Boom!
Zhang Yan felt as if the back of his head had been lightly tapped by a jade hammer. A clear and crisp ringing sound echoed in his ears. His vision first turned milky white, then was suddenly illuminated with brilliant brightness. Within his mouth, an Immortal Spring naturally arose, flowing steadily down his throat, accompanied by a surge of warmth that sank and settled in the depths of his navel, finally coming to rest in peaceful stillness.
His brush suddenly froze mid-stroke. When he lifted his head, he realized that the ground was littered with sheets of paper covered in his writing.
A beam of white light streamed through a crevice in the cave wall ahead—the passage of night had, unbeknownst to him, already come and gone.
Not only did he not feel fatigued at this moment, but he was overflowing with vitality, his five senses sharpened, and his heart brimming with tranquility.
The very air surrounding him seemed transformed—an intangible aura of detachment from the mundane faintly emanated from his being.
Had he been able to see his reflection, Zhang Yan would have noticed his face glowing with a crystal-like jade sheen, shimmering and flowing without cease. His eyes, now brighter than the stars, signified that from this day forward, he had stepped into the stage of Yuan Condensation and Manifesting Intent within the Middle Stage of Foundation Establishment—just a single step away from reaching the final stage, Yuan Cheng Ruzhen.
With a flick of the brush in his hand, Zhang Yan strode forward a few paces, removed the Sealing Stone, pulled open the door, and stepped outside.
After taking two steps, he paused in astonishment, glancing down at his hands. The Sealing Stone weighed over three hundred jin—a task that previously required considerable effort on his part to lift—but he had just moved it lightly with one hand as if it were weightless.
A moment of realization struck him. He recalled the rumors often spoken of: that once a cultivator completed Foundation Establishment, "a strength of a thousand jin would arise within their arms, their eyes able to pierce dense smoke and fog, their ears capable of discerning even the sound of insects crawling and birds flapping." Could these tales be true?
Clenching his fists tightly, Zhang Yan inhaled deeply, silently reminding himself that this was merely the first step on the path of seeking the Great Dao. He could not afford to grow complacent or overconfident, as countless trials and perils still lay ahead. Joy at this moment would be far too premature.
Suddenly, the clear and melodic cry of an immortal crane pierced the air, lingering endlessly in his ears.
Zhang Yan turned to look. At this moment, the sun had just begun to rise, dispersing the misty clouds. The mountain forests were bathed in golden radiance, and the meandering river below the cliff resembled a ribbon of white silk adorned with jade. Occasionally, one or two white-feathered, red-crested immortal cranes glided past the footpath below.
Standing at the edge of the cliff with vigor and vitality, Zhang Yan allowed the cool morning breeze to brush against him. Though he wore only a simple Daoist robe, he felt no chill, allowing his garments to flutter freely in the wind.
After three years of devoted practice with the entry-level mental method, a superior technique was now within his grasp. Overnight, he had condensed his qi and built his foundation—a perfect example of accumulating strength over time and achieving success when the moment was right.
He could not help but ponder: if he had simply continued practicing every day in the rocky cave, passively waiting for the Heavenly Dao's favor and relying solely on chance, would he have achieved this enlightenment today?
The answer was undoubtedly no.
The path of cultivation resembled a single-plank bridge amidst an army of thousands. Retreat was not an option, with only forward progress permitted. No matter the dangers or obstacles, one must regard them as level ground and press onward.
In the past, the Book of Changes proclaimed, "All day exerting oneself to the utmost, repeating the Dao endlessly." Was this not a lesson for noble individuals to strive tirelessly, whether in favorable or adverse circumstances, persisting over and over again to embody the assertive spirit of the Right Path?
Indeed, his resolve to advance boldly and diligently was an action aligned with the Heavenly Dao.
In one sentence: greatness comes to those who help themselves!
With this thought, a new burst of insight welled up within Zhang Yan.
At that moment, his expression shifted, and he abruptly turned his head to look toward the other end of the footpath.
Thanks to his heightened senses, he could already hear someone walking rapidly in his direction from afar.
Shortly after, the figure of a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl came into view. Her hair was tied into a Daoist bun, and she was dressed in narrow-sleeved garments resembling men's attire. A sword hung at her waist, giving her an air of spirited boldness, though her slightly pointed chin imparted an impression of unapproachability.
She marched directly up to Zhang Yan, gaze filled with hostility, and asked, "Are you Zhang Yan?"
