A Pawn's Passage

The greatest flaw of a manmade Banished Immortal was that it was a dead-end path. After achieving immortality, there was nowhere else to go. However, the advantage was akin to those found in unorthodox perfected methods. In the Heavenly-Being stage, manmade Banished Immortals had tremendous advantages. Though Qi Xuansu would not claim he could definitively defeat Zhang Yuelu, in certain aspects—like physical resilience—he clearly surpassed her.

Thus, if there was danger behind the stone doors, he would be more resilient to endure it, so it was the safer choice for him to open them.

“There’s no rush,” Zhang Yuelu said, standing still. “Tian Yuan, did you notice? These four murals all point to something.”

Qi Xuansu realized it. “Since the murals mention the great uprising at the end of the Golden Horde era, that means this place likely wasn’t built in the early Golden Horde period but in its final years or even the early Wei Dynasty.”

Zhang Yuelu said, “Strictly speaking, it indicates the last time someone used this place.”

Qi Xuansu asked, “Then what is the purpose of this structure?”

“Perhaps the answer lies beyond this door,” Zhang Yuelu said, gazing at the stone doors. “Something could be sealed behind the door, like a ferocious beast or a demon. Or it could be a place of secluded cultivation, where the remains of a Daoist elder lie. If it’s the latter, then it’s just a corpse. But if it’s the former, and we recklessly break the seal, wouldn’t we be placing ourselves in grave danger?”

Qi Xuansu looked again at the first mural that depicted the Quanzhen Sect Patriarch Lin Lingsu in a magical duel. He said, “I remember this Imperial Preceptor from the Jin Dynasty didn’t ascend to the heavens, but mysteriously died. The exact timing of his death is unknown. Some say he was struck down by heaven’s wrath, others say that he fell into madness, and some say he faked his death to retreat from worldly affairs. Could it be him behind this stone door?”

Zhang Yuelu rejected the idea. “Though Sage Changchun and Lin Lingsu—also known as Master Tongzhen Daling—were both patriarchs of the Quanzhen Sect, they weren’t of the same lineage. Sage Changchun was from the Longmen lineage, and Lin Lingsu was from the Shenxiao lineage. It’s like the difference between the Cihang lineage and the Zhang family. Even if an elder in the Cihang lineage passed away, they wouldn’t go to rest in a Zhang family estate. This place was clearly built by disciples of the Changchun lineage. So why would it be Lin Lingsu’s final resting place?”

Qi Xuansu offered another theory. “Could it be that Elder Lin went mad and was suppressed here by Sage Changchun?”

Zhang Yuelu still disagreed. “It was precisely because Sage Changchun ascended and departed that the 30-year conflict between the Buddhist Sect and the Daoist Order broke out, leading to the Quanzhen Sect’s decline. If this place were a suppression site, how would you explain the murals dating from the end of the Golden Horde period?”

Qi Xuansu pondered briefly and countered, “If you could use the Purple Star Astrology to predict the future, then it shouldn’t be difficult for Immortals to glimpse scenes of what’s to come. If Sage Changchun painted these murals here to record what he foresaw, that would also make sense.”

Zhang Yuelu considered it. “That’s indeed possible. Back then, the Heavenly Preceptor once used a supreme method at the cost of three years of cultivation to glimpse a few fragments of the future at the end of the era.”

Qi Xuansu grew interested. “What does the end of the era look like?”

This was the benefit of being part of a noble family. They could learn with ease what others considered heavenly secrets.

Zhang Yuelu hesitated for a moment before answering, “The crown falls, the monarch’s dream shatters. Successors rise, and blood stains the realm. Heaven collapses, earth ruptures, and the world is told anew.”

Qi Xuansu softly repeated, ”The crown falls, the monarch’s dream shatters.”

He wondered what a world without an emperor would look like.

Zhang Yuelu returned to the main point. “Let’s suppose these murals were left by Sage Changchun as visions of the future. Then what was the purpose of constructing this underground palace? Those future scenes could’ve just been described in writing, in under 100 words, even. That would make it easier to preserve and spread. There’s clearly no need to leave murals in such a dark, hidden place.”

Qi Xuansu shook his head. “Not necessarily. Maybe Sage Changchun didn’t fully understand what he saw in the future, like the fourth mural. He saw the Yellow River and an uprising, but he didn’t know the details. It would’ve been hard to describe in writing. The murals might have simply been his way of replicating what he saw. For us in the later generations, we see the murals and immediately recall the historical records because what we know doesn’t actually come from the murals. It comes from the histories we’ve read. The murals merely serve as a prompt. Also, there’s the rule that heavenly secrets mustn’t be revealed. Isn’t it true that leaking such truths shortens one’s lifespan? Maybe that’s why he left the murals here—to avoid outsiders from discovering them.”

“The first point makes sense,” Zhang Yuelu said. “But as for the second, I can’t believe you’d fall for it. You came from the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. If all that happened was a shortened lifespan, then Immortals wouldn’t care. They wouldn’t fear lifespan loss. From what I know, revealing heavenly secrets has no real impact. But excessive divination clouds the spirit mind, and eventually, your calculations become inaccurate. So divination should be used sparingly and cautiously. Whether you share the results with others doesn’t matter.”

Qi Xuansu retorted, “In that case, the Heavenly Preceptor could’ve publicly shared what he saw.”

