He pushed open the wooden door.
What greeted him was a blazing sun hanging high above the nine heavens, and the endless stretch of mountains in the distance.
Sunlight pierced through the clouds and fell upon the vegetation that covered the mountains and fields.
All things thrived, full of vigorous life.
Shen Ci stood beneath the eaves and remained still for a moment.
Then, using the breathing method of a mortal, he began to draw in and expel the spiritual energy of this realm.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The corpse miasma that had once filled the Nine Provinces, the miasma that countless great powers had scrambled after only to ultimately turn every cultivator into a breeding ground for extraterritorial monsters, had completely vanished.
What now drifted freely between heaven and earth were strands of pure spiritual energy.
Pure, vast, and without the slightest impurity.
This was the true source of creation that nourished all living beings, the original Heaven-reaching Great Dao of the ancient era.
Understanding settled in Shen Ci’s heart.
That final, life-ending sword he had delivered years ago by shattering the Formless Dao Bone and sacrificing his three souls and seven spirits had ultimately severed the connection between the extraterritorial divine corpse and the continent of the Nine Provinces.
Over the long passage of years, the heavenly laws of the Nine Provinces had completed their self-repair and once more given birth to vitality.
He only did not know how many years had truly passed since that world-shattering catastrophe.
While he was still deep in thought, an outer garment settled upon his shoulders.
Sang Zhi stepped lightly out of the house and reached out with both hands to smooth the collar for him.
“Your body has only just recovered. Don’t stand in the wind for too long.”
She was happy.
Now that her fated one could walk upon the ground, according to the rules of Shen Cang Mountain it meant they could finally walk side by side and begin to fulfill the path of their pairing.
“It’s fine.”
Shen Ci turned slightly and gathered his complicated thoughts.
“These past few days I’ve troubled you with my care. Now that I can walk, I simply wish to see more of this place.”
“Alright.”
Sang Zhi clasped her hands behind her back and walked ahead with light steps to lead the way.
“I’ll show you the paths.”
The two of them followed the green-stone path toward the mountainside.
Along the way the vegetation was lush.
Several brightly colored birds hopped among the branches, their cries clear and crisp. In the distance the mountain mist refracted seven-colored rosy light under the sun.
Waterfalls and flowing springs made the place resemble the immortal paradises recorded in ancient texts.
As he walked, Shen Ci observed the surrounding formations and the flow of the earth veins.
Although the spiritual energy here was pure, it still fell far short of the Qingming Dao Sect at its peak.
With his skill in seeking veins and observing qi, he could see that deep beneath Shen Cang Mountain lay a incomplete spiritual vein.
The vein had been forcibly severed and locked by profound means, preventing the spiritual energy within a hundred-li radius from leaking outward.
Whoever had arranged this great locking-vein formation was no ordinary person.
“Sang Zhi.”
Shen Ci paused and asked, “Do you know what the current era name is? Or rather, how many years have passed since that great catastrophe of heaven and earth?”
Sang Zhi stopped walking, turned her head, and looked blank.
“Era name?”
She gently shook her head.
“I’ve never paid attention to such things. The Mountain Lord never tells us about the outside world. Everyone only counts the days by the waxing and waning of the moon. On the first of next month you still have to accompany me to the divine hall to pay respects.”
“As for the great catastrophe of heaven and earth you mentioned… what is that?”
Shen Ci was not surprised.
To these youths living on Shen Cang Mountain, the rise and fall of dynasties in the outside world and the historical ruptures of the cultivation world lay beyond their knowledge.
“It’s fine. I was only asking casually.”
Shen Ci said lightly.
“If you want to know, next time we go to the divine hall to pay respects I’ll help you ask some of the older Reception Envoys.” Sang Zhi made the promise.
***
As they continued along the mountain path, the view gradually opened up.
A stretch of terraced fields appeared before their eyes.
Spiritual grain was planted in the fields. Clear stream water flowed along the ditches, irrigating every inch of the land.
At a single glance, all those working in the spiritual fields were youths under the age of eighteen.
They worked in pairs, each with a red string tied around their wrists, wearing identical cloth robes as they skillfully tended the crops.
“Once the children of Shen Cang Mountain grow older and can sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, they must focus entirely on cultivation.” Sang Zhi followed Shen Ci’s gaze.
“When their cultivation reaches a certain realm, they go to the Longevity Palace to receive deeper dao traditions and can no longer waste time on mundane labor.”
Shen Ci nodded slightly.
