Time passed and circumstances changed. The sun and moon alternated.
More than half a month had already gone by since Shen Ci could walk upon the ground.
During this half month the days on Shen Cang Mountain proceeded according to routine.
Every morning Sang Zhi would take Shen Ci to the lakeside behind the great hall.
The young girl displayed an almost harsh obsession toward Shen Ci’s cultivation.
She would remain by his side without leaving a single step, continuously repeating the circulation incantations of the Purple Yang Profound Record and urging Shen Ci to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth.
Day after day, rain or shine.
Shen Ci offered no resistance whatsoever.
Every day he sat upright upon the green stone, adopting the posture of the five hearts facing heaven, silent as withered wood.
But in the deep nights that Sang Zhi could not see.
When all was silent and the moonlight poured like water, Shen Ci did not sleep.
He sat cross-legged upon the bed and awakened within his sea of consciousness the supreme inheritance of the Qingming Dao Sect from his previous life—the Qingming Dao Canon.
This was a Heaven-reaching technique created in a desperate environment saturated with corpse miasma.
Its core lay in “devouring” and “suppressing,” forcibly dragging the turbid miasma of the outside world into the body and ultimately transforming it into one’s own vast true essence.
In the Nine Provinces of old, this technique had produced the Flawless Dao Son who appeared only once in ten thousand years and had accomplished the peerless feat of severing the Heavenly Gate with a single sword.
Shen Ci closed his eyes and began to draw upon the spiritual energy of Shen Cang Mountain according to the method of the Qingming Dao Canon.
The technique circulated. All meridians opened.
After the time of one incense stick.
Shen Ci slowly opened his eyes and calmed the turbulence within his meridians.
It would not work.
The Qingming Dao Canon had failed.
This was not because the technique itself contained flaws, but because the era had changed.
The present Shen Cang Mountain was filled with vast and pure spiritual energy.
This pure power was like clear spring water.
Yet the meridian pathways of the Qingming Dao Canon were a giant net specially forged to capture violent corpse miasma.
Spring water passing through a giant net could only flow away; it could not be retained or transformed within the dantian at all.
In summary, the dharma boat of the old era… could not cross the vast sea of the new era.
This predicament was also within Shen Ci’s expectations.
The Heavenly Dao cycles, and the myriad methods change.
In the former Nine Provinces the fall of the extraterritorial divine corpse had altered the laws.
Cultivators had been forced to seek survival within corpse miasma and had thus evolved techniques that adapted to the times.
Now that the divine corpse had been destroyed and heaven and earth had returned to clarity, it was only natural that the techniques of the old days would be rejected by the new era.
Those who go against the heavens must first adapt to the times of heaven.
Since the supreme dao canon of the past had already become a waste volume, Shen Ci no longer clung to it.
He gathered his thoughts and instead turned his attention back to the Purple Yang Profound Record that Sang Zhi had taught him during the day.
In the eyes of a cultivator like Shen Ci who had once set foot upon the absolute peak of the Nine Provinces, the qi-circulation route of the Purple Yang Profound Record could be called extremely crude.
Its sole function was to pour yang-attribute spiritual energy from the outside world directly into the four limbs and hundred bones.
Compared to the heavenly-cycle evolution of the Qingming Dao Canon that was as complex as the stars.
The Purple Yang Profound Record was like a wooden bucket used by a common villager to carry water—simple, pursuing only the single character of “quantity.”
Shen Ci sank his mind and, following the trajectory of the Purple Yang Profound Record, drew in a strand of spiritual energy.
There was no obstruction whatsoever.
Pure spiritual energy surged in through the Baihui acupoint, raced downward along the broadest main meridians, and finally gathered within the qi sea.
After merely one great heavenly cycle.
Shen Ci’s meridians were filled with spiritual energy, and a portion of spiritual energy had accumulated within his dantian.
One cycle of breathing, drawing qi into the body.
The first layer of Qi Refining was thereby achieved.
Shen Ci withdrew the dao method and opened his eyes to look at the waning moon outside the window.
He did not even need to deliberately cultivate. With only a slight guidance this mortal body could easily accept the gifts of this realm of heaven and earth.
Yet he did not continue to assault the second layer of Qi Refining.
***
The next morning.
When Shen Ci, sitting upon the green stone in the rear courtyard of the Longevity Palace, displayed the cultivation of the first layer of Qi Refining according to the Purple Yang Profound Record.
Sang Zhi, who had been sitting to the side, abruptly stood up.
