Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 350: Chapter 189: Chaos in the Night! Fated to a Killing Tribulation

The moon hung high in the sky, casting withered shadows upon the branches.

On both sides of the long, quiet road, towering phoenix trees stood like silent sentinels, marking one of Jade Capital City’s defining traits.

”Senior brother, is Brother Fan really a disciple of Zhenwu Mountain? I’ve never heard of such a character from Zhenwu Mountain before!”

After drinking and feasting their fill, on the way back, Jifeng Pavilion chatted idly.

They had eaten at the same restaurant as Zhang Fan; although they saw him, they hadn’t worked up the nerve to say hello, since Zhang Fan was accompanied by a fair lady. To approach out of the blue would only spoil the mood.

”That’s what Jiang Hu said... As for the details, I’m not too clear. Every mountain and sect secretly cultivates disciples; it’s not always the famous ones.” Qi Ji replied.

Daoist Sects were scattered everywhere across the land; among them, the Ten Great Mountains were naturally the most renowned, and their disciples were the focus of much attention, since it concerned the lineage’s inheritance.

If a disciple of matchless talent emerged from the mountain gates, their eventual rise would bring more than just continuity of incense offerings—it could secure tremendous fortune for the Dharma Lineage.

Just like Chu Chaoran, a Living Zhenren of this generation, who once slew the greatest master of his era.

With such status and standing, just having him there made the position of Zhenwu Mountain supremely exalted, faintly overshadowing even the other nine great sects.

Precisely because of this, every sect attached great importance to their disciples, so much so that the Daoist Alliance would summarize and rate each sect’s elite disciples annually, even publishing a special edition called ”Not Wasting the New Era, Exemplary Youth of the Daoist Sect.” Among them, Zhenwu Mountain’s most famous was, of course, Xia Weisheng; Laojun Mountain’s most renowned were Qi Delong and his brother Qi Dongqiang; Zhongnan Mountain’s leading figure was An Wuyang...

”But reputation isn’t everything. Zhenwu Mountain’s Celestial Master Liu was unknown in his youth, yet suddenly made a breakthrough, overtaking all his peers.” Qi Ji shared a piece of Zhenwu Mountain’s history.

Liu Nanxu, youngest of Zhenwu Mountain’s three Celestial Masters, and together with Zhongnan Mountain’s Ye Beichen—Celestial Master Ye—was hailed as the ”Twin Celestial Masters.” However, in his youth, he never seemed outstanding, stalled at the Qi Worker rank for a full seven years—a pace slower than most Daoists.

Yet among his generation, he alone stepped into the Celestial Master Rank, counted as a foremost master of the present age, enough to mark his name in Zhenwu Mountain’s annals.

Looking at another Zhenwu Mountain master, Zhuo Kuangsheng, rumored to be Transcendent Zhenren’s junior fellow, who as a youth dazzled with talent; Transcendent Zhenren was so impressed, he took him as his disciple, treating him as his junior.

Back then, everyone thought Zhenwu Mountain was about to birth another Living Zhenren.

But who could have expected such a heaven-blessed figure would blaze across the sky like a comet, vanishing in an instant; having cultivated the Heart Demon Guide, falling into madness, until today still imprisoned in Zhenwu Mountain’s Nanxuan Palace, denied any glimpse of the light of day.

”Learning knows no seniority; whoever attains the Dao is teacher... Cultivation is a long journey—don’t belittle yourself over momentary setbacks, nor grow arrogant because you’ve surged ahead for a time...”

”Keep a calm heart.” Qi Ji spoke solemnly.

These principles had been drummed into his ears since childhood by sect elders, till he almost grew calluses listening. Now, at last, he could advise newcomers as a senior brother, in a tone of his own.

It was, indeed, a satisfying feeling.

”Your teachings are remembered, senior brother.”

Jifeng Pavilion and Mo Yun nodded obediently, especially Jifeng Pavilion. Ever since witnessing Zhang Fan’s methods, he’d truly understood what it meant that there’s always a sky beyond the sky, a man beyond the man. His former arrogance had mellowed considerably.

”Work hard at your cultivation—you two have great promise as well.”

Qi Ji spoke quietly, his gaze skipping over both, lingering a moment on Jifeng Pavilion.

Jifeng Pavilion and Mo Yun were indeed promising seedlings, especially the former, whose teachers held high hopes for him.

Qi Ji had heard that Maoshan had an old hermit, secluded for years, out of touch with worldly affairs, who’d once met Jifeng Pavilion, divined his Life Chart, pronouncing him ”Bearer of the Flame, Fated for Killing Tribulation.” Some interpreted this to mean Jifeng Pavilion’s future prospects were boundless; perhaps he would become Maoshan’s leading figure.

Such high praise inevitably aroused doubts in the upper echelons.

For though his aptitude was good, it hadn’t reached that level yet. The incense of Maoshan hardly needed him to pass it down.

What’s more, that old hermit also foretold his fate of a Killing Tribulation—to stain his hands with blood, the lives lost would be many.

Even Qi Ji questioned this. His junior may have been proud before, but his nature was pure and kind; it seemed impossible that he would ever be entangled in blood and killing.

This showed just how elusive and unreliable fate’s predictions could be.

”Senior brother, can we spend tomorrow having fun?”

Just then, Mo Yun softly asked, her voice tremulous, gazing plaintively at Qi Ji and pulling him back from his thoughts.

They’d been in Jade Capital City for more than half a month, all the while honing talismanic Daoist Skill, catching and slaying ghosts, yet still hadn’t visited the Gilded River, strolled the Confucius Temple, or seen Wuyi Lane.

”Please, senior brother...” Mo Yun pressed her palms together pitifully, begging.

”Alright, I’ll let you both relax for a day tomorrow.” Qi Ji nodded, for once setting aside his stern senior brother persona.

”Long live senior brother!” Mo Yun cried out joyfully.

The mountain was bitter, cultivation dreary—she hadn’t truly played in a long time.

”Dust to dust, earth to earth, three souls and seven spirits—without a home.”

Right then, a chilling voice echoed eerily through the deserted street.

They were startled; a single fallen leaf drifted down and landed gently on Mo Yun’s forehead.