Jiang Tao very quickly turned the conversation to the elixir of youth case, “Other than the King of Baoshu, which vassal monster king has come to Lingxu City and drawn so much attention as the King of Chiyan has?”

Gao Jilin corrected him, “It’s the Crown Prince of Chiyan who came, not the ruler himself.”

“Well, they’re father and son anyway. The crown prince came on the ruler’s behalf.” Jiang Tao smoothed his robe. “And they insist that the Lord Emperor of Beijia must give them an explanation.”

“I also heard he has a subordinate named He, and that fellow has stolen a lot of the limelight too.” His tone was not without envy. “People are saying this man’s cultivation is extremely high, and that even Fan Sheng, the deputy commander of the Tongxin Guard, lost to him!”

He Lingchuan blinked. “Oh? He’s that famous?”

“Very.” Jiang Tao sighed. “Any discussion of the elixir of youth case always mentions him. Hah, and he even shares your surname!”

He Lingchuan’s smile did not change. “Perhaps five hundred years ago, we were one family.”

Old Ge rolled his eyes again from the front.

But He Lingchuan suddenly realized something: his understanding of himself had been skewed.

What kind of place was Lingxu City? Even if one were a genius in some distant region, once one arrived in this imperial capital of six hundred years, one was like a drop of water falling into the sea—silent, unnoticed, without even a ripple.

To become known in Lingxu City at all meant one was already a person of some consequence.

No wonder Li Qingge wanted to draw him in. No wonder Fang Canran, the chief steward of Dun Garden, had sent him an invitation. No wonder the south city government office had been so scrupulously respectful to him the whole time.

He had thought they were merely giving face to the Crown Prince of Chiyan.

But in truth, strength naturally demanded a matching standing.

Other people’s respect was precisely what he was entitled to.

It was only because he had all along been dealing with Lingxu City’s upper-tier powers—people like Fushan Yue, the Minister of Finance, and the Zhongsun Family—and had all along been measuring himself against figures on the level of Fan Sheng and Bai Ziqi, that he had failed to notice how many lengths ahead of ordinary people he already was.

His mindset needed adjusting.

If he kept being overly cautious at every turn, always seeking safety, always trying to preserve every angle without a leak, then how did that fit the “Wave Cleaving” heart method that he cultivated?

When the time came to face difficulty head-on, he had to face it head-on.

When the time came to act boldly and in great sweeps, he absolutely could not shrink back or tie his own hands.

Gao Jilin said, “And then there was the explosion at the post station where they were staying. It’s the first time in all these years I’ve ever heard of such a thing.”

Jiang Tao grinned. “Who knows? Maybe the Chiyan people did it to themselves.”

Old Ge turned and looked at He Lingchuan, then at Jiang Tao, and finally could not help but say, “Got any evidence for that?”

Jiang Tao chuckled. “If I did, I wouldn’t have said ‘maybe.’”

“Then why would they bomb themselves for fun?”

“To strike first, maybe?” Jiang Tao said as if it were obvious. “Everyone else wants to move against them, so if they make the first move themselves, how is anyone else supposed to follow up?”

Old Ge stole another glance at He Lingchuan, only to find him wearing an utterly indifferent face, as though the man being discussed had nothing to do with him.

And He Lingchuan really was indifferent. If Jiang Tao could think that way, then others could as well. Lingxu City had never lacked clever people.

However, that was not the important part.

The important part was that, so long as no one could seize actual proof, they absolutely could not publicly accuse the Chiyan party of such a thing. The government office still had to obediently go after the “culprit,” and the Lord Emperor still had to find ways to soothe Fushan Yue.

He Lingchuan closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

That motion, however, was misunderstood by Gao Jilin, who immediately said to Jiang Tao, “You’ve talked the entire way. Let your mouth rest for a while. Let Mr. Ge explain things to us instead.”

The other tourists had long since had enough and immediately chimed in.

They had paid for scenery and commentary, not for Jiang Tao’s endless prattle.

At last, it was his turn. Old Ge stood, took a sip of water, and said, “Everyone, look to the left. That small peak under the clouds is called Fairy Peak. According to legend, in the Ancient Era, an immortal fairy bathed there, only to be attacked by a monster peeping on her...”

