Chapter 98 – Originally, There Were No Immortals

A downpour and purple lightning collapsed from the heavy black clouds together.

The torrential rain washed over the cracked pavement, converging into a rushing river. Shattered glass of all colors and brightly colored paper spun in the water’s surface. A pale hand reached into the cold water and fished out a sheet of paper covered in text.

The paper was soaked through, but the writing was still legible. It was a loose page from some book on the origins of ancient astronomy, studying how the magnificent mythological image of “Kuafu chasing the sun” originated from some kind of primeval memory… The incomplete page suggested that Kuafu chasing the sun was a vestige of the ancient people’s practice of determining the calendar by observing shadows.

Shi Wuluo closed his eyes in anguish.

An ancient god’s dream, a dream of ten thousand years, dreaming of past obsessions, of flowers that never fade, of pines that never wither. An obsession too heavy would evolve into a small, ethereal world, seemingly real yet false. Desires and wishes from the dream would deceive reality. That was why Moon Mother guarded the Vicious Plow Earth-Mound for ten thousand years, her people turning into walking corpses that still rose with the sun and rested at sunset. That was why the Fire-Hater Race slumbered on a lonely island where a vast peach grove bloomed eternally without wilting.

This was called an “Illusory World.”

But Chou Bodeng’s Illusory World had always been hidden deep within his heart.

In the past, Taiyi and the Witch Clan had thought it was because he was too heavily injured, his divine soul shattered, and thus his Illusory World was ethereal and had never leaked out.

But what was the truth?

What was the truth?

“…It’s that you remember everything.”

Shi Wuluo looked up, his voice hoarse.

He saw the rain surging and the dark clouds hanging low. Skyscrapers collapsed one after another, their steel skeletons twisting into primeval giant serpents. Broad avenues cracked open one by one, and black fog rolled out, tearing apart all the beautified facades. Flesh peeled off the passing pedestrians piece by piece, and in an instant, they turned into tens of thousands of skeletons.

The skeletons wailed.

The past, twisted into myth; the sins, never forgotten. He remembered everything, had forgotten nothing… How could someone who couldn’t even deceive himself deceive reality?

The bustling clouds of smoke were fake, the willful indulgence was fake, the thousand doting affections were fake. For all these past years, the person he loved most had been living in hell, with no escape.

Shi Wuluo released his hand. The damp paper fell back into the murky rainwater and was swept away in an instant. But soon, new sheets of paper flowed down with the vast torrent of rain. He waded upstream against the current, the hem of his black robes spreading in the rain-washed water. He showed not a single trace of surprise at the strange and peculiar scenery around him.

The further up he went, the more paper floated down with the current.

Further on, the surface of the river formed by the rain was completely covered with pages. Old papers and ancient scrolls were piled up in layers, like the heavy ash that had settled in the bottom of his heart.

At the end of the river, Shi Wuluo saw the only cluster of buildings that had not yet collapsed.

Grayish-white bricks, walls covered in ivy, an old plaque with the school’s motto of self-reliance. The papers were flowing out incessantly from under the diamond-patterned iron gate. Faintly, he could hear a hound pacing back and forth along the wall behind the gate, constantly looking up and barking at the skeletons outside—its voice was deep and majestic, just like the old Celestial Hound that guarded the mountain gate of the Taiyi Sect.

Shi Wuluo placed his hand on the iron gate.

***

Boom—

A hole was blasted in the stone wall, and dust and rubble flew inward.

Three figures scrambled out of the dust, tumbling and crawling.

“Cough, cough—”

Half-Diviner was halfway through a cough when Monk Budu clamped a hand tightly over his mouth. The remaining half of his breath was forced back into his throat, choking him so badly that his eyes rolled back and his handsome, pale face turned a dark shade of purple.

“Monk, you’re going to choke the Daoist to death.”

Lu Jing scrambled up, covered in dust, his face a mask of alarm.

Monk Budu quickly let go and explained awkwardly, “This humble monk was just afraid that the pointy-nose’s coughing was too loud and would get us discovered.”

Half-Diviner, having escaped death, took several deep breaths with tears in his eyes, then flew into a rage and kicked Monk Budu squarely in the rear, sending him back into the pile of rubble. He cursed, “You damned bald donkey, can’t you use your brain for a second? Wasn’t the sound of us blasting the hole louder than me coughing twice? This Daoist thinks you were intentionally trying to murder me for my money.”

Monk Budu, in the wrong, couldn’t retort, and could only mutter things like, “This humble monk is the creditor. If I were to commit murder, I’d have to get my money back first.”

