Chapter 158: Wind in the Pines

Lately, traces of numerous Taoist practitioners began to appear around Twilight Sun City. Although bound by rules and refraining from wantonly displaying miraculous arts before ordinary mortals, a subtle and tense atmosphere had quietly taken root.

"Your elder sister has caught wind of some rumors," Hua Mei said. "It is said to involve the Lindong Bai clan."

Qingyuan asked with surprise, "The Lindong Bai clan?"

Hua Mei replied, "Rumor has it that a great fortuitous opportunity left behind by the ancestor of the Bai clan has manifested there."

Qingyuan pondered, "The ancestor of the Bai clan, who is rumored to have attained the Dao and become an immortal?"

"None other than him." Hua Mei's tone suddenly turned somewhat peculiar. "An immortal who endures to this day, still overlooking the mortal realm from the heavenly realm."

Hearing this, Qingyuan looked back down at the letter in his hand and said in a deep voice, "Are those Taoist practitioners gathering in Twilight Sun City intending to seize this opportunity from the hands of the Lindong Bai clan?"

"The path of cultivation is fraught with hardship at every step, especially for rogue cultivators whose techniques are crude and who lack guidance, forcing them to grope their way forward alone. A single misstep leads to a deviation into madness," Hua Mei said. "When it concerns an immortal fortuitous opportunity, let alone the Lindong Bai clan, even the righteous sects might not be enough to hold them back."

"Yet the abilities of these practitioners are hardly formidable," Qingyuan remarked. "The person who sent out the letter to recruit the Master of White Emperor Cave likely possesses limited cultivation, certainly not reaching the True Person realm. And the Master of White Emperor Cave is merely a cultivator of the fourth heaven. What gives them the audacity to covet the Lindong Bai clan?"

"Chaos is their backing," Hua Mei answered. "News of this matter leaked long ago, sparking widespread turmoil. Forget about cultivators of the upper tiers; even those at the second heaven have hurried here upon hearing the news. When the situation descends into chaos, someone might just seize the opportunity in the melee and rise to prominence... History is full of such examples, take yourself for instance..."

Qingyuan knew she was referring to the affair at Mount Fuzhong.

In Mount Fuzhong, there had been one cultivator of the sixth heaven, four of the fifth heaven, and ten of the fourth heaven from the righteous sects, alongside the ancestor of the Sun family, two upper-tier masters including Sun Yu, as well as three rogue practitioners, figures from the Seven Spirits Gate, and disciples of the Huanhua Pavilion.

Yet the one who ultimately reaped the greatest benefit was Qingyuan himself.

"It is different," Qingyuan shook his head. "The righteous sects were entirely unaware of the ancient immortal's legacy treasure in Mount Fuzhong."

"Yet the underlying principle remains the same. Fishing in troubled waters is a common occurrence," Hua Mei said. "Practitioners struggle at every turn, and any fortuitous opportunity requires a desperate gamble, no matter how slim the hope. If you had no hope of achieving the upper-tier master realm in this lifetime, and an immortal opportunity appeared in Twilight Sun City, would you go?"

"I would," Qingyuan nodded. "Seizing an opportunity from the hands of the Lindong Bai clan and all the other factions offers a negligible chance of success and a nine-in-ten mortality rate, but it is still worth a desperate wager. If I stayed behind, I might live to a ripe old age, but I would remain stagnant for the rest of my life. Mortals are never content. To fade away in safety is far inferior to fighting for a breakthrough, even if it means dying in the present."

As he spoke these words, he could not help but recall his own thoughts when he descended from the Purple Tureen Palace upon a celestial crane.

"However—"

Qingyuan took a deep breath. "I still have hope of achieving the upper-tier master realm."

"You certainly don't lack ambition," Hua Mei chuckled. "Yet your background is mysterious, and even your elder sister cannot see through you. You indeed have the grounds for such confidence. To take a step back, even if you were an ordinary person who obtained an ancient immortal's treasure, speaking with such boldness would be well-deserved."

