Chapter 43: Summoning the Gods

Wang Feiyin glanced once, nodded in satisfaction, and told them to place everything on the table: “Bring some better apricots and pastries—our Proclaim Heaven Sect’s ancestral masters are most benevolent; they will greatly delight in anything we sincerely offer.”

Pan Yun silently prepared, arranging the finest delicacies on the most elegant plates, then quietly asked: “Senior Brother, who exactly are ‘they’?”

Wang Feiyin had already affixed the talismans; a stack still lay on the table. He glanced at Pan Yun and said: “Fifth Sister, Master Pan is our teacher, but our arts come from Immortal Ge, so both are our ancestral masters.”

Pan Yun suddenly understood—no wonder the main hall reverently enshrined the stone statue and spirit tablet of Ge Hong. So Ge Hong was truly the one who transmitted the Dao?

Wang Feiyin ordered Pan Yun and the others to step aside. Holding his treasure sword, he stepped through the Nine Stars, murmuring softly, invoking the descent of the two ancestral masters…

Pan Yun watched curiously. In her past life, rituals like this had grown rare; after spiritual energy revived, humans gained new powers, and everyone’s goal became cultivating their own bodies, creating gods.

Ancient deities were seldom mentioned, as if they had vanished from human memory.

For millennia, no miracles proved the old gods still existed, so humanity universally accepted that no immortals remained.

But the Dao pitied them, allowing this generation to begin cultivation: without gods, they could create gods.

This belief and goal had been implanted in Pan Yun since she first understood the world, so she never questioned it.

Only now, watching Wang Feiyin’s rhythm stir the celestial spiritual energy, sensing an invisible, intangible, profoundly mysterious aura descend, did she begin to doubt her past life’s assumptions: if no immortals were seen, did that mean they truly didn’t exist?

Had divine power truly vanished?

Wang Feiyin turned, sheathed his sword, held it upright before his eyes, then suddenly opened them, glaring fiercely ahead before collapsing onto his cushion, slowly closing his eyes.

A cool breeze brushed past; Pan Yun’s internal cultivation spontaneously activated, qi gathering in her eyes. Beneath her Heavenly Eye, all surroundings blurred like mist. A faint shadow appeared on the horizon, stepped forward to the cliff’s edge, gave her a half-smile, then stepped again—vanishing into Wang Feiyin’s body, as if entering him…

Pan Yun: …My heavens, it’s really her master!

Senior Brother truly can summon the master!

Oh no, immortals truly exist in this world!

Pan Yun quietly pinched her thigh hard—pain made her shiver. It was real!

She had always followed the principle: better to be superstitious than offend the gods. She never expected to be right.

Pan Yun recalled her behavior over the past two days, confirmed she had not offended the master, and relaxed.

Only then did she notice another figure approaching from the horizon—no, a deity.

The shadow drew nearer: an old Daoist in wide-sleeved robes, with kind brows and a gentle face.

He drifted slowly to the cliff’s edge, not approaching, merely smiling at Wang Feiyin and the others.

His gaze swept over the disciples, paused when meeting Pan Yun’s curious stare, and returned her gaze with equal curiosity.

This child can see me?

He was about to drift closer for a better look when Wang Feiyin opened his eyes. The warrior figure emerged from his body, glanced once more at Pan Yun, then halted to observe the shadow.

The shadow bowed repeatedly, barely nodded to Wang Feiyin, then seized a portion of the food’s spiritual essence and departed; the remaining essence drifted toward the warrior.

Pan Yun watched the two shadows vanish, then turned her gaze back—only to meet Wang Feiyin’s complex stare.

Their eyes met. His gaze was tangled, his expression equally so—he looked at Pan Yun as if speechless.

Pan Yun’s heart clenched. What did that mean?

Wang Feiyin rose, reverently lit fresh incense and candles for the two ancestral masters, bowed, then said to Pan Yun: “Pack your things. I’ll take you down the mountain soon.”

Pan Yun nodded numbly, her mind swirling, but ultimately decided to obey.

Wang Feiyin returned to his room, changed from ritual robes into a light Daoist robe, and filled a basket with incense and candles.

Pan Yun waited at the main hall’s entrance, hugging the black cat.

Miao He chattered enviously: “I haven’t gone down the mountain in nearly half a year. If you see Wang Xiaojing, thank him for me—his apricots are delicious…”

Miao Zhen waited until Miao He finished, then said: “Don’t worry.”

