The rear mountain of Huawei Sect had no paved stone steps, only a few winding paths, with tall grass and lush trees due to the rarity of human presence.

Even in the strongest midday sun, once one entered the rear mountain, they were still tightly enclosed by towering ancient trees, like walking in a pitch-black abyss.

Sect Leader Xu Yun and Ziyun Temple’s Abbot Qing Wei were walking side by side on this sunless path.

At this moment, they bore none of the pomp of sect leaders or regional powers, with only two young cultivators following behind them.

These two walked with dignified postures and steady steps, yet their eyes contained hidden anticipation, gleaming brightly.

One wore a bluish-green ceremonial robe with intricate patterns, clearly carefully dressed; the other wore a mountain-purple Taoist robe, simple and elegant, giving the impression of being mature beyond his years.

Anyone who had seen students heading to a life-changing examination would understand the complex expressions on their faces.

At the end of the mountain path, a small building with peeling vermilion paint quietly nestled among the ancient cypress trees.

The four stopped in unison.

Qing Wei turned to the two young cultivators behind him and said indifferently: “Whether there is opportunity or not is predestined; do not force it.”

Xu Yun was slightly more severe: “If this succeeds, everyone will be happy. If it fails, you must never harbor improper thoughts or cling unwillingly. Do you two remember?”

The two lowered their eyes respectfully and agreed.

Qing Wei looked at the small building and took a deep breath: “Good, this poor Taoist will first go to pay respects…”

“Abbot Senior Brother!” A female voice interrupted him, abrupt and discourteous, yet as crisp as an oriole’s call.

A young woman in a goose-yellow blouse, beaming with smiles, came bouncing out of the small building: “Are you going to see my master?”

The young woman had round eyes and a round face, with willow-like eyebrows. Her features weren’t exquisite, but she had a special vivaciousness.

In her glances, she was like a curious young bird peeping from its nest. The quiet, solemn small building in the deep mountains instantly brightened.

The two young cultivators had been secretly frowning, thinking how a little girl who knew so little about propriety could attend to the Chess Ghost, making such a commotion—what kind of decorum was this?

However, when the young woman ran up to them and they met her gaze, not only did they feel no hostility, they couldn’t help but smile, thinking that if they had such a lively, pure, and adorable junior sister serving tea and carrying chess pieces in the future, the arduous path of immortality and the way of chess would surely be much lighter and happier.

Abbot Qing Wei smiled: “Junior Sister Li, I and Sect Leader Xu Yun have been thinking of Grand-Uncle Master and have come to visit, but we old fellows are awkward and dull, fearing to displease Grand-Uncle…”

The young woman listened to his introduction as if she had just noticed Xu Yun and the two young cultivators and greeted them.

Qing Wei continued: “These two young juniors know a bit about formations and also understand some chess. Why not let them go in and play a couple of games with Grand-Uncle to relieve his boredom? I’ve already used divination to see that they both have destiny. Zhao Lin, Yao An, come meet your Senior Sister Li.”

Of course, “know a bit” was a humble statement. Who would dare bring someone to the Chess Ghost’s presence if they weren’t one in a million talents?

Just as Zhao Lin in his bluish-green robe and Yao An in his purple Taoist robe were about to step forward, the young woman smiled and said: “You’re too kind. How can I be considered a Master’s disciple? It’s just that Master is elderly and needs someone to pour tea, carry chess pieces, serve medicine, and amuse him with conversation. I haven’t learned a fraction of Master’s true skills, so I don’t deserve to be called ‘Senior Sister.'”

Hearing her speak this way, the two, while not daring to show disrespectful attitudes, already harbored dismissive thoughts.

Unexpectedly, the young woman changed her tone: “But you two friends have come at an inconvenient time. Master is still ill, having just taken medicine, and has instructed that he’s not receiving visitors for now. My apologies!”

A clean and efficient dismissal.

Qing Wei and Xu Yun maintained their expressions, showing no disappointment, but the two young cultivators’ faces flushed red.

They feared they hadn’t performed well enough today, but never imagined they wouldn’t even get in the door.

