A Deduction, Nurturing the Spirit Among Mountains and Waters

Boom!

A tremendous collision erupted in the mountain forest.

Plants turned to ash, and rocks shattered.

Xuanming retreated several steps, leaving a footprint with each one. The impressions grew shallower as he shed the force of the recoil.

When the dust cleared, a pit twenty feet deep came into view. The gravely wounded snake demon lay within it, bleeding without cease.

The Peachwood Sword was embedded in his vital spot, pinning down his lifeline and impeding the circulation of his Magic Power, leaving him unable to escape.

The more he thrashed and twisted, the deeper the wooden sword sank.

Seeing this, Xuanming breathed a sigh of relief.

This demon had been troublesome and mysterious, but he had finally subdued him.

With a light sweep of his Fly-Whisk, Xuanming walked to the edge of the pit. Standing with his hands behind his back, he gazed down at the snake demon and said calmly:

"Half a month ago, word came from below the mountain that several True Persons of the Purple Dawn Sect had left their sect and headed straight for the Azure Waves River."

"If my deduction is correct, you should be a split soul of that Evil Flood Dragon riding the floodwaters. Your true body is most likely sealed away."

With his secret laid bare, the snake demon's pupils shook.

Though his panic vanished in a flash, impossibly quickly, Xuanming, who had been watching him closely all along, still caught it.

I actually guessed right!

Xuanming was inwardly startled.

In truth, he had not been certain whether this was a Flood Dragon's split soul.

He had merely recalled that the Flood Dragon riding the floodwaters was the only major event of late. As a split soul, the snake demon possessed strength far beyond the Essence Refining stage, so his true body certainly could not be an ordinary Qi Refining Realm cultivator.

Moreover, this demon excelled at controlling water and had even shaped water into a flood-dragon during their last few exchanges. That was why Xuanming had boldly tried to bluff him.

He had never expected there really to be a connection to that Flood Dragon.

With his doubts resolved, killing intent blazed in Xuanming's heart. The Peachwood Sword erupted with dazzling sword light as he struck mercilessly.

Before the snake demon could even scream, his life ended and his cultivation perished.

Raising his hand to recall the Peachwood Sword, Xuanming looked at the minced flesh in the pit, stroked his beard, and nodded with a satisfied smile. This time, the demon could not be any deader. He refused to believe he could come back to life again.

As for the Flood Dragon, although Xuanming was worried and wary, he was not so afraid that merely mentioning him would drain the color from his face.

The Purple Dawn Sect was a major sect of the Daoist Tradition in Fengyang Commandery, with several True Persons presiding over it and a legacy spanning a thousand years.

Since they had acted to subdue the demon and seal the Flood Dragon away, he should find it difficult to break free for a very long time.

Otherwise, this demon would not have gone to the trouble of splitting off a wisp of his soul and possessing a snake demon. Clearly, he lacked confidence in breaking the seal himself and had therefore planned to coordinate efforts from within and without.

Thus, Xuanming had plenty of time to cultivate and grow. With his accumulated foundation and the mysteries of the Yellow Court Scripture, he was confident he could enter the Qi Refining Realm next year and become a True Person.

By the time the Flood Dragon broke free, he would only be stronger.

Even if he was still no match for the Flood Dragon then, protecting the Truth-Seeking Abbey should not be difficult.

Of course, if he was strong enough, Xuanming would not hesitate to draw his sword and slay the flood-dragon, eliminating the hidden threat.

Besides, could he really have let the snake demon go?

If fear of the Flood Dragon had truly made him show mercy and release the snake demon, Xuanming's thoughts would have become obstructed, his Dao Heart clouded with dust, and his state of mind unable to break through, hindering his cultivation.

As for suppressing or subjugating the snake demon, the thought had crossed his mind, but he had rejected it as soon as it appeared. Would suppressing him not leave a glaring marker or a vulnerability on Floating Cloud Mountain?

As for subjugating the snake demon...

Who knew how many years the Flood Dragon had lived?

Such an old monster had a devious, unfathomable mind, with hidden cards emerging one after another and depths impossible to measure.

Although the snake demon was only a split soul, his essential nature remained unchanged. His schemes ran deep, and who knew how many tricks he had concealed? Rather than live in constant anxiety, guarding against him or matching wits and courage, it was better to simply kill him.

Xuanming only wanted to focus on cultivating the Dao, not divide his attention among intrigue and scheming. Killing him outright was simple and clear-cut.

The future's troubles could be settled in the future.

Before the Flood Dragon broke free, it all depended on whether he could rise to the occasion.

Several figures bounded through the mountain forest.

