The mountains looked as though they had been painted in ink. They were black and shadowed, streaked with mist that half-veiled, half-revealed their shape. In the distance, a tall peak loomed, with a waterfall cascading silently down its side. The grasses on the summit were fine as threads, and black as well. Behind it all, an old pine tree bent low with its branches like a pavilion’s canopy, and everything rendered in shades of ink. Beneath the pine stood a desk and a pot of tea. A Daoist sat cross-legged before it, a figure that seemed no different from one in a brush-and-ink painting. From the distant sky, an Immortal Elder rode a white crane toward him, trailed by two young immortals on cranes of their own. The old man wore white robes, his hair silver but his face youthful, glowing with divine light. He and the children were the only color in this entire ink-washed world. In this silent realm, only the cranes' long cries echoed. The immortal elder descended atop the mountain. The Daoist had already risen and bowed in greeting. “Greetings, Immortal Elder.” “Such formality, I hardly deserve it,” the elder replied as he stepped off the crane. He had kindly brows and eyes, a bearing both immortal and refined. He returned the bow and said warmly, “Forgive me for coming uninvited. I hope I have not disturbed you.” “Not at all,” Song You said, sitting down again and gesturing for the elder to do the same. “I’ve been waiting here for you for quite some time.” The Immortal Elder of Green Wood took his seat. His mind was full of thought, though his expression betrayed nothing. On the table were a teapot and two cups, and the Daoist picked up the pot. Until now, this dream-world had held only the cry of cranes and their brief words. Even the wind had made no sound, and water had flowed in silence. But now, the pour of tea added a third voice. Immortal Elder of Green Wood took a gentle breath, and he could smell the tea. The fragrance was light but not faint, aromatic but not overpowering. It smelled ethereal and refined. “Fine tea indeed,” the Immortal Elder murmured, but he didn’t rush into the heart of the matter. Instead, he looked around at their surroundings and offered another comment, “And a fine view.” The tea was now poured. At the host’s gesture, the Immortal Elder respectfully picked up the teacup, first offering a bow of thanks. Only then did he look into the cup. The porcelain seemed brushed with pale ink, and the liquid inside was even more faint in tone. At the center floated a single bud of tea, sketched in deeper black like the stroke of a master’s brush. It let off thin tendrils of steam as though warmed by a spring day, and the aroma within was deep and rich. The immortal cranes danced and circled through the ink-painted mountains behind them. From above, black pine needles drifted gently down. The Immortal Elder lowered his head and took a sip of the tea. “Excellent tea,” he praised again. Only then did he tentatively speak to the Daoist across from him, “I hadn’t expected that Your Excellency would have such mastery over the realm of dreams as well.” “Immortal Elder, you jest,” Song You replied, also raising his cup for a sip. His every movement bore the grace of a refined scholar. He then set the cup down and added, “I’ve only lived for a few decades, which is hardly enough time to be good at everything. But ten years ago, I once invited Divine Lord Yuewang into a dream for a casual conversation. The Lord has great cultivation and refined tastes. He found my dream too crude, so he demonstrated a few techniques. What you see here is the result.” He paused a moment before continuing, “I have no great talents. My understanding of the dream realm is shallow at best. What you see is simply me doing my utmost to recreate it from memory, but even then, it falls short. I hope you won’t mind.” “Not at all,” Immortal Elder of Green Wood replied politely. This brief exchange served several purposes, like easing the atmosphere, closing the distance between them, and giving him time to collect his thoughts. It was a small gesture with many benefits. After a short pause, the Immortal Elder got to the heart of the matter. “Your Excellency is truly bold, daring to go against the Heavenly Palace. But for something of such scale… why inform an old man like me ahead of time?” “Because you, Immortal Elder, are a god of virtue and integrity. You’re a senior of many years, respected by all, and an old acquaintance. A matter this serious should naturally be brought to your attention.” “In my mortal life I may have had some virtue,” Immortal Elder of Green Wood said, shaking his head, “but age has caught up with me, my abilities are weak, and my incense offerings grow thinner by the year. If not for that conversation with you on behalf of the Celestial Emperor, and the special incense he later granted me, I’d likely already be on the path to oblivion.” He looked to the two immortal children behind him. “These two have followed me for over eight hundred years. Please, speak freely.” “Because I suspected the Chijin Emperor would send you, Immortal Elder, to meet with me.” “I’m only a messenger,” the elder said lightly. “Then, Immortal Elder, how do you plan to persuade me?” “...” Immortal Elder of Green Wood fell silent. He had indeed come under the Celestial Emperor’s orders, and not merely to deliver a message. He was to sound out Song You’s intent, to try to persuade him to give up, or even negotiate if possible. But now, sitting here, everything in this Daoist’s expression and tone made it clear that this was no sudden whim, but a decision forged over many years. No words of his would change that. The fact that Song You had already predicted the Emperor would send him, and had prepared this dream accordingly, made it clear how little room there was for persuasion. “There’s really no need to go this far. No matter who holds the throne of Heaven, things will always be this way. It won’t affect Hidden Dragon Temple’s cultivation or place in the mortal world.” “Far more than you can imagine,” the Daoist replied calmly. “Especially for me.” The Immortal Elder fell silent once more, then said, “Even so, fellow Daoist Master, there are gentler methods… and more suitable moments.” “It cannot be delayed.” “Why not?” ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ N0velFire.ɴet “Because I hold a grand plan in my heart.” Immortal Elder of Green Wood met his gaze. It seemed he understood, yet also did not. But what he did understand for certain was that there was no room for compromise. This Daoist would not be swayed. He had merely said a few probing words to fulfill the Celestial Emperor’s request. “Then… how should I answer the Celestial Emperor upon my return?” “I seek only to rebuild the Ascension Path, nothing more.” “Truly nothing more?” “That is the case for now.” “If I answer that way… I fear it won’t satisfy His Majesty.” “Then tell him this: no matter how he questions, how he speaks to me, I will only give this one answer.” “...” Immortal Elder of Green Wood slowly rose to his feet, his body showing his years. He cupped his hands in farewell and said, “If that’s all, I fear the Celestial Emperor will not let it rest. He may send me to disturb you again...” “There will always be a cup of tea ready to welcome you, Immortal Elder.” “Since that’s the case, it seems Your Excellency will be quite busy tonight. I won’t keep you, farewell...” “Take care, Immortal Elder.” “May Your Excellency proceed with caution and take care as well.” The Immortal Elder turned and took a few steps. Behind him, the three immortal cranes that had been circling in the ink-wash mountains finally flew down in a line and landed gracefully, waiting for the immortal and his attendants to mount. The cranes took a few steps forward, spread their wings, and with two strong beats, lifted off. Not long after, they disappeared into the painted sky. Only the Daoist was left sitting alone beneath the pine, drinking tea in the mountains. He finished the cup, closed his eyes for a moment in quiet thought, and when he opened them again, a wave of his hand dispelled everything. In the chaos of the dreamscape, gods began to arrive one after another. “…Overestimating yourself...” “…What is your true intent?” “…Far too arrogant...” “…The timing is wrong...” “…The promise of years past...” So many voices, with differing tones and attitudes, murmured like half-remembered dreams in the Daoist’s ears. It was already early the next morning without him realizing. From the chicken coop of a distant temple came the crowing of roosters, rousing the Daoist from his slumber, and also waking the cat who had been dozing on the table. Both opened their eyes at the same time and glanced outside; the sky was just beginning to lighten, and the sound of Daoist morning chanting echoed from within the temple. “Ah...” Song You let out a sigh before getting out of bed. The calico cat on the table had been staring out the window, searching for the direction the rooster's crow came from while alertly scanning the surroundings for anything unusual. When she heard her Daoist getting up, she turned her head to watch him sit up from bed and asked, “Daoist priest, are you awake now, meow?” “Did you sleep well, meow?” “Quite well,” the Daoist replied, then asked in return, “Was there any unusual activity last night?” “There were footsteps outside,” the calico said seriously. “I suspected it was a god from the heavens, but the swallow said it was just a Daoist getting up at night. Then the chickens in the coop started hopping around again. Swallow said it was a weasel. Aside from that, nothing else happened. Very safe.” “It’s all thanks to you keeping watch through the night that I could sleep so soundly.” “Now that it’s morning, it’s time to change shifts.” “Now it’s my turn to stay awake, and you can go rest.” Song You paused for a moment. “I’ll be awake during the day anyway. If I need your help, I’ll be sure to call for you.” “You don’t need help, meow?” “Are you going to duel with the gods from the heavens?” “Is it going to be really hard?” “...?” The cat stared at him suspiciously. “Did you pick up my habit of bragging all the time?” “Hmm? You have that habit? Why have I never noticed it?” “Uhh, I made that up...” The cat shook her head so vigorously that her facial features nearly blurred. “We’re staying in the temple today, meow?” “We’ll stay here this morning, but we shouldn’t linger too long. After breakfast, I’ll need to bid farewell to Daoist Zhuchengzi,” Song You said to her. “You should go rest for now, to have the energy later. I’ll still need you to guide me to Mount Zunzhe in Yaozhou.” “That's right. We mustn’t lose our way.” Upon hearing this, the cat’s expression turned solemn, as if burdened with a great responsibility. She immediately lay down and tucked her head in, not daring to waste a single moment—just wanting to fall asleep as quickly as possible. The Daoist smiled faintly, then went to wash up and stepped outside. At the turn of winter and spring, the mountain was heavy with mist. The entire Daoist temple was shrouded in thick morning fog. Palaces, pavilions, long corridors and terraces—under their stillness came the steadily growing sound of scripture chanting from afar. The Daoist walking alone through it all had a steady gait, as if he wasn’t walking in the human world at all. The sky hadn’t fully brightened, and the fog was dense. The chill of early morning had the bite of winter. Song You saw a young Daoist child wrapped