Starting Cultivation During a Trip-Chapter 242 - 146: Master of the School of Non-action! The Crane-descending Phenomenon of the Profound Dao

Chapter 242: Chapter 146: Master of the School of Non-action! The Crane-descending Phenomenon of the Profound Dao

"Wuwei Sect Sect Leader... candidate!?" Ma Buting’s brow twitched, a look of suspicion appearing on his face.

The Wuwei Sect is shrouded in mystery; the most enigmatic of all, naturally, is its Sect Leader.

Not to mention the distant past—even in the last hundred years, no one has heard the Sect Leader’s name. There was once a rumor that the [Three Corpses Daoist] was the Sect Leader of the Wuwei Sect; after him, the position has remained vacant and undecided.

"It’s just speculation, but I heard that the selection of the Wuwei Sect Leader is like raising deterministic gu, with an intrinsic mechanism of its own..."

"Another theory holds that the Wuwei Sect Leader is one of destiny, chosen by fate and born of nature... which is why the position isn’t continuously held by anyone."

He Ningyan’s explanation cast a further shroud of mystery over the existence of the Wuwei Sect Leader.

"Chosen by fate, born of nature!?"

Ma Buting murmured softly, chewing over the phrase.

"In any case, remember: if you ever meet this person in the future, retreat as far as you can, or your life will be in danger." He Ningyan instructed solemnly.

"Zhao Jie Xuan!"

"Understood."

Ma Buting nodded, firmly engraving the name [Zhao Jie Xuan] in his heart.

Bong... Bong... Bong...

The sound of a bell echoed; incense and candles were lit—the auspicious moment had arrived.

Ma Buting took a deep breath, reverently lifting the [Agarwood] from the table, stepping into the courtyard, walking to the altar.

"Junior brother, today is your great day."

He Ningyan had absolute confidence in this junior brother of hers.

Ma Buting drew a deep breath, raised the [Agarwood], and respectfully set it into the furnace; with a spark from his Primordial Spirit, three parts of True Yang kindled the fire, as he recited the names of the Three Sovereigns, holding awe for the esteemed Immortal Gods in his heart.

"A single stick of true incense reaches the heavens; all demons and monsters retreat in hiding. Those graced in Dao commune with Xuanmiao; returning to life, beseeching the Jade Emperor!"

Ma Buting mumbled softly, forming seals with his hands—his Primordial Spirit performed its Emergence, as if an initiator, drawing forth True Yang like flames, and instantly igniting the [Agarwood] within the censer.

Instantly, flags fluttered with the wind; a wisp of amaranthine-purple incense smoke rose magnificently, like the drifting clouds supporting Ma Buting’s Primordial Spirit, soaring straight into the heavens.

Buzz—

In a flash, Ma Buting felt his Primordial Spirit return to the state of a fetus in the womb. Though detached from his corporeal body, as he returned to the firmament, there was instead a greater sense of belonging; even his Primordial Spirit’s breathing became infantile.

This was that wondrous state described in the Tao Te Ching: "Carrying essence and embracing unity, channeling Qi in gentle focus—can you be as an infant?"

"This is only the beginning."

In the courtyard, He Ningyan’s eyes grew sharp as a thread, watching Ma Buting’s Primordial Spirit borne up on the incense flame.

At this moment, his Primordial Spirit was like a handful of water—ever-changing, reshaping anew.

This was the baptism of the Primordial Spirit, the ultimate act of sublimation; just like a woman’s ten-month bearing of a child—any misstep and all would be forfeit.

Buzz—

Gradually, Ma Buting’s Primordial Spirit seemed to shed conscious thought, leaving only instinct. At his ear, Sutra chanting resounded, echoing beyond the firmament. Countless figures shimmered before his eyes—descending from the clouds, observing the transformation of his Primordial Spirit.

"Seems there are no issues now."

He Ningyan’s expression slightly eased—atop Yujing City, a white cloud grew, veiling hidden rays of sunlight within.

This was the omen of [Returning to Life]—the rays would cleanse the Primordial Spirit, and once it completed its transformation, he’d advance into the [High Skill] rank.

