Twelve years of spring and autumn had passed in the blink of an eye. The mountains and rivers once ravaged by demonic energy had long since recovered their vitality. In the depths of autumn, scarlet maple leaves blazed on every hillside — a sight of breathtaking beauty that held all who beheld it entranced.

It happened to coincide with a full sixty-year cycle of rebirth, and also with the Double Ninth Festival of the ninth day of the ninth month. The Taiping Daoist Temple, situated beside Wu Jing, had been commissioned by the current Emperor of Da Qian to commemorate the heroes who had given their lives in the battle to slay the demon. Its congregation was vast and its incense offerings flourishing.

And this year was the first cycle of rebirth since the battle to slay the demon. Three months ago, word had spread that today an immortal would come to this place to lecture on the scriptures and transmit the Dao — preparations had begun long in advance. Thus, this gathering was both a memorial to the fallen heroes of the battle against the demon, and a grand and magnificent celebration of the peace and prosperity of the mortal world.

And so, in the weeks leading up to today, the area around the Taiping Daoist Temple had been extraordinarily lively. By today — the Double Ninth Festival itself — it reached its very peak. Fortunately, preparations and notices had been made well in advance. Though the crowds were vast, soldiers and city guards maintained order, and the common people voluntarily abided by the rules, so no great chaos broke out.

Before daylight had even come, the foot of Taiping Mountain was already a scene of clamorous noise and bustle. Along every official road leading to the Taiping Daoist Temple, horses and carriages clogged the way. Those too anxious to wait had long since abandoned their vehicles and walked among the common people, helping the elderly and carrying the young as they went on foot. Further out still, yet more people in a variety of attire rode carriages, all streaming toward the same destination.

The mountain forests flanking the road were lush and verdant, red maple trees ablaze. Once one entered the official road at the foot of the Taiping Temple mountain, stone-carved auspicious beasts stood in pairs every hundred steps, and lanterns with wind chimes hanging from their eaves clinked and rang in the light morning breeze.

By the time full daylight came, the sky was cloudless — deep blue and clear as water — lending a few additional notes of joy and festivity to the gathering.

At the square at the foot of the Taiping Mountain, the crowd was already a sea of people. Street vendors hawked their sugar figurines, sugar-roasted chestnuts, and sundry goods. Tea stalls breathed curling steam, and sweet drink vendors laid out all manner of beverages in their stalls. The air itself seemed to carry a faint sweetness. There were also vendors shaping dough figurines, and rather than making any other likenesses, they were shaping only the figure of Qingyi Immortal Lord — and could not shape them fast enough to keep up with demand.

Lang Jiuchuan moved through the crowd, a sugar figurine in hand. She took a bite and listened to the storyteller at the roadside recounting the tale of Qingyi Immortal Lord offering herself as a sacrifice to Heaven to pray for the spiritual rain — an account that drew the audience three circles deep, dabbing at their tears, pressing their palms together and bowing in the direction of the temple’s hall to worship.

My goodness — that gave her secondhand embarrassment.

She hurriedly shook her head and moved away. Feng Ya, walking beside her, burst out laughing, then glanced at all these worshippers. If they knew that the very immortal they revered was standing no more than an arm’s length away, would they go a hundred days without bathing, wanting to preserve a little of the divine presence of the deity in their hearts?

“Father, the sun has risen — will the immortal sister really come to transmit the Dao today?” A small child rode on her father’s shoulders, pointing toward the heavens-reaching Sacrificial Platform at the top of the Taiping Temple, asking in a soft, childlike voice.

Lang Jiuchuan followed the child’s gaze. The morning sun had now fully risen, and ten thousand golden rays poured down, setting the glazed roof tiles at the top of the Taiping Daoist Temple ablaze with golden radiance. At the peak of the Sacrificial Platform, the wind chimes of the heavens-piercing pillar swayed, ringing out with a crisp, clear sound.

