As you depart for Daosheng Heaven, there’s no need to deliberately conceal your identity. Those who wish to know will find out anyway. However, you mustn’t act rashly and give others an excuse. You must wait for your uncle to return with the Vermilion Emperor’s treasure.
The stone steps felt distinctly different from elsewhere, emanating an ancient, profound spiritual energy that had settled over countless years. Upon reaching the entrance to Mount Xuankong, one couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe.
“Everyone, please follow the disciples to rest for half a day,” a voice announced. “Afterwards, an elder will escort you to the Hall of Ten Thousand Treasures to choose a suitable artifact. This is Daosheng Heaven’s gesture of goodwill for the Mountain and Sea Forbidden Decree expedition.”
While others were excited about entering the Hall of Ten Thousand Treasures, Nan Yan’s pink-colored eyes gazed longingly at the ever-turning Soul River in the sky.
Mo Xingzhen, having settled most people, turned to find Nan Yan still staring at the sky, neither leaving with the Buddhist cultivators nor chatting with others.
“Sister Zhengyuan, are you admiring the Soul River Heavenly Waterfall?” he asked.
Nan Yan refocused her gaze. “This humble nun has never seen such a beautiful sight. I was captivated. Might it be possible to view it up close?”
Mo Xingzhen smiled. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. The source of the Soul River Heavenly Waterfall is on that central floating mountain. Can you see it?”
Nan Yan followed his gesture, spotting a smaller floating mountain in the distance. Its peak was shrouded in misty rain, resembling an ink painting set against the night sky. The Soul River flowed from there.
“Is that a forbidden area?” she inquired.
“No, that’s where my master cultivates,” Mo Xingzhen replied, his eyes filled with reverence. After a moment of contemplation, he added, seemingly casually, “Tonight, my master is meeting with some senior teachers to discuss important matters. He shouldn’t return before dawn.”
With that, he turned and left.
Nan Yan felt a flicker of anticipation. As she looked back towards Mo Xingzhen, Mu Zhanting passed by, transmitting a message: “This is Daosheng Heaven. If you’re planning any mischief…”
“I know,” Nan Yan responded, struggling to contain her impatience to see her mother. “I won’t do anything before the Mountain and Sea Forbidden Decree.”
“No,” Mu Zhanting said sternly. “If you’re going to cause trouble, remember to call me. I’ve already prepared sleeping powder, snacks, and night clothes.”
Nan Yan was speechless. She realized she’d forgotten that among her siblings, her older brother was always the first to stir up trouble. She felt uneasy as she headed to her assigned quarters in Daosheng Heaven.
The caves in Daosheng Heaven were protected by layers upon layers of formations, ensuring utmost secrecy. Before Nan Yan could even refine the jade tablet she’d been given, something crashed into her courtyard. Opening the door, she found a small qiankun pouch filled with stealth-enhanced night clothes and an assortment of tools meant for breaking. A note was attached.
It read: “Full moon night, atop Daosheng Heaven, sneaking in the dark, let’s have some fun.”
Nan Yan was both exasperated and amused by her brother’s audacious style. After pacing anxiously for a while, she decided to don the night clothes. Just as she finished tying the dark face cover, there was a knock at the outer door.
Assuming it was her brother, she opened it without hesitation. “It’s almost dawn. What took you so—”
Song Zhu’s hand froze mid-knock, caught off guard by Nan Yan’s appearance.
Caught red-handed in her night clothes, Nan Yan scrambled for an excuse. “I was just trying on some clothes. Please don’t laugh, fellow Daoist.”
Song Zhu was momentarily stunned, thinking to himself, “Could she have known I was coming tonight? Did she dress up for me?”
“You look… not bad in this outfit,” he managed to say.
Nan Yan was bewildered.
Sensing the awkward atmosphere, Song Zhu attempted to salvage the situation. “The face veil suits you too.”
“What exactly do you find appealing about this outfit, Daoist Song?” Nan Yan asked, perplexed.
Song Zhu wracked his brain for appropriate compliments before blurting out, “Sun protection.”
Nan Yan glanced at the moon hanging high in the sky, feeling utterly lost for words. “Right, I’m just worried about getting tanned by the moonlight. It’s getting late, and we have to visit the Hall of Ten Thousand Treasures after dawn, so perhaps we should—”
“Ah well,” Song Zhu interrupted, “My master instructed me to deliver a letter to Xuanzai after arriving at Daosheng Heaven. I heard from Mo Xingzhen that you wanted to see the source of the Soul River Heavenly Waterfall. Would you… like to go together?”
Nan Yan’s eyes lit up. “Really? Give me a moment, Daoist Song. I’ll change right away!”
As Nan Yan hurried to change, Song Zhu silently rejoiced at his successful invitation. While they walked towards the highest floating mountain of Daosheng Heaven, surrounded by rolling clouds, Nan Yan felt a vague sense of familiarity with the scenery. However, when she tried to recall why, it seemed as if something was blocking her memories.
“Daoist Song, you seem quite familiar with Daosheng Heaven,” she observed.
Song Zhu hesitated before replying, “My master once studied here under the Dao Lord. So did the Southern Fragrant Lord.”
A flash of recognition flickered through Nan Yan’s mind, but she still couldn’t decipher it. Lowering her gaze, she said, “I know that. The Dragon Lord’s generation all received teachings from Daosheng Heaven.”
“Indeed. Everyone knows that as long as Daosheng Heaven stands, all Daos will endure,” Song Zhu affirmed.
Nan Yan nodded slightly, understanding the importance of Daosheng Heaven. Its presence had kept potential troublemakers at bay during the years when the Righteous Law Palace lacked a leader.
While most of Song Zhu’s words were vague, his next statement was a sincere warning: “Some things must be done, but now is not the time for you to act.”
Nan Yan nodded in agreement.
Within moments, they passed through the pine-shrouded gate and crossed the iron chain bridge over the sea of clouds. Approaching the highest floating mountain, they were greeted by lush greenery, white egrets soaring overhead, and fireflies dancing in the air. Strangely, the wind ceased as they neared the mountain, leaving it enshrouded in mist as if framed in a painting.
“This junior, Song Zhu, requests an audience with Xuanzai. Please grant us passage, Crane Messenger,” Song Zhu called out.
A distant crane’s cry echoed, and Nan Yan felt a surge of spiritual energy. The forest parted, revealing a stone stairway. As they ascended, Song Zhu produced a letter and handed it to a celestial crane waiting at a fork in the path.
The Crane Messenger spoke: “Please wait at the Anticipating Rain Pavilion. I’ll relay Xuanzai’s response once received.”
Cautious in unfamiliar territory, Nan Yan followed Song Zhu to a bamboo pavilion. The source of the Soul River Heavenly Waterfall lay just beyond, behind a small dwelling.
Noticing Nan Yan’s distraction, Song Zhu nervously began, “Venerable nun…”
Nan Yan, growing impatient, replied, “Yes, Daoist Song?”
“About that tea appointment at Panyin Temple… does it still stand?”
Realizing she couldn’t search for her mother with Song Zhu present, Nan Yan noticed the tea set in the pavilion. A risky idea formed in her mind. “I’ve recently improved my tea-making skills and tried a new blend. Would you like to taste it?”
Song Zhu nodded eagerly, watching Nan Yan prepare the tea. When she handed him a cup with a complex expression, he spoke thoughtfully: “Venerable nun, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you.”
“Please, go ahead,” Nan Yan encouraged.
Song Zhu hesitated, then said, “On my way here, I overheard Chu Ning from Hai State gossiping about you.”
“Oh? What did he say?”
“He said female cultivators who wear makeup lack determination, and even if they practice Buddhism, they… they won’t achieve enlightenment,” Song Zhu explained, worried about offending her. “His Dao partner rebuked him, so I didn’t intervene. I wanted to tell you not to take such comments to heart.”
