Chapter 431: Good Immortal

Chapter 431: The Immortal of the Pure Hearth

A complex lattice of emotion shifted across Akechi Haruhide’s delicate, pristine face.

"Who could have imagined that someone from the august Daoist Lineage of Mount Longhu would willingly serve as your eyes and ears?"

The young Daoist laughed heartily at her words, a sweep of his voluminous sleeve gathering the pale pink petals scattered among the blades of grass.

"Do not phrase it so unpleasantly. Whether in the mortal realm where cultivators temper their souls, or the mundane world where commoners make their homes, the adage that 'the victor is king and the vanquished is the outlaw' remains an universal truth. Terms like spy, scout, mole, and traitor are merely slanderous epithets the winners impose upon the losers."

The young Daoist wagged a finger at Akechi Haruhide and smiled. "Thus, in my eyes, he is simply a man of talent who recognizes the tides of the times."

"Recognizes the tides of the times?"

Akechi Haruhide knitted her brows slightly, quietly savoring the phrase uttered by the Daoist before murmuring, "Those who walk the Path of the Dao ought not harbor such heavy worldly ambitions."

"Ambition is an innate trait bestowed upon humanity by the Heavenly Dao; even our genes conform to its laws, selecting the superior to cast out the inferior, retaining the strong to discard the weak. Therefore, the essence of ambition is none other than the Will of Heaven itself."

The young Daoist spoke eloquently and at length. "For those within the Daoist Lineage, what matters most? Wealth, realm, reputation? Or perhaps the authority of the Yellow Millet, or even the most exalted seat of the Heavenly Immortals within the White Jade Capital?"

The pale pink cherry blossoms swirled upward, coalescing beneath the young Daoist and Akechi Haruhide into two circular meditation cushions.

With a light tap of his foot, the Daoist leapt onto his cushion and sat cross-legged. He had audaciously assumed the posture of one presiding over a spiritual discourse, extending an inviting hand toward Akechi Haruhide.

After a moment's hesitation, Akechi Haruhide ultimately chose to take her seat upon the other.

"None of the above."

The young Daoist shook his head. "All of those are merely trivial appendages that come after you achieve true longevity. Only immortality itself is the ultimate ambition!"

"The divinations of your Yin-Yang Lineage to calculate fortune and avoid calamity—is its ultimate purpose not also to prolong your own existence? And among the 'wealth, methods, companionship, and sanctuary' upon which the followers of the Daoist gates depend for survival, which one does not serve the pursuit of long life? So when that member of the Mount Longhu Daoist Lineage chose to forsake the darkness and step into the light, can he truly not be counted as a man of talent?"

Suddenly, Akechi Haruhide recalled certain rumors of unverifiable authenticity that had circulated within the Yin-Yang Lineage over recent years, and her gaze betrayed a touch of astonishment.

"Could it be that Mount Longhu truly shows signs of decline, just as the rumors suggest?"

"In days gone by, Mount Wudang was at the zenith of its power, capable of confronting the Martial Lineage head-on, yet it was still replaced by the Yongle Palace. The decline of Mount Longhu is nothing extraordinary."

The young Daoist remarked indifferently, "Though the path of cultivation is indeed like rowing upstream—where failing to advance means drifting backward—Mount Longhu’s philosophy of leaving life and death to fate, and wealth to heaven, is far too radical. They have effectively veered into the demonic path."

Akechi Haruhide could not help but counter, "Was the Martial Lineage of old not precisely the same?"

"The sects of the Daoist Lineage are a far cry from the gangs of the Martial Lineage. Furthermore, the Martial Lineage possessed plenty of fraternal bonds and master-disciple affection. Although such ties were largely maintained through the inheritance of martial arts, they never exalted the law of the jungle to the extent that Mount Longhu does today."

The young Daoist paused for a moment. "The most critical point is that when an entire sect remains in a state of conflict for an extended period, and resources are not uniformly allocated by the upper echelons but left for the disciples to contest, the inevitable result is that every disciple's mind becomes consumed with how to plunder others and suppress their own kin. Over time, who will still cultivate within the Yellow Millet Dreamscape? Who will develop new techniques or research new Daoist machinery?"

"Mount Longhu has always detested being called 'Daoist bandits' by others, but the reality is that they are the greatest bandit plague within the current Daoist Lineage."

The corners of the young Daoist's mouth curved up, and he laughed aloud. "The miniature talismans and Daoist armor technology displayed by the Gezao Mountain Daoist Lineage this time can be considered a fierce slap across their faces."

Akechi Haruhide inquired, "Luo Tian and Luo Cheng of Gezao Mountain were slain by that rogue cultivator of the Martial Lineage. What does that have to do with Mount Longhu?"

"Then why do you think they are so obstinate, insisting on retaining the 'Dou Division'—that old faction of Sword Immortals—among the Nine Divisions of Longhu?"

Without waiting for Akechi Haruhide to reply, the Daoist spoke disdainfully, "Is it not because they vainly attempt to achieve the dual cultivation of spirit and flesh, refining their genes generation after generation, retracing the path of the ancient Martial Lineage to become even stronger than them? Unfortunately, this method of cultivation became obsolete long ago. Only a few unrepentant, self-righteous failures still persist with it."

For some reason, Akechi Haruhide felt a trace of inexplicable vexation underlying his tone as he spoke these words.