“She will come,” the man said with a broad smile, holding firmly to his daughter’s hands and feet. “When the immortal brings blessings down upon the world, our little Yaoyao will also receive blessings for a long and peaceful life.”

Lang Jiuchuan was right beside them. Hearing this, she reached out and gently patted the little girl’s head: “Your father is right — a long and peaceful life, little one.”

The small girl looked at her and broke into a giggling laugh. A moment later she added: “You look like the immortal sister too.”

Lang Jiuchuan smiled and walked toward the halls of the Taiping Daoist Temple.

Though there were many people all around, strangely, wherever she passed, the crowd parted of its own accord, giving way and opening a wide, clear path before her.

The main hall of the Taiping Daoist Temple enshrined the Three Pure Ones. One hall was the Hall of Heroes, where the central position was occupied by Lang Jiuchuan’s divine statue, flanked on all sides by golden likenesses of cultivators who had given their lives in the battle to slay the demon. There was also the Wangsheng Hall, which housed the spirit tablets of those who had given their lives in the battle, with eternal lamps burning before them — never extinguished.

Lang Jiuchuan stood before those spirit tablets, looking upon each and every one of the Daoist titles inscribed there, her gaze gentle, her expression at peace.

All because you gave your lives without hesitation — the warmth of the mortal world and the grandeur of this glorious age exist outside these walls. You deserve a bow from me.

She bowed slightly. With a raise of her hand and a sweep of her sleeve, the row upon row of eternal lamps before her seemed to receive a fresh pour of oil — they flickered and then burned brighter than before.

To light the bright lamps — so that the spirit may never extinguish.

This was the blessing she bestowed upon those who had passed.

Leaving the Wangsheng Hall, she entered the Hall of Heroes. In the central position was her own divine statue. Beside it stood a snow-white tiger, behind it a ghost general holding a long spear, and to the left — Feng Ya.

Lang Jiuchuan turned to look at Feng Ya. He crossed his arms and said: “I genuinely want to carve a more awe-inspiring one and swap it out.”

Jiangche said: “I look like a cat.”

“You always were a cat,” Feng Ya said coldly. Curling up in a woman’s arms — what did that qualify as? Just because you have a lot of fur?

Jiangche bared its teeth in a mock show of ferocity.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at each likeness in turn — some familiar, some no longer recognizable — and said: “It must have been quite the effort for them, to fit all the comrades who took part into this one hall.”

Not only that — the walls of the hall were painted with a series of murals depicting the story of slaying the demon in a continuous narrative. This hall would stand as a treasure of civilization, leaving for future generations something to study and a warning to heed.

It should be protected from the erosion of passing years.

Lang Jiuchuan formed hand seals, and a brilliant light condensed at her fingertips. She scattered it outward, and Feng Ya watched as those points of light seeped into the murals — making the painted figures seem more vivid and lifelike than before, as though about to step off the wall, yet without inspiring in anyone who looked upon them any sense of oppression or dread.

This layer of protective coloring would preserve them for ten thousand years without fading, for the reverence and remembrance of generations to come.

“I knew you would be here — only an immortal lord could create such a stir.” Behind her, an excited voice rang out.

Lang Jiuchuan turned around, and before her stood Xuanneng the Head Priest, Gong Tinglan, Ning Zhe, the head of the Gong Family, even Gong Qi, Kong Xu Zi, Daoist Master Zhishang, Yice, and many others. They looked at her, all of them visibly moved.

“Everyone is well — that is a great good.” She smiled with undisguised warmth and gave everyone a Daoist greeting, cupping her hands together in a bow.

Everyone bowed in return, and when they raised their heads, their eyes shimmered with moisture.

“After these years apart, the Immortal Lord has achieved the righteous fruit of cultivation, which is cause for the revival of the Daoist tradition. Truly a cause for great joy and celebration.” The head of the Gong Family shouldered his way through the group, strode forward, and said with a voice thick with emotion: “You must leave behind a few treasures for those of us who are your later generation before you ascend.”