“…”

This time, Half-Diviner heard nothing. He turned his head and began to survey the eye of the grand formation they had finally reached.

The reason the three of them were here was a rather long story.

That day, after finding out that Ghost Valley was setting up the formation on Niuyang Mountain, the three scions pondered all the way. They figured that with their meager skills, trying to destroy the formation beforehand was nothing but a fool’s dream. After much deliberation, they finally came up with a crooked plan. Since it was common knowledge that they were good friends with Chou Bodeng, the three of them didn’t bother with disguises. They marched straight to Niuyang Mountain, even finding a large banner on which the great writer Lu had grandly inscribed four large characters:

Brothers in Life and Death, a Blade Between the Ribs for a Friend.

Afterward, the three of them carried this banner, which announced their intentions to the world, and openly ran to the foot of Niuyang Mountain. They planted the flag and began their daily, loud, and dramatic “feat” of “storming the altar.” It was called a feat, but in reality, it was just the three of them taking turns to charge up the mountain, only to be unceremoniously thrown back down by the exasperated immortal sect elders stationed there before they could get very high. Despite repeated defeats, the three of them fought on, becoming a well-known joke in western Yongzhou for a time.

On the side of Medicine Valley, Ghost Valley, and the Buddhist Sect, Lu Chenchuan, on one hand, felt guilty about his younger brother’s accusations that day, and on the other, wanted him to hit a wall and learn that some things were beyond human effort, so he tacitly allowed his mountain-storming behavior.

The Buddhist Sect’s Xiaolian Mile was a bit more realistic… Although Monk Budu was young, he held the title of “Buddhist Saint,” and his status in the sect was even higher than his own. As long as he didn’t do anything to harm the Buddhist Sect, Xiaolian Mile found it inconvenient to interfere.

The Ghost Valley school had always advocated “non-action” and “naturalness.” Elder Mu He was famous for not meddling in affairs. When the other Ghost Valley disciples went to persuade Half-Diviner, he had only one sentence for them: “Are my dear martial nephews planning to help their martial uncle pay back his debts?”—It was said that for every time he stormed the mountain, Zuo Yuesheng of the Mountain Sea Pavilion would pay him a hundred taels of silver. The Ghost Valley disciples were immediately defeated and fled, covering their faces.

That left only the people of Wind Flower Valley, who were responsible for setting up the altar on Niuyang Mountain, to be tormented by these three scions.

If they dealt with them properly… the three’s cultivation levels were plain to see. When they stormed the mountain, a wave of the hand was enough to repel them. They didn’t get angry after being beaten up; they would just rest at the foot of the mountain for a while and then come back full of life, like a stubborn plaster. But if they were to get serious and drive them out of Niuyang Mountain, they would really fight to the death. Wind Flower Valley was afraid of accidentally injuring them and having to answer to Medicine Valley, Ghost Valley, and the Buddhist Sect, so they could only grit their teeth and throw them down the mountain every day, swallowing their frustration.

After all, what kind of trouble could three scions stir up?

—They really did stir up trouble.

On the surface, they were making a great show of trying to storm the altar, becoming the joke of the moment. But behind the scenes, Half-Diviner used the power of the Star-Pushing Plate to calculate the “Kun position” corresponding to the death gate of the thousand-mile grand formation. Then, Lu Jing, combining ancient methods recorded in the Poison Classic and the Medicine Codex, found two hibernating Mountain-Piercing Beasts at the bottom of Niuyang Mountain. Then, Monk Budu stepped in, using threats and inducements to “ferry” these two Mountain-Piercing Beasts, persuading them to dig a tunnel for the three of them.

These Mountain-Piercing Beasts had lived deep underground for a long time and were born with the ability to pierce through walls and rock. The underground of western Yongzhou was riddled with tunnels they had dug, forming a dense network. It also happened to be the season when the beasts were digging holes to store food. Even if a powerful immortal sect member detected the movement deep underground, they would see it was just two Mountain-Piercing Beasts and not become suspicious.

And so, by “openly storming Niuyang, secretly crossing Yu Mountain,” the three of them were “escorted” back to Xuan City this evening. After waiting for everyone to leave for the formation, they immediately dove into the tunnel and ran for their lives.

“Pointy-nose,” Lu Jing asked suspiciously after looking around, “are you sure you didn’t miscalculate?”