"Without outward expansion, such frenzied internal consumption by Mount Longhu can only lead to a dead end!"

The Daoist's words were sharp and absolute, carrying the weight of a final verdict.

"I see. Thank you, fellow Daoist, for dispelling my doubts. However, who exactly among them is your agent? Is it Yang Long, who appears coarse but possesses a mind as meticulous as a hair, or Yang Ji, who attends to Zhang Qinglü's every whim?"

"Why must it be one of those two?"

The young Daoist countered with a smile, "Could it not be someone else?"

"It would not be anyone else."

Akechi Haruhide shook her head, her tone resolute.

The Daoist merely smiled without a word, offering no sound.

Seeing that he had no intention of answering, Akechi Haruhide did not delve deeper into the matter, a faint smile gracing her chilly countenance.

"Gezao Mountain is arrogant and conceited, Yongle Palace is indecisive and hesitant, and Mount Longhu's future is bleak. It appears that selling Takamagahara to your Mount Qingcheng was indeed my best choice?"

"It was also your only choice."

The young Daoist’s eyes suddenly grew cold. "However, I must still remind you: once you exit this Yellow Millet Dreamscape, Takamagahara is the apprenticeship gift you, Akechi Haruhide, present to Mount Qingcheng. There is no transaction whatsoever between you and Mount Qingcheng. Do you understand?"

"Will anyone truly believe such words?"

"Does it matter whether they believe it or not?"

Akechi Haruhide's naivety seemed to make the young Daoist somewhat impatient. "What we require is a righteous pretext to seize the initiative. You are not yet a member of the Daoist Lineage, so there are many inner workings I will not bother explaining to you. Just act accordingly."

"Understood."

A rare, compliant smile appeared on Akechi Haruhide's face. She stood up from the petal cushion, clasped her hands in salute to the young Daoist, and bowed deeply.

"Akechi Haruhide pays her respects to Senior Brother."

"Once you enter the gate and alter your sequence, you will be among the Earthly Immortals of the White Jade Capital. I cannot presume to accept the title of Senior Brother."

The Daoist waved his hand dismissively, yet despite his words, his seated posture remained completely unmoved.

"Then I wonder when I might journey to Chengdu Prefecture to pay homage to the mountain gate, receive the talismans, and attain the Dao?"

"You mean to ask when we will convert your sequence, do you not?"

The smile on the Daoist's face turned playful. "You have endured so many years of concealment; can you truly not wait for this brief moment now?"

"I only fear that a long delay may breed complications."

Akechi Haruhide kept her head lowered, concealing the expression on her face.

Yet even without his eyes, the Daoist could guess that the woman before him was likely consumed with a rising surge of fury.

After all, no one wished to have their sordid past brought up to their face, especially when the one mentioning it belonged to the very Daoist Lineage she had previously hated the most.

But this was precisely the effect the young Daoist desired; he needed to crush Akechi Haruhide’s delicate pride and arrogance.

It was necessary to make this woman understand that the reason she could sit within Takamagahara and bargain with the various major Daoist factions was not because her methods were exceptionally seasoned or her intellect neared that of a demon, but simply because she was capitalizing on the current gambit between the Confucian and Daoist factions.

"Although the Yin-Yang Lineage shares deep roots with the Daoist Lineage, they are ultimately two distinct sequences, and their compatible genes possess fundamental differences. Therefore, we must first suppress your Yin-Yang Lineage genes using 'Formations,' and then implant a complete Daoist foundation of the Fourth Realm into your body to gradually adapt to your genes. Only in this manner can we ensure the success rate of your 're-cultivation' to the greatest extent possible."

"How long will that take?"

"Cultivation is not a matter that can be rushed."

The Daoist cast a sideways glance at her, speaking in a flat tone. "While Mount Qingcheng has had successful precedents in the past, everyone's genetic makeup is unique; precedents offer only a fraction of reference value. Whether it is the 'dissipation of the Dao-heart' that occurs during the cognitive transition, or the 'invasion of inner demons' that may arise when the Daoist foundation is injected, both are tribulations that can lead to the failure of your 're-cultivation.' We must make absolute preparations before proceeding..."

"I can forgo this body."

Akechi Haruhide interrupted him directly, slowly raising her head, the expression on her face exceptionally resolute.

The Daoist appraised her up and down, a half-smile playing on his lips. "What serves to carry the Daoist foundation is not these vessels you possess, but your true, original body."

"I am speaking of my original body."

This time, it was the Daoist’s turn to be surprised. After a moment of contemplation, he asked, "Though the current standing of your Yin-Yang Lineage has plummeted drastically, it does not mean the Yin-Yang Lineage genes have been obsolete. If you transplant the Daoist foundation with your original body, the already activated Yin-Yang genes will serve as the finest nourishment, and your strength after conversion would rank in the middle tier even among those of the Fourth Realm. Are you truly willing to discard it just like that?"

"The more one demands, the less one might ultimately obtain."

Akechi Haruhide spoke solemnly, "I can directly seize the body of an existing cultivator of the Fourth Realm. I wonder if the sect would grant this fulfillment?"

This woman still does not trust us...

The young sage's expression turned cold and scornful, yet his lips betrayed him with a simple promise: "Of course. The most important thing on Mount Qingcheng is that many people have committed grave mistakes in their teachings. If you casually bring one up to the Ