“No mountain surpasses it in grandeur; no history surpasses it in antiquity!”

This was Mount Tai. In the ancient era, it had not looked like this — its height had been untold tens of thousands of zhang. The saying “from atop Mount Tai, all mountains seem small” was no idle boast.

The mountain was covered in cliff-side inscribed steles. This mountain was itself a chapter of history, a testament of secret lore and ancient affairs like a great historical text — but sadly, everything had changed.

Ye Fan listened quietly, and came away with a great harvest. For so many days now, he had been running between repositories, reading through rare editions, hoping to understand the ancient era — but nothing he had read touched the world of cultivation.

Now, hearing these young people speak, he nodded to himself inwardly and gained some understanding of the situation. At the very least, he was about to enter another world — one that transcended the realm of the ordinary.

The so-called Assembly of Cultivators was a large-scale gathering. From the way these few spoke, treating it with such importance and wanting to prove themselves — they all hoped that outstanding performance would earn them entry into the inner sanctums of the Supreme Clarity and Numinous Treasure sects.

Ye Fan found this somewhat amusing. Though these few were Daoist disciples — and reasonably talented ones at that — they were still far from the core. The world of cultivation had its own laws everywhere, and there were hierarchies no matter where one went.

Both the Supreme Clarity School and the Numinous Treasure sect had their own hidden grounds. Ordinary people could not approach them — only core members could enter. It went without saying that in this age of dried-out heavens and earth, those places must be blessed sanctuaries capable of accelerating cultivation.

All four of them had opened their Suffering Sea, possessed considerable natural talent, and were not far from the Life Spring realm — proper disciples of orthodox major sects. According to what they had just whispered amongst themselves, being recognized as core disciples was the crucial step, filled with wondrous benefits.

“Let us go. Though traveling through famous mountains and great rivers can nourish the heart and mind, we must still cultivate.” The four set off together, heading down Mount Tai.

“Fellow Dao brothers, please wait.” Ye Fan hurried after them from behind, greeting them with a smile, hoping to travel along with them.

The four were naturally surprised. They all looked at him blankly. Ye Fan introduced himself as a self-taught cultivator with limited family teachings, saying he knew little of the current world of cultivation and hoped to travel with them and learn as he went.

Having a stranger join them — the four were a bit resistant and reluctant. Just then, another person came up the mountain, calling out repeated apologies for being late due to a family matter.

The four were displeased. They had been planning to go into seclusion for cultivation. They told the latecomer that Ye Fan was also a self-taught cultivator, just like him, and that he could show Ye Fan around — and with that, they hurried down the mountain.

Ye Fan rubbed his chin. He had not expected to be so unwelcome. Those four had simply had no desire to have anything to do with him. But then, that was understandable — his origins were unclear, and they were in strict cultivation. Of course they would not wish to be bothered.

The latecomer was named Guo Zhen. He lived in Tai’an, right at the foot of Mount Tai. He was also a self-taught cultivator, and this person was quite warm and easy to talk to — Ye Fan found that they had quite a bit in common. Ye Fan felt he was a decent sort — genuine and straightforward, saying what was on his mind without pretense, with a natural, unaffected quality befitting the Dao. The two descended the mountain together, talking as they walked.

Guo Zhen said: “Brother Ye is also a self-taught cultivator — then we are truly fated to meet. I, too, came upon this path by chance.”

He had never joined any sect. He had come to walk the path of cultivation simply because his grandfather loved reading ancient books. During the campaign to destroy the old ways, anything considered strange or superstitious was to be eradicated. His grandfather had been young then, and in those times, he had witnessed many ancient manuscripts being confiscated from family homes and gathered in one place to be burned. He had secretly hid a few of the most ancient ones.

“And it was from those few ancient texts that you found your way onto this path?” Ye Fan asked with a laugh. It really did have a touch of the theatrical about it.

“I read them as fantastical fiction at first. I thought what they described made a kind of sense after years of poring over them. And then, one time, half asleep and half awake, I truly saw the Suffering Sea within my body…”

Guo Zhen’s path of cultivation was, one could honestly say, uneventful. By chance, he had glimpsed the first secret realm of the human body — and after that, he attempted everything he could, and in a fully conscious state, witnessed it once more. Only then did he commit to this path with firm resolve.

His grandfather had nearly worn those books to shreds from reading them so many times over the years, yet had achieved nothing. It was Guo Zhen himself who, on a chance inspiration, finally took a small step forward.

As for his father — a classic intellectual type. Were it not for knowing that those books were ancient and possibly rare editions with considerable value, he likely would have burned them long ago out of sheer irritation.

