At the entrance of Zhuxia Palace, many fairy clouds were stationed, indicating that those allowed inside Wendao Palace were either extraordinarily gifted or disciples of wealth and noble birth.
A massive bronze lion stood guard at the gate. It stared at Xue Cuo for a moment, then tapped the bronze dice at his feet. The dice tumbled and landed on one.
“Proceed to the second route.”
The disciple behind him was luckier, throwing a six and earning the first route. It seemed he and Xiao Yun might not be assigned together.
Curious, Xue Cuo passed through the talisman formation at the gate.
The talismans felt familiar, imbued with the ancient Daoist resonance, much like the Book of Divine Descent the Goddess had taught him.
There were other second-tier disciples along the way, but not many. No third-tier disciples were in sight, and Xue Cuo did not see Kong Yun.
He looked up to find stone dragon pillars serving as the formation’s eyes, standing tall in the hall. On closer inspection, the stone dragons even seemed to move.
This place was also a space stitched together through the Mustard Seed Technique—a pocket dimension far larger inside than outside, resembling a wide, wild field overrun with weeds.
At the field’s end, talismans shimmered with a faint golden glow, slowly flowing in patterns.
Scattered around were broken stone statues, most battered and worn, but emanating an inexplicable Daoist charm. The faint traces of Daoist essence combined to form a magnificent Daoist tableau.
There were images of wind, fire, thunder, clouds, mountains, and rivers, though most were mere fragments which had been artificially arranged to create a space suited for perception and contemplation of the Dao.
Atop the head of a colossal statue sat a youth in a yellow robe, holding the moon amidst a cluster of stars.
His features were striking, cold as ice and utterly free of mundane taint, like snow atop a mountain or a lotus blooming in frost. He held a string of Buddhist beads and spoke evenly, “Talisman cultivation? I understand. When we spar, I will join in.”
Closing his eyes, he cultivated the Dao; a lotus-like aura of Daoist energy radiated from him.
The disciples nearby flattered him: “Xi Tao-shixiong is here. He will surely correct this unhealthy trend. I’ve heard there’s a rising craze for talisman cultivation in Wendao Palace, and some have spontaneously organised Daoist study groups, disrupting our orthodox Daoism. How can we tolerate this?”
“The Tianyi Sect bullies our Taiyi Sect brethren; we will never swallow this insult!”
“I hear that boy knows some unorthodox techniques; he won’t be easy to deal with.”
The speaker noticed a small child beside him who appeared fair-skinned, plump, and undeniably cute. The child picked up a shard from the ground, studied it briefly, then placed it back in the eye of a stone statue.
Clapping the dust off his hands, the child smiled brightly and asked to join in: “What are you fellow Daoists discussing?”
His smile was like spring flowers in full bloom, evoking warmth and affection.
The disciple took a liking and replied, “We were talking about yesterday on the Dao Discussion Platform.Bai-shijie narrowly lost to the demon child of Tianyi Sect. We’re here to meet him today.”
“Meet him? Why?”
Why indeed?
The disciple was about to answer when the yellow-robed youth atop the statue opened his eyes: “Having corrupted our Daoism and disrupted our teachings. Multiple crimes must be punished.”
Xue Cuo frowned, when suddenly a voice was heard: “Yesterday the senior shijie of the Immortal Sect lost but refused to admit it. Now you intend to bully Xue-shixiong.”
Another boy, sitting cross-legged in meditation, said, “Hey, that’s not quite right. How could the Taiyi Sect, a major sect, stoop to such shamelessness… Oh, wait. They just did yesterday. My apologies.”
The disciple greeting Xue Cuo flew into a rage. “You’re asking for death!”
But the two were undeterred and stepped closer.
One was named Zhu Xiaoyou. He was a plain-faced, dressed in a pale blue Dao robe, of common origin, modest and unassuming: “Fellow Daoist Lin Yin, how did you annoy these fellow Daoists?”
Lin Yin was also a second-tier disciple, with delicate features, skin white as jade, and an upright Daoist bearing. He wondered aloud, “Did I perhaps repeat what they did?”
“You!”
The disciple fumed, stamping angrily, but unable to best Zhu Xiaoyou and Lin Yin. He glared fiercely: “Xi Tao-shixiong is here! How dare you two be so reckless!”
Zhu Xiaoyou smirked, meeting Xi Tao’s gaze. His heart skipped a beat. He’d never met him before, but knew he was formidable.
This year’s new disciples were truly a gathering of hidden dragons and crouching tigers.
Xi Tao said, “Do you think people like Xue Cuo represent the orthodox Daoist arts?”
Zhu Xiaoyou was curious, and Xue Cuo listened eagerly, even pulling out a small bag of snacks from his storage ring to watch the drama unfold.
Seeing Xi Tao’s aloof but calm demeanour, Zhu Xiaoyou sensed a willingness to converse and said, “What’s wrong with that? Orthodox Daoist arts must be confined to Wendao Palace? Dividing all Daoist magic into nine grades, where the upper class learns advanced techniques and the lower class learns inferior ones. And we’re supposed to be grateful? Ridiculous.”
Xi Tao rose silently, each word weighed carefully: “What method does Xue Cuo teach?”
Zhu Xiaoyou’s tone darkened; clearly, he didn’t know.
Xi Tao refrained from mocking and instead explained: “He preaches among the clouds that the Dao has no high or low, no front or back, no heaven or earth, no form or emptiness.”
Zhu Xiaoyou considered this and saw no issue. “What’s wrong with that?”
Xi Tao: “……”
His expression was telling. It was like a cow chewing a peony to Zhu Xiaoyou’s mind.