The young girl clasped both hands before her chest and stood frozen in place.
“You… you’ve drawn qi into your body?”
Shen Ci slowly withdrew his power, exhaled a breath of turbid air from within, and nodded.
“A stroke of luck.”
“What luck is that!”
Sang Zhi’s entire person leapt with excitement. She spun a circle on the spot and then hurried forward to stand before Shen Ci.
She seized Shen Ci’s arm at once, separated a strand of spiritual energy, and probed the condition inside his body.
After confirming that it was pure Purple Yang qi, she let out a long breath of relief.
“Half a month has passed. You have finally taken this step.”
In her perspective Shen Ci had endured this half month of unceasing bitter cultivation day and night before barely knocking open the gate of cultivation.
This “aptitude” truly could not be considered outstanding on Shen Cang Mountain, yet Sang Zhi appeared more agitated than anyone else.
She hummed twice, patted Shen Ci’s shoulder, and assumed the mature posture of someone who had been through it.
“Everything is difficult at the beginning. Now that you have crossed this threshold, what remains is the accumulation of quantity.”
“As long as you absorb more spiritual energy to transform your body, you will soon be able to reach my realm.”
She tilted her head up, gazed at Shen Ci, and the smile at the corners of her mouth could not be concealed at all.
“When that time comes we will be able to jointly cultivate the combined-attack methods passed down by the divine hall, prepare for Foundation Establishment together, and go to the White Jade Capital together.”
Looking at the young girl’s joy that did not seem feigned, Shen Ci smiled and nodded.
“Thank you, Sang Zhi, for protecting the law these past half month.”
“This is what I ought to do. Who told us we are fated ones?”
Sang Zhi answered as a matter of course, then pulled Shen Ci along and urged him to continue consolidating his realm.
……
***
The days continued to flow in peace.
With Shen Ci stepping into the Qi Refining stage he gradually gained a certain qualification to move about in front of others on this Shen Cang Mountain.
During this half month he had become acquainted with a few “friends.”
Saying “friends” was actually only referring to the few people Sang Zhi was somewhat familiar with upon this mountain peak of strict rules.
Two young women named Yun’er and Cui’er respectively.
Like Sang Zhi they were deacon disciples responsible for tending the spiritual grain in the outer spiritual fields or guarding the mountain gate.
The other two were the “fated ones” of these two young women.
One was a tall and thin young man named Xu Han.
The other was a plump youth named Zhao Yuan.
The cultivation of these four all hovered around the seventh layer of Qi Refining.
Among the disciples of the same generation on Shen Cang Mountain they belonged to the ordinary and unremarkable sort.
Shen Ci had interacted with them several times and could be said to have a mutual understanding.
A few days earlier the six of them had gathered to chat leisurely in a stone pavilion halfway up the mountain.
At first Yun’er and Cui’er were quite interested in this “newcomer” who had only awakened after a long coma and had only just drawn qi into his body.
In their words there was much probing intent.
As they talked the topic unknowingly shifted toward the outside world.
“I heard that a few days ago the gray fog at the edge of the formation surged again. A senior brother was injured while patrolling there, lost his flying sword, and nearly lost his life.”
Xu Han lowered his voice and said.
Hearing the two words “gray fog,” everyone fell silent one after another.
Yun’er’s and Cui’er’s complexions changed slightly. Their bodies unconsciously leaned closer to their respective fated ones.
Zhao Yuan shrank his neck even more and set down the teacup in his hand.
“Don’t mention that place.” Cui’er’s voice was tight. “That is hell.”
“Yes.” Yun’er agreed, crossing both hands together.
“I heard the elders of the Longevity Palace say that the monsters in hell have no humanity.”
“If you are captured you will turn into that kind of mindless monster.”
Everyone nodded in succession, expressing their fear of the so-called “hell.”
That fear was deeply engraved into their bones.
Even while under the protection of the great formation of Shen Cang Mountain, merely mentioning that word made them feel as if they were sitting on pins and needles.
Just as everyone was as silent as cicadas in winter, someone noticed Shen Ci’s unusual calm.
He sat upright upon the stone stool, his expression indifferent, pinching a fallen leaf in his hand, seemingly unconcerned about the terrifying “hell” they spoke of.
“Shen Ci.” Xu Han could not help asking. “Aren’t you afraid of hell?”
All gazes gathered upon Shen Ci.
Shen Ci placed the fallen leaf upon the stone table, his face composed.