He Lingchuan could not help but cut in, “Old Ge, your explanation is getting a bit indecent.”

“What indecent?” Old Ge said lazily. “Then I’ll change it. The immortal fairy was washing her feet there.”

Jiang Tao shook his head repeatedly. “Crude, far too crude! The whole atmosphere’s gone. It’s better to just keep the part about bathing!”

* * *

By the time Old Ge finished his second cup of water to wet his throat, the elk carriage had finally reached the destination of this trip: Mount Xu.

This was the tallest mountain range near Lingxu City. The moment one left the northern gate of the city, one could see its strange peaks rising into the sky, white clouds drifting around the summit.

Mount Xu was once the dwelling place of immortals.

Immortals, of course, liked to live atop lofty peaks and look down upon the mundane world.

The terrain around Lingxu City, however, was peculiar. Mount Xu’s elevation was nowhere near that of Mount Fengmo on the Gale Tundra. That mountain had mighty ranges, bone-cutting winds, and snow that never melted all year round.

Only the highest summit of Mount Xu kept a white crown through all four seasons. The other peaks were only four to five hundred meters high, wearing fresh colors throughout the year.

While the terrain itself was not imposing, it offered green mountains, flowing streams, birdsong, and secluded ravines. All the usual hallmarks of an immortal retreat were present.

Because it lay comparatively low, the scenic sites here had a delicate, elegant charm. The roads through the scenic area had all been widened, and the dangerous stretches had been outfitted with plankways and iron chains. There was nothing especially difficult about climbing here.

He Lingchuan pointed up the mountain road. “This wasn’t Mount Xu’s original mountain path, was it?”

“Of course not.” Old Ge explained. “Back in the days of the Grand Return Sect, the path was slippery, steep, and narrow. People fell off it all the time. It was extremely unsafe. However, immortals have their own ways of flying and leaping around. Why would they bother putting effort into building proper roads?”

He Lingchuan thought to himself, But the sect must still have needed ordinary people to come up the mountain and serve it.

“And in the Middle Era?” By then, immortals had gradually lost the ability to fly so easily.

“After the Middle Era began, the Grand Return Sect also found it inconvenient to keep climbing up and down, so they moved down to live on the flatlands. That settlement eventually became what is now Lingxu City.” Old Ge said, “That place was originally the Grand Return Sect’s spirit farmland.”

Gao Jilin asked, “I’d heard that spirit farmland is always high in the mountains, where medicinal plants can absorb more spirit qi.”

For example, the Ethereal Sect had simply laid out its spirit fields high on the towering Mount Fengmo.

“That’s true, but Mount Xu had the Grand Spirit-Gathering Array that could continuously draw in the surrounding spirit qi for its own use, so it didn’t need to rely on elevation. Besides, wasn’t growing medicinal plants on level ground much easier for transport?”

He Lingchuan’s heart stirred. “So the Grand Spirit-Gathering Array already existed during the Grand Return Sect era?”

The last time he had heard that term had been from Xiang Yan, the retired old official of Chiyan.

“Of course it did. The methods of the ancient immortal sects are beyond what people today can imagine.”

Their group followed the normal sightseeing route, first climbing up from Yaoguang Peak[1], touring as they went, sometimes crossing suspension bridges, sometimes taking secluded side paths, gradually making their way toward the other peaks.

All along the route, tourists came in unending streams. Every stone bench had someone sitting on it, resting. Before long, they were walking right into the heart of the white clouds.

A mountain need not be high; if immortals dwell there, it gains its fame. Mount Xu truly deserved to be Lingxu City’s most popular tourist attraction.

The Grand Return Sect’s mountain gate was enormously imposing, carved entirely from white jade. It was said that in former days, when mortals came to the mountain to worship the immortals, they would start bowing from this point, kowtowing with every step all the way to the Violet-Gold Hall.

He Lingchuan lifted his head and looked toward the summit. The mountain was not especially high, but if one had to knock one’s head against the ground the whole way up, one would likely split one’s skull before reaching the top.

Beside the mountain gate stood a great black stele detailing the sect’s past and present.

