Chapter 189: Qixia Cave Heaven

Chapter 189: Qixia Grotto-Heaven

When his vision cleared once more, Zou Sijiu discovered with a start that he now stood amid a vast sea of clouds.

A blood-red setting sun hung at heaven's edge, crimson light spilling across heaven and earth—not merely dyeing the cloud layers through and through, but cloaking the ten-thousand-zhang rivers and mountains beneath his feet in scarlet raiment as well.

Gazing down upon the crimson sun and autumn waters, accompanied by white clouds and a solitary wild duck.

Such an immortal scene needed no explanation; the nearly hundred souls standing upon the cloud layer all knew—this was the famed Qixia Grotto-Heaven.

Not to mention, the Longevity True Man who had manifested during the Dharma Assembly now stood right before them.

"We pay respects to Patriarch Liu!"

The crowd, roused from their reverie at the beautiful scenery, hastily cupped their fists in salute.

"All of you, dispense with formalities."

Patriarch Liu wore a smile like a spring breeze, his voice gentle: "That you could enter Qixia Grotto-Heaven today means you share karmic affinity with my Daoist sect. Perhaps before long, you too may ascend to the immortal registers and become fellow Daoists with this poor priest."

"Honored guests from afar—allow this poor priest to introduce Qixia Grotto-Heaven to you."

Zou Sijiu mingled in the crowd, eyes fixed upon the "Patriarch Liu" holding forth before him.

Earlier in the plaza, his position had been somewhat peripheral, and the light-and-shadow effects of the Dharma Assembly had been far too dazzling—he simply hadn't gotten a clear look at this "Patriarch Liu's" appearance.

Now that he was closer, Zou Sijiu suddenly realized with a shock that this face looked increasingly familiar the more he stared.

This damnable old cow-nose—he'd actually modeled the Daoist Patriarch Liu's face after his own! Utterly shameless!

Upon recognizing "Patriarch Liu's" true identity, Zou Sijiu hurriedly averted his gaze.

Though the immortal serving as tour guide before him was likely just one of Wang Wenqin's avatar-alts, his main consciousness wasn't present here.

But if the other party detected something amiss, "switching accounts" would take but the blink of an eye.

One must remember—this was Qixia Grotto-Heaven. Wang Wenqin, who held the permissions, was no less than a god from mythological tales within this domain.

"Next, the various lay practitioners may freely tour the grotto-heaven and experience the marvelous effects of the Supreme Spirit-Settling Elixir. A rare opportunity—please cherish it."

After introducing the various scenic wonders of Qixia Grotto-Heaven, Patriarch Liu waved his whisk, dismissing the crowd to their own devices.

No sooner had these words fallen than the crowd, already impatient, scattered like birds and beasts, rushing toward whatever caught their fancy.

That boy whom Zou Sijiu had "treated" to entry into the grotto-heaven proved quite bold—he trotted to a cloud's edge, stuck his bottom out, and peered downward.

As for that wooden "flying sword," it lay discarded at his feet, momentarily forgotten.

Seeing the boy enjoying himself, Zou Sijiu left him be, his sleeves concealing hands that swiftly formed calculation seals as he silently reckoned.

"By conventional reasoning, Buddhism's Millet-Dream Buddha-Land takes the Buddha-Land's main server as its foundation—the more abundant the main server's karmic computational power, the stronger the Buddha-Land, and the more fruit-positions it can accommodate."

"Daoism, however, follows 'gathering myriad mighty powers into one body.' A Daoist grotto-heaven's strength is determined by the power of its permission-holder. In other words, how large this Qixia Grotto-Heaven can be depends entirely on how strong that cow-nose old Daoist Wang Wenqin's mental power is."

"Divine Rosy Clouds Daoist Wang Wenqin is merely a mid-tier Dao Stage Seven Golden Core cultivator—his mental power could support a grotto-heaven range of ten li at most."

"Now he's let so many people in to tour and experience it—the mental burden must be considerable. And maintaining such a realistic environment would shrink the grotto-heaven's range even further."

