Chapter 98: Dao Foundation Chapter

Ji Liuli held a tea canister made of purple-blue glazed dragon jade and walked out of the small courtyard with Yan Shi Zhenjun. As he stepped out, the young Daoist glanced back at the tea bowl on the table—the lid remained properly in place, neither turned nor cracked, nor darkened by shadow or stain.

The young Daoist’s steps grew light; with a single stride, heaven and earth shifted, and he stood before Xuan Yue Zhenjun, startling the old man.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun held a jade tablet in one hand and a brush in the other, muttering under his breath as he concentrated on calculating something—he never expected Yan Shi Zhenjun to appear through space without so much as a courtesy.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun calmly tucked away the two jade tablets covered in numbers, his face grim: “You burst in without even announcing yourself—what, has the Tianqing Palace lately offended you?”

The young Daoist laughed: “I timed it perfectly—I came to share tea with you. Wait any longer, and it won’t be as fine!”

Saying this, Yan Shi Zhenjun sat down at the table with full confidence, utterly uninvited. He waved his hand, and Ji Liuli stepped forward to place the tea canister down, then arranged an equally priceless set of tea utensils to brew tea for the two Zhenjuns.

Yan Shi Zhenjun first looked upward at Xuan Yue’s head—sure enough, a vast shadow loomed like storm-laden leaden clouds. Then he gazed at Xuan Yue’s third eye: a swirl of black qi spun there.

Instantly, Yan Shi Zhenjun felt as if he’d drunk three cups of immortal tea—his Dao heart grew startlingly clear. Now it was Ji Liuli’s turn.

Ji Liuli lifted the tea canister, shook it once, shook it twice, shook it thrice—finally, the tea leaves tumbled out. Both Zhenjuns froze in unison.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun’s white beard trembled, his breath heavy; he watched several immortal tea leaves fall to the ground, yet, bound by the dignity of a Zhenjun, he could not reach out to catch them.

Yan Shi Zhenjun’s brow twitched, his smile stiffened—he realized Ji Liuli had shaken too hard, dislodging three immortal tea leaves.

“Hahaha!” Yan Shi Zhenjun let out a few forced laughs, then said: “Just a few tea leaves—let them fall! Next time, be more careful. Don’t be so disrespectful before Xuan Yue Zhenjun.”

Xuan Yue Zhenjun let out a loud huff, coldly saying: “If you’ve got something to say, say it. If you’ve got something to spit out, spit it out!”

The young Daoist’s expression had returned to normal: “First, I heard you’ve been under dark clouds lately, your third eye blackened. Though your fate is strong and your life isn’t in danger, great matters won’t go smoothly. I doubted the rumors—I had to come see for myself. Now that I’ve seen it, I’m at ease. That’s the first.”

Xuan Yue, unusually, did not fly into a rage. Though every member of the Tianqing Palace, from top to bottom, had a foul temper and stubborn nature, they all added one level of patience for patrons, two for creditors, and three for Yan Shi Zhenjun—who was both creditor and future patron.

Xuan Yue Zhenjun, face still grim, asked: “What’s the second?”

“The second is to apologize to you, Brother Xuan Yue. When Liuli was young, he acted rashly and took it upon himself to refine Wei Yuan’s foundation. But Wei Yuan’s foundation—peerless in all the heavens—what need had he for refinement? To refine it was like trying to lay bricks across the boundless earth—how absurd! Ha, hahaha!”

At these words, Xuan Yue Zhenjun’s long eyebrows relaxed: “Brother Yan Shi, you haven’t yet seen the true form of Wei Yuan’s foundation—you only glimpsed it in the Wanshang Hall. Come, come—this is Wei Yuan’s true foundation!”

With a wave of his hand, Wei Yuan’s foundation manifested before the two Zhenjuns. The room was too small to display the entirety of Wei Yuan’s foundation, so only a proportional section—Jade Mountain and a small surrounding area—appeared.

