P.S.: The update was just under ten thousand words, and the number of alliance leaders has surpassed one hundred. Thank you all for your support. Bows in gratitude!
Luo Yuangong accepted the Sect Master Token with both hands, showing the respect that was due. As he returned to his place, he looked at Tang Susu and Su Po and could not help sighing.
There was nothing they could do. At this moment, Tang Mu feared no pressure whatsoever. Even if everyone in the sect joined forces to oppose him, it would be useless. Designating the Sect Master's successor was a power granted to the Sect Master by the sect rules. Tang Mu insisted on playing things this way before his death—who could possibly beat him at his own game?
"Everyone, remember this well. After I die, keep my death secret and do not announce it. Otherwise, it will easily bring disaster upon Shangqing Sect!" Tang Mu publicly issued another final decree.
Everyone exchanged bewildered looks, not understanding what he meant. Several Elders exchanged glances, all of them worried, as if they had sensed something.
A short while later, the other Inner Sect Disciples dispersed. Only the three Elders, Tang Yi, and Wei Duo remained in the hall.
Only then did Elder Luo Yuangong ask in a low voice, "Sect Master, you and Dongguo Haoran led your disciples away one after another. Now you have returned in this condition, covered in injuries. What exactly happened? Who hurt you?"
Tang Mu forced himself to remain upright and said calmly, "I am exhausted. If you have any questions, ask Junior Brother after he takes over as Sect Master."
Tang Susu's face was cold. "There have been rumors outside lately that the Business Mirror has reappeared in the world. Could it be that the Sect Master and Dongguo Haoran ended up like this because they were fighting someone over the Business Mirror?"
At the mention of the Business Mirror, everyone present changed expression and fixed their eyes on Tang Mu, waiting for his reaction.
The origins of the Business Mirror were simply too extraordinary. Although the world was now divided among the Seven Great Powers, ultimately, everything had risen from the foundation of Wu Kingdom. Shang Song, once the greatest cultivator in the world, could have lived his life freely. Yet, for some unknown reason, he suddenly took an interest in worldly affairs, exhausted himself unifying the world, founded Wu Kingdom, and became its emperor. He kept the cultivators of the world under control, claiming it was to prevent cultivators from competing with mortals for profit. Later, in his pursuit of immortality, Shang Song went against his original intentions and tore a hole in the heavens, causing a vast amount of spiritual energy to pour in from beyond the heavens and making it impossible for the cultivation world not to flourish. Shang Song's wife, Li Ge, the queen of Wu Kingdom, had not forgotten their original intentions. She therefore repaired the heavens, after which the husband and wife vanished without a trace.
After the couple disappeared, no one could suppress the hundreds of vassal states that had been enfeoffed throughout the world. The vassals plunged into war, and the conflict had continued to this day.
According to legend, Shang Song refined a set of magical treasures consisting of eight pieces. Shang Song's act of piercing the heavens and Li Ge's act of repairing them had both relied on these treasures. When Wu Kingdom collapsed, the divine artifacts scattered beyond its borders, and the eight treasures continued circulating among the vassal states. As the smaller states were swallowed up one after another, the world eventually became divided among eight powers, and each of the eight treasures fell into the hands of one of those nations. Every country regarded its treasure as a divine artifact that guarded the nation. The Business Mirror was the divine artifact guarding Qin Kingdom. It was said to be the key to the treasures used to pierce and repair the heavens, the foremost of the Eight Treasures. It had therefore drawn cultivators into the fray and brought about Qin Kingdom's destruction. When Qin Kingdom's imperial court collapsed, the Business Mirror vanished without a trace, and none of the forces searching for it had found any clue.
The crux of the matter was that, according to rumor, when Li Ge, the queen of Wu Kingdom, repaired the heavens, she had not fully mended them; a crack still remained. Some people believed that this was connected to the excessive number of cultivators in the world. Once cultivators became too numerous, competing with the common people for profit was unavoidable. They believed that the cultivators' constant interference in worldly affairs had caused the wars ravaging the world to continue without end. Thus, some people wanted to gather all eight magical treasures to seal the crack in the heavens and sever the source of spiritual energy. Naturally, doing so would make enemies of every cultivator under heaven. Prince Ning Shang Jianbo, the Grand Marshal of Yan Kingdom, was the foremost representative of this faction.
As it happened, Shangqing Sect had an unworthy disciple who was entangled with Prince Ning Shang Jianbo—Dongguo Haoran, for example.
Recently, rumors had suddenly spread throughout the outside world that the Business Mirror had reappeared. Tang Mu and Dongguo Haoran had taken their disciples out at precisely this time, and had returned in this state without anyone knowing what they had been doing. It was difficult not to suspect that their movements were connected to the Business Mirror.
How many cultivation sects stood behind a single nation? And the Business Mirror was something capable of bringing about the destruction of a country. If Shangqing Sect had provoked such a thing, how could anyone not be worried? Shangqing Sect was no longer the flourishing Shangqing Sect of its early years. It had long since declined and could not withstand a storm.
Tang Mu slowly closed his eyes. "You are overthinking it. I was merely ambushed by people of unknown identities."
The several people had more or less seen through it. Tang Mu simply did not want to reveal the truth. In his condition, he could collapse at any moment, and no one could force him...
At daybreak the next day, the temple gate creaked open a crack, and one eye peered out through it several times.
The crack gradually widened, and Daoist Master stuck his head out, looking left and right.
The gate opened farther. Daoist Master cautiously eased one foot out and sidled through, tiptoeing silently so as not to make a sound while continuing to observe the activity outside. After stepping out, he circled the little temple, listening with pricked ears and looking with wide eyes as he carefully surveyed his surroundings.
It seemed to be deep winter. Outside, the sky was freezing cold, and the grass and trees were withered and yellow.
He threw several stones around to test the path. When nothing happened and he found that there truly seemed to be no danger, Daoist Master, who was standing outside the temple on the hillside, finally relaxed and straightened his body, which had been hunched from maintaining his vigilance. He once again pulled out the Bronze Mirror, its polished surface bright enough to reflect his features, and sighed as he examined his face from side to side.
He stuffed the mirror back into his clothes. Seeing the stream at the foot of the mountain, he raced down the slope. When he reached the stream, he leaped onto a stone in the water and looked at his reflection rippling in the current. "Sigh!" He let out another long breath.
He had looked into the mirror earlier in the temple by the light from outside. Combining that with his current condition, he had more or less figured out why the old man had called him "little brother." The old man had not been wrong—he really was a little brother. He had discovered that he had become a tiny young lad.
He slowly crouched on the stone and gazed at his reflection in the clear stream for a while. Then his stomach rumbled. He was hungry.
Regardless of what connection this young lad had with him, he was the one truly suffering from the hunger. He rose and looked around. He had to find something to eat.
By chance, he saw what seemed to be wisps of cooking smoke rising beyond the mountain. He leaped across the stream, found a rough path that appeared to lead in that direction, and cautiously felt his way along it.
After crossing the ridge, he hid behind a large tree and looked around. There, he saw a village.
The village was somewhat chaotic, as if it had been burned. Many women and children were weeping and wailing, while the villagers cleared away the wreckage.
Daoist Master looked at his own clothes. His filthy hemp shoes were full of holes, and his big toes poked out and curled upward. It was a truly pitiful sight. However, his appearance matched that of the villagers, giving him enough confidence to show himself. With a hint of guilt, he walked toward the village.
As soon as he entered, a disheveled woman ran over and wailed like a ghost as she threw her arms around him. "Brother Dao, you're still alive! I thought those murderous bandits had done you in..."
An hour later, Daoist Master understood the situation. The village had been looted by rogue soldiers the previous day, and some people had been killed or wounded. He had probably appeared in that ruined temple because he had been hiding from them.
