Chapter Forty: He Encountered a Benefactor

That very night, the Grand Cultivator of Qinglu Mountain witnessed with his own eyes Chen Xuan slay Huang Liangmeng. A murderous intent stirred within him. Yet in the end, Qing Yaizi did nothing and withdrew in silence.

Chen Xuan believed that the rule forbidding the great cultivators of Chu Kingdom from venturing into the Southern Wilderness could not restrain a wrathful grand cultivator. If the cultivators of Xuankong Temple dared to cross over clandestinely, then a lawless demonic powerhouse like Qing Yaizi would be even more reckless.

A chill ran down Chen Xuan’s spine as he spoke aloud, “Please, senior, enlighten me.” There must be a force equal or superior to Qing Yaizi’s, causing him to retreat in fear. Yet Chen Xuan was utterly unaware of any such presence influencing these events.

There was but one explanation: he, like Huang Liangmeng and Liuyutian, had been ensnared by some hidden power.

“I have journeyed far, fortune following me at every turn, slaying foes left and right as if bathed in a radiant halo. Everything has been too smooth,” Chen Xuan murmured to himself.

“You possess a root strength of eight thousand jin; with just one glance, I knew you were destined for greatness. In the entire region of Chiya City, no one of your caliber has appeared in a hundred years... Yet you have become a wild cultivator of the mountains and marshes. How absurd!” The elderly white turtle’s eyebrows fluttered in the wind as he sneered.

Destined individuals like Huang Liangmeng and Liuyutian, upon revelation, would attract countless pursuers eager to seize them. Though Chen Xuan was not on their level, he was still a promising young cultivator with a bright future. Yet no one sought him out—an illogical circumstance.

The old white turtle continued, “There are no accidents in this world. Any so-called accident is but a ruse, orchestrated behind the scenes.”

Chen Xuan’s breath quickened, his mind roiled as he recalled the unexpected events he had encountered. The Small Netherworld? No, that was no accident; Lady Xuanmao’s duty was to handle cultivator deaths, and the matter in Liuzhen involved Huang Liangmeng, so she would have appeared instantly.

Further back, his encounter with the three from the Chu family… Suddenly, a lightning flash struck his mind, grasping at something.

Instinctively, he drew from his bosom a jade hairpin of unknown material, murmuring, “The problem lies within the underground palace…”

Three years prior, he had spent a night in the abandoned Taotown without incident. But on this return, a deeply buried underground palace had suddenly appeared.

By chance, Chen Xuan had gained something from it, greatly enhancing his combat power and giving him the leverage to confront Huang Liangmeng.

“The timing is too precise; one day earlier or later wouldn’t have worked.”

An inexplicable thought came to him: hundreds upon hundreds of mountain demons in the palace had been driven off by a novice cultivator just beginning to cultivate qi. These demons were savage, born to drink human blood; cultivators did not fear them, and they did not fear cultivators.

Then he recalled the overly “loyal” bronze horse and muttered, “Are they all conspiring together...?”

At the time, while searching the noble woman’s golden garments within the bronze coffin, he had a faint feeling of being coldly watched from afar.

The elderly white turtle raised a claw in salute and praised him, “A keen intuition. You have likely guessed part of the truth... The material of your jade hairpin is called ‘Jinyu Paste.’”

The Classic of Western Mountains states: “It is born of profound jade; the finest jinyu and yu jade... Heaven, earth, ghosts, and spirits partake of it; a gentleman wears it to ward off misfortune...”

“Such a divine treasure!” Chen Xuan was startled; he had seen records of this in ancient texts.

This five-colored profound jade was born in the Age of Mountains and Seas and was once consumed by ancient sages and immortals.

Since the end of that era, this treasure had vanished; each piece of jade paste remaining in the world was a rare relic.

The old white turtle pointed at the hairpin and smiled, “I once saw a ghostly friend from the mountains use one just like this... You must have caught her favor.”

Chen Xuan inquired, “Please, senior, enlighten me—what does your friend intend?”

He could not understand why this being secretly aided him. Did she covet his exceptional talent and wish to take him as a disciple? But she was a spirit; she would not care for a human.

“I shouldn’t say much, but the matter she seeks is no secret within the Southern Wilderness.” The old white turtle paused, then continued, “She once ventured into the Peach Blossom Source as a child and failed to retrieve something. She likely wants you to fetch it.”

The Peach Blossom Source was unstable and could not admit great cultivators; only those who had reached the Transcendence stage could enter.

Chen Xuan was adept at magical combat, unrivaled among his peers—making him the perfect candidate.

“Huang Liangmeng is a great threat, and many eyes watch him. It could spoil the plan. My ghostly friend’s temper being what it is, she likely forced him into the Southern Wilderness, giving you a chance to eliminate him early.”

No wonder Wang Chan had acted arrogantly and recklessly upon arrival; he was not here by choice!

The old white turtle smiled, standing on tiptoe, his seaweed-like hand patting Chen Xuan’s shoulder.

“Child, in a few days she will come to find you... Rest assured, she will not let you suffer.”

Chen Xuan sighed helplessly, “I do not wish to encounter such favors.”

But what choice did he have?

