Golden Mist, Mountain God Priest

Night fell, and the temperature plummeted.

After driving the cattle and sheep into the enclosure, Dorje and his father did not rest.

The two cultivated outside the tent.

In this day and age, the emergence and proliferation of mutated beasts was a problem no one engaged in outdoor activities could avoid.

Dorje's herd was often harassed by mutated beasts.

For that reason, they had to possess sufficient strength to protect their livestock.

Standing outside the tent, Yuan Tianzong silently watched the father and son cultivate.

Dorje was practicing a fierce, hard-hitting fist style. As a top grandmaster-level martial artist, Yuan Tianzong could tell at a glance that this style emphasized fighting over training.

Put simply, it was a style for brawling and showing off one's courage, rather than a boxing art that internally cultivated the qi and blood while tempering the sinews and bones.

From Yuan Tianzong's perspective, Dorje had taken the wrong path.

He was not yet old enough, and his bones had not fully set. This was precisely the golden period for internally tempering his sinews and bones.

As the saying went, ten years of honing one's fists gave birth to tiger strength; a thousand autumns of laying foundations produced dragon sinews.

This was not how one practiced boxing.

This kind of training might yield remarkable results in the short term, but it could not withstand the erosion of time. Before long, his sinews and bones would be riddled with hidden injuries. No matter how hard he worked, he would cease to improve. His qi and blood might even decline, leaving him fifty at thirty.

Seeing Dorje's resolute, earnest face, Yuan Tianzong started toward him, intending to lead him away from this mistaken path.

Just then, the Tibetan mastiffs lying nearby suddenly began to growl.

The cattle and sheep within the enclosure also became restless.

One by one, herders emerged from the surrounding tents, their expressions uneasy as they rapidly exchanged words in Tibetan that Yuan Tianzong could not understand.

An elderly herder with graying hair emerged from a tent. Everyone, including Dorje's father, Jiege, gathered around him.

The old herder's wrinkles were deep, like ravines in the mountains. They bore witness to the years. He was a respected elder with great prestige within this small community of herders.

Led by the old herder, everyone fell to their knees and kowtowed in unison, muttering prayers in Tibetan.

Yuan Tianzong asked Dorje what they were doing.

Dorje said they were worshipping the sacred mountain, hoping the Mountain God would quell His anger.

A sacred mountain?

Yuan Tianzong looked in the direction they were worshipping.

Kunlun Heavenly Mountain. They were paying homage to that most sacred mountain peak that pierced the heavens.

Kunlun had held great significance throughout China's history for thousands of years. Masters of feng shui from all walks of life called it the ancestor of all mountains and the source of dragon veins. It was steeped in myth.

After the phantom image of the South Heaven Gate appeared, most people had crowded toward that mountain, believing it was the place most likely to offer a great opportunity.

As Yuan Tianzong gazed toward Kunlun Heavenly Mountain, a mysterious golden mist suddenly emerged amid the distant mountain ranges.

The moment the golden mist appeared, the herders kowtowed more rapidly, and the fear on their faces became even more apparent.

The Mountain God came with the golden mist.

Yuan Tianzong recalled Jiege's words.

The next second, he vanished from where he stood. By the time Dorje reacted, he had already dashed into the mountains beneath the night sky, moving far too fast.

Dorje was awestruck.

Bang, bang...

Yuan Tianzong raced like lightning.

In just over ten minutes, he had ascended several hundred meters and stood atop a steep glacier. He stared at the churning golden mist a thousand meters away, his eyes bright and his mind focused.

His ever-strengthening eyesight functioned like a camera's zoom, repeatedly pulling the distant scene closer and enlarging it.

The golden mist roiled, crystalline and mysterious, hazy and boiling. It gave off the ancient, unfathomable feeling of something that had settled through countless years.

Staring into it, Yuan Tianzong caught sight of something strange, and his expression shifted slightly—Dao characters floating in the air!

He was utterly stunned. Dao characters had appeared in midair, fluttering like butterflies!

From afar, an indescribable Dao resonance seemed to spread outward. Though it was less dazzling than the surrounding golden mist, it firmly seized Yuan Tianzong's gaze and seemed even more brilliant.

At that moment, Yuan Tianzong's qi and blood roared, and a wild, powerful aura suddenly spread out!

