Chapter 110: The Lianshan Sect

The capital of this dynasty has been Chang’an for thirty years. Chang’an lies slightly to the north of the south, situated at the heart of the realm; it is a place of natural advantage. Guarded by five formidable passes—Wuguan, Xiaoguan, Sanguan, Hangu, and Tongguan—each protecting the other, with eight rivers encircling it, the city enjoys abundant water resources. The Imperial Astronomical Bureau has even determined that this land is destined for revival, the abode of the Southern Dragon. The dragon’s vein begins at Mount Emei, passing through Sichuan, entering Chang’an, traversing the Wei River and Qinling Mountains, its tail extending to the mountains of Jiangsu and Zhejiang before finally merging with the sea. Chang’an rests precisely at the dragon’s claw, a vantage point from which the Han kings once surveyed the world and indeed secured the empire.

Yet today, a strange event unsettled Chang’an. Hundreds of feet above the city, a golden ship suddenly appeared, suspended in the air. Its hull was sleek and nimble, spanning a thousand feet or more, emitting bursts of celestial energy and radiant treasures. Officials, nobles, merchants, and commoners alike rushed to spread the news in a frenzy of panic and excitement. The court deployed the Divine Mechanism, Concealment Forces, and the Sun-Shooting Army to suppress the anomaly. The current emperor ascended the Vermilion Bird Terrace himself to offer sacrifices to Heaven and seek the immortals’ favor, but no response came. Rumors quickly spread among the populace that Heaven’s favor had been withdrawn—whispers that blurred the line between truth and falsehood.

Shortly after, beams of azure, gold, and crimson light shot from the south into the golden ship. It pivoted swiftly and vanished in an instant. Moments later, thunder cracked through the sky.

“That emperor just lost face in front of everyone,” Zhu Fei chuckled foolishly. “But this place in Chang’an, it sure is a grand house—looks quite magnificent.”

“That is the emperor’s palace, called the Daming Palace,” Zhou Qian explained.

After two days of travel and flying five or six thousand miles, the group finally arrived in Chang’an. The thunderous divine shuttle was truly a treasure of the heavenly realm, its aura spreading for miles. Upon the ship stood jade pillars, intricately carved pavilions, celestial halls, and Buddhist temples, with faint chants of meditation that calmed the mind.

Upon boarding, a Taoist novice and Buddhist disciple guided them inside. Meanwhile, Tian Pingzi, Huang Fu, and others communicated telepathically with the ship’s master, arranging for Zhu Fei, Xie Yudie, and Zhou Qian to be settled in a Buddhist chamber before meeting the immortal Hu.

Zhou Qian’s eyes were opened to the world of sword immortals and masters, as the Wine Daoist had said. The immortal realm’s distinction from the mortal was starkly clear; once the ship set off, Zhou Qian remained behind, while the others obeyed their masters’ instructions not to wander.

Xie Yudie sat cross-legged with eyes closed, either cultivating or resting. Zhu Fei, the stout sword immortal with severed limbs, had nothing to do and cared little that Zhou Qian was just a mortal. Without any airs, he struck up a conversation with Zhou Qian, who gradually learned why Huang Fu took such care of his plump disciple—it was a matter of kindred spirits, both restless tongues. Zhou Qian found Zhu Fei quite amusing, his personality resembling that of his second brother, though less cunning.

“That emperor boy lives in a bigger house than my cave on Mount Kunlun,” Zhu Fei said earnestly, nodding.

Zhou Qian looked around the Buddhist chamber. It was small, without statues or altars, only a few mats, but constructed from centuries-old Dragon Elephant wood. The scent of incense wafted gently. This wood, barely the size of a fingernail in the mortal realm, could sell for ten thousand gold pieces due to its life-extending properties. The indulgences of immortals were truly beyond mortal comprehension.

“May the Buddha bless me, may my injuries heal thoroughly without any lingering harm,” Zhu Fei muttered, seeing Zhou Qian’s disinterest.

