For Tong Yan, the only places that could guarantee his safety were the Netherworld and Green Mountain Hidden Peak.
He never wanted to visit the Netherworld again in his life, so he could only live on Hidden Peak.
A century of seclusion inevitably brought some tedium and loneliness, but fortunately, that was no hardship for a Daoist cultivator. He spent most of his time cultivating-Jing Jiu had given him no sword manual, so he was still practicing the Zhongzhou Sect's Daoist arts. In his spare time, he played a few games of Go against himself. Every few years, he left his cave abode to wander Hidden Peak, treading its carpet of green grass, brushing his fingertips over the wildflowers covering the mountains, and listening quietly to the wind passing through that bamboo flute.
That bamboo flute had been the key to Fang Jingtian's flowers blooming into the Heaven-Connecting Realm. At some unknown point, he had put it back.
This peaceful life had remained unbroken until the previous autumn.
Tong Yan received a letter from Chaoge City and learned of the difficult situation facing the Green Mountain Sect-or, more precisely, Divine End Peak.
The Green Mountain Sect was choosing a new Sect Master?
Thinking about these matters, he packed away his Go board and stones and left his cave abode. Before leaving, he remembered to press the stone button beneath the table, turning the red light on the cliff green.
Passing through the dense fog and entering the Sword Prison, he held fast to his true heart, ignoring the mountain-high, sea-deep auras of blood and foul darkness in the prison cells. He followed the long, dim passage to that shaft of daylight, bowed to Corpse Dog, and flew out.
The cave abode on Shangde Peak was as cold as ever, though