This rule was no different from the famous orthodox sects he had seen in his previous life. Outer-sect disciples handled miscellaneous duties while inner-sect disciples comprehended the Great Dao.
Only this forced dual-cultivation method of binding fated ones with red strings seemed to go against the true meaning of following the natural course of the Heavenly Dao.
“Sang Zhi.”
A steady voice interrupted Shen Ci’s thoughts.
On the field ridge not far away, a man and a woman stood side by side.
They were of similar age to Shen Ci. Unlike the other adults, they had not gone to the Longevity Palace but remained at the edge of these terraced fields.
“Qi Ming, Wan Qiu.”
Sang Zhi led Shen Ci forward and greeted them.
Qi Ming’s gaze fell upon Shen Ci and looked him up and down.
“Your fated one has finally awakened.”
He nodded.
“Since he can already walk on the ground, he should begin drawing qi into his body as soon as possible.”
Facing the other’s admonition, Shen Ci politely cupped his fists.
He noticed faint fluctuations of spiritual energy on Qi Ming and Wan Qiu.
Their cultivation should be around the fifth or sixth layer of Qi Refining.
“The two of you do not seem to be here for labor?” Shen Ci looked at them.
“Of course not.”
Wan Qiu took over the conversation.
“These spiritual fields are close to the Mist Forest at the rear mountain. Turbid beasts often appear in the forest and wreak havoc on the spiritual grain. We were ordered by the Reception Envoys of the Longevity Palace to stand guard here and defend against those beasts that have not yet opened their spiritual intelligence.”
As if to prove her words, Qi Ming suddenly raised his hand.
He pressed his index and middle fingers together and swiftly traced several simple trajectories in the empty air.
As his fingertips moved, a strand of pure heaven-and-earth spiritual energy was drawn forth.
“Fall.”
Qi Ming gave a soft shout.
The technique took form.
Above the originally clear spiritual fields, a mass of dark clouds rapidly condensed within a radius of several zhang.
A gentle spiritual rain fell from the clouds, evenly irrigating a patch of spiritual grain below.
The Small Cloud Rain Technique.
On the other side, Wan Qiu had not been idle either.
She walked to a pile of round logs by the field ridge, formed a seal with one hand, and a faint golden light rose at her fingertips.
Her palm turned into a blade and she swept it lightly.
The hard round logs were instantly split in two.
The cuts were as smooth as mirrors, without a single wood chip flying.
The Geng Metal Technique.
Shen Ci watched the scene quietly.
When these two cast their techniques, their meridians were unobstructed and the flow of spiritual energy completely followed the most ancient principles of the heavenly cycle.
The formation patterns traced by their fingertips had also evolved from the orthodox dao methods of the Nine Provinces.
Everything was on the proper path.
It seemed that on this isolated Shen Cang Mountain, someone was systematically teaching the orthodox methods of cultivation.
“Both of you.”
Shen Ci looked at Qi Ming and Wan Qiu and tested the waters.
“I heard Sang Zhi mention that we were all rescued from what is called hell. I wonder if the two of you still have any impression of that hell?”
At the words “hell,” the fingers with which Qi Ming had been casting the Small Cloud Rain Technique paused slightly.
The clouds dispersed accordingly.
Wan Qiu also stopped her chopping motion.
The two exchanged a glance, their expressions cold.
“Matters of the past are not important.”
Qi Ming turned his head and looked at Shen Ci.
“The Mountain Lord used great magical power to wash away the mire in our souls. Since we already stand beneath the radiance of Shen Cang Mountain, why look back at the abyss?”
“Indeed.”
Wan Qiu agreed.
“No matter what we experienced in hell before, now we have spiritual grain to fill our stomachs and dao methods to cultivate. As long as we listen to the Mountain Lord’s teachings, our future is the Heaven-reaching Great Dao.”
“Clinging to the past will only breed heart demons and hinder cultivation.”
Their words were consistent and their logic self-consistent.
They even faintly matched the dao-heart philosophy of cultivators who sever mortal ties and press forward without looking back.
This seemed to be… a superior form of dao-heart cleansing.
“I have received instruction.”
Shen Ci lowered his head slightly and did not dig deeper.
“The two of you should not wander about any longer either.”
Qi Ming dispersed the true essence at his fingertips and said to Sang Zhi, “You are at the eighth layer of Qi Refining. Now that he has awakened, the two of you must seize the time. Once he can also draw qi into his body, you must begin jointly cultivating the techniques bestowed by the divine hall. The time left for you may not be much.”