in thick garments hurrying by with a bucket of water. The water sloshed noisily within, occasionally splashing to the ground. He also saw the kitchen fires burning, their red glow shining faintly through the fog. He saw the Daoists performing morning recitation, gathered inside the main hall reading the Daoist scriptures. A fire burned in the center, and he couldn’t help but draw closer to the warmth. He also saw Zhuchengzi standing at the doorway of the main hall. “Did you sleep well, fellow Daoist?” The moment Zhuchengzi saw him, he gave a respectful greeting and asked. “My dreams were chaotic, so I didn’t sleep all that well.” “It must be the damp bedding in the mountain air.” “I’ve come to thank you and say farewell,” Song You replied. “Thank you for your hospitality, and for the incense you gifted me. I have other matters to attend to and must leave this morning.” Zhuchengzi wasn’t sure whether or not he should try to persuade him to stay a while longer. Such a true immortal walking the mortal world was a powerful figure among men; and he not only possessed cultivation and Daoist skill, but also virtue and courage. Even knowing the danger, one would still wish to spend a few more days in his company. It seemed a shame not to try. But to ask him to stay, it was something he didn’t quite dare. His own life was one man’s life. But when immortals engaged in battle, the heavens shook, the seas surged, the earth quaked. Fengtian Temple housed more than just him. “If you’re leaving this morning, then please at least stay for breakfast before you go.” “It’s the least I can do.” Zhuchengzi quickly turned to give instructions. Soon the sky had fully brightened. After calling Lady Calico for breakfast, Song You packed his things, said his farewells to Zhuchengzi, and left. All the Daoist priests of Fengtian Temple, from senior to junior, came out to see him off. They stood together amid the thick mist, gazing down at the ancient stone path that wound through the forest-covered mountain below. The path was blanketed in moss and vanished into the fog and trees, with no end in sight. The Daoist, carrying his pouch and accompanied by the calico cat, made his way down the mountain. His figure receded step by step, never once looking back, and soon disappeared completely into the mist. Only then did the priests begin to murmur quietly among themselves. “So that was the rumored successor of the Hidden Dragon Temple?” “His bearing truly is exceptional...” “A pity we didn’t get to discuss the Heavenly Dao, the mortal realm, or cultivation techniques with him, that’s a real regret.” “But even if he's a successor of Hidden Dragon Temple, the temple owner still counts as his senior, doesn't he? Why was he so respectful?” “Isn’t he the one responsible for subduing demons in the northern regions?” “I heard that the successors of Hidden Dragon Temple differ from generation to generation, each has their own strengths and personalities. Some command great respect, like Daoist Tiansuan or Grandmaster Fuyang. Others are more frivolous. I wonder what this generation's successor excels at, aside from demon-slaying and exorcism? Has he accomplished anything else?” Only the temple owner, Zhuchengzi, continued to gaze into the mist, long without a word. It wasn’t until an elder Daoist quietly asked beside him, “Senior Brother, I truly don’t know why the current successor of Hidden Dragon Temple came to visit. Was it just a passing stop on his journey? But he didn’t seem hurried. Could it have something to do with Junior Brother Changyuanzi, or perhaps Miaohuazi’s recent actions? Did he come to warn or test us?” “You’re overthinking it,” Zhuchengzi said, sighing deeply, his heart filled with complex emotions. “This is a small matter, no more.” “Oh? Then what did he come for?” “...” Zhuchengzi still gazed into the distance. Only after a long while did he shake his head and speak as if in deep reflection, “In this mortal world, there are none left who can rival him, he now carries his sword to question the gods.” Silence fell instantly around them. Not a bird chirped, not a sound was heard—only the mountain gate shrouded in mist. The forest was withered, life yet to awaken for spring. Sunlight struggled to pierce the dense fog. Within that mist, they seemed to hear the sound of wind. Looking up, they caught a faint glimpse of a giant celestial crane, riding the wind and flying into the distance. It painted a vivid image in their minds of that crane soaring over the misty forests of morning, rising into the clouds of the heavens. Mount Luming lay at the border of Pingzhou and Yaozhou. The nearest Heaven's Ascension Path from Mount Luming was at Mount Zunzhe. Mount Zunzhe, in turn, sat on the border of Yaozhou and Langzhou. Though it seemed like the Daoist had taken a long and winding route—traveling through Pingzhou, heading north through Jingzhou and Angzhou, making his way to the capital Changjing, then venturing through the northern lands and lingering long in Fengzhou—he was in fact doing so deliberately, circling through every prefecture under Heaven. Had he gone east from Pingzhou, he would have arrived directly at Yaozhou. Now, he rode a celestial crane, rising straight into the clouds. Guided by the swallow, he was flying toward Mount Zunzhe in Yaozhou. There was no hesitation. This was where it would begin. He would seal one path first, and let the Divine Elder and the gods witness the resolve of the current successor of Hidden Dragon Temple. But halfway through the journey, the Daoist suddenly furrowed his brows. He felt something and vaguely sensed that a thread of spiritual energy from years ago, a talisman he had once left behind, had just now… been activated. The location was just off the coast of Langzhou.