A Pawn's Passage

Zhang Yuelu suddenly recalled many things.

Why was that figure nowhere to be seen? Because he had already died in the Imperial Capital many years ago.

The winter of the 42nd Year of the Jiushi Era was extraordinary both for her and the Daoist Order.

At that time, she was just a rising star of the Daoist Order. On New Year’s Day of the same year, she was attacked by the Ancient Immortal Wu Luo. By midyear, she saw the outbreak of the second major Jiangnan case in Jinling Prefecture, and by year’s end, turmoil erupted again in the Imperial Capital.

Though people claimed that the Daoist Order and the Imperial Court were on equal footing, the latter could not compare to the former when it came to top-tier combat strength.

For the Daoist Order, launching a full-scale war to overthrow a dynasty was no simple matter. However, with the weakening of the Northern Dragon, planning a small-scale palace coup targeting the upper echelons of the Imperial Court was not difficult, especially targeted assassinations of high-ranking officials. This was an area where the Daoists were notably experienced.

For example, in the former Wei Dynasty, when the Western Daoist Sect under Song Zheng sought to establish their own empire, Xu Wugui personally struck down Qi Ying, the then Governor of Qinzhong, causing his body to decay. Despite having numerous experts under the Governor’s command, no one could break Xu Wugui’s curse. Ultimately, Qi Ying perished, and the Western Sect successfully founded the later Zhou Dynasty.

The Daoist Order had only ever governed directly twice—once in the present era and once tracing back to when the White Emperor honored the teachings of Huang-Lao.

But when it came to rebellion, the Daoists were seasoned veterans. From the era of the Taiping Rebellion to the Prince Ning Rebellion and the founding of the Zhou Dynasty, Confucians long dominated the court while Daoists lurked in Jianghu.

Only in the final struggle did the Daoists succeed, finally emerging from this subordinate position. Though the Great Xuan Dynasty hailed from Daoist roots, their new station caused no small amount of anxiety.

To the Imperial Court, the Daoist Order was like a sword suspended over their heads. When it would fall was not up to the Imperial Court, but the Daoists. It was an intolerable feeling, and the court was bound to seek ways to reverse the situation and take the hilt into their own hands.

That attempt happened that winter in that fateful year. At the time, the three Daoist sects were at odds, their internal strife escalating, teetering on the brink of division. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Once the Daoists caught wind of this news, they resolved to destroy the Imperial Court’s plot with thunderous force. The operation was named “Anchor the Monkey.”

Thus, Zhang Yuelu was ordered to the Imperial Capital as part of the five-member delegation of the Golden Tower Council.

The Daoist Order’s stance was one of suppression, not mere prevention. This indicated they approached it from a position of superiority. Had it been during the Daoist Order’s heyday, they might have investigated thoroughly, forcing countless people to change names, vanish, or offer their lives in repentance.

But at that time, the Daoist Order’s internal strife consumed too much energy, so they had underestimated the matter.

When the three of them arrived deep within the Wuxing Mountain as planned, they encountered Li Changge, the very rival competing with Zhang Yuelu for the position of Grand Master.

Li Changge fought one against three but ultimately lost. His long sword shattered, his cultivation dropped, and a high-ranking elder from the Li family had to rescue him.

Just as they were on the verge of a great victory, the earth qi of Wuxing Mountain erupted.

In the end, Zhang Yuelu was the only one who managed to escape.

After this incident, Yao Pei was dead, and Li Changge was crippled. Who could still challenge Zhang Yuelu? Not to mention, she also bore the great merit of successfully completing the mission.

Soon after the incident, Zhang Yuelu was exceptionally promoted to the second rank, becoming the youngest Sage of the Daoist Order. She was then appointed as the Second Deputy of the Wuzhou Daoist Mansion.

Five years later, she returned to Jade Capital to serve as the Second Deputy Hall Master of Beichen Hall and, successively, as the Chief Deputy Palace Master of the Chongyang Palace of Immortality and the Chief Deputy Hall Master of Huasheng Hall.

Another ten years later, she became the youngest Omniscient Sage of the Daoist Order, inheriting the mantle of generations of Sage Cihang and taking command of the Jiangnan Daoist Mansion.

This became her “blessed land,” as the two major Jiangnan cases had elevated her rank twice. Now, it served as her final stepping stone to ascend to the summit.

In the blink of an eye, she was 40 years old, returning once again to Jade Capital to become the Tiangang Hall Master, fulfilling her original aspiration.

During her tenure, conflicts between the Daoist Order and the Buddhist Sect reignited, leading to over a decade of warfare. Throughout this, she climbed ever higher. After the war, she became the Ziwei Hall Master and concurrently the Chief Omniscient Sage of the Golden Tower Council.

Looking around, she had no equal. Thus, at the age of 56, she was naturally elected as the eighth-generation Grand Master.

Over 30 years of ups and downs had transformed her. She was no longer the girl she once was. Many past events had been buried deep in her heart, but as she ascended to the Grand Master’s seat, the memories surged forth, crashing over her.

That person who once told her to let go when the time came ultimately could not stand beside her, nor let her walk beside him.

A surge of immense guilt and sorrow struck her, leaving her unable to control herself.