“I cannot remember.” He shook his head slightly. “After waking, everything of the past is a blank.”
“Since I cannot recall the appearance of that hell, there is naturally no way for fear to arise in my heart.”
Hearing this answer, the several people looked at one another.
“That shouldn’t be. Even though the Mountain Lord erased our memories, the instinctive reverence still remains in our hearts.”
“Yes, it is truly strange…” someone puzzled.
Hearing this, Sang Zhi suddenly tilted her head and spoke a word in Shen Ci’s defense.
“Perhaps… Shen Ci is not a person who came from hell.”
At these words everyone revealed expressions of sudden realization.
“So that is how it is.” Zhao Yuan sighed. “That is good as well. It has spared you the suffering.”
The several people did not inquire further into Shen Ci’s origins and merely attributed his composure to the fact that he had not come from hell.
That idle chat thus ended hastily amid gratitude toward the Mountain Lord.
……
***
Time advanced.
Tomorrow would be the first of the next month.
It was also the day set by Shen Cang Mountain when all newly awakened disciples must go to the divine hall to meet the Mountain Lord.
This morning Shen Cang Mountain was somewhat busy.
Sang Zhi had received a summons from the Longevity Palace first thing in the morning.
She, Yun’er, and Cui’er were assigned to go down the mountain and take turns patrolling the formation nodes at the outer perimeter of the spiritual fields.
The restlessness of the white fog was growing more frequent, and the outer defensive line required more disciples to reinforce it.
Before leaving, Sang Zhi specifically escorted Shen Ci to a dining hall in the outer courtyard.
“Stay here obediently and eat. Don’t run around everywhere. I’ll be back in the evening.” The young girl carefully instructed him, then turned and left.
The dining hall was rather empty.
Aside from Shen Ci there were only Xu Han and Zhao Yuan.
The three of them sat around a wooden table. Upon the table were several plates of rice cakes made from spiritual grain and a pot of clear tea.
Without the women present the seating postures of these male disciples appeared much more casual.
Zhao Yuan picked up a rice cake, bit into it absentmindedly, and then heaved a heavy sigh.
“Brother Shen, to speak from the heart.”
The plump youth chewed the rice cake, his gaze carrying undisguised envy. “Up and down this entire Shen Cang Mountain, I truly envy you.”
The hand with which Shen Ci held the teacup paused slightly.
He raised his eyes toward Zhao Yuan, his expression calm.
“What does Brother Zhao mean by that?”
“Don’t pretend to be muddle-headed when you clearly understand.”
Xu Han coldly snorted from the side and set his teacup upon the table surface.
This tall and thin young man was usually taciturn, yet at this moment he appeared somewhat irritable.
“We envy you, of course, because of Sang Zhi.”
Xu Han looked straight at Shen Ci.
“You have only just arrived and remember nothing, so of course you do not know what Sang Zhi means on this Shen Cang Mountain.”
“She arrived later than both Zhao Yuan and me. Yet her cultivation speed is astonishingly fast.”
“We spent several years on this Purple Yang Profound Record before barely stacking it up to the seventh layer of Qi Refining.”
“Yet Sang Zhi, in less than a single year, has already reached the eighth layer of Qi Refining and is only a single step away from Foundation Establishment.”
Xu Han drew a deep breath.
“Not only that. Junior Sister Sang Zhi enjoys very high prestige among the male disciples of Shen Cang Mountain.”
“Back when her cultivation was advancing by leaps and bounds, almost every male disciple of the outer courtyard was secretly watching her.”
“Everyone was waiting.”
“Waiting until they reached the age, waiting until the Mountain Lord opened the altar in the divine hall and bestowed the red strings. Everyone hoped their name would be tied together with Sang Zhi’s.”
Speaking to this point, Xu Han shook his head.
“Yet who could have imagined that after the Mountain Lord emerged from seclusion she would tie that most precious red string upon the wrist of a mortal who had just been carried back and whose mind was not even clear.”
These words were spoken bluntly, without the slightest regard for Shen Ci’s face.
Yet Shen Ci did not grow angry.
Over this past half month he had indeed sensed some faint hostility around him.
Yet he had merely regarded it as competition among fellow disciples and had not taken it to heart.
Only now that Xu Han had laid it bare did he understand the reason within.
So it turned out that Sang Zhi’s aptitude was such an attention-drawing existence on Shen Cang Mountain.
Only, within Shen Ci’s heart a doubt arose.
He looked at the Xu Han and Zhao Yuan before him.