Everyone else: ……

When it came to shamelessness, one still had to hand it to this old Daoist.

But since he had opened his mouth and saved them from having to waste their own words, every single one of them turned their eyes longingly toward Lang Jiuchuan.

Ning Zhe said with a smile: “It is thanks to your blessing that all living things in the world have gained something. There are also some malicious beings that have gained awareness and evolved. Though there are always righteous practitioners to subdue the wicked, if one encounters a great demon, it requires united strength to subdue it. The head of the Gong Family is planning ahead.”

The laws of heaven and earth were impartial. The spiritual rain Lang Jiuchuan had called down bestowed vitality on all living things in the world — the righteous and the wicked alike would benefit. In the years since, while there had been no demon, spirits, malicious entities, and demon beasts had still existed.

All living things possessed spiritual nature. If an entity that had achieved demon form lived quietly among mortals without doing harm, it would not draw the attention of Buddhist or Daoist practitioners who sought to subdue evil. But if it preyed upon the mortal world, it was rightfully to be subdued.

Lang Jiuchuan said: “Do not worry. I have come here this time — the tribulations that were mine to undergo have all been completed. Having been here, I will not leave entirely without a trace.”

“Excellent, excellent, most excellent.”

The magical instruments Lang Jiuchuan had used — besides the inscription brush that was returned to Panguan — the Dizhong and the small nine-pagoda tower she would leave to Lang Chenghui to carry on as an inheritance. The bone chime, however, she had set into the ceiling vault of the Wangsheng Hall.

“The bone chime has spiritual nature. With spiritual energy resting here, the merit, faith, and goodwill of worshippers who come to pay their respects will be further purified by the spiritual energy and will flow back into the divine statues, entering our divine souls. With spiritual energy entering the meridians, people will also feel refreshed in mind and at ease in body, their fatigue dispelled entirely. The more people who come to worship, the more faith naturally grows. If those who walk the same path as me come here to seek enlightenment, they too will find their perception greatly enhanced.”

She offered this explanation, then proceeded to re-awaken the spiritual nature of their various magical instruments.

When it came to Yice’s turn, he presented a treasure. Lang Jiuchuan smiled and asked: “You retrieved it? What of the score to settle?”

This was the supreme treasure of the Maoshan sect, which had fallen into the hands of the Feng Family. He had now reclaimed it — truly returning it to its rightful owner.

“The one who seized it is long dead. The rest — it no longer matters. Grievance answered with grievance — when does it end?” Yice said with a smile. “I have already chosen a derelict Daoist temple deep in the mountains and restored it, and I have taken on two disciples to carry on the Maoshan sect’s inheritance.”

“You will succeed,” Lang Jiuchuan said softly, resting a hand gently on his wrist.

Yice gave a start, and after a long moment, he bowed to her.

Those with clear enough eyes could see what had happened — she had clearly slipped in a little something extra for him.

Envy. And outright jealousy.

Lang Jiuchuan crafted an array of immensely powerful talismans and presented one to each of them. But the greatest demon-suppressing treasure of all was the Azure Dragon Imperial Seal, which had once been entirely devoid of spiritual energy. She re-awakened its spiritual nature and handed it to Ning Zhe.

“As long as the prosperous age endures, so too will the merit and goodwill that sustains it — and the greater that merit and goodwill, the more powerful the seal’s might. Choose a wise and capable sovereign, and the prosperous age will be preserved for generations.” Lang Jiuchuan placed the Azure Dragon Imperial Seal into his hands with great gravity.

“I will not fail your expectations.” Ning Zhe smiled and nodded.

“The auspicious moment has arrived.”

At the stroke of the si hour, nine bells rang out, their sound resounding in all directions.

From the top of the mountain to the foot, throughout the vast crowd gathered at the Taiping Daoist Temple, all fell suddenly silent. Ten thousand gazes turned as one toward the eastern horizon.