Zhang Yuelu countered, “Even with something as imminent and certain as the death of the Northern Dragon, both the Daoist Order and the Imperial Court chose to keep silent for fear of unsettling the people. Why would you expect the Heavenly Preceptor to reveal such a shocking, unverifiable message that could shake the very foundation of the nation?”

Qi Xuansu had no reply.

Half a year ago, he had not known about the Northern Dragon’s imminent death.

Qi Xuansu suggested, “Speaking of divination, why not use Purple Star Astrology to assess the omen? If it’s inauspicious, we turn back, report this place to the Golden Tower Council, and get them to send someone. No matter what monster or Ancient Immortal sleeps inside, the Daoist Order can surely handle it. But if the omen is good, we push the door open. Maybe we’ll get a fortuitous encounter left behind by our Daoist elders!”

Zhang Yuelu was not entirely convinced. “We didn’t come here to seek fortunes. We’re here for clues related to Qian Xiangyun’s case.”

Qi Xuansu added, “Speaking of Qian Xiangyun—if anything was truly dangerous here, she would’ve been the first to suffer. Yet she remained unharmed and even managed to escape overseas. That suggests there’s not much danger here.”

Having made up her mind, Zhang Yuelu retrieved the divination sticks from her magical receptacle and began the casting according to the formula.

The divination result was a hexagram of “No Misfortune.”

Zhang Yuelu softly recited, “Six in the third place. He who knows no limitation will have cause to lament. No misfortune.”

Qi Xuansu asked, ”What does it mean?”

Zhang Yuelu explained, “It refers to someone who should have been restrained but wasn’t, leading to regret after the fact. But ultimately, there’s no disaster.”

Qi Xuansu skipped over the whole regret part and distilled it into two words: no disaster.

For a Jianghu veteran like him, anything over 50% was good enough. No disaster was practically a green light!

Zhang Yuelu was not timid either. Seeing that Qi Xuansu had made up his mind, she stepped aside. But she still turned her Amorphous Paper into a suit of paper armor and placed it on Qi Xuansu. This semi-immortal object could be used for both offense and defense. Its flaw was that it was not specialized in anything, but its strength was that it could handle everything reasonably well.

Then Zhang Yuelu took up a guard position, ready for any sudden developments.

Qi Xuansu stepped to the stone doors, pressed both palms against them, and exerted a sudden force. In that instant, the veins in his arms bulged beneath his sleeves, and his blood surged through his body several times faster than usual. However, it was not enough. The door would not budge.

Next, Qi Xuansu’s arms fully entered the Golden Body state, and he infused them with a tremendous flow of innate qi. Eventually, the body spirits in his acupoints lit up one by one. He was going all out with everything he had.

Technically, Diviners had talismans and spells that could temporarily boost strength, but Qi Xuansu did not know them, so that was out of the equation. Even so, what he had was enough. The stone door finally let out a thunderous rumble and slowly began to open, but just a sliver.

Qi Xuansu peered through the gap and saw an alchemy chamber. The first thing he spotted was a massive three-legged alchemy furnace.

Zhang Yuelu leaned in as well, peering inside.

Qi Xuansu rested his chin on the top of her head. “Not to underestimate Qian Xiangyun, but how on earth did she open this door? Could there be another way in?”

Zhang Yuelu did not mind Qi Xuansu’s closeness. She simply said, “Most likely. Keep pushing.”

Once she confirmed there was no danger, Zhang Yuelu stopped standing guard and activated her true essence to help Qi Xuansu push the door.

When it came to brute force, Banished Immortals were still slightly inferior to Martial Arts Practitioners—or rather, all other lineages were.

Qi Xuansu also continued to exert his full strength.

After a short while, the two stone doors finally opened just wide enough for one person to pass through.

Qi Xuansu withdrew his hands. Still maintaining four layers of protection with his Green Netherworld Armor, Amorphous Paper Armor, Golden Body, and body spirits, he was the first to step through the threshold.

Zhang Yuelu summoned her Taiyi Cloud Robe and combined it with her Five Elements Qi Shield before following closely behind Qi Xuansu.

The alchemy chamber was spotless. Since it was built for refining pills, no wood was used. Aside from various bricks and stones, the rest of the structure was entirely cast from brass, giving it a resplendent and golden appearance.

The domed ceiling resembled a chessboard, with a large luminous pearl embedded in every square. At a glance, there were at least several hundred of them, glittering like stars in the night sky. Their sheer number created a thin veil of light mist. However, the glow from these pearls was cold, like moonlight. There were so many that they brought a chill to the air.

Behind the alchemy furnace was a Daoist in an Eight Trigrams robe, sitting cross-legged on a meditation throne, facing the furnace, utterly still.

Judging by his appearance, the man looked to be around 40. He was elegant and refined, with sharp features and three strands of long beard. He exuded an ethereal vibe and was so lifelike he could be mistaken for a practicing master in deep meditation.

A faint mist swirled slowly around him, like ethereal clouds or eerie ghostly fog.

Neither Zhang Yuelu nor Qi Xuansu could sense the slightest aura from him. Qi Xuansu pulled out the special compass given by Madam Qi, used to detect the Xuan Jade or any anomalies. The needle did not spin wildly or quiver in the slightest, indicating nothing unusual.

Qi Xuansu said, “This Daoist has no trace of corpse qi, so he probably hasn’t undergone corpse transformation. It seems to be merely a mortal shell left behind by an elder.”