Zhou Qian was surprised. “Do immortals believe in Buddhism?”

“Of course not!” Zhu Fei brightened and explained, “I am a disciple of the Heavenly Dao Sect, venerating the orthodox Three Pure Ones. Yet some sword immortals also practice Buddhism, like the master of this divine shuttle, Hu Hui of the Great Snow Mountain’s Xianjiu Cave, a master of both Buddhist and Daoist cultivation. His special skills include the Kasyapa Sword Technique and the Muni Demon-Subduing Golden Light. It’s said he has a connection with the Little Thunder Sound Temple. He has reached the seventh of nine Buddhist consciousnesses, just a breath away from enlightenment and ascending to the Western Pure Land!”

“The Little Thunder Sound Temple?”

“One of the seven orthodox sects. You don’t know the seven orthodox sects? Surely you’ve heard of the Qingcheng Sect? Uncle Jiu wanted to bring you into Qingcheng, didn’t he? Listen carefully: Emei, Qingcheng, Longhu Maoshan, Heavenly Dao Sect, Fire Island, Lianshan, and Little Thunder Sound Temple make up the seven orthodox sects. The true evil sects form the five demonic gates: the Middle Demon Cult, Western Demon Gate, Eastern Demon Sect, Southern Pole Sect, and Yin-Yang Sect. But these years, they have fractured greatly. Many elder demons have gone independent. The Western Demon Gate has weakened, but the Bare Body Sect has risen to stand alongside the four demonic gates. This world is thus balanced between the forces of good and evil, with many other sects whose allegiances are ambiguous.”

“The Southern Pole Sect and Bare Body Sect,” Zhou Qian murmured inwardly. Both had significant ties to him. Treasures like the Fire Pearl and the Void-Eating Demon Scroll fragments came from the Southern Pole Sect’s Hidden Cave, and the demon who destroyed Luo Capital was from the Bare Body Sect.

“Actually, even among the seven great sects, there are degrees of closeness,” Zhu Fei suddenly lowered his voice and grinned slyly.

Zhou Qian recognized this manner well. Whenever Second Brother Li wanted to show off, he acted like this. Zhou Qian merely feigned a serious expression, leaned closer, and looked convinced, satisfying him greatly.

True enough, Zhu Fei beamed with pleasure, cleared his throat, and said, “Emei, Qingcheng, Tianmen, and Maoshan always watch over each other and are closest. Fire Island lies far overseas, rarely stepping into the central lands. The monks of Little Thunder Sound Temple are serene and detached from worldly affairs. But the Lianshan Sect—”

“Junior Brother, watch your words!” Xie Yudie suddenly opened her jade eyes, frowning.

Had this been a few days ago, Zhu Fei would have fallen silent immediately. But after enduring hardships together, some camaraderie had formed, and the plump little sword immortal grew bolder. “Sister, am I wrong? The Lianshan Sect has always been arrogant, practicing both good and evil cultivation. It’s said they have some ties with the demon gates...”

“That was long ago. When Emei fought with swords, Lianshan also contributed greatly, even sacrificing several master-level souls. After that, never speak such things openly. Fellow disciples hearing it would harm our bonds,” Xie Yudie scolded.

Zhu Fei immediately shrank back, silent. It seemed his timid nature was hard to break.

After a long pause, he whispered to Zhou Qian, “Actually, the last time I accompanied my master to Lianshan, they wouldn’t even let me enter the sect’s gates!”

Zhou Qian smiled. Was Zhu Fei really holding a grudge and opposing them at every turn because of this?

Xie Yudie shook her head. She couldn’t just seal his mouth; this little Zhu had a big mouth despite his timid heart.

“Sister, where exactly are we headed? We can’t just go straight to Tianmen—it’s crawling with demons and evil cultivators!” Zhu Fei suddenly asked, trying to curry favor.

“I don’t know either. Our masters keep it from us to prevent us being captured by the demon gates, so they won’t leak secrets under soul-search and soul-seizing spells, which would jeopardize everything.”

“So that’s why. Otherwise, Senior Brother Zhao Zhuo would have...” At this, Xie Yudie quickly covered her mouth, sighed, and closed her eyes again.

Zhou Qian, unlike the immortals, felt weary from the long journey and rested with closed eyes, leaving Zhu Fei restless and bored, unable to move.

After an hour or two, the Buddhist chamber door opened, startling the three awake. A Taoist novice entered and bowed, saying, “Three immortals, we have arrived.”

Zhou Qian was stunned. Had it been less than three hours? As Zhu Fei said, the golden thunderous divine shuttle could travel ten thousand miles a day—truly formidable!

“Where have we arrived?” Zhu Fei asked casually.

“Reporting to Immortal Zhu, we are at the Lianshan Sect’s main hall.”

Zhu Fei’s face paled. Having just spoken ill of them, they had arrived at their sect. The bold-mouthed plump sword immortal suddenly felt nervous.

“Are you still going to talk?” Xie Yudie asked pointedly as they left.

Zhou Qian smiled and stepped out of the chamber, only to see dozens of sword lights shooting into the sky. The Wine Daoist was beckoning from ahead. He hurried over.

“Don’t move. First, let me open your eyes!” The Wine Daoist tapped the void, and strands of azure light appeared.

“Open eyes?” Zhou Qian was puzzled.

“The famous mountains, rivers, grotto heavens, and blessed lands of the central lands—ten out of ten—are occupied by celestial cultivators. To avoid disturbance by mortals, they set up formations to hide these sacred mountains, cloaking their forms or weaving illusions. Mortals cannot see them, and if seen, cannot approach. The thirty-six grotto heavens and seventy-two blessed lands that the world speaks of are thus half true, half false.”

“Sword immortals live among mortals too?” Zhou Qian exclaimed.

“Nonsense! Only Great Dao Golden Immortals reside in the celestial realms,” the Wine Daoist snapped, pressing his forefinger and middle finger together. Azure light gathered between his fingers and touched Zhou Qian’s forehead.

Suddenly, Zhou Qian felt the shallow true qi from his dantian drawn upwards, rushing into his spirit palace, flowing like a gentle stream cleansing his vision. The azure light flashed, and the world around him transformed.

“Now you can see clearly!” The Wine Daoist nodded but frowned. “It seems this old Taoist must truly retreat to heal. Even this simple spell nearly failed.”

Zhou Qian was about to ask more but was stopped by the Wine Daoist, who unusually grew serious.

“I must borrow the spiritual spring of Jade Immortal Peak to nourish my wounds; otherwise, my power may leak. Even if not, with such grievous injuries, I cannot participate in the Tianmen’s righteous and evil sword duel. Fortunately, Qingcheng disciples are here; I will instruct them to care for you. But you must be cautious. The Lianshan Sect is not like Qingcheng; its rules are strict. Some matters offend even fellow cultivators. Look less, speak less, obey. If your life is truly threatened, go to Luoyan Peak—that is Qingcheng’s base. I must leave first. The spring’s potency is strongest within two hours.”

With that, he patted Zhou Qian’s shoulder and flew off with a sword immortal unknown to Zhou Qian.

Zhou Qian’s heart sank. How could the righteous sect’s conduct resemble that of the demon gates?

Unconsciously looking down, he was shocked. The sparsely scattered small peaks had been replaced by a swiftly concealed mountain range, shrouded in mist and floating rosy clouds. Dozens of peaks thousands of feet tall rose, some spiritual palaces and hidden mansions formed by condensed qi and clouds, others like jade ponds and emerald marshes nestled at the four corners, or adorned with pearl trees and jade forests sparsely above—immortal realms beyond mortal imagination, utterly transcendent.

Is this where sword immortals cultivate? Is this the true world of heaven and earth?