A figure in blue-green swept across the sky like a rainbow spanning the reach of time itself, cutting through the air from the direction of the rising sun. Where the rainbow-light passed, the phantom of golden lotuses flickered briefly. A clear, ethereal resonance of the Dao suffused the air.

With that figure, several other forms followed in its wake — Daoist robes billowing, as though immortals had descended into the mortal world.

“It is Qingyi Immortal Lord — she has truly come!”

“And there are other immortal masters with her!”

Cries of astonishment rose like the roaring of mountains and the surging of seas. A million worshippers bowed as one like a tide, pressing their foreheads to the ground, their eyes burning with a reverence bordering on fervent devotion.

Lang Jiuchuan alighted upon the listening stone on the Sacrificial Platform. Her previously indistinct figure became clearly visible to countless eyes. She wore a plain cyan Daoist robe, and the years had left not a single mark upon her face — she still had the look of a young woman at the age of adulthood, yet she appeared purer and more strikingly beautiful than before, with a refined and otherworldly elegance.

Those close enough to behold her eyes saw a pair of limpid, luminous pupils — their gaze warm and profound, as though she had already seen through the cycle of birth and death and had merged the Dao into the natural order of all things.

Gong Tinglan let out a quiet sigh. This world could no longer hold her.

Yet he felt no sorrow — only joy. To have a fellow Daoist practitioner among the path’s followers achieve ascension was a sign of the tradition’s revival. It was the light of the righteous path, capable of guiding the ten thousand who walked the same way forward with confidence. Even if they felt lost somewhere in the long journey of cultivation, her example would give them the resolve to hold steadfast to their Dao heart.

Lang Jiuchuan did not say much. She simply nodded slightly to the temple master presiding over the gathering, took up the Dizhong, and let the resonance of the Dao condense, flowing into the bell.

Dong.

The bell’s sound spread outward, and all living things fell still.

This would be the last time she used the Dizhong — to pay tribute to the fallen heroes and comrades of the battle to slay the demon, and to transmit the Dao.

The bell’s sound rang out magnificently, reaching the nine heavens.

The mountains and rivers suffered no harm. All the mortal world was at peace.

This glorious age — just as you and I wished!

Wisps of incense smoke rose straight into the sky. The sounds of scripture chanting filled every ear.

Lang Jiuchuan suddenly rose into the air and alighted before a naturally formed Enlightenment Stone on a half-mountainside cliff. She raised her right hand and extended two fingers together, pointing them at the stone as though they were a sword, tracing through the air in a continuous motion.

In an instant, her divine sense moved like an invisible carving blade, cutting deep into the texture of the green stone. As her fingers traced through the air, the spiritual nature of the Dao transformed into shimmering light and entered the stone — and one by one, profound Daoist symbols, scriptures bearing deep and subtle meaning, came to life upon the stone’s surface, emerging, extending, and weaving into one another.

If one looked carefully, the Daoist symbols seemed to transform into all manner of wondrous sword techniques, drawing the viewer into deep contemplation.

The head of the Gong Family and the others looked on with awe. When they could make out the symbols, scripture passages, and Daoist patterns, their hearts surged like a rising tide, and the sea of their consciousness rang out as though struck — wave after wave of spiritual insight came pouring in.

“The Dao… This is the Dao!” Daoist Master Zhishang wept with hot tears, bowing deeply to the Enlightenment Stone, his bow reaching all the way to the ground.

Lang Jiuchuan withdrew her hand and looked on as the entire Enlightenment Stone emanated a gentle yet majestic golden light from within — and only then did she step back, clasping her hands behind her, satisfied.

She engraved all the learning and understanding of her lifetime, together with the highest truths of the Heavenly Way, without reservation, into this stone — three feet deep into its surface. This Enlightenment Stone would become an inexhaustible canon of the Dao, never to sink or erode, bestowing blessings upon ten thousand generations.

This was the true treasure she was leaving behind for this world — the Dao, the good, and the righteous.

