the balance of power in Shu would shift.

For Chen Confucius, the enthronement ceremony was less important than other matters.

Even now, Emei—the nominal leader of Shu's Daoist sects—had sent no emissary; clearly, troubles lingered.

After all, even in old age, Cheng Jianxin's reputation and connections remained formidable; his passing was a test for Qingcheng Mountain.

This Jiao -opening assembly could greatly strengthen Qingcheng's position.

Yet none dared speak openly of the rivalries among Shu's orthodox sects—they merely accepted the gifts and pretended ignorance.

The orthodox sects had come with specific missions; no one wasted words, each heading straight for their target.

Li Yan, having attended the Huashan Jiao -opening assembly, was no novice. He gave a glance, signaling Wang Daoxuan to search the gold vault for valuables, while he led Lu San straight to the spiritual wood section.

Here, spiritual powers were sealed.

But Lu San could hear the speech of beasts, birds, and plants, and with his cultivation of the Zhi-Lan Scripture, his judgment of spiritual wood was likely sharper than even Qingcheng's disciples…

(End of Chapter)