"Hmm!?"

At that instant, He Ningyan’s delicate brows knit ever so slightly, a strange gleam flashing in her beautiful eyes as she watched—over Yujing City, another white cloud materialized, sunlight glowing within.

"There’s actually someone else in Yujing City attempting a breakthrough into [High Skill]!?"

He Ningyan’s gaze sharpened into a beam, staring dead-on at the suddenly manifest white cloud.

Meanwhile, at Taoyuan Square, atop the rooftop terrace—

Zhang Fan sat cross-legged in meditation, his Primordial Spirit emerging long since, and the Agarwood sent from Zhenwu Mountain already burning.

Except, his situation was somewhat unusual.

"What’s happening? How can this be?" 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Bai Buran’s expression was peculiar, eyes fixed on Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit in the sky.

For most cultivators, when Agarwood is ignited, they ride the rising incense smoke skyward, journeying to the heavens and inviting forth the spirits.

But right now, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit was practically devouring the incense fire of the Agarwood in huge gulps.

Such a bizarre sight—even with all his experience, Bai Buran had never seen its like.

"What’s going on with his Primordial Spirit?" Bai Buran’s brows knotted tight, forming the character for ’river’.

His gaze shifted just then, naturally noting another patch of white cloud and rays—paying a little mind, he realized it originated from Jiangnan Province’s Daoist Alliance.

Evidently, someone at the Daoist Alliance was also attempting a [High Skill] breakthrough.

Cry—Cry—Cry—

In that moment, a flurry of high-pitched crane calls echoed from within the Daoist Alliance’s white cloud; faintly, within the rays, an image of a white crane soared forth to circle the sky.

"Jiang He Phenomenon!?" Bai Buran’s expression quivered with interest.

If agarwood draws Immortal Cranes, only High Skills can yield such incense.

Since ancient times, the Immortal Crane has represented more than just longevity—it is the envoy between Immortal Realm and Mortal World, ethereal and enigmatic, linking immortals and mortals alike.

The Immortal Crane here was not a real one, but an Outer Scenery phenomenon.

Legend says only those with true immortal fate and peerless talent can, when advancing to the [High Skill] rank, summon the Jiang He sign.

"Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance does birth talent, indeed." Bai Buran murmured wistfully.

Cry—Cry—Cry—

In the sky, the cranes’ calls grew brighter, audible only to Primordial Spirits; yet another white crane took flight from the clouds, circling above.

"Good—my junior brother truly is extraordinary, to coax forth twin cranes’ calls."

He Ningyan’s eyes shone with delight—to summon the Jiang He omen is already exceptional; the more cranes, the greater the accomplishment. Twin cranes in chorus—one in ten thousand could achieve this.

In contrast, the other white cloud’s rays waned, even to the point of dispersal—whether that person could ascend to High Skill remained uncertain, let alone summon the Jiang He mark.

"Is it over just like that?"

Bai Buran stared blankly as the Agarwood burned to nothing—the final wisp of incense flame completely devoured by Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit.

He was stunned; looking up, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit sat amidst the firmament, and above his head, the white cloud was about to dissipate.

"Agarwood is not true, incense scattering scattered. True fate returns, incomparably intense."

Just then, a cryptic voice echoed within the Inner Scenery of Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit, accompanied by the clash of chains.

"This bit of incense is still not enough!"

Rumble—

No sooner had the words fallen than the sky rumbled—suddenly, the white cloud above Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit shuddered violently; a piercing, thunderous cry erupted, shaking the Mortal World as if thunder rolled.

"That is—"

The next moment, a colossal talon emerged from the heart of the white cloud, accompanied by drifting feathers—

"Black feathers!?" Bai Buran’s eyes quaked.

"Wha—what is that thing?"

He Ningyan’s eyes flew wide, her visage trembling, disbelief plain as the dawn.

"A black Immortal Crane!?"

Buzz—

That terrifying talon burst from the white cloud’s depths, clutching the two white cranes circling the heavens tightly beneath its claws!!