Hong Su’s understanding of spiritual energy was always vague. She only knew it was a good thing – with spiritual energy, spiritual herbs and beasts could grow, and cultivators would find their practice twice as effective with half the effort. Now that the Taiyan Sect’s spiritual energy was declining, it naturally wasn’t good news. However, Hong Su didn’t concern herself with such matters. She had heard that Zanxing wasn’t dead and had even become the Demon Lord’s daughter. Although she couldn’t figure out exactly how this had happened, as long as Zanxing was alive, Hong Su was very happy.

She didn’t know when she would see the young miss again. Sitting in the courtyard, she propped her chin on her hand and sighed.

Hong Su hadn’t gone down the mountain, so naturally, she didn’t know about the current miserable state of the mortal world. Her small worries were nothing compared to what others in the sect were facing.

At this moment, in the Jinhua Hall of the Taiyan Sect, quite a few people were seated.

The decision-makers from all the major sects were here, discussing the recent flooding disaster throughout Duzhou.

“Everyone, we’ve gathered here today to solve the matter of the floods everywhere.” The speaker was Fu Ronghua, Sect Leader of the Yinfeng Sect. He was always smooth and diplomatic, maintaining good relations with all the major sects on the surface, offending no one. It was best for him to start this discussion. He continued: “Recently, the rain hasn’t stopped, and floods are raging. I imagine all sects have been deeply troubled by water disasters. Now we can only work together with one heart to find a comprehensive solution to overcome this current crisis.”

The floods affected not just ordinary people, but also sect cultivators. Having enjoyed the sects’ prestige among the people, in times of such natural disasters, the major sects naturally had to send disciples down the mountain to help. However, the water disasters were endless – just as one area improved, another would have its embankments burst. The common people were all forced to flee up the mountains, and the lands outside the sects were gradually becoming vast oceans. If this continued, even the sect cultivators couldn’t escape this calamity.

“It’s not just the flood disaster, is it?” Aunt Rongshuang from the Xiangling Sect spoke coldly, “Haven’t your sect’s spiritual veins also had problems?”

Fu Ronghua stiffened. This was also true. Originally, their sect had a spirit stone mine, and it was by relying on this mine that the Yinfeng Sect had been able to rise rapidly in the cultivation world. But in recent years, especially the past two years, the spiritual veins had withered severely, and barely any spirit stones could be mined from that deposit anymore. The entire sect, from top to bottom, had begun advocating frugal spending. Even he, as the sect leader, could only wear old clothes from previous years.

Rongshuang said indifferently, “Everyone does not need to hide and conceal anymore. I imagine the Yinfeng Sect isn’t the only one with withering spiritual veins. In recent years, sect disciples have found it difficult to break through in their cultivation – whether this is coincidental or not, everyone present knows clearly. We can still maintain things for now, but once the spiritual veins completely dry up, the sects’ decline is just a matter of time.”

Lingxin Daoren snorted coldly: “Sect Leader Rongshuang, if you have something to say, speak directly.”

“Duzhou hasn’t experienced such water disasters in hundreds of years. We don’t know when the water disasters will end, but the speed of spiritual vein exhaustion is accelerating. If the rain continues non-stop, in another half year, I’m afraid Duzhou will no longer be the Duzhou we see before us.”

She wasn’t being alarmist – everyone present knew this.

Zhao Mayi stroked his beard and smiled: “Then what does Sect Leader Rongshuang mean?”

“I wonder if you still remember that legend from a thousand years ago.”

Shaoyang Zhenren, who had been sitting silently on the high seat, slightly raised his eyes, finally showing a trace of emotion in his expression.

Fu Ronghua looked at the yellow-robed woman with confusion: “You mean the legend of that flood disaster in Duzhou from a thousand years ago?”

Duzhou Continent had existed for who knows how long. Everyone said that Yushan Shengren, who ascended three hundred years ago, was the first cultivator in Duzhou to ascend to immortality, but this wasn’t entirely accurate.

Even before Yushan Shengren, there had been cultivators who ascended to immortality, but records of related texts could not be found anywhere. This was because a thousand years ago, Duzhou had experienced an unprecedented flood disaster.

The floods lasted for several full years without any reduction. It was said that at the most severe time, an entire mountain range could be submerged overnight. All of Duzhou became a vast ocean with not a single piece of dry land. Whether human race or demon race, none escaped.

Legend had it that a cultivator appeared who exhausted every method to find the entrance connecting the human realm to the immortal realm. With a mortal body, he gambled on a game of chess with the immortals.

He won that game of chess.

The immortal gave the cultivator the method of flood control as the prize for the chess game. The cultivator used the flood control method bestowed by the immortal to resolve the water disaster.

The water disaster in Duzhou gradually receded, and that original cultivator also achieved perfect merit and ascended to immortality. However, after that flood, almost all cultivation sects were destroyed, and the fragmentary records of history were submerged by the torrential waves. Only legends remained, passed down by word of mouth, with no way to know if they were true or false.

“You’re suggesting that the current floods are similar to those from a thousand years ago? That we should be like that cultivator and go to the immortal realm to seek immortal methods to resolve our troubles?” Fu Ronghua shook his head, “Sect Leader Rongshuang, don’t joke around – that’s just a legend!”

“That’s not just a legend.” Rongshuang said calmly, “The place where the immortal realm connects to the human realm in the legend is the Ruins of the Golden Gate.” She looked toward Shaoyang Zhenren, “Doesn’t the Zhenren know this?”

Shaoyang Zhenren remained silent.

Those present were also astonished. That legend was truly absurd, and cultivators had only regarded it as a story. When had they ever heard such claims? For a moment, all eyes turned toward Shaoyang Zhenren.

“The Ruins of the Golden Gate?” Lingxin Daoren frowned, “Isn’t that where Qinghua slayed the Demon Lord? Shaoyang,” his tone suddenly became sharp, “do you know about this matter?”

“During that battle, I didn’t reach the Ruins of the Golden Gate.” Shaoyang Zhenren lowered his eyes.

“But you know how to open the Ruins of the Golden Gate, don’t you?” Rongshuang pressed aggressively.

Back then, when Qinghua Xianzi slayed the Demon Lord at the Ruins of the Golden Gate, she sealed the ruins afterward. From beginning to end, no one had seen the true appearance of the Ruins of the Golden Gate. It wasn’t until after the Demon Lord died and his Yuan power dissipated that Qinghua Xianzi appeared with the Demon Lord’s corpse, making everyone believe the fact of the Demon Lord’s death.

But exactly how Qinghua Xianzi had slain the Demon Lord was unknown to others, and the truth was only known by Shaoyang Zhenren, her fellow sect brother.

“Now, flood disasters are raging, the human world is a vast ocean, and the spiritual veins of all major sects are gradually drying up – we can barely protect ourselves.” Rongshuang looked coldly at Shaoyang Zhenren, her tone as cold as frost: “That Imperial Chess Game is within the Ruins of the Golden Gate. If we find the chess game and obtain immortal methods, perhaps Duzhou still has a thread of hope. Now all sects share the same prosperity and adversity. At this point, won’t the Zhenren tell us the method to enter the Ruins of the Golden Gate?”

All eyes in the hall fell upon Shaoyang Zhenren.

The white-haired man sat quietly, lowering his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking.

After a long while, he finally spoke calmly: “It’s not that I won’t tell you. But even I cannot enter the Ruins of the Golden Gate.”

Lingxin Daoren frowned: “Why?”

“Only the demon race has the key to open the Ruins of the Golden Gate,” he said.