When these two mentioned Sang Zhi there was only envy toward a genius and longing for the progress of cultivation.
Yet when they mentioned their own fated ones their attitudes were completely different.
“Both of you.” Shen Ci set down the teacup and asked, “I have heard that the fated ones of Shen Cang Mountain were established by the Mountain Lord in order to balance yin and yang and jointly advance toward the Great Dao.”
“Since they are fated, Miss Yun’er and Miss Cui’er must surely be of one heart and mind with the two of you and serve as mutual support.”
“Why is it that when I observe the two of you mention this matter there is only envy toward Sang Zhi and not the slightest cherishing of your own fated ones?”
At these words the hand with which Zhao Yuan had just picked up a second rice cake froze stiffly in midair.
Xu Han stared blankly at Shen Ci, as if he had heard some utterly incomprehensible words.
After a moment of silence Zhao Yuan gave a bitter laugh and tossed the rice cake back into the plate.
“Brother Shen, ah Brother Shen.” Zhao Yuan lowered his voice, his eyes full of helplessness. “You don’t truly believe this red string ties some sort of romantic affection between man and woman, do you?”
“Of one heart and mind?” Xu Han tugged at the corner of his mouth and coldly laughed once.
“On this Shen Cang Mountain, where is there any such thing as being of one heart and mind.”
He lowered his body and leaned forward a little.
“Shen Ci, do you truly think we like our own fated ones?”
“Cui’er only knows every day to accuse me of progressing too slowly in cultivation and looks down on me for not even being able to properly cast a single Small Cloud Rain Technique. We live in the same thatched hut and sometimes go ten days or half a month without speaking a single word.”
“Yun’er is the same, spending all day coldly mocking and ridiculing Zhao Yuan.”
“We cannot stand the sight of each other and even feel the other is a burden.”
Xu Han’s finger heavily tapped twice upon the table surface.
“But so what?”
“This is the rule set by the Mountain Lord.”
“Once the red string is tied, life and death share the same fate. If one side’s cultivation stagnates, the other side will also receive punishment from the Longevity Palace. Only when both people simultaneously cross the threshold of the Qi Refining stage and reach Foundation Establishment will they have the qualification to go to the White Jade Capital.”
Xu Han looked straight into Shen Ci’s eyes.
“So we envy you.”
“You need do nothing at all. As long as you absorb spiritual energy step by step, Sang Zhi will push you forward. Her aptitude is outstanding and she will never drag you down.”
“In other words, the Mountain Lord has allotted you the best cultivation partner.”
These words stirred considerable waves within Shen Ci’s sea of consciousness.
He sat in place, his surface calm.
Yet deep within his heart that confusion and incomprehension grew wildly like weeds.
So that was how it was.
The fated ones of Shen Cang Mountain possessed no magical effectiveness that forcibly bound emotions at all.
Since there was no guarantee of being of one heart and mind.
Then the cold indifference and mutual disdain between Xu Han and Cui’er, Zhao Yuan and Yun’er.
Perhaps… was the most authentic portrayal under this set of strict rules.
But if that was the case… then what of Sang Zhi?
Shen Ci recalled in his mind every detail of this past half month.
When he had still been a mortal who could not even stand, it had been Sang Zhi who carried water every day to wipe him, caring for his daily life without a single complaint.
It was she who, with curved brows and eyes, told him “we are fated ones and must stay together forever.”
It was also she who, upon learning that he had finally drawn qi into his body, showed joy that nearly overflowed.
If this red string could not cause affection to arise from nothing.
Then why was Sang Zhi so good to him?
Even if her aptitude was outstanding, even if she diligently urged him to cultivate so as not to be dragged down.
She could completely, like Cui’er treated Xu Han, achieve her purpose with cold reprimands and commands.
Why did she display that almost dependent attitude?
Moreover, in the depths of her eyes Shen Ci could often catch a trace of strange, slightly twisted possessiveness.
It was as if she truly regarded him as the one and only indispensable person in her life.
Truly strange.
Shen Ci raised the tea that had long gone cold and drained it in one gulp.
He could not gauge the young girl’s thoughts with ordinary reasoning.
After thinking back and forth he could only attribute everything to Sang Zhi’s fanatical longing for the “White Jade Capital.”
Under the teaching of Shen Cang Mountain, going to the White Jade Capital was the supreme destiny of every disciple.
Sang Zhi’s obsession with this goal perhaps already far exceeded that of ordinary