"Whittled down like this, Qixia Grotto-Heaven's current size is probably just a one-li radius around this cloud sea."

As he calculated, Zou Sijiu had already paced to the edge of this cloud sea—beyond lay ten-thousand-zhang void. Gale winds howled, inspiring dread.

Zou Sijiu extended his left hand forward, the motion like one trying to catch the wind—and indeed, his palm met an invisible wall.

Zou Sijiu's spirit stirred; he understood—this was Qixia Grotto-Heaven's boundary! Without further delay, his right thumb tapped the knuckles of his other four fingers in a special sequence, and he silently recited:

"Yin-Yang Fangshi, Millet-Dream Master. I am Zou Sijiu. In the name of the Yin-Yang Nuo Duke, I borrow permissions, open a back door, seize the Yin-Yang remnants, and wrest Qixia's permissions!"

Abruptly, Zou Sijiu felt a gentle breeze brush his face, while a tearing sound like rending silk rang beside his ears.

That "invisible wall" keeping the gale winds at bay split open, cracks spiderwebbing across it.

Wind slipped silently inside, tearing the white clouds into wispy streamers.

Not far off, the boy lying on the cloud sea watching with delight suddenly discovered with surprise that the sunset hanging in the distance seemed to have sunk a little.

"Grandpa Sun, are you going down the mountain?"

"Hey, look! That footage—it really IS Qixia Grotto-Heaven!"

"This realism, this interactivity—just watching the livestream is this beautiful. If one could be there in person, who knows how magnificent it would be."

A voice dripped with sourness: "Isn't that stating the obvious? This is a Daoist grotto-heaven visit costing three thousand treasure-notes! If it weren't realistic enough, you might as well go play those market-sold 'Investiture of the Gods' games and pretend to be the Three Pure Ones for a while."

"How can you be so sarcastic? Daring to blaspheme the Three Pure Ones' Patriarchs—I think you're asking for a beating!"

Amid the crowd gathered before the plaza, gasps and quarrels erupted.

These common believers never expected that the "small gift" Qixia Group had given them would actually be a live broadcast of real-time footage from within Qixia Grotto-Heaven!

Across the entire imperial southwest's Daoist Dharma Assembly, this was quite unprecedented.

One must understand—Daoist grotto-heavens aren't like the Millet-Dream Buddha-Land, which belongs to a "co-built, co-shared" Millet-Dream illusion. The threshold is considerably higher by comparison.

"High threshold" doesn't merely mean higher ticket prices for entry—it also depends on whether the grotto-heaven's master is willing to open it.

Those "Cultivation Academies" run by Daoist conglomerates offer only simplified versions of grotto-heavens.

Their functions and experiences cannot compare in the slightest to the Qixia Grotto-Heaven before their eyes.

To witness Qixia Grotto-Heaven's true visage this once—for the many believers in the plaza, it was simply the best bragging capital for when they returned home, and made their long wait in the rain entirely worthwhile.

"Fellow Daoist, Fellow Daoist, did you see? That's my grandson! Yes, yes, that little boy sticking his bottom out watching the sunset."

An old man grabbed the person beside him, pointing at a corner of the screen, introducing excitedly: "This kid met a nobleman today—actually got invited into the grotto-heaven. Truly Patriarch Liu's blessing!"

"So you want your grandson to join the Daoist sect, become a follower in the Daoist sequence?"

The old man, utterly oblivious to the other's strange expression, nodded with a smile: "Of course! If he could become an immortal, he'd live the good life!"

"The Daoist sect isn't immortals. There are no immortals in this world."

The other's icy gaze made the old man's heart tremble; his words sent a chill down the old man's spine.

"Don't you know how these Daoists persecute and exploit us?"

"I... you're not a fellow Daoist. I've nothing more to say to you!"

The old man's face paled with alarm; he hurriedly shuffled away toward the other side.

The man showed no intention of continuing to harass the old man, merely standing quietly in place, eyes fixed on that blue-robed Daoist beside the screen.

Or rather—fixed on the Daoist's hands.