“Do your family know?” Ye Fan asked.

“How would one even begin to explain something like this.” Guo Zhen shook his head. He had not told his parents, but he had discussed it with his grandfather — the old man had been so excited he nearly lost his composure, telling Guo Zhen that when he had achieved something, he must surely guide him along the path as well.

Ye Fan took a careful look: Guo Zhen’s personal aptitude was beyond question — otherwise it would have been impossible, in this Age of Fading Law, to feel one’s way onto the path of cultivation unaided. In the Northern Dipper realm, he would truly have been fit to lead a major sect.

He had opened his Wheel Sea, and wisps of spiritual energy were threading out from his Life Spring — on the verge of stepping into the Life Spring realm. He was a notch above the four from before.

When Ye Fan arrived at his dwelling, he immediately understood how Guo Zhen had achieved what he had. Sure enough, everyone who had managed to step onto the path of cultivation in this age had some form of fortuitous opportunity.

It was a rather dilapidated villa — by the look of it, fairly old, and evidently once again on the edge of being demolished. It sat on the outskirts, adjacent to Mount Tai, with fine scenery.

Ye Fan understood the art of source tracing and could read the earth’s veins. He perceived clearly that the old villa sat upon a ley line, with earth essence welling upward and the energy of Mount Tai rising in clouds — it was precisely because of this that Guo Zhen had been given the possibility of cultivation.

He mentioned that his grandfather was quite an interesting character — had dabbled in trading antiques, had genuinely accumulated a sum of money back in the day, and with it had bought the villa, spending his old age in this place. Guo Zhen himself had spent more than half his time here as well.

The two talked with great ease and enjoyment. Guo Zhen told Ye Fan a great deal — things Ye Fan very much wanted to know. Those four from earlier were all disciples of the major Daoist sects in the true sense, and could be a bit proud at times. They were unwilling to associate with self-taught cultivators like Guo Zhen — people who had felt their way along without any guidance.

“The great divine power figures of the ancient era are no longer in the world. Do you know where they’ve all gone?” Ye Fan asked.

“That I truly do not know. The ancient era cannot be spoken of — even the disciples of the great sects know nothing of it. But one can guess at certain things — most likely it comes down to the spiritual energy drying up, making it impossible for divine power to manifest.” Guo Zhen replied.

After that, he spoke of the sects of the present day — exactly what Ye Fan wanted to understand.

Daoism had many branches. Guo Zhen spoke of many: he mentioned the Supreme Clarity School, the Numinous Treasure sect, the Taiyi Path, the Divine Firmament sect, and dozens of other lineages — all formidable transmissions of the present age.

He also made special mention of the Shushan Sword Cultivators — a very mysterious lineage, focused primarily on combat. Ordinary people had no access to them, and even cultivators found them extremely difficult to seek out.

Then there was the even more mysterious Kunlun — cultivators who walked out of that place all carried great origins, with cultivation of the highest order. Few dared provoke them.

Ye Fan’s mind moved swiftly. Could this be the Kunlun mountain range that extended across Tibet and Xinjiang? When he had been searching for sacred mountains, he had ventured there, but found nothing particularly extraordinary.

As for Buddhism — though famous mountains and great rivers all had temples now, truly cultivating practitioners were rarely to be seen. Guo Zhen himself did not know much about them. He also mentioned demon cultivators: bloodlines of the ancient great demons survived in the world. The Great Xia Dragon Sparrow, the Celestial Qilin, and the Vermilion Phoenix were among the most renowned of the great demon god clans.

Ye Fan very much wanted to visit these sects, but Guo Zhen shook his head. Every sect was deeply secretive — no one knew where their true hidden grounds actually were. The heavens and earth had changed, and spiritual energy had dried up. Of course each sect’s remaining pure land had to be kept secret.

Ye Fan was particularly sensitive when it came to the demon clans. He wanted to understand them more deeply — for all signs pointed to the fact that the dead Pang Bo must have had some connection to the demon clans. Yet the major demon bloodlines, though surviving in the world, kept an extremely low profile and were even harder to find.

“At the Assembly of Cultivators, these people will surely all appear.”

Guo Zhen nodded upon hearing this. He too had heard that the Assembly of Cultivators was about to begin, but like Ye Fan, he was a self-taught cultivator — no one would have notified him, and he knew very little about it.

“Then this is simple — let us simply follow those four. Then we’ll find out in due time, won’t we?” Ye Fan smiled.

Guo Zhen smiled wryly. He was not close to those four, and because of his late arrival this time, they had been even more displeased with him. The connection between them was as thin as water — approaching them would likely only earn him a cold reception.