The cooking smoke died away. The men in the village, who had eaten less than half a meal, began heading into the mountains to find food. Their main task was to dig up roots and tubers or hunt wild beasts so the villagers could survive the winter. The village's grain had all been looted by the bandits. The little food they had just eaten had been hidden by someone and escaped the bandits' notice, but it was nowhere near enough to fill the whole village. The meager supply was temporarily given to the men who had to perform strenuous labor. The elderly, women, and children had to endure their hunger and continue cleaning up the wrecked village while they waited for the men to bring back food from the mountains.
Somehow, Daoist Master became one of the men searching for food. The young lad was counted as a man too.
He was no longer called Daoist Master here. His real name in this village was Niu Youdao. Whether by the timing of fate or the decree of destiny, it happened to match his title of "Daoist Master."
Niu Youdao it was, then. Daoist Master did not care. He did not even know how he had somehow become Niu Youdao.
Although this strange event astonished him, it was not especially difficult for him to accept. He had made his living "excavating tombs" and had seen plenty of the aftermath of death. Strange and bizarre incidents were nothing unusual. He had also encountered many legends in ancient texts about souls inhabiting human bodies. While others regarded such things as superstition, he had always held the attitude that they existed if one believed in them and did not if one did not. After confirming his condition, he remained calm and accepted it with equanimity.
In any case, he was not an unknown person here. He had a plausible identity, and Daoist Master decided that he would simply be called Niu Youdao.
The task of searching nearby for food was given to the youths, while the more dangerous journey into the distance was assigned to the adults.
Under the pretext of searching for food, Niu Youdao slipped away. He did not look for food; instead, he returned to the ruined temple.
He tore down a tattered cloth curtain hanging inside the temple, wrapped the old man's corpse in it, and carried it down the mountain to the riverside the old man had mentioned.
He entered a bamboo grove and swung a woodcutter's knife, felling some bamboo. He trimmed away the branches and leaves, cut the stalks to length, and soaked withered vines and similar materials in water. Then he wove a sturdy three-layered connected bamboo raft. It was broad, spacious, and stable. With his life experience, making a bamboo raft was a very simple task and did not take much effort.
He placed bamboo tubes underneath as rollers, pushed the woven raft rumbling into the water, and laid the old man's corpse on it. He also gathered a pile of dry firewood and stacked it on top, then found a large, flat stone by the stream and placed that on the raft as well.
A simple oar and a bamboo pole went onto the raft too, along with the hoe he had brought from the village.
With one chop, he severed the withered vine holding it in place. He braced the bamboo pole against the bank, and the raft, carrying its passenger, drifted away from shore.
He poled the raft along with the current, slowly parting the jade-green ripples as it drifted away.
As for why he had not stayed behind to rebuild the village with the villagers, first, he felt no attachment to them. Besides, these villagers who had holed up in the mountain valley knew little of the outside world. He had pretended to be foolish and asked them many questions, only to discover that they did not even understand the situation beyond their own doorstep. He did not want to remain here and farm. He was curious about this world, and even more curious about the Shangqing Sect Dongguo Haoran had mentioned, with its frighteningly profound Internal Energy. Back when he had still been Daoist Master, he had been fond of such cultivation techniques and often searched ancient tombs for similar texts. He had a powerful desire to visit Shangqing Sect and see it for himself.
Second, this wretched place was frequently looted by bandit soldiers. The family of this young body had long since been ravaged by those bandits, and there were many others in the village in the same situation. He was alone, with nothing to hold him back, so there was no reason not to leave.
He had not wanted to stay long either. Since he was still unfamiliar with the villagers, he left as quickly as possible, afraid that if he stayed too long and formed bonds with them, parting would become difficult. Thus, he slipped away quietly.
He had received the kindness of a meal and would repay it when he had the means, even though it had not been enough to fill him halfway.
As for bringing Dongguo Haoran's corpse along, he felt it would be safer to take some evidence to Shangqing Sect. Perhaps it would also make him look a little more sincere?
In this freezing weather, he figured the body would keep reasonably well. Carrying it along was no trouble.
P.S.: This is a new book, so recommendations and collections are very important. Sorry for the trouble, but please be kind enough to click!
Before you continue