Nan Yan’s usually steady Buddhist heart wavered slightly. “Do you think I wear makeup?”
Song Zhu shook his head vigorously, then declared, “Even if you did, I would still li… like…”
Before he could finish, Song Zhu fell asleep at the stone table. Nan Yan stood, tucking away a small vial she’d taken from Mu Zhanting’s package. She hadn’t been sure if it would work, but her doubts were now dispelled.
As Nan Yan headed towards the dwelling, she failed to notice Mo Xingzhen emerging from the bamboo grove. He approached the pavilion, sniffed Song Zhu’s teacup, and frowned as he recognized the potent sleeping drug. He gazed thoughtfully in the direction Nan Yan had gone.
“Master forbids anyone from entering the Soul River Heavenly Waterfall’s source,” he mused. “What’s hidden there? If this Zhengyuan, possibly the Southern Fragrant Lord’s orphan, is willing to take such a risk, what could it mean?”
Meanwhile, Mu Zhanting arrived at Nan Yan’s quarters, knocking repeatedly with no response. A patrolling Daosheng Heaven cultivator approached, asking, “Why isn’t the Imperial Son resting? What brings you here?”
Mu Zhanting replied, “Where’s my sister… I mean, Venerable Zhengyuan?”
“Half an hour ago, Brother Song Zhu from Wei State invited her out,” the patrol explained.
“What? Why would they go out in the middle of the night?” Mu Zhanting asked, bewildered.
The patrol chuckled knowingly. “Young people with passion… surely not to discuss the Dao?”
Mu Zhanting inhaled sharply, remembering the Dragon Lord’s parting words: “All sorts of creatures will be at the Mountain and Sea Forbidden Decree. She may be young, but she’s of the Southern Fragrant Lord’s bloodline. Some scoundrel might catch her scent. Mark my words: she left whole, and she’d better return whole. If anything’s missing or… added, watch out for your legs.”
Driven by self-preservation and brotherly duty, Mu Zhanting hastily scribbled a note and attached it to a fourth-grade spirit beast, a Jiaoling Soaring Bird, from his spirit beast pouch.
“Quickly, report to the Dragon Lord: Nan Yan’s been dragged off by a scoundrel who caught her scent!” he instructed before rushing off.
The Jiaoling Soaring Bird took flight, but Mu Zhanting was unaware of Daosheng Heaven’s flight restrictions. The bird slammed into the barrier and plummeted into a courtyard pond.
“Where did this foolish bird come from?” someone asked.
In the moonlit courtyard with two ponds, startled cranes took flight from the ancient flora. The speaker summoned the half-drowned bird, surprised to find a message. “Who wrote this? Why does it start with such a lament?”
“Lu Sheng, I called you here to discuss the secrets of the Mountain and Sea Forbidden Decree, not to read random nonsense,” Li Chi chided. Others sat around the table. “Now, as I was saying, the first few secret realms in the Nine Tribulation Sea aren’t significant. The final ghost tide has always required Buddhist cultivators to resist, causing heavy losses for us unorthodox cultivators. But now, we have a secret weapon to annihilate those orthodox cultivators in the Nine Tribulation Sea…”
“Brother Li, that’s quite a claim. Who could be more effective than Buddhist cultivators?” Lu Sheng scoffed, continuing to read the damp letter. Suddenly, he exclaimed, “These Buddhists are something else, going out for midnight trysts!”
A previously silent figure looked up, their hooded face deep in thought. “May I see that letter?” they asked.
Lu Sheng grinned. “Interested, friend? It’s quite juicy.”
The figure scanned the hasty scrawl, their already pale fingers tightening. They let out a soft laugh.
“I have matters to attend to. Excuse me,” they said, rising.
“It’s almost dawn. What could be so urgent?” Li Chi asked, but froze as the figure’s icy gaze met his.
“Apologies, but family matters take precedence over everything,” the figure replied, departing swiftly.