After blasting through the rock wall, they had rolled into a slightly spacious cave. Water dripped continuously from the stalactites above, landing on the backs of their necks with a bone-chilling cold. Monk Budu took off his Bodhi Clarity Beads to use as a light source. He held it up and illuminated the surroundings.

The place was filled with strange rocks and a small underground river.

It didn’t look like any “Kun position” at all.

“I shouldn’t have miscalculated,” Half-Diviner said, taking out his Star-Pushing Plate and fiddling with it as he explained. “The Kun position is a term from Ghost Valley’s Mysterious Gates and Hidden Jia Arts; it defines the death gate of a grand formation. Divination and the Mysterious Gates and Hidden Jia Arts are interconnected. Elder Mu He’s military divination is renowned even in our Ghost Valley for its uncanny ability. For just the few of us to try and break Elder Mu’s formation is like a fool’s dream. The reason this Daoist was able to calculate the position of this death gate is not only because the Star-Pushing Plate is one of the three great ancient divination tools, but also because this thousand-mile grand formation was not entirely handled by Ghost Valley disciples. There’s a certain stagnation in the interaction of auras.”

“So?” Lu Jing was impatient with his long-winded explanation. “Speak human.”

Half-Diviner patiently continued, “The Cloud Dream Tortoise Divination needs to use the rising aura to set up the formation. It requires placing an object related to the aura of the person to be vanquished at the eight aura convergence points: Qian, Kan, Gen, Zhen, Xun, Li, Kun, and Dui. The only thing we can do is try to destroy the object related to Benefactor Chou’s aura in this death gate.”

“And if we destroy it, the formation will be broken?”

Lu Jing asked upon hearing this.

“…If it could be broken that easily, why would we need to openly storm and secretly cross?” Half-Diviner was choked by his words. “If we destroy the object related to Benefactor Chou in the Kun position, a sliver of life will appear in the death gate. This Daoist thinks that the Head Shaman should be able to use this opportunity to help Benefactor Chou escape.”

Lu Jing only half-understood and muttered, “That’s pretty lame… Going through all this trouble, spending so much effort, just to fight for a sliver of an opportunity.”

However, he also knew that with the abilities of the three of them, they couldn’t ask for much more. He shook the rubble off his clothes and began to search for the object in this Kun position that was related to Chou Bodeng’s aura.

While they were talking, Monk Budu had already been inspecting the area with his Clarity Beads held high.

Suddenly, he pointed to a spot not far away and shouted, “There’s something over there!”

As he shouted, he had already moved over. When Lu Jing and Half-Diviner caught up, they saw him standing motionless on a plaza, as if he had seen something incredibly unbelievable.

“Monk? Monk!”

Lu Jing called out to him twice.

Monk Budu didn’t answer, still staring intently at the ground.

Lu Jing took two quick steps forward and finally realized that the so-called “plaza” was paved with massive, flat stones. These stones were so huge that at first, they had thought the cave was incredibly spacious. Although the stones were enormous, they were all broken. The fractured edges seemed to fit together, and the upward-facing surfaces were smooth and carved with text, as if… as if these stones were once part of some ancient stele, shaved off and shattered, and now found and pieced back together.

Lu Jing then thought his association was absurd and laughable.

If the fragments alone took up half the cave, if such a stele truly existed, wouldn’t it have to be as large as a cliff face?

…Wait.

Lu Jing was suddenly startled.

There really was such an incredibly large stele in the Twelve Continents once! It was an ancient stone carved with celestial runes, and it stood in the center of the Fan Forest in Lan Continent. Historians transcribed the celestial runes from the ancient stone, translating them into the Records of Ancient Stone Steles. They called the history recorded in the Records of Ancient Stone Steles the “Primeval Era” and the history represented by the missing parts of the ancient stone the “Middle Antiquity.”

The Middle Antiquity was difficult to trace, and a comprehensive history was hard to compile.

Thus, historians said of the Twelve Continents, “Every family has its history, but the continents have no annals.”

Realizing this, Lu Jing instantly understood Monk Budu’s strange behavior—in the Kun position, the thing related to Chou Bodeng’s aura was the missing part of the ancient stone stele records? It was that mysterious and confusing history of the Middle Antiquity?

He rushed forward, wanting to see what was recorded on the stele fragments, only to find that he couldn’t understand a single character. He turned to look around and saw that Half-Diviner had the same reaction. Only Monk Budu was staring blankly at the stone stele, his face deathly pale.

“…Originally, there were no monks,” Monk Budu recited the characters on it, his voice so empty it seemed to come from ancient times. “Originally, there were no Daoists, no scholars, no warriors, no artisans… Originally, there were no immortals.”