Zhang Yan, who had never before met this young woman, responded, "Indeed, I am. And you, miss, who might you be?"
"I am Zhao Ying." Her expression cold, the girl waved her hand and ordered, "Gather your belongings and follow me down the mountain immediately. If you delay, unforeseen trouble will arise."
Zhang Yan found the situation absurdly perplexing and asked, "What does Miss Zhao mean by this?"
"You little…" Zhao Ying, enraged by his words, nearly cursed him outright. However, upon observing Zhang Yan's dignified bearing and the extraordinary energy in his demeanor, the word "thief" became stuck in her throat. She glared fiercely at him instead and exclaimed, "You dare ask? You're the one who's brought misery to my brother!"
Inwardly, she cursed this scoundrel for possessing such a fine appearance—it was no wonder her brother had been deceived by him!
Zhang Yan was taken aback upon hearing this, studying the girl's features and noticing a faint resemblance to Zhao Yuan. He quickly pieced things together and asked, "Has something happened to Brother Zhao?"
Zhao Ying snorted disdainfully, her face full of resentment.
Zhang Yan sighed inwardly—he had long recognized Zhao Yuan as someone who wore their emotions on their sleeve and lacked stability in their thoughts. He had advised Zhao Yuan to cultivate carefully and with caution, yet trouble had still arisen.
As it turned out, Zhao Yuan had initially heeded Zhang Yan's advice last night, but holding the Daoist Books in his hand, how could he resist the temptation? After repeatedly observing the text, he had unknowingly begun to cultivate, only to trigger complications due to improper practice of its key techniques. He vomited several mouthfuls of blood before losing consciousness.
Coincidentally, Zhao Yuan's younger sister, Zhao Ying—who had been cultivating at Taian Temple—was visiting Cangwu Mountain when she heard word of the incident. Furious, she assumed Zhang Yan must be a swindler and had gone to question Min Lou Building as to why they had harmed her brother.
Although Zhang Yan's actions were only known to a few close acquaintances, Min Lou, forced to defend his reputation, stepped forward to vouch for Zhang Yan.
This set off a chain of events. With disciples from the Three Daoist Temples gathering on Cangwu Mountain, Hu Shengyu, an entry-level disciple of De Xiu Temple, also joined the fray after learning that the manager Bian Qiao had sold the "Yongchuan Water Walking Book."
When Bian Qiao heard about the matter, his first assumption was of fraudulent activity, and he dismissed it as inconsequential. However, once Min Lou intervened, he realized the situation was far more serious—Min Lou was already highly regarded by the Master and was destined to become an entry-level disciple of De Xiu Temple. Surely, he wouldn't fabricate claims.
Someone was apparently secretly decoding the Erosion Text?
Bian Qiao was both shocked and enraged. Though there was an unwritten agreement not to infringe upon each other's domains, Zhang Yan's assistance in interpreting the text for Min Lou and Zhao Yuan seemed to threaten his own lucrative dealings.
Since Zhang Yan was a disciple of Shanyuan Temple, Bian Qiao could not openly make a move against him. After some thought, Zhao Yuan's predicament presented the perfect pretext, and he paid a hypocritical visit to Zhao Yuan, expressing false concern while pledging to seek justice for De Xiu Temple.
Zhao Yuan, having regained consciousness, was horrified upon learning of this chain of events. He summoned Zhao Ying and reprimanded her harshly, ordering her to immediately apologize to Zhang Yan and arrange for him to leave the mountain to avoid further complications.
Zhao Ying, however, refused to apologize. Still holding onto the belief that Zhang Yan was a fraud, she obeyed Zhao Yuan's instructions begrudgingly and decided that forcing him to leave the mountain would suffice.
Though Zhao Ying spoke reluctantly, Zhang Yan gleaned the essence of the situation through her summary.
The unfolding events confirmed his suspicion that certain individuals' attention had been drawn to him sooner than expected. Zhao Yuan's swift response and refusal to shy away from danger demonstrated his worth as a valuable ally.
Zhang Yan maintained his composed expression and said, "Return to Brother Zhao and tell him that I understand the matter. I appreciate his timely notice. Please reassure him that there's no need for concern—I have made my own arrangements."
Zhao Ying, inwardly reluctant to help Zhang Yan, was delighted that he refused to leave the mountain. This spared her from disobeying her brother's instructions while secretly thinking to herself, "Ignorant scoundrel! You have no idea the power of Bian Qiao. Just wait—when that brute arrives, you'll see how things play out for you!"
...
...