Everyone in the cultivation world knew that the Chess Ghost had been ill for many years. When a chronically ill person uses illness as an excuse for refusal, it means they’re too lazy to find a reason.

Xu Yun, listening to the young woman’s lively voice, suddenly felt some envy.

Not envying that the Chess Ghost had been ill for so long, but envying that he dared to state it so plainly. Because he was still powerful, he wasn’t afraid of people knowing how many times a day he took medicine.

Therefore, he had “nothing to hide from others.”

Thinking of how he dared not publicize his failure to break through, only secretly sending confidants to search for the Dead Sea Lotus, Xian Jian Chen found out and sent an outer disciple to deliver a message, slapping his face.

Being “constantly cautious” was the norm for cultivators like himself—not daring to be sick, not daring to be injured, fearing powerful enemies would come, fearing unstable positions.

Abbot Qing Wei said: “We’ve intruded. We’ll take our leave now.”

Yao An stood stiffly, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Zhao Lin put on a smile he used for chatting up female cultivators: “Fairy, we…”

Qing Wei suddenly shouted sternly: “What did I say earlier?”

The two were shocked by his pressure, turning pale with fright, hastily bowing and retreating.

Xu Yun bid a loving farewell to the young woman, taking one last look at the small building shrouded in flowers and trees.

Whenever he thought he had climbed high enough, commanding Huawei and looking down upon the four seas, the shadows of these seniors would descend again, pressing down on his head.

Having been ill for so long, when would he finally die?

Where was Xian Jian Chen now, and when would he be willing to die?

The two came with heads held high but left with heads lowered.

Qing Wei consoled coldly: “Don’t be discouraged. Prepare well for the chess test at the Dengwen Elegant Assembly. With your talents and fortunes, even without this opportunity, your path to immortality will still be smooth.”

Yao An could only smile bitterly. He thought, though those words might be true, compared to inheriting that person’s mantle, all other opportunities were inferior paths.

Zhao Lin sighed: “I wonder what kind of disciple the old master truly wants to accept.”

The young woman in the goose-yellow dress, carrying a large bundle of wildflowers, skipped lightly into the small building:

“Master, I’ve sent them away!”

A black-robed old man at the table turned his head with a smile: “Well done.”

The Book Saint always seemed to have a dignified bearing, wearing spotless, immaculately white robes. But he was just the opposite, seeming perpetually half-asleep, with a gaunt figure and sickly appearance.

The young woman asked curiously: “I thought those two were quite good. Don’t you want to meet them?”

“Good how?”

The young woman replied without hesitation: “They look quite good! But as for chess, forget it, they probably couldn’t beat me.”

The old man laughed heartily. The young woman placed the armful of wildflowers on the table, and they sat facing each other making flower wreaths, the atmosphere not like master and disciple, but more like grandfather and granddaughter.

“Last night there was a rain, and this morning all the flowers on the mountain have bloomed!” the young woman said joyfully, brushing away water droplets from the petals.

The old man suddenly said: “Last night, it shouldn’t have rained.”

“What?”

The old man said: “It rained because someone was waiting.”

The young woman was puzzled: “If one’s intentions can make heaven and earth aware, that person’s cultivation must be very high?”

“Not necessarily.” The old man shook his head, about to say something when he suddenly began coughing violently, as if about to cough up his internal organs.

The young woman skillfully patted his back to help him breathe and offered medicinal tea:

“Master, I heard Fairy Miao Yan is in the bamboo sea on the rear mountain. Should we invite her to play a piece to help regulate your spiritual energy?”

The old man waved his hand: “No! Not dying, not dying!”

The young woman still looked worried.

The old man finally caught his breath, still smiling: “Little Li, the ancient sages said, ‘When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a person, it first exercises their mind with suffering and their body with hunger.’ All these years of enduring various illnesses and torments are merely accumulating blessings for the future!”

“You’re joking again. What blessing could be worth such hardship, Master?”

The Chess Ghost looked out the window.

Behind the layers of clouds, the golden brackets of the Flying Cloud Tower could be faintly seen.