Originally, there were no Daoists, no scholars, no warriors, no artisans.

Originally, there were no immortals.

Even Lu Jing was shaken by this, his mind rumbling as if with muffled thunder.

Cultivators who attained the Great Dao became immortals; the history of the Twelve Continents was practically the history of immortals. For Lu Jing and Half-Diviner, who were from immortal sects, this was an undeniable fact… However, the meaning of this fragmented ancient stone stele record was clearly that in the Middle Antiquity, and even earlier in the Primeval Era, cultivators did not exist in the Twelve Continents!

“…In a year of great calamity, the Divine Lord observed that the four poles were not yet established, the four seasons were not in order, the thick earth was shrouded in miasma, and plagues were rampant. The common people could not survive. Thus, he established teachings with the Dao and bestowed them upon the wise and holy… Those who ascended the Incomplete Mountain to attain the Dao were thus called ‘Immortals’.”

Monk Budu turned to look at Lu Jing and Half-Diviner, his face pale.

“What are outstanding medical cultivators often praised as? And Daoists? What about the founding ancestors of the immortal sects?”

Lu Jing and Half-Diviner both took a step back.

They knew this question all too well. The paragons of medical cultivation were often called “Medical Saints,” and the leaders of Daoists were called “Dao Sages”! Whether it was saber cultivators, sword cultivators, Buddhists, Confucians, or Daoists… they all had similar titles! But long before that, at the very beginning, it was the founding ancestors of the immortal sects who were called that!

“Do you remember that saying?” Monk Budu’s voice was hoarse. “The God bestowed the Dao upon the holy and wise, who then spread the Dao throughout the world. Thus, it is our duty as cultivators to protect the common people.”

Lu Jing staggered and sat down on the ground.

How could he not remember?

Any cultivator would know this saying; it was the mission of all cultivators! But this saying had been circulating in the Twelve Continents for tens of thousands of years, always just a maxim that seemed to be following the Mandate of Heaven. The so-called “God” was thought to be the Heavenly Dao, or perhaps the former Heaven Beyond Heavens.

“It’s not the Heavenly Dao, not the Heaven Beyond Heavens. The ‘God’ in ‘God bestowed upon the holy and wise’ refers to only one…” Monk Budu stared at them, enunciating each word. “The Divine Lord! He is the Divine Lord! He is the Divine Lord!”

Lu Jing and Half-Diviner’s minds suddenly buzzed with a deafening roar.

An unspeakable, deathly silence filled the entire stone cave.

A tremendous shock pressed down on all three of them… No matter how dissolute, how profligate, how mischievous, how rebellious they were, the immortal sects had always left a deep mark on them. Subconsciously, they had always been proud of their immortal sects, but today, that pride was suddenly shattered.

After a long silence, Lu Jing suddenly jumped up.

“It must be a mistake!” Lu Jing shouted, on the verge of a breakdown. He turned to run towards the stone path. “Isn’t he the Divine Lord?! Didn’t he bestow the Dao upon the common people?! The immortal sects all received the Dao from him, so how could they set up a formation to kill him… Isn’t that… isn’t that…”

“Ungrateful?”

Lu Jing stopped dead in his tracks.

A second torch lit up in the darkness.

The firelight illuminated a seductive face with long, narrow eyes, a deep blue at the corners.

Moon Mother!

Half-Diviner grabbed Lu Jing and dragged him back. Monk Budu tightened his grip on his Clarity Beads, took a step forward, and shielded the other two behind him.

All three of them tensed up, cold sweat trickling down their backs. The calamity in Zhunan had left them with a deep impression of this beautiful and crazed woman. They didn’t even have time to wonder why she was here before they were suffocated by the silent, deadly crisis that filled the air.

Moon Mother didn’t attack directly.

She raised the torch high, and the firelight suddenly scattered, illuminating the ancient stone fragments that had been brought here.

“What’s so surprising?” she looked at Lu Jing and giggled. “This isn’t the first time you immortal sects have been ungrateful… Medicine Valley, wasn’t it? Weren’t you the ones who stopped him at Yi Hills back then?”

“You’re lying!”

Lu Jing blurted out.

“I’m lying?” Moon Mother chuckled softly, then suddenly threw the torch forward, illuminating the entire cave. Her figure abruptly vanished and then reappeared in front of the three of them. “Then what are your immortal sects doing right now?”

“Get back!”

Monk Budu shouted, raising his Bodhi Clarity Beads.