“Laying bricks across heaven and earth is absurd—but if you refine a single corner of heaven and earth, there’s no problem. This Jade Mountain holds many marvels—our efforts were not wasted, not a single drop!” In this moment, Yan Shi Zhenjun had lost.

Both Zhenjuns fixed their gaze on the withered branch beside the Jade Mountain—they could not identify what it was. Yet Dao foundations shifted endlessly; it was common for Wei Yuan’s to contain oddities.

When the young Daoist emerged from the Tianqing Palace, his expression darkened. He had won one, lost one against Xuan Yue—technically a draw—but he’d lost three tea leaves. Money wasn’t the issue—it was the number three.

Inside the Tianqing Palace, Xuan Yue Zhenjun carefully lifted the three tea leaves with wood-element Dao force, blew away dust that wasn’t there, then summoned his disciples to seal the leaves with utmost care—so much so that he even retrieved the box containing the Dao rhythms of his ancestors.

After sealing the three leaves individually, Xuan Yue Zhenjun personally inscribed on the box in bold characters: “Immortal Tea, Personally Inspected by Yan Shi Zhenjun,” then ordered his disciples to take the tea to the Trading Hall for sale—each leaf priced at one million immortal silver taels.

In truth, the immortal tea was worth far more than one million taels; Xuan Yue Zhenjun set the price low to ensure a swift sale. Without exception, these three leaves would return to the Tianji Palace at lightning speed.

Even if Xuan Yue Zhenjun had raised the price by another few million taels, Yan Shi would have bought them with a grimace. But relentless pursuit is for enemies; for a creditor and patron, one must know when to stop, and show thoughtful restraint.

Back at his residence, Wei Yuan first studied the withered branch in detail—but saw nothing unusual. He projected his spirit into his own mind sea and tried to pull the branch from the soil—his hand seized it effortlessly. Startled, Wei Yuan quickly reinserted it.

Though its function was unknown, it was an Immortal Lord’s own catch—said to be a branch of the Moon-Cinnamon Immortal Tree—clearly no ordinary thing.

At that moment, Wei Yuan recalled the strange reaction of the book on his person. He exited his mind sea and opened it. The examination section had changed again: Bao Yun’s merit points had surged to sixteen thousand, pushing Wei Yuan behind. But the most shocking was Xiao Zhonglou—he now ranked first with eighteen thousand merit points!

!.

After the top three, others’ merit points slowly climbed—the fourth place had already surpassed seven thousand.

A detail surfaced in Wei Yuan’s mind: the moment Pei Tinghai tossed the withered branch into Wei Yuan’s mind sea, the rankings updated within less than an instant.

Every move of an Immortal Lord carries profound meaning. Since Wei Yuan could not yet understand it, he did not dwell on it. He probed his spiritual meridians—still dry; the spirit gathering array remained unrepaired.

Temporary inability to cultivate was not critical—Wei Yuan had already formed the Taiyin Full Moon, allowing him to slowly absorb celestial qi, a tier above spiritual energy. Moreover, Wei Yuan had another urgent task: rewriting The Deviant of Heaven and Earth, creating the Dao Foundation Chapter.

The Deviant of Heaven and Earth was created by Zhang Sheng, who had laid its foundation and basic framework. Zhang Sheng had only written the core portion; after Wei Yuan forged his Dao foundation, his Primordial Spirit surged violently, rendering the original text incapable of expressing his full power—revision was necessary. Zhang Sheng himself could not use The Deviant of Heaven and Earth, so Wei Yuan had to revise it himself.

Fortunately, Zhang Sheng had built the framework—eighty percent of the work was done. Wei Yuan only needed to complete the final twenty percent.

As for how to write the Dao Foundation Chapter of The Deviant of Heaven and Earth—the method had been taught to Wei Yuan by Zhang Sheng during his early education three years ago.

(End of Chapter)