But the inscription was not in the language of the ancient immortals. It had been erected later by Beijia and served as a guide for visiting tourists.

At a glance, He Lingchuan spotted a map of Mount Xu on it, showing the locations of the peaks, scenic sites, and several touring routes.

How considerate.

But after looking for a moment, he let out a small sound of surprise.

“These main peaks weren’t the Grand Return Sect’s original main peaks, were they?”

“They weren’t.” Old Ge answered. “During the reign of the Late Emperor, he personally oversaw the rebuilding of Mount Xu and re-designated the nine principal peaks.”

“Tianji[2] Peak, Tianxuan[3] Peak... and also Dongming Peak, Yinyuan Peak!” Jiang Tao exclaimed. “Are they named after the Nine Stars of the Big Dipper?”

“Exactly.” Old Ge nodded. “They correspond to the nine stars in the sky, and even their positions match exactly.”

The stars of the Big Dipper? He Lingchuan was still studying the map. It was just as Xiang Yan had said, the mountain peaks on the earth corresponded to the stars in the heavens.

Could that really be mere coincidence? That the arrangement and placement of the peaks on the ground happened to line up perfectly with the Big Dipper in the sky?

Carrying that question in his mind, He Lingchuan kept reading the inscription.

Because he already had certain suspicions about Mount Xu, he was not willing to overlook a single clue.

The great stele recorded that 632 years ago, the Grand Return Sect had still been the northern monster state’s strongest rival.

At that time, the northern monster state had already absorbed and merged five states and commanded seven monster kings, making it the new overlord of the land.

But the Grand Return Sect had not regarded it as a serious threat. It assumed the northern monster state would not dare offend it and would first move against the other smaller states.

Yet the northern monster state had no interest in pecking eggs while sparing rocks. It chose to strike the hard target first.

The Grand Return Sect remained numb and careless until the northern monster state silently brought its armies right beneath the mountain gate.

Only then did it awaken to the danger.

But by then, it was too late.

That battle lasted ten days and ten nights, blotting out heaven and earth.

When the eleventh dawn arrived, the northern monster state finally claimed ultimate victory.

From that day onward, Mount Xu changed masters, and Beijia gained its capital.

The inscription itself was very brief and simple, but from between its lines, He Lingchuan could see slaughter running wild.

Given the temperament of the northern monster state, that surprise assault on the Grand Return Sect must have piled up mountains of corpses and rivers of blood. Only by severing the immortal sect’s very foundation could it have reduced such a proud, thousand-year-old sect to collapse overnight, never again recovering its strength.

The Grand Return Sect 632 years ago, even without an immortal personally in command, was far beyond what a decayed Daoist sect like the Ethereal Sect could compare to.

And at that time, the northern monster state had not yet reached the height of its power. Its state power and its generals must have been inferior to those of later ages. That was why the Grand Return Sect had been so convinced it would never dare launch a direct assault.

Unfortunately, they had misjudged the northern monster state.

He Lingchuan stretched out a hand and pressed it against the stele. The stone’s icy chill seeped into his palm.

“This stele doesn’t say how many died in that world-shaking battle?”

“No idea.” Old Ge shook his head. “War always kills people, doesn’t it?”

He Lingchuan said seriously, “This was a war of extermination.”

If one wanted to completely shatter a great sect in only a few days so that it could never again mount any meaningful resistance, and if one wanted to occupy its lands without having to fear its later revenge, what was the best method?

Kill all the sect’s disciples.

Dig out its entire transmission, root and branch.

If the people were gone, what hope could there be of revival?

Judging by the methods the northern monster state later used against the State of Yuān and against Panlong City, that outcome seemed all too likely.

He Lingchuan gazed up at the black stele, and for a moment it seemed as though flashing blades, savage laughter, and desperate screams flickered before his eyes, only to be lightly buried in the deepest layers of history.

Gao Jilin said softly, “I once read one more passage in a history book about the Battle of Mount Xu.”

“What did it say?”

“It was terrible.”

1. Yaoguang here is Alkaid or Eta Ursae Majoris in the Big Dipper. ☜

2. Phecda or Gamma Ursae Majoris. ☜

3. Merak or Beta Ursae Majoris. ☜