He had already consumed the White Lingzhi Yao Herb and wielded the Jinyu hairpin as a weapon.

The old white turtle squinted, saying, “Child, understand this: the useless have no right even to be used.”

Chen Xuan fell silent, recalling fragments of Wang Chan’s past life memories concerning the Peach Blossom Source.

“Chen Xuan, he met a noble benefactor...” someone from Qinglu Mountain had once remarked in admiration.

So it was here.

...

The mountain winds howled, and several more days passed in a flash.

The outskirts of the Southern Wilderness grew increasingly lively.

The main force of Qinglu Mountain had arrived, with young disciples led by Shen Lingfeng loudly proclaiming their intent to hunt a cultivator named “Chen Xuan.”

The commotion was fierce, yet curiously, Shen Lingfeng did not set foot inside the Southern Wilderness mountains.

One disciple asked in confusion, “Brother Shen, what is your plan? I heard someone named ‘Wang Chan,’ also from Liuzhen, caused a disturbance at Xuankong Temple not long ago—very suspicious.”

Shen Lingfeng replied coldly, “I have my arrangements. Focus on your own tasks and don’t interfere!”

The disciples hesitated, thinking, Isn’t our task to hunt Chen Xuan? It seems Brother Shen has been frightened out of his wits.

Several cultivator families from Chiya City also arrived at Xiahe Village.

Chen Xuan cultivated near Little Stone Lake and had seen a few young cultivators dressed in splendid robes, radiating an extraordinary aura. They observed him from afar but never approached.

“No treasure fish remain in Little Stone Lake,” the disciples lamented. They had searched there for opportunities but found nothing and eventually left, and gradually, no one came anymore.

The old white turtle muttered, “Useless treasure fish, not worthy of entering my belly.”

That very night, he turned around, came to Little Stone Lake, and caught an entire brood of treasure fish, relocating them elsewhere.

“No one disturbing them is for the best.”

Chen Xuan sat alone by the lake, cultivating the Huangliang True Scripture.

In recent days, he had fully absorbed the medicinal effects of the Buddha Heart Treasure Tree and the treasure fish, his energy reaching over sixteen thousand jin.

Having completed his second Transcendence stage, his constitution had once again reached its limit.

---

One evening, the old white turtle sought out Chen Xuan, complaining bitterly, “Alas! I shouldn’t have spoken so much that day, now the trouble falls on me.”

Chen Xuan blinked, puzzled.

The old white turtle stared at him with a strange expression, clicking his tongue, “Boy, I underestimated you. Be honest—did you offend my ghostly friend? She refuses to meet you in person.”

“???” Chen Xuan was stunned, opening his mouth and, feeling guilty, replied, “No, I respect her very much.”

In the underground palace, his actions had been somewhat casual, but he swore he treated the noble woman’s body coldly—as one would a plant or stone, harboring no improper thoughts.

“Hmph!”

The old white turtle snorted and did not press further. Then he spoke plainly, “She asked me to tell you two things.”

Chen Xuan sat upright, “Please go on.”

The old white turtle tossed him a letter. “First, upon entering the Peach Blossom Source, give this letter to the hidden destined one there. He will hand you some items… If he refuses, kill him and take them by force.”

“Destined one?”

Chen Xuan’s heart leapt. There was a destined person within the Peach Blossom Source.

He was to encounter a destined one for the third time. What strange powers would this one possess?

“Yes, a desperate soul with no way out,” the old white turtle replied casually, then his expression turned serious.

“Second, she wants to remind you—the incident at Xuankong Temple was no accident.”

“No accident?”

Chen Xuan’s face darkened, anger rising swiftly within. He had suspected as much—the three old monks had attacked him on mere suspicion, reckless and senseless. Later, other ascetic monks blocked him with evident murderous intent. His instincts warned him something was amiss, yet he could not stop fighting.

He had thought himself foolish for underestimating others, only to realize there was indeed a hidden scheme.

The old white turtle studied Chen Xuan’s grim expression and explained:

“As I said, whenever you encounter the unexpected and sense something off, don’t doubt it—someone is scheming behind the scenes.”

“The grand cultivators of Xuankong Temple constantly watch the Southern Wilderness.”

“Every ascetic cultivator who practices Baiqi serves as their informant.”

“The matter of the ancient script—you saw it because they stirred their disciples’ Baiqi to observe the Southern Wilderness, and you couldn’t resist probing.”

“But their minds are dull; their actions clumsy, full of flaws.”

...

The old white turtle paused, then smiled, “You do not need to concern yourself with what follows. You are the one she chose. She is angry now and will seek justice on your behalf.”

Chen Xuan had no desire for anyone to settle scores for him. Only silence filled his heart, mingled with a faint sense of powerlessness.

These affairs were beyond his control.

In a low voice, Chen Xuan asked, “Are you grand cultivators truly omnipotent and all-knowing?”

After a long silence, the old white turtle replied slowly:

“If I had not spoken, you would never have learned of these things in your lifetime.”

“You have talent, and thus cannot avoid these trials... Not just you, no one can resist.”

“Destined ones like Huang Liangmeng and Liuyutian face even greater hardships; from ancient times to now, few end well, becoming but fleeting sparks in the sky.”