The bronze cauldron still hung high in the night sky, its reddish-blue incense tip flickering as purple smoke continued to disperse.

The incense stick, thick as a pillar, had already burned halfway through, indicating that a little more than an hour had passed.

Zhang Yuelu had sunk deep into a Delusional Realm.

Xuanji did not rely on sheer cultivation to force Zhang Yuelu into an inescapable immersion, as that would amount to cheating. Afterward, Zhang Yuelu could simply deny the loss. The Heavenly Preceptor would also have grounds to object. So she crafted this Delusional Realm with great subtlety, precisely exploiting Zhang Yuelu’s own desires and obsessions.

Zhang Yuelu was no saint. She, too, had desires and attachments. Her greatest obsession now was reforming the Daoist Order, sweeping away corruption. Yet, the prerequisite for achieving that was to become the Grand Master. In a sense, the two were one and the same. Her obsession with reform could be summed up as the ambition to become the Grand Master.

In the Delusional Realm, Xuanji cleared all obstacles for Zhang Yuelu. Yao Pei was dead, Li Changge was crippled, and she smoothly became Grand Master without a hitch. She had over 40 years to carry out her ambitions, as this was only just the beginning. Would she be willing to wake up?

Although Buddhism lacked a cosmic worldview, its insights into the self were remarkably profound. Otherwise, it could not stand alongside Daoism and Confucianism as one of the Three Religions.

The eight consciousnesses were a fundamental Buddhist doctrine. The first six were the eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, and mental consciousness. The seventh was the manas consciousness. The eighth was the storehouse consciousness.

The seventh manas consciousness was characterized by self-centered deliberation. It took the deeper, eighth consciousness, known as the storehouse consciousness, as its object and mistakenly treated it as “me” or “mine.” Unlike the sixth consciousness, which merely observed and processed information, manas consciousness always judged everything through a self-centered lens. Due to this, it was closely linked with delusion, pride, attachment, and false views of the self.

This deep-rooted self-clinging gave rise to the three poisons—greed, hatred, and ignorance. It also drove the actions of body, speech, and mind. As long as one remained attached to this false sense of self, manas consciousness perpetuated suffering and negative karma. But when one recognized its delusion and let go of self-centered thinking, manas consciousness could be transformed. It then served as a turning point on the path to awakening, allowing the practitioner to realize the emptiness of self and all phenomena.

Westerners had similar concepts, referring to it as the subconscious. Today, under Western influence, many within the Daoist Order were familiar with this idea.

The Delusional Realm was built upon obsession. Zhang Yuelu herself certainly wished to wake up, but would her manas consciousness or subconscious be willing to awaken?

The illusion might not actually fulfill one’s desires, but the resulting joy, satisfaction, and mental ease would feel real. Was that not a form of self-interest? It was not only tangible gold and silver that counted as gain. How many men and women risked everything for a single night of passion? Moreover, the immense joy of achieving a long-held wish far surpassed mere romantic or physical pleasures.

Even if one could awaken from this Delusional Realm, it was not something that could be accomplished in just an hour. It might take days, months, or even years, depending on the person.

Of course, since this was a game and not a contest of sheer cultivation strength, Xuanji would not pose an unsolvable problem. So she left a flaw within the illusion and provided a second clue. “Pity the bones by the banks of the Wuding River; still they live on in the dreams of their lovers in spring boudoirs.”

Now that Zhang Yuelu was the Grand Master, would she still remember the one who was buried beneath Wuxing Mountain?

If she remembered, she could naturally pierce through the illusion in a short time.

But if she no longer remembered, or if that memory was not important enough compared to the Grand Master’s seat that embodied her ego, then she could not blame Xuanji for not giving her a chance. In fact, such a cold, detached person would be perfect for the Ziguang Society.

It was like a Western balance scale. On one side were the bleached bones beneath the mountain; on the other was the lofty seat of the Grand Master in the Zixiao Palace. Which weighed more?

The key to this game was not solving the riddle, but the passage of time.

Even if Zhang Yuelu awakened from the illusion, conquered her ego, and attained complete realization, she would still lose if the incense stick burned out. By then, she would have to abide by the agreement.

If she forcibly broke the agreement, she would then have to pay the price because the contract had long been sealed.

So many women secretly worshipped the Ziguang Society because True Lord Ziguang truly fulfilled their wishes—a smile like spring to bewitch all beings and every prayer answered. Nothing was impossible.

When the time came, repayment would be demanded. The contract served as proof, and the stars as witnesses.

This was the true nature of the exchange. They all had a price quietly marked into their fates long ago.

The Ziguang Society was not merely an oversized female cult. It was far more terrifying.

The followers of the Lingshan Witch Cult could enter Wu Luo’s divine kingdom in their dreams, gaining the use of the Zhuyou spell that allowed them to hypnotize and command others. However, they themselves fell under Wu Luo’s control and became a part of her. Thus, it was impossible to eradicate or defend against. The Cult of Fates commanded corpses to besiege cities and towns, turning them into ghostly realms and building one Ghost Kingdom after another. For the Ziguang Society to stand alongside these two dangerous cults, how could it possibly rely only on minor tricks?