The path of Dao is long and full of obstacles — but walk it, and you will arrive.

Dong.

The bell rang nine times, resonating to the highest heavens. All the people bowed, pressing their palms together.

Immortal masters took turns mounting the Sacrificial Platform to lecture on the Dao, conveying the message that the Great Way leads toward good, and this continued until midday when ten thousand people burst into song and dance, their faces bright with smiles.

As the sun reached its zenith, at the hour of noon, something extraordinary happened.

High above in the nine heavens, the cloudless sky seemed to be parted by a great invisible hand. Countless rays of brilliant light poured downward in a cascade of radiance. A heavenly staircase, condensed from pure golden light and bearing nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety-nine steps, descended from the vault of Heaven. Then, seven-colored auspicious clouds unfurled layer upon layer like a magnificent celestial canopy, and from within the clouds, ethereal celestial music seemed to drift.

Ten million worshippers held their breath. Even cries of astonishment became lodged in their throats as they gazed in stunned wonder at the sight before them.

Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze swept over everyone present with calm serenity. Her eyes lingered for a moment on the members of her maternal family, and on the comrades and dear friends who had fought at her side — she took in the unwillingness and reverence in their eyes, and gave a slight nod.

“Go ahead. I will be right behind you.” Feng Ya waved his hand with an air of utter nonchalance — yet his gaze held within it a thread of reluctance to part.

Gong Tinglan was the same.

Lang Jiuchuan took her first step forward, ascending the heavenly staircase. With each step she climbed, the resonance of the Dao grew a fraction more complete. She heard sobs, she heard her name being called, she heard prayers and blessings. By the time she reached the midpoint of the staircase, her whole being had transformed into a pure radiance, resonating in harmony with the Heavenly Way.

She did not once look back. In the midst of ten thousand voices rising of their own accord in blessing, she climbed step by step to the very end of the heavenly staircase — to the very heart of where the seven-colored auspicious clouds blazed most brilliantly. Only then did she pause, turn her gaze back upon these magnificent rivers and mountains, this glorious and prosperous mortal world, and at last a smile spread across her lips — a smile without a trace of regret.

I was once fragile enough to be shattered by anything — but in the end, I became impervious to all.

This life holds no regrets.

Lang Jiuchuan left behind a smiling glance, and then transformed into a pure and sacred radiance of the Dao, dissolving entirely beyond the Heavenly Gate into the boundless Great Way.

Hum.

The auspicious clouds transformed into spiritual mist and drifted down in a gentle shower, nourishing all living things. Celestial music continued to linger, unwilling to disperse. A roar of jubilant cheers rose from ten thousand people.

“Hey — this glorious age, is it as you wished?”

“Mm.”

—

Epilogue.

The historical records of Da Qian document that in the twelfth year of Da Qian, on the Double Ninth Festival, which coincided with the first cycle of rebirth commemorating the memorial to the heroes of the battle to slay the demon, a Daoist practitioner of the Lang clan named Jiuchuan — bearing the Daoist title Qingyi — ascended and soared at the Sacrificial Platform of the Taiping Daoist Temple, witnessed by ten thousand people, reaching the Great Way of the Nine Heavens. She was reverently honored by the people as Qingyi Immortal Lord.

The smile the Immortal Lord left behind as she turned to look back upon the moment of her ascension, together with the warmth of mortal life and the magnificent image of a peaceful and prosperous age with the seas calm and the rivers clear — all of this was cast into an eternal legend, rarely seen in the pages of history, passed down from generation to generation.

And the Taiping Daoist Temple, by virtue of having witnessed an immortal reach the heights of Heaven, became the supreme sacred site of pilgrimage and inquiry into the Dao for all the people of the world. The Enlightenment Stone carved by Qingyi Immortal Lord endured through the changes of mountains and rivers without ever shifting by so much as an inch, and was venerated as the Nation-Protecting Stone — a place no evil would dare approach.