“I know.” Sang Zhi nodded lightly.
***
After leaving the spiritual fields, the two continued climbing along the mountain path.
“Sang Zhi.” Shen Ci sorted through the words just spoken.
“What did Qi Ming mean by ‘time is not much’? If we cultivate jointly, what level must we ultimately reach?”
Sang Zhi gazed into the distance, a trace of longing in her eyes.
“Foundation Establishment.”
She spoke each word clearly.
“It is an iron law set by the Mountain Lord. Once both sides of a fated pair have crossed the threshold of Qi Refining and successfully established their foundations, they can leave Shen Cang Mountain.”
“Leave?” Shen Ci keenly caught the word.
“Yes, to the east.”
Sang Zhi raised her hand and pointed toward the distant horizon.
“Cross the great mountains and seas of the Eastern Continent and go to the final destination of every disciple of Shen Cang Mountain.”
She paused.
“That place is called the White Jade Capital.”
White Jade Capital.
The instant he heard those three words, Shen Ci’s footsteps paused slightly.
In the long river of his memories, the three words “White Jade Capital” represented the deepest terror of the cultivation world.
Ten thousand years ago, the White Jade Capital had hung high in the exact center of the Nine Provinces.
It was the foremost sacred land under heaven, the guiding hub through which every Mahayana-stage cultivator who survived the heavenly tribulation ascended to the Heaven Beyond Heaven.
But Shen Ci had once witnessed the truth with his own eyes.
The so-called White Jade Capital was never any immortal city of jade towers.
It was a slaughterhouse.
Those immortals who believed they had attained the dao and ascended were drawn by the guiding light to the White Jade Capital.
Passing through the Heavenly Gate, they thought they had become true immortals.
They never knew that beyond the Heavenly Gate lay the sacs of the extraterritorial divine corpse filled with digestive fluid, an ending in which they themselves would become nourishment for the divine corpse.
Back then he had gone against the current.
That single sword had not only shattered the Heavenly Gate but had also completely leveled the entire White Jade Capital.
Why, in this unknown era, had the name White Jade Capital appeared once more?
Had residual remnants from that time rebuilt the altar?
Or was the White Jade Capital she spoke of not the place he was thinking of?
“White Jade Capital…”
Shen Ci softly recited the name and buried all his conjectures deep in his heart.
Every disciple of Shen Cang Mountain, once they established their foundation, had to go on a pilgrimage to the White Jade Capital.
What did this mean?
“Yes, the White Jade Capital.”
Sang Zhi did not notice the fluctuations in Shen Ci’s heart.
Longing shone in her eyes.
“I heard the senior brothers of the Longevity Palace say that there exists the true Great Dao of longevity, the supreme gift the Mountain Lord has prepared for us. As long as we go there, we can attain the Great Dao.”
“So you have to get better quickly and start cultivating soon.”
“I will.” Shen Ci answered lightly.
No matter what kind of dragon’s pool or tiger’s den the current White Jade Capital was, he had to go there in person.
Only by reaching that place might he unravel the mystery of why he had been reborn and learn the truth of this world.
***
While they talked, the two arrived before a cliff with an excellent view.
The sunlight was bright and the spiritual energy abundant.
Standing here, more than half of Shen Cang Mountain’s terrain was visible at a glance.
Sang Zhi extended a slender finger and pointed in turn toward several main peaks in the distance.
“That peak where white cranes circle is the divine hall. The Mountain Lord lives there. The red strings on our wrists were obtained from the formation arrays inside the divine hall.”
“The one on the left that is shrouded in clouds and mist all year round is the Longevity Palace. The adult brothers and sisters are all in seclusion there, bitterly cultivating and comprehending the Great Dao.”
Then her finger turned and pointed toward a deep canyon at the extreme northern edge of Shen Cang Mountain.
That canyon was completely out of place amid the bright scenery of Shen Cang Mountain.
Black mist rolled within the valley, and faint dark-red lightning threaded through the fog.
The entire region was tightly locked by a layer of pale-golden formation, with mysterious runes flowing across the formation pivots.
“That is the Wuwang Abyss.”
Sang Zhi’s voice grew a little lower.
“It is a forbidden land of Shen Cang Mountain. The Mountain Lord once set an iron law that no one may approach the Wuwang Abyss even half a step.”
Shen Ci stared at the place.
Black mist rolled; nothing could be seen clearly.
Besides that, something else drew Shen Ci’s attention.