They were the young Daoists who had remained at the Truth-Seeking Abbey, drawn over by the commotion of Xuanming's magical battle with the snake demon.

Upon arriving and seeing the devastation, they sucked in cold breaths. Looking at the white-haired old Daoist standing atop the treetops in the moonlight, his hands behind his back, their faces filled with undisguised awe and admiration.

They had never imagined that this martial uncle would soar into the heavens after entering the Dao, advancing through cultivation like a blade splitting bamboo. Now his strength was terrifying indeed. He was probably already among the abbey's foremost experts.

"Greetings, Martial Uncle!"

The Daoists bowed in salute, and Xuanming nodded in return.

Leaving the cleanup to them, he lightly tapped the treetop with his toes, rose into the air, and turned to leave.

His bearing was otherworldly, graceful and unrestrained.

Inside the thatched cottage in the Path-Seeking Courtyard of the Scripture Pavilion.

Xuanming sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, eyes closed as he reviewed what he had gained. The day's events had taken one twist after another. He had slain several demons in succession, then killed a Great Demon’s split soul. It had certainly been a tumultuous affair.

Though no fish had slipped through the net, many problems had been exposed. He needed to sort through the details, draw conclusions, and check for gaps, turning it all into nourishment for his own growth.

Only half an hour later did he begin meditating and cultivating.

The sun's crow flew and the moon's rabbit ran; the constellations wheeled and the stars shifted.

Half a month later, the Daoists returned to the mountain one after another.

They were deeply alarmed to learn that demons had infiltrated Floating Cloud Mountain, but upon hearing that Xuanming had stepped in and slain them all, they felt a great weight lift from their shoulders.

Afterward, they went to the Scripture Pavilion in turn to pay their respects.

To Xuanming, killing a few minor demons was nothing significant. As a fellow Daoist of the Truth-Seeking Abbey, he had merely done what he should.

For the first two visits, he received them cordially.

On the third, he simply shut his doors to visitors and asked Chang'anzi to pass along a message:

If they had other business, they could enter the pavilion to meet him.

If they had come to thank him, they should turn around and head home.

They were all fellow martial brothers; there was no need for such courtesy.

Unless they had business, they should not disturb this humble Daoist's reading of the scriptures.

The Daoists shook their heads helplessly.

They knew that the last sentence was the real point.

Their senior brother disliked having his peace disturbed.

That being so, the Daoists naturally stopped visiting.

As their senior brother had said, there was no need for empty courtesies.

A place of Daoist cultivation ought to have fewer cumbersome worldly rituals and less stuffiness, and more tranquility and sincerity.

Once Xuan Yin and Xuan Su returned from handling the aftermath, life at the Truth-Seeking Abbey returned to normal.

The Daoists cultivated, and Xuanming read scriptures.

Morning Bell and Evening Drum sounded on the mountain, where the passing days were peaceful and serene.

It possessed the carefree air of a Daoist haven that coveted nothing of the mortal world.

Under the arrangements of the imperial commissioner, the people of Floating Cloud County also rebuilt their homes, and smiles began appearing on their careworn faces.

Along with praising the Imperial Court, they would occasionally raise their heads toward Floating Cloud Mountain, shrouded in clouds and mist, their eyes filled with gratitude.

Without the mountain Daoists' timely aid, they would never have survived until the Imperial Court's representatives arrived. The people of Floating Cloud County knew this perfectly well.

A month and a half later, the people below the mountain had settled into their homes again, and the county town was gradually recovering its vitality.

In the Scripture Pavilion, the old Daoist on the mountain finally finished reading and comprehending six hundred volumes of Daoist scriptures. Their principles grew clearer in his heart, and his Dao Heart became lucid and open. An air of freedom radiated from within him, making his bearing ever more that of an Immortal.

That afternoon, for once, he did not remain cooped up in the Scripture Pavilion. He stepped outside and wandered through the mountain forest.

Sometimes he rode a bamboo pole downstream, drifting over the water; sometimes he chased a rabbit until he was covered in dirt, without using the slightest Magic Power.

He entrusted his feelings to the mountains and waters, refining his temperament, nurturing body and mind, and seeking a measure of nature's simple purity.

That night, he returned when his enjoyment was spent.

Inside the thatched cottage in the Path-Seeking Courtyard.

After eating breakfast, Xuanming burned incense and bathed.

With his essence, qi, and Divine at their peak, he sat cross-legged on the meditation cushion, calmed his heart and mind, gathered his consciousness, and entered the Mystic Pass.

Amid a hazy expanse, three Daoist scriptures appeared.

Dao qi swirled, Dao principles intertwined, and Dao laws coiled around them.