Chapter 448: Sitting Alone in the Empty Hills, the Gentle Breeze Unmoved

The Daoist canon repository was completely silent. Wang Sheng had been standing still for an unknown amount of time, while Mu Wanxuan, seated outside the palace, had long fallen into a meditative trance, comprehending the Dao.

Gradually, Wang Sheng's aura began to rise. It was subtle enough to avoid disturbing his senior sister.

No one knew how much time had passed when his aura steadied again. A faint hum, like the soft pluck of a zither string, resonated within him. The Dao Rhythm around him surged into him, and a wisp of turbid breath gathered in his lower dantian before sinking deep into his Dao Body.

Puff.

Wang Sheng abruptly opened his eyes and glanced around to ensure no one was nearby. With a slightly embarrassed look, he released a burst of Pure Yang Qi and wrapped it around the wisp of turbid qi.

This sudden enlightenment had nudged his cultivation forward by a small yet meaningful step. In what seemed like a very short time for cultivators, he had broken through to the peak of the Rebirth Realm.

The Rebirth Realm was all about elevation and metamorphosis. It was where Nascent Souls transformed into Primordial Spirits, and where mortal bodies shed their worldly shells to become one of immortal essence. Breaking through out of nowhere and then expelling a bit of turbid qi from one's Dao Body was perfectly normal.

It was definitely not due to digestive malfunction!

After glancing at the doorway, where his senior sister still sat in deep meditation, Wang Sheng quietly drifted to a small window at the back. He then silently sent the turbid qi out into the forest.

When he circled from behind the repository, a surprising sight greeted him.

Was I in seclusion for a year or more?

He pulled out his phone and checked the time, discovering that only nine days had passed. Their sect's inauguration ceremony was in two days.

Why does everything look so different, then?

He rose into the air and hovered a few dozen meters up.

Below, a small bamboo grove had appeared in front of the repository. Mist coiled around the stalks, clearly part of an illusion or restricting array.

Beyond the bamboo grove, new structures surrounded the main palace. Behind it now stood a set of stone statues depicting the Eight Immortals—the companions of their sect's forefather. Each statue was vividly carved, full of life and character.

Li Tieguai rested under the shade, and the refined youth Lan Caihe carried an orchid. The graceful He Xiangu gazed into the distance, while Han Xiangzi played his flute beside Chun Yangzi.

Each stone statue seemed to have been carved following the natural grains of the original stone, giving it a natural and seamless feel. They were likely extremely expensive.

Around the Eight Immortals was a small courtyard, a few ornamental rocks arranged into an artificial landscape, and a clear pond shaped like a Tai Chi diagram. In the pond swam several koi that had traces of spirituality.

Did Master and the others really arrange this entire scene in ten days?

Moreover, the plaza in front of the palace now had a huge stone sword in the middle. It was a bit gaudy, but still quite fitting. After all, they were a sword sect known for sword arts and techniques. Placing a ten-meter stone sword in the middle of the square wasn't unusual.

Around the plaza were flowerbeds and pots of ornamental plants. Though they looked like the ones often used for city landscaping, they blended naturally with the mountain scenery.

To the west of the great palace, branches of newly planted plum trees stretched outward. With the help of arrays and the dense primal qi in the air, the branches had already sprouted tender buds.

Cultivators who grew flowers did not have to follow the laws of nature.

In time, the western side of the great palace would become a slope filled with plum blossoms, and several elegant pavilions would stand among them.

Wang Sheng swept his spiritual perception across the area. An array shielded the pavilion on the far left, which was Xi Lian's private room, to prevent anyone from prying. Still, he just knew she was playing games inside.

Beside it was the small building where Xiaomiao and Chi Wen lived. Having the two live together allowed them to look after each other and kept them from feeling too lonely. Jingyun's residence was deeper into the mountain, giving her more privacy.

There were also two extra small buildings, likely reserved for future female disciples.

Compared to the west, the east side of the main palace looked more practical.

There was an open pavilion that had eight wooden pillars supporting it and some cloth curtains hanging around it. Inside were two rows of low tables and meditation cushions for teaching. It could just as well serve as a cafeteria, though.

Behind the pavilion was a flat area of land reinforced with restricting arrays underground. A weapon rack with over ten ancient swords was in one of its corners. Considering it was built beside the cafeteria-like pavilion, new disciples were likely meant to stroll around it after their meal.

Wang Sheng smiled warmly, making his eyes narrow, as he slowly descended.

Beyond the pavilion were two rows of houses built with refined craftsmanship. Considering there were over ten rooms, they were likely meant for both male disciples and other future sect members.

Near the Daoist canon repository, his spiritual perception detected three more pavilions along the cliff. His master's aura was at the highest point, while the other two were unoccupied, likely meant for him and his senior sister.

Wang Sheng wanted to say that one pavilion would be enough, but he dared not speak too casually to his master.

Landing in front of the pavilion, he felt the gentle breeze and looked over the detailed arrangements. On one of the low tables sat brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. He walked over and saw two crooked lines of words written on the paper in clumsy calligraphy.

Currently, only a few people were on the mountain. Huai Jing wasn't around, either. Since there was nothing left to do, he had likely gone back to the Heavenly Dragon Temple to rest.

Qing Yanzi, Mu Wanxuan, and Jingyun all had beautiful calligraphy. Xi Lian's calligraphy, needless to say, was even more exceptional. Santong had not only taught her cultivation but also music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Her writing could not possibly look this bad.

Having been cultivating for many years, Chi Wen had adopted some of Jingyun's calm temperament. Her master wouldn't allow her to have such poor calligraphy.

Only Xiaomiao, who was still not used to writing with a brush, could possibly have such hideous handwriting. It was at least readable, though.

Wang Sheng read, "Friendships built on profit never last long. The bond between scholars does not grow brighter in warmth or fade in cold. It endures through all seasons and grows stronger through hardship."

He blinked.

Isn't this a line from one of Zhuge Liang's texts?

Xiaomiao seemed to have been reading quite a bit lately.

Feeling inspired, Wang Sheng sat down cross-legged, rolled up his sleeves, and ground the ink. After some thought, he lifted the brush to begin a new vertical line. He wrote down a famous saying that, in his opinion, contained the ultimate secret techniques of life.

Study well and make progress every day.

Satisfied, he set the brush down and admired his masterpiece.

To sit idly in an empty courtyard with nothing to do brought forth its own kind of peace.

Just then, Wang Sheng's spiritual perception sensed his senior sister slowly flying toward him. He picked up the brush again, intending to compose a hidden acrostic poem with her name, but after struggling for a while, he only managed to write her first name.

Before he could say anything, his senior sister was already right behind him. While kneeling on the cushion, she slipped her slender jade-like hands over Wang Sheng's shoulders and wrapped them lightly around his neck. She rested her soft and warm chin gently on his shoulder as she looked at the ink strokes on the paper.

When he turned his head, their eyes met, and they shared a faint smile.

The mountain breeze blew gently, lifting the hanging curtains and brushing through her smooth, dark hair. The cries of birds echoed nearby and in the distance.

Completely lost in the moment, Wang Sheng picked up the brush and began writing lines of poetry.

Qing Yanzi, who was in a loose robe, stood inside an open window in the pavilion behind the mountain. With his hands behind his back and a smile on his face, he quietly watched the scene in the open pavilion below.

His first and second disciples had finally become a couple. As their master, all he felt was complete and utter relief.

He initially wanted to match the two simply because he trusted Wang Sheng's character. After all, Mu Wanxuan was honest, easily fooled, and had little social sense. But as time passed, he gradually felt that they were truly meant for each other.

Mu Wanxuan had a strong aptitude and excellent comprehension, while Wang Sheng was hardworking and resilient. Even among the most talented cultivators of their generation, they were still the most outstanding.

If they became Daoist partners, he'd finally be able to let go of the regret that he had been carrying all these years.

Qing Yanzi yawned. After days of effort and preparation, everything was finally taking shape. Fatigue was beginning to set in, though. Fortunately, they could take their time refining the rest of the details. They could even wait until they had taken in more disciples.

Recalling what Huai Jing had said about heavenly fate, he frowned. The more he thought about it, the more his frown deepened.

This heavenly fate matter was too vague and unpredictable. If his second disciple's heavenly fate could not be concealed, it could become a source of misfortune in the future.

Some blessings required both fortune and the strength to bear them. A heavenly fate that immense could be a blessing for those with deep cultivation, but for Wang Sheng, it was currently a dangerous burden.

Even so, Qing Yanzi could not simply force his disciple to stay and cultivate on Earth just because of that. He could still clearly remember the brightness in the young man's eyes when he pointed at the stars that night. As a master, it was his duty to worry about his disciples.

Once the mountain-opening ceremony ended, he would search through ancient texts to find a way to conceal heavenly fate.

He naturally wouldn't dare destroy Wang Sheng's heavenly fate. After all, it was a rare gift. He only aimed to temporarily hide it from techniques that could examine heavenly fate. That would be enough to solve this issue.

"I wish our forefather would appear in a dream to guide us. That would make it much easier for us to get through this. Unfortunately, we don't even know if he's alive."

Qing Yanzi shook his head slowly. He yawned again, took off his robe, and lay down on the wooden bed nearby. To his dismay, he didn't even dream that night, let alone receive any guidance from the forefather.

***

The day before the ceremony, Qing Yanzi left the pavilion fully rested. He gathered the founding members of the Pure Yang Sword Faction to discuss their upcoming event. Currently, only Qing Yanzi, Mu Wanxuan, and Wang Sheng were part of their sect's main heritage. Jingyun and Chi Wen were off-heritage sect members, while Xi Lian and Xiaomiao were honorary elders.

"I plan to recruit four more off-heritage sect members, a servant, and a cook before accepting disciples," Qing Yanzi said. "Right now, hundreds of unaffiliated practitioners have gathered below the mountain gate. Today's task is to handle this matter.

"Little Sheng, Senior Xi Lian, since you two have the highest cultivation in our sword faction, you will be responsible for recruiting off-heritage sect members. Junior Sister and Little Wen, I want you to look for a servant.

"Our off-heritage sect members will receive the same benefits as our official disciples, which include a monthly supply of Spirit Stones, alchemical pills, talismans, and artifacts. They'll also have access to some off-heritage Daoist arts.

"The servant will receive half the benefit of our sect members. Their daily duties will include patrolling the mountain and joining the defenses mounted against invaders.

"If a wandering Daoist heritage with only two to three members at most wishes to join us, have them talk to me directly."

Wang Sheng nodded. Compared to other newly founded Daoist sects, the benefits that the Pure Yang Sword Faction offered were quite generous. However, they were only accepting a limited number of applicants.

Xiaomiao raised her hand. "Sect Master! What requirements do we have for the cook?"

"This goes without saying, but the food has to taste good. I'd prefer it if they're skilled in several styles of cuisine, too. The depth of their cultivation doesn't matter, but their personality and reputation are huge factors."

Mu Wanxuan immediately gave her master a thumbs-up.

"Alright." Qing Yanzi laughed. "From now on, we'll all cultivate in our sword sect. The rules will apply not only to sect members and disciples, but to us as well—

uh...

"

Their sect master froze. He then silently covered his face.

Worried, Wang Sheng asked, "Master, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine. I just seem to have... forgotten to write the sect rules."

The group exchanged glances, then quietly covered their faces.