Pan Yun looked up, smiled: “I’m not worried. Why do you say that, disciple?”

Miao Zhen said: “But you are worried—even if I don’t know what about. Don’t fret. Senior Brother will see you through.”

Pan Yun paused, then nodded.

Wang Feiyin soon emerged with the basket, waved to Pan Yun: “Let’s go.”

Pan Yun hurried after him, still hugging the cat. Wang Feiyin glanced at the cat but made no move to stop her from bringing it.

Tao Ji and three young disciples watched them walk away, all sighing in unison. Tao Ji, surprised they sighed together, tapped their heads: “You’re children—why sigh? Go practice.”

They weren’t afraid of Tao Ji. Miao He asked outright: “Master, can our little aunt stay?”

Tao Ji: “I thought you only cared about food. When did you start thinking this deeply?”

Miao He: “We never ask about gods when taking in new disciples—only our little aunt. The moment she joined, Senior Brother asked about immortals.”

Tao Ji, though concerned, wasn’t worried about this: “Don’t fear. If the ancestral masters didn’t want your little aunt, Senior Brother wouldn’t be taking her down with incense—he’d be taking her down with luggage.”

Pan Yun followed Wang Feiyin in silence.

Wang Feiyin glanced at her several times, finally couldn’t hold back: “You’re remarkably calm. Don’t you want to know what the master’s divine decree was?”

Hearing his familiar tone, Pan Yun grinned: “Does the master approve of me as a disciple? Did he send you to deliver a welcome gift?”

Wang Feiyin fell silent.

Pan Yun’s smile froze. She suddenly realized: “Wait—is it really a welcome gift?”

!.

Wang Feiyin studied her, then said: “Yes. The master did prepare a welcome gift for you.”

He paused, then added with concern: “Fifth Sister, the master’s favor is a blessing. With ancestral protection, your cultivation and worldly path will be easier than others’. But I see your fortune is shallow—you shouldn’t have received such an opportunity. Since you’ve received it, you must pay the price.”

Worried she was too young to understand, too dazzled by benefits to lose her true heart, he explained carefully: “We Dao cultivators cultivate this life—this body, this virtue, this spiritual sense and soul. Yet in thousands of years, not one has attained the Dao. So we yearn for the next life.”

“Why do some live in wealth from birth, yet end in poverty? Why do others begin ordinary, yet enjoy endless fortune, smooth sailing?”

Wang Feiyin said: “That is fortune, feng shui, destiny. These three are tied to this life, ancestral merit, and your past life.”

“Those who accumulate virtue always have better fortune. But your face shows only slightly above-average luck—you shouldn’t have received this opportunity.”

Pan Yun grinned: “I know—I was just an ordinary person in my past life. Died young, never accumulated fame or merit.”

Wang Feiyin: “…You know your past life?”

Pan Yun half-joking: “Senior Brother, do you believe in innate knowledge?”

Wang Feiyin: “Belief doesn’t matter. You saw the mountain spirit without ritual. You dreamed of the ancestral masters two nights straight. What’s impossible now?”

Wang Feiyin now accepted it easily—even if she claimed she was a god reincarnated to endure trials, he’d believe her.

Innate knowledge? The world had seen it before. His disciple was already miraculous—what’s one more trait?

“Since you know your past merits were ordinary,” Wang Feiyin sighed, “you must understand: this life’s fortune is too great—it harms you. Hold fast to your true self. Never forget your original heart.”

“Mm-hmm, I won’t forget. So, Senior Brother—what did the master give me as a welcome gift?”

Wang Feiyin: “You’ll see soon.”

“Oh come on, tell me now! It’s still a long way down the mountain.”

Wang Feiyin took her hand, stepped forward—the trees blurred past. They crossed a long stretch of mountain path. Another step—and they stood on the mountain’s lower slope…

As he carried her across, he said: “I don’t tell you because I don’t know how. When you see it, you’ll understand without me explaining.”

A few steps later, they reached the fastest descent path. Wang Feiyin released her hand. Ahead lay the village—they couldn’t move so swiftly now.

They walked slowly from the woods, and there, in sight, was Wang Xiaojing’s tea stall.

The stall was empty. Wang Feiyin glanced once, then turned Pan Yun down the path along the mountain’s base. They walked, and walked, until they reached a small temple built of stacked stones.

Today’s lucky number ends in 3. Screenshot as proof. Screenshot deadline: before next chapter update.

(End of Chapter)