“That, of course, is to outlive all the other ‘undying old men,’ accept the most satisfying disciple in the world, and take him to play chess before ‘The Romantic One’s’ tomb!”

****

At dusk, the outer disciples finished their work.

There was a constant stream of people at the entrance to Song’s courtyard, and before long, a long queue formed along the flower-lined path.

This was the fixed daily time for answering questions. Any earlier, and Senior Brother Song would still be working in the fields, not looking up. Any later, Senior Brother Meng would start cooking noodles, fiercely driving away visitors.

One bag of seeds, one question, bow after asking, leave immediately. No one failed to cherish this short time, nor did anyone dare waste others’ time.

No clamoring, no cutting in line. Though these rules were not publicly posted, they were tacitly observed as iron laws by the disciples.

Only today there was an incident.

A shabbily dressed, unfamiliar cultivator had mixed into the queue. Suspected of having ill intentions toward Senior Brother Song due to his suspicious appearance, he almost got beaten.

The man hurriedly proved his identity: “Friends, don’t strike! I’m a cultivator from the Kongwu Sect of Three Mountains Island overseas. I’m also here for the Dengwen Elegant Assembly. My invitation is here, look!”

He kept pulling things out of his storage bag—island maps, ship tickets, sect emblem tablets, and various odds and ends.

Zhou Xiao Yun only took the invitation and glanced through it, confirming it was genuine, then ordered everyone to stop. She asked puzzled: “Friend, the guest halls are all up in the inner sect mountain. This is the outer sect. What are you doing here?”

The man still covered his head defensively, cowering: “I heard that here, by giving a bag of seeds and finding a Senior Brother surnamed Song, one can have treasures appraised and questions answered?”

“Senior Brother Song’s question time is limited. Whatever your business, you should return to your sect and ask your seniors!” someone urged impatiently, trying to make him leave quickly.

Some disciples laughed, thinking where did this small sect’s poor cultivator come from, faring even worse than their outer disciples.

Unexpectedly, the man suddenly beat his chest and stamped his feet, wailing: “I can’t ask them! Our entire sect, only I came!”

“What? Where are the others?”

Everyone was bewildered, not understanding why he was so agitated.

“Met a tide of sea beasts, all died in the sea!” The man covered his face with his sleeve and actually sobbed, “Our entire sect, including the alchemy attendants, had only ten people in total.”

Halfway through his story, he unconsciously slipped into his native accent: “Master said he didn’t expect us to bring glory to our ancestors, just to see the great world once and return safely! If we had known about today, we shouldn’t have set out to sea. I, Wang Tu Gen, have such a bitter fate. The Dao Ancestor is merciless…”

The young outer disciples were at a loss. The crying seemed to have a strange infectious power; somehow, listening to it stirred up feelings of shared misery and bitterness.

Zhou Xiao Yun handed him a handkerchief: “Friend, stop crying and catch your breath. What are you looking for Senior Brother Song for now?”

Wang Tu Gen wiped his face messily, eyes full of hope: “Our sect has a treasure passed down from our founding master. Master didn’t know what it was either. I just want to ask Senior Brother Song to appraise its value. As long as I can gather enough for return passage, I’ll sell it!”

“There are pawnshops in Huawei City,” a disciple suggested.

This was quickly rejected: “How would an honest overseas man dare enter a big pawnshop? Wouldn’t he just be delivered to their door to be cheated?”

Wang Tu Gen nodded repeatedly: “Since coming here, every day I’ve heard of Senior Brother Song’s good reputation, so I trust him.”

Zhou Xiao Yun led him to the end of the queue: “Wait here. If Senior Brother Song finishes answering questions and hasn’t started eating noodles yet, I’ll bring you in.”

“Good fairy! You’re a living bodhisattva!”

“Stop bowing to me. Junior Brother Li, go to the library and borrow a copy of ‘Overseas Cultivators’ Anti-Fraud Handbook’ for this friend Wang.”

Wang Tu Gen hurriedly expressed his thanks, running to bow before each person.

Who would have thought that he was quietly observing the outer sect environment and each disciple’s reactions?

Every blade of grass and tree at the entrance to Song’s courtyard was now in his sight, all in his mind.