Lin Zhao frowned, the hilt of the Li Quan sword behind him humming, as if it could no longer stand the impudence of these two third-realm sword cultivators and wanted to draw itself to teach them a lesson. How dare they speak to a ninth-realm sword cultivator like that!
However, Lin Zhao suppressed his anger, smiled faintly, and said, "So you won't let us go up? Han Wangshu is also just a ninth-realm sword cultivator, how powerful can a few lingering sword intents be? You sword cultivators of the Hundred Flowers Realm are truly amusing. If you like to observe so much, I'll even give you a sword strike. Remember to kneel and observe from now on!"
Saying this, Lin Zhao raised his hand, drew Li Quan, and swept out a sword towards a nearby mountain wall. Instantly, a clang echoed. This sword strike was rich with sword intent, leaving a two-meter-long, inch-deep sword mark on a stone wall. Within it, there seemed to be some sword intent, naturally, these sword intents were primarily from the strike that severed a celestial being.
"Tch!"
A third-realm sword cultivator couldn't help but laugh, "Friend, is the sword intent of a lower fifth-realm sword cultivator worth observing?"
As a player, Lin Zhao's sword intent was suppressed. The lower the opponent's cultivation, the lower they would perceive Lin Zhao's cultivation to be. Thus, in Qin Fei's eyes, Lin Zhao was a sixth-realm sword cultivator. In the eyes of these two third-realm sword cultivators, Lin Zhao was perhaps only a first or second-realm sword cultivator who had just begun, not worth mentioning at all.
"Let's go."
Lin Zhao smiled, "If they don't let us see, then we won't."
In fact, Lin Zhao could have easily killed his way up the mountain, but it seemed unnecessary. Fighting impulsively had never been his nature. On the contrary, Lin Zhao was more steady and composed, excelling at planning before acting. If he had truly drawn his sword and attacked simply because they blocked his path up the mountain, Lin Zhao would not have been able to orchestrate the situation at Xueyu Tianchi a hundred years ago.
In Lin Zhao's heart, drawing a sword at the slightest disagreement was a mark of inferiority.
On the way down the mountain, Lin Zhao, with Chen Changsheng, looked at the moonlight that filled the mountainside. In the distance, pine trees swayed, and inscriptions of scholars and literati appeared on the rock walls. Lin Zhao suddenly felt inspired and said with a smile, "We can't reach the summit, but traveling along the mountainside can still be a pleasure. Changsheng, let's go!"
Chen Changsheng smiled and nodded, "Alright, Immortal Master Lin!"
The two walked one after another along the plank road on the mountainside.
On the rock walls were lines of poems left by scholars and literati of ancient and modern times. However, the Hundred Flowers Realm was isolated from the mortal world where Lin Zhao resided, so he had never heard of the names of the famous scholars in the Hundred Flowers Realm, nor did he know who was more renowned. He merely read through the lines of poetry, feeling that each could be savored.
Chen Changsheng, being illiterate, simply held the torch and followed, completely bewildered.
Not long after, Lin Zhao pointed to a recess in the mountainside and said, "We'll spend the night here tonight. Changsheng, start a fire, and we'll set up the pot to cook something."
"Yes, Immortal Master!"
Chen Changsheng started the fire, while Lin Zhao took out his wilderness survival three-piece set from his pack. Using the iron pot to fetch water from the stream, he then rode his flying sword Hong Ye along the mountainside. With a wave of his hand, he unleashed a sword light, felling a wild pheasant. He skillfully plucked, gutted, and washed it, then brought it back to cook chicken soup. He also took out a few flatbreads to roast together.
After eating, Chen Changsheng slept in his clothes.
Lin Zhao, however, looked at the moonlight all over the ground, feeling no hint of sleepiness. He turned to look at the sleeping youth, summoned his flying sword Hao Ran, and drew a circle around Chen Changsheng, as if creating a barrier. Thin wisps of sword intent surged within the circle. Whether it could defend against cultivators on the mountain was unknown, but it would certainly be enough to ward off wild beasts.
After completing this, Lin Zhao walked forward alone. Soon, he saw a very dilapidated Mountain God shrine on the slope ahead. It was broken and decrepit, with only a small gap not enough for one person to turn around. The statue inside had long since faded, covered in moss. However, Lin Zhao could tell that it still received some incense.
He did not enter the Mountain Lord shrine, but simply cupped his fists in a respectful salute outside.
"Swish!"
A faint golden figure emerged from the shrine, transforming into a middle-aged man with a sword on his back, radiating righteousness and a handsome countenance. Judging by his aura, he was a ninth-realm sword cultivator.
Lin Zhao's heart stirred, and he asked, "Could the Mountain Lord be the legendary Sword Saint Han Wangshu?"
"Indeed."
Han Wangshu cupped his fists respectfully, "As a local deity of mountains and waters, I did not personally greet you upon your arrival. Please forgive me, honored guest."
"My name is Lin Zhao."
"Good, fellow Daoist Lin."
Han Wangshu looked at the two swords behind Lin Zhao and sensed the distinct aura of this ninth-realm sword cultivator. He frowned, "Fellow Daoist Lin... is likely not from the ancient Shu region, is he?"
"Not only am I not from the ancient Shu region, but I am not even from this realm," Lin Zhao said with a smile.
Han Wangshu immediately smiled lightly, "You speak your mind plainly. I admire that, fellow Daoist Lin!"
"May I invite the Mountain Lord for a drink?"
"Certainly."
The two came to the edge of a cliff not far from the Mountain God shrine. Lin Zhao leaped onto a large rock, while Han Wangshu stood by the cliff's edge, looking extremely ethereal. Lin Zhao took out a pot of Qingzhu wine and tossed it to Han Wangshu, then took out a pot for himself. There were no accompanying snacks due to the rudimentary conditions, so they simply drank straight.
"Lin Zhao."
Han Wangshu looked into the distance and said, "What do you think of this Hundred Flowers Realm?"
"It's alright."
Lin Zhao smiled, "As I've traveled, I've seen those with kind hearts and those with wicked ones."
Han Wangshu smiled, having already concluded that Lin Zhao truly did not belong to the Hundred Flowers Realm, but was a legendary "banished immortal" from the heavens. In the Hundred Flowers Realm, true immortals were of two kinds. One was the trio who ascended to the Ascension Terrace every ten years; those three would ascend and leave the Hundred Flowers Realm, thus being immortals. The other kind were those who descended to the Hundred Flowers Realm from the heavens, the legendary banished immortals.
The sword cultivator before him, though suppressing his cultivation, exuded an extraordinary aura. To be obstructed by a group of lower fifth-realm cultivators on the mountaintop and yet walk down with a smile was truly rare. In Han Wangshu's opinion, this was not because Lin Zhao was weak and easily bullied. On the contrary, it was more likely because Lin Zhao felt those sword cultivators were not worth his effort, and there was no need to bother. As for being verbally insulted, that was even less worth mentioning.
Which of those who reached the ultimate realms had not been slandered and cursed by thousands behind their backs?
...
"How should we rectify the situation?" Han Wangshu suddenly said.
"Start from the source."
Lin Zhao tilted his head back and took a gulp of wine, then smiled, "Take the Feiyun Sect, for example, a sect on the mountain. Why do they dare to kill people wantonly, dare to raise demonic beasts as spirit beasts on the mountain, and even feed them human flesh and blood? With just the Feiyun Sect alone, I don't think they could cover the sky with one hand. The real reason lies higher up. I've only been here a short while, so please, Mountain Lord, enlighten me, where is the source?"
"It lies in the machinations of the imperial court."
Han Wangshu, being a straightforward person who wasn't afraid to speak the truth, smiled, "Zhao Qian, the Imperial Advisor of the Xu Dynasty, also holds the position of Prime Minister, wielding the greatest power of life and death in the land. Which of the top sects on the mountains that you see does not have a connection with Zhao Qian? It is precisely because of Zhao Qian's indulgence that these mountain cultivators dare to pursue the Great Dao without regard for right or wrong."
"Zhao Qian..."
Lin Zhao frowned, "I'll remember this name."
He then looked at the resolute-faced Mountain Lord and said, "I still have a question in my heart, which I hope the Mountain Lord can answer."
"Please, speak."
"In the travelogues and records of mountains and waters that I have read, the account of the Mountain Lord is that Sword Saint Han Wangshu defeated numerous strong enemies on the Ascension Terrace, winning first place that year, and then ascended with his sword. Why is it that in reality, you not only did not ascend with your sword but instead died, and are now serving as this inconspicuous Mountain God?"
"..."
Han Wangshu's sword-like eyebrows furrowed, "Do you truly wish to hear, fellow Daoist?"
"Tell me."
"Mmm."
Han Wangshu took a large gulp of wine. It seemed he had no one to confide in for many years, and his voice was filled with deep melancholy. "The Ascension Terrace was a trap from the beginning, and it was a trap set by the Imperial Advisor Zhao Qian. That year, I defeated all my opponents, filled with youthful ambition. But at the moment of ascension, I discovered that ascension was death. At the end of the Ascension Terrace was a killing formation set up by the Imperial Advisor. That year, after struggling with all my might, I managed to preserve a wisp of my soul, and was finally bestowed the title of this pitiful Mountain God by heaven and earth."
"What is the meaning of Zhao Qian using the Ascension Terrace as a trap to kill those who ascend?" Lin Zhao asked.
"Qi Luck Reversal."
Han Wangshu said, "The Xu Dynasty seeks to unify the entire Hundred Flowers Realm. Therefore, Zhao Qian has long considered the Qi Luck of heaven and earth to be solely for the Xu Dynasty. This world is rich in spiritual energy, and the sun, moon, and stars nourish all living beings. The more life there is, the denser the Qi Luck of the mortal realm becomes. If those who ascend all take their Qi Luck with them, although their own Great Dao may be promising, the Qi Luck of the Hundred Flowers Realm will be continuously drained. Therefore, Zhao Qian does not wish for anyone in this realm to ascend."
He sighed, "I cultivated my entire life, and ultimately, I am merely a ninth-realm Nascent Soul. This is also the limit of the Hundred Flowers Realm. Zhao Qian's plan was to see a higher realm appear in the Hundred Flowers Realm. By the time I learned of this, I could no longer distinguish between good and evil... Zhao Qian's ambitions may not be considered evil. After all, it is recorded in those martial and mountain handbooks that above the Nascent Soul realm, there is the legendary Immortal realm called the Star River realm. Furthermore, above the Star River realm, there is the realm of returning to simplicity, the Divine realm, called the True Return realm, the true ultimate realm, the eleventh realm!"
"Alas..."
Lin Zhao also sighed. The scope of the Hundred Flowers Realm was this large; it couldn't be entirely blamed on Han Wangshu.
"Mountain Lord."
Lin Zhao pondered for a moment and said, "I don't know if I am the one to break this cycle, but if there is truly an opportunity, I will try to break it. Regardless of Zhao Qian's ambitions, the evil he has committed is a tangible reality."
Han Wangshu's body trembled, and he bowed respectfully to Lin Zhao, "If that is the case, on behalf of the entire realm, Han Wangshu thanks you for your kindness!"
...
Just then, Lin Zhao looked down at the foot of the mountain and saw two figures dressed in red robes ascending, along with dozens of black-clothed assassins hidden in the darkness, totaling over a hundred people.
"They've still caught up!"
Lin Zhao frowned.
Han Wangshu also looked down the mountain, his gaze calm, "Lingering spirits, it's always like this."