Qingyuan offered no reply.

Hua Mei asked, "Does that mean you will not go and court danger?"

Qingyuan nodded. "I truly have no reason to court danger. Remaining here in peace to cultivate allows my spiritual progress to increase day by day rather than stagnating. Is such devoted cultivation not a good thing?"

"Very well, as you wish."

Hua Mei said, "However, since you now reside in White Emperor Cave, and its master is dead, you may make use of his moniker should you ever need to deflect trouble."

Qingyuan asked, "Why so?"

"Because this Master of White Emperor Cave..."

Hua Mei smiled. "Never showed his true face to others."

Qingyuan put away the bamboo tube and destroyed the letter.

At present, his path of cultivation was a smooth highway, and he had no further reason to court danger. Furthermore, He Qing was resting here, nurtured by the Yin qi, and he was unwilling to leave without cause.

As for the Master of White Emperor Cave, it might serve as a useful identity.

"Never showed his true face?"

Qingyuan thought to himself, "Does she mean that if I too conceal my true appearance, I can effortlessly become this so-called Master of White Emperor Cave?"

...

Blue skies, white clouds, green mountains, and clear waters.

A young scholar stumbled in panic as he fled into the depths of the mountains.

The scholar was around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years of age, his fair face drenched in sweat, and his white robes stained with numerous smudges and dirt. He gasped for breath, frequently looking back over his shoulder.

"They aren't chasing me anymore..."

He let out a long breath, panting heavily as he looked around, only to realize that this deep, untamed forest had caused him to lose his way.

The scholar slapped his forehead in frustration, his face full of distress. When he looked back at the path he had come from, he saw only overgrown weeds; in his haste to flee for his life, he had paid no attention to the trail.

"I'll head back in the general direction I came from. Those people surely won't wait for me outside the mountain, right?"

Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked in the direction he had arrived from.

After about half an hour, the scholar felt like crying.

Because he suddenly discovered that he seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper, gradually wandering further into the heart of the mountains.

Deep mountain forests were rarely visited by humans, and there was no telling what fierce beasts might lurk within.

"Those men didn't give chase—could it be because this mountain is extremely dangerous?"

Panting, drenched in sweat, and utterly exhausted, the scholar leaned against a tree and pressed forward.

Ahead, a faint, watery gleam filtered through the gaps in the trees, perhaps indicating a lake.

Parched with thirst, the scholar headed toward the lake.

Suddenly, the scholar's footsteps halted, and a chill gripped his entire body.

For nestled among the grass and vines off to his side was a patch of black and yellow fur.

It was a crouching tiger.

And the tiger, having spotted him, rose to its feet.

The scholar stood frozen in place, cold sweat instantly breaking out across his brow, his palms chilling to the bone. He desperately wanted to turn and run, but his legs felt as though heavy weights were tied to them, so leaden that he could not even lift his feet. Looking at the ferocious expression on the tiger, he realized that even if he could run, he could never outrun those four legs...

"It's over, it's over... If I had known, I wouldn't have fled. Drowning in the river would have been better than being torn to pieces..."

The scholar took a ragged breath as he watched the tiger slowly approach.

The tiger was massive, its fur a vibrant yellow marked with black stripes. Its pale yellow eyes were cold and chilling. It suddenly parted its jaws, revealing its whiskers, terrifying fangs, and a pink tongue within.

A foul, fishy stench assaulted his senses.

The scholar felt like retching.

Just then, a sheet of water violently rushed through the air.

Struck by the torrent, the tiger tumbled across the ground, rose in a daze, shook its body, and sent water droplets flying in all directions. Afterward, seeming to sense something, it cast a hasty glance toward the lake and fled in a panic.

The scholar collapsed limply to the ground, his clothes thoroughly soaked. Panting, he raised his gaze toward the lake.

By the edge of the lake sat a boulder.

Seated upon the boulder was a figure.

That person held a bamboo fishing rod in hand, staring intently at the surface of the lake, quietly fishing.