He said, “He is a once-in-a-thousand-years genius, destined to ascend. This is the original Dao insight a Heavenly God Realm cultivator gains.”
“Ordinary cultivators progress step by step, and if lucky, gain insight upon breaking through the Heavenly God Realm. But for those without talent, blindly following this Dao is like forcing seedlings to grow unnaturally, harming themselves and others.”
Zhu Xiaoyou’s eyes widened. “What?”
Xi Tao frowned, playing with his Buddhist beads. “What I mean is his Dao is too profound. Ordinary disciples risk losing their sense and way after hearing it.”
“And he’s sparked a craze for talisman cultivation; everyone scrambles to learn.”
“But without his exceptional talent, many will never break through their entire lives.”
“Xue Cuo should not disrupt the Dao and Dao hearts of ordinary cultivators—allowing them a glimpse of the Dao, but never to approach it.”
“So their minds become unbalanced, and they stray from the path.”
The cultivators were left utterly dumbfounded by what they’d just heard. Yet Xi Tao remained blissfully unaware, casting a cold but courteous glance around the room. “For example, each of you here.”
The cultivator who’d been shouting so fiercely paled suddenly, then his face darkened. Clutching his chest, he felt as if struck by a thousand swords.
Lin Yin’s lips twitched as he leaned towards Zhu Xiaoyou. “Ge, have we made a mistake? Was that disrespectful to Xue-shixiong?”
Zhu Xiaoyou steadied his friend, nearly wearing a mask of pain himself. He’d whimsically tried to learn talisman craft yesterday and attempted the simplest talisman… only to produce a sorry pile of rubbish.
“Don’t say anything yet, I’m feeling gutted right now.”
Xue Cuo was even more startled, dropping his snacks. He brushed crumbs from his hands and hesitantly said, “Fellow Daoist, I don’t quite agree.”
Xi Tao’s gaze was clear and steady. He extended a hand with a perfectly polite invitation. “Oh? If this fellow Daoist think I’m mistaken, please speak freely.”
Xue Cuo furrowed his brow and scratched his head. “…He’s not quite that powerful. The Dao he’s realised isn’t as profound as you say. It’s not impossible to learn.”
Xi Tao frowned, fingers turning his Buddhist beads. Despite himself, he was a little disappointed. “You don’t understand him. When you meet him later, and I make my move, you’ll understand.”
“I’ve sparred with Sword Immortal’s disciple Gu Ruhui. We’re evenly matched, so I’m confident I can survive ten moves against Xue Cuo.”
Zhu Xiaoyou’s mind was already a blur. “You’re here to duel Xue-shixiong?!”
Xi Tao hummed thoughtfully and looked around at the strange expressions. “I’m here to make him look good, to prove how strong he is, and to stop you all from blindly copying and following the trend.”
Zhu Xiaoyou was stunned. What sort of merciful male Bodhisattva was this?
And did “make him look good” mean what it sounded like literally?
Even matched with Sword Immortal disciples, this Bodhisattva was unfathomably strong among his peers… ridiculously so!
Zhu Xiaoyou: “…”
The cultivators: “…”
Xue Cuo lowered his head and shrank into himself, shy as a stone, not daring to move.
At that moment, a clang echoed from the sky.
All the cultivators looked up. The stone dragon pillars in Zhuxia Palace blinked awake. Muscular stone dragons stirred, wrapped in iron chains, glaring fiercely at the disciples.
“All disciples.”
The magnificent Dao voice thundered, carrying a fierce gale.
A disciple exclaimed, “The Immortal is above us!”
Xue Cuo’s hair stood on end; he instinctively covered his ears. Above Zhuxia Palace, a dishevelled Daoist lounged on the clouds, his face flushed.
He burped, scratched his foot, held it beneath his nose to sniff, looking utterly drunk.
The disciple who’d spoken nearly tripped over in surprise.
Behind the Daoist, a huge stone dragon head emerged, rubbing affectionately against him. The Daoist scratched its chin.
The stone dragon squinted in bliss.
The dishevelled Daoist said, “I am Fang Longxi, known as the Daoist Who Quit Drinking. I’m the current Daoist Master of Zhuxia Palace. This place is called the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods. I’ll activate the formation shortly.”
He lazily raised a finger. “You’re allowed four hours each day here to cultivate the Dao. What you learn depends on your own skill.”
A disciple gasped, “Four hours! It takes six just to sit meditation. How is that possible?”
Fang Longxi glanced at him, patted the dragon’s head, and casually said, “Fine, six hours then.”
The disciple brightened and bowed in thanks. Seeing this, others clamoured to increase their time, and the easy-going Daoist granted every request.
Only Xue Cuo, Zhu Xiaoyou, Lin Yin, and Xi Tao remained unmoved.
The Daoist poured wine into his mouth but nothing came out. Disappointed, he puckered his lips, took a big gulp, and Xue Cuo twitched the corner of his mouth.
Fang Longxi sighed and looked down. “Don’t you four want more time to learn?”
They each pondered, then shook their heads in unison.
Fang Longxi asked, “Xue Cuo? Won’t you add a few hours?”
Who?!
All eyes turned sharply to the child in the front row. Xue Cuo felt as if needles prickled his back. Some gazes burned intensely, and he dared not meet them.
His eyes widened, scalp tingling. Wondering how this dishevelled Daoist knew him, he shook his head repeatedly. “No, no.”
Fang Longxi said “Oh” and casually stroked the dragon’s head. He took off his black, battered shoes and tossed them into the sky.
Suddenly, darkness swallowed the sky. Xue Cuo felt as if he’d fallen into another world.