The power hidden within his flesh and blood was roused. He stepped and leaped, shooting forward like an arrow and crossing the thousand-meter distance in an instant, plunging into the golden mist.

Just as he was about to charge into the mist, Yuan Tianzong's powerful senses made his expression turn grave.

The golden mist churned, and a torrent of energy like a streak of silk blasted straight at his face!

Faced with this sudden, unknown attack, Yuan Tianzong showed no panic whatsoever. His qi and blood thundered as true qi surged into his legs!

His violent legs swung like heavy axes, and the wind pressure formed by true qi and qi and blood came crashing down like a mountain, suffocating all beneath it!

A deafening boom erupted, forcibly blasting open a patch of empty space in the golden mist.

A strange shriek rang out from deep within the golden mist.

Once Yuan Tianzong landed and steadied himself, his sharp gaze quickly locked onto a patch of snowless ground, where several dark golden scales stained with blood had been left behind.

When his foot stepped onto that patch of ground, the soil was soft.

Yuan Tianzong pondered for a moment, then raised his head and looked around at the golden mist.

Within it, some things became even more indistinct. The fluttering Dao characters he had seen earlier had vanished without a trace, leaving only a brilliant expanse of gold.

After thinking for a while, he sat cross-legged and began circulating his cultivation method through the cycles of heaven.

Sure enough, the method worked. The golden mist filling the surroundings flowed into his body along with his circulation of qi.

The instant the golden mist entered his body, Yuan Tianzong abruptly opened his eyes. His pitch-black pupils took on a pale golden sheen like a solar corona, like cracking open a bottle of ice-cold Sprite on a scorching summer day and taking that first gulp.

Cool to the core!

"This feeling... a spiritual ascension?!"

Yuan Tianzong was immensely shocked. Wave after wave of invisible force rippled outward from him like rings on water.

He calmed his emotions, closed his eyes again, and absorbed the golden mist with all his strength.

At the same time.

At the herders' camp where Dorje was.

The kowtowing old herder suddenly raised his head and listened to the strange intonation drifting from afar. The unease in his eyes deepened, as did that of the other herders.

Before long, the owner of that strange voice arrived.

It was a bizarre procession. More than ten people jointly carried an altar platform, each bare-chested and bare-backed, their bodies painted with grotesque, intricate patterns in thick, vivid colors.

On the altar platform, a priest wearing a brightly colored mask danced around a fire basin with exaggerated movements. In his hand, he constantly shook a small drum made from animal bones and hide. Every beat made the old herder and the others' hearts tighten.

Soon, the procession stopped before the old herder and the others.

The priest atop the altar stopped his strange dance and stood at the edge, looking down at the crowd.

"You have disturbed the Mountain God! He is enraged!"

"You must offer cattle and sheep as sacrifices to quell the Mountain God's wrath!"

The old herder kowtowed and said, "Lord Priest, please beseech the Mountain God for us. We never intended to offend the Mountain God. We beg for His forgiveness!"

"The Mountain God's wrath cannot be extinguished through prayers alone. Cattle and sheep must be offered as sacrifices!"

The old herder nodded as he kowtowed. "Yes, yes. We are willing to offer sacrifices. May I ask, Lord Priest, how many sacrifices are needed this time?"

The priest fell silent for a moment, then spoke. "One hundred cattle and one hundred sheep!"

One hundred cattle and one hundred sheep each?!

All the kowtowing herders abruptly raised their heads, anger surfacing in their eyes. A wicked fire surged in their chests, and they suppressed it with all their might.

Some could suppress it. Others could not.

Jiege could not help questioning him. "Respected Lord Priest, not long ago, we already offered precious cattle and sheep to quell the Mountain God's anger. Only a few days have passed, and now we must make another offering—twice as much as before. Does the Mountain God intend to deny us even a bowl of warm meat soup this winter?"

Jiege's words struck straight to the hearts of all the herders. They stood beside Jiege, glaring angrily at the priest above them.

The priest said nothing. The surroundings were silent.

Suddenly, the eyes beneath the priest's mask turned white, and his entire body began trembling uncontrollably.

Rumble!

The ground shook. The Tibetan mastiffs whimpered and lay flat on the ground, while all the cattle and sheep crowded together in sheer terror.

"The Mountain God is here! The Mountain God is here!"