At the end of the mountains surrounding Shen Cang Mountain, a mass of gray-white fog rolled. That gray fog connected heaven and earth, completely enclosing Shen Cang Mountain in its center.
“What is that?”
Shen Ci pointed at the fog that encircled heaven and earth in the distance.
Sang Zhi followed the direction of his finger. The smile on her face gradually faded.
“That is… hell.”
She spoke softly.
“The Mountain Lord said the outside world was long ago destroyed by catastrophe. Inside that gray fog are monsters that eat people.”
She turned her head and looked at Shen Ci.
“Haven’t you always wanted to know what hell looks like?”
Sang Zhi stretched out her hand and took hold of Shen Ci’s sleeve.
“Come. I’ll take you to see it.”
***
Without waiting for Shen Ci to refuse, Sang Zhi led him down a quiet mountain path all the way toward the foot of the mountain.
Half an hour later.
The two arrived at an edge area of Shen Cang Mountain.
Only a few dozen zhang ahead of them was the gray fog that seemed almost solid.
“Halt, those who come.”
A voice came from behind a giant boulder ahead.
A young cultivator wearing a deacon’s daoist robe stepped out from the shadows. He was a Qi-Refining cultivator responsible for patrolling the boundary.
“So it is Junior Sister Sang Zhi.”
The young cultivator recognized the newcomers and his brows furrowed slightly.
“This place is already the edge of the formation. You may not go any farther. Recently the white fog has been unusually restless. Turbid beasts may appear at any time.”
“Thank you for the reminder, Senior Brother Lin. We only came to look.”
Sang Zhi replied politely.
Just as the few of them were conversing.
The white fog ahead suddenly began to roll.
In the blink of an eye, a monster the size of an adult fierce tiger, its entire body covered in black bone spikes, lunged out from the white fog.
Gray turbid qi coiled around its body. When its four feet landed, the gray-black rocks around it were instantly crushed.
It charged straight toward the cultivator surnamed Lin.
“A turbid beast!”
The cultivator surnamed Lin’s expression changed drastically.
His reaction was quick.
He drew the long sword at his waist with a reverse grip, poured his own spiritual energy into the blade, and transformed it into a sharp sword radiance that slashed forward.
The sword radiance struck the monster’s body.
Clang.
Sparks flew in all directions.
The long sword was actually snapped by the monster’s bone spikes.
The monster endured the sword strike without slowing, opened its bloody maw, and lunged straight for the throat of the cultivator surnamed Lin.
The cultivator surnamed Lin had no time to cast a second technique.
He could only watch helplessly as those fangs grew larger and larger before his eyes.
At the critical moment.
Sang Zhi moved.
The young girl vanished from Shen Ci’s side like a ghost.
In the next instant she appeared at the side-rear of the turbid beast.
She stretched out the slender right hand that still wore the red string and pressed her fingers together like a blade.
Sss…
Her fingertips instantly cut into the turbid beast’s neck.
In the next moment spiritual energy erupted.
The turbid beast stiffened violently.
Its ferocious head was wrenched off by a tremendous force.
Dark-black blood sprayed out like a fountain.
Sang Zhi lightly retreated a step and avoided every drop of blood.
The monster crashed heavily to the ground, twitched twice, and completely lost its life.
The cultivator surnamed Lin collapsed into a sitting position on the ground, gripping the broken sword and staring at the young girl before him in residual shock, his face full of disbelief.
Sang Zhi unhurriedly took out a piece of cloth and gently wiped the blood from her fingertips.
Shen Ci watched the scene quietly.
The cultivation Sang Zhi had just displayed was indeed at the eighth layer of Qi Refining without a doubt.
Yet the timing of her strike, the angle, and that indifferent attitude that treated life and death as nothing… were beyond what ordinary disciples could match.
“So this is what they call a turbid beast?”
Shen Ci stepped forward and looked at the monster’s corpse.
Only then did he understand that the hell spoken of by the disciples of Shen Cang Mountain was precisely this gray fog that isolated heaven and earth.
And that within hell were monsters that ate people.
He instinctively wanted to squat down and carefully examine the bone structure and meridian pathways of the monster.
Yet the moment he was about to touch the corpse.
Sang Zhi pulled him back with one tug.
“Don’t touch it.”
She gently shook her head.
“Things from hell are very dirty. They will pollute you.”
With that she took a yellowed talisman from her bosom and flicked it with her fingers.
The talisman landed on the turbid beast’s corpse and transformed into a mass of brilliant golden flames.
Pure Yang fire burned fiercely.
In the blink of an eye it burned the corpse and the