“No matter. We follow from a distance. No need to deal with them.” Ye Fan said.

Guo Zhen thought it over and agreed. He, too, wanted to attend the Assembly of Cultivators and see the world. He did not know the location of those four’s sect grounds — but he did know where they cultivated.

In the end, the two followed along. They caught up with the four midway through the journey and traveled south together, arriving at Wuyi Mountain. Along the way, they overheard the four discussing their destination — the old grounds of the Numinous Treasure sect, where respected elders had taken up residence and the brilliant figures of the younger generation would be gathering. They were going to join in.

Upon hearing this, Ye Fan was naturally very interested. He and Guo Zhen followed from a distance, using no great power, traveling at a leisurely pace and admiring the scenery along the way.

“Jiangxi is truly a land suited for cultivation. I did not expect to find myself here again.” Ye Fan remarked.

The old grounds of the Numinous Treasure sect lay on Mount Gezhao — a branch range extending westward from the Wuyi Mountains, stretching and winding for more than two hundred li, covered in ancient bamboo and age-old pines, with peaks folding over one another, the scenery superb and beautiful.

Ye Fan was particularly interested in this place, for Mount Gezhao was also known as Ge Ridge — a major sacred site of Daoism. The founding patriarch of the Numinous Treasure sect was Ge Xuan, the great-uncle of Ge Hong, who had established the sect here.

Ge Hong had written the Baopuzi, the leading figure of Daoism in the Eastern Jin dynasty — a man of extraordinary talent who had mentioned the Nine Secrets in his works. Ye Fan, since his return, had carefully studied it.

After his great-uncle founded the Numinous Treasure sect, Ge Hong carried it forward and made it flourish, shaking the whole world. He had left indelible traces here. Now, though the Numinous Treasure sect had long since moved its true grounds elsewhere and withdrawn from this place, there were most likely still some remnants.

Mount Gezhao — clouds and mist steaming and swirling, trailing wisps of haze and smoke like stepping into a painted scroll. Springs and cascades, azure peaks and graceful ridges, the spirit subtly contained within.

“The Numinous Treasure sect has not truly abandoned this place. There are many Daoist temples in the mountains, and most of the outer-gate disciples reside here.” Guo Zhen explained. One of the four people he knew had come from this place.

“This place is quite something. It seems the historical records were not wrong — Ge Hong really did dwell here for a long time.” Ye Fan nodded. Upon entering Mount Gezhao, he sensed a subtle and profound energy aura, the trace left behind by a great figure of formidable power who had once cultivated here.

“Gone — they’ve vanished!” Guo Zhen was startled, staring into the depths of the mountain, his expression filled with confusion and surprise.

“Interesting. Even in this age where the heavens and earth have dried up, this place still holds such a wondrous ground. Truly remarkable.” Ye Fan smiled and led Guo Zhen forward. Before long, they arrived before a green mountain.

“There is no path ahead. What are you doing?” Guo Zhen was greatly alarmed, for Ye Fan had pulled him up a green ridge and was apparently going to step right off a cliff edge.

“Do not be afraid.” Ye Fan said. A flash of radiance — and they entered a strange and wondrous environment. White clouds coiled and wound. Several severed peaks stood side by side. The space was vast and expansive, with quite a number of Daoist temples above.

Ancient pines grew here, untold thousands of years old. Old vines crawled over every cliff face. It felt cut off from the outside world entirely, and the spiritual energy was noticeably denser.

“The outer-gate disciples of the Numinous Treasure sect must cultivate here. Otherwise, how could they have achieved such results.” Ye Fan said. Guo Zhen was filled with wonder.

“Who goes there?” An old Daoist appeared and demanded to know.

“We are self-taught cultivators.” Guo Zhen answered.

“Oh — it’s you two. How did you end up here as well?” The four who had just entered had not yet ascended the severed peaks. When they saw Ye Fan and Guo Zhen, they were visibly surprised and confused — and with it, a thread of displeasure.

“This is not a place that just anyone can come to. This is a small-scale gathering, attended by respected elders and brilliant disciples. Those without a Daoist lineage are not permitted to enter.” One of them said, a subtle smirk at the corner of their mouth.

“Indeed. This is the sacred ground of Numinous Treasure. Idle outsiders may not enter.” Another young person spoke up.

The old Daoist nodded as well: “This is one of the Numinous Treasure sect’s important grounds. It is not open to the public. Save for invited fellow cultivators coming to exchange knowledge, only distinguished senior figures may come here. Ordinary people may not enter.”