Chapter 85: Extraordinary

Old Huang Mountain and Monk Mountain’s Medicine Cottage are known as the two great wellness centers of the present age. Compared to the Medicine Cottage, which is shrouded in smoke and fragrant with herbs throughout the year, Old Huang Mountain seems much more ordinary. Whether it was its seven peaks or its mere few hundred disciples, everything appeared exceedingly mediocre. No wonder people say Old Huang Mountain has grown old.

Disciples came and went, some hurriedly, others strolling leisurely. Even for Wu Yue, who ought to be treated as an honored guest, there was no excessive courtesy. At most, there was a calm greeting, an exchange of names, and upon learning Wu Yue sought the sect leader, offers to help that were declined and quickly forgotten. Directions were pointed out simply, and life went on as usual.

This sense of ordinariness made Wu Yue feel at ease. No wonder they say Old Huang Mountain is aged—three hundred years of such talk, yet it remains unchanged. Occasionally, an immortal appears, gathering countless moral accolades in the human world. Interestingly, though people claim Old Huang Mountain is fading, no one ever speaks ill of it. Old Huang Mountain has truly achieved the rare feat of having a forest that, although not full of only good birds, is free from evil. Wu Yue grasped the sect’s core philosophy almost instantly.

Yet, there was an exception—a girl of eleven or twelve, just entering her maiden years. She wore beautiful clothes, starkly different from the common Taoist robes around her. She saw Wu Yue, glared fiercely, snorted heavily, turned away, and refused to engage him.

Wu Yue rubbed his nose, a little helpless but not annoyed. When he found Yu Dangran, the living immortal, he was brewing tea. Wu Yue knew little of tea ceremonies, but watching the sect leader’s fluid movements, he could tell this elder was a master of the art.

The teacup and teapot were exquisite celadon ceramics, rare treasures even in bustling cities. The tea, called Snow Mountain, was even more precious than the fine utensils.

A cup was placed before Wu Yue. The fragrance curled upward, and the mist carried a hint of chill—this was Snow Mountain tea. The leaves settled at the bottom, and the water shimmered clear and bright.

“Thank you, Sect Leader Yu,” Wu Yue bowed in gratitude. Though he didn’t know what means Yu Dangran had used, it was certainly not simple. Nor did he know the sect leader’s intentions, but it was only right to express thanks.

Yu Dangran did not assume any airs or false humility, merely nodded and said, “Just doing my part.”

The two drank tea in silence until the cups were empty. Only then did Yu Dangran reach out, like an ordinary doctor, and carefully check Wu Yue’s pulse before speaking. “You’re fine now. But from here on, you’re an ordinary person. If you wish to cultivate again, you’ll have to start from scratch—and your aptitude will inevitably decline somewhat.”

To start anew: gathering energy, building the foundation, forming the core, merging the spirit, transcending the mundane—all such a long and distant road. An ordinary person would simply give up and live as a mortal.

But not Wu Yue. Even if left with nothing, he would resolutely begin again. Wu Yue smiled, “Surviving is enough. Yes.”

“Sect Leader Yu, do you know where Hong Xiu has gone?” Wu Yue asked, even he felt the question was odd, unsure why he voiced it. He instinctively watched Yu Dangran, not missing a single expression.

Yet the sect leader showed nothing, responding calmly, “I don’t know. He probably went wherever he wished.” Wu Yue quietly sighed in relief.

Night fell. Wu Yue sat by the window, where a crabapple tree stood outside. Even in full bloom, it exuded a chilly sense of solitude. Wu Yue glanced at it several times, feeling it out of place, and strangely familiar, coldly so.

He looked at the sky—clouded and starless, he had to abandon Li Qing’s summoning technique for now. This technique, free of thresholds, required only ample star power, but Wu Yue could rely on nothing but the heavens.

There was another spell. Wu Yue inhaled deeply.

Soul Array! First Soul—Chang’an! Suddenly, a dark shadow appeared, its features obscure, but its presence overwhelming!

After three breaths, the shadow dove into Wu Yue’s eyes. Wu Yue was drenched in sweat, exhausted.

Bang! The wooden door burst open, Plainfield entered reeking of wine, but with murderous intent. “What happened? I just sensed a strong presence!”

Wu Yue shook his head, saying nothing. Plainfield relaxed, asking no further questions.

“Wu Yue.”

People are always sensitive to their own names; Wu Yue felt someone was calling him. “Did someone call me?”

“No, I didn’t hear anything. Must be your imagination. I’m a cultivator and I heard nothing—how could you?” Plainfield said carelessly.

“Wu—”

“No, someone really is calling me.” Wu Yue scanned the surroundings; when he saw the Taishan Hall, his eyes lit up.

He hurried over, asking, “Qing Yuzhi?”

Inside the Taishan Hall, Qing Yuzhi jumped up, casting aside all reservations, all schemes, leaving only sincerity. He shouted loudly, “It’s me!”

“You’re not dead?” Wu Yue’s concern somehow sounded harsh to Qing Yuzhi.

“Haha, I’m fine,” Qing Yuzhi gritted his teeth, trying to remain calm.

“That’s good,” Wu Yue replied.

Then silence returned. Qing Yuzhi grew frantic, “No, I’m not fine!” He feared neither seclusion nor loneliness, only endless boredom.

At this moment, Plainfield looked stunned, “Qing Yuzhi is really inside?”

Wu Yue nodded, confirming.

“Why aren’t you speaking?”

Wu Yue thought for a moment and realized that only he could hear Qing Yuzhi, and only when he addressed the Taishan Hall could Qing Yuzhi hear him.

“I’m here, I’m here.”

“I’m willing to give you the Nine Aperture Lotus Heart, and the Innate Purple Qi Manual can be discussed as well—let’s call it a gesture of goodwill.” Qing Yuzhi felt stifled, but forced himself to sound cheerful.

“There’s no need. My injuries are healed.”

“That’s wonderful. Then perhaps you could let me out? After all, we have no real enmity.”

“Senior Qing Yuzhi is right, but…” Wu Yue hesitated.

“Haha.” Qing Yuzhi smiled lightly, “No need to worry, young friend. Though trapped here, I’ve not been without gains. Calamity is also opportunity, as they say. Rest assured—I won’t seek revenge. If it eases your mind, I can swear an oath.” He was smiling, but inside he wanted to cry—how dutifully he played the enemy.

“That’s settled, then. That relieves my guilt. Actually, I can’t control this treasure now. If Senior Qing Yuzhi has benefited, that’s enough.”

“What!” Qing Yuzhi’s voice suddenly erupted.

“Haha, you’re joking, young friend.” Qing Yuzhi continued to laugh, “You’re still wary?”

“No, I’m serious. My skills are gone; I’m as ordinary as any mortal now.”

Silence. Deathly stillness.

“What did Qing Yuzhi say?” Plainfield asked.

“He’s stopped talking,” Wu Yue replied, puzzled.

“Wu Yue, you thief! I swear I’ll tear you apart!” Qing Yuzhi’s furious roar thundered forth.

Wu Yue was dumbfounded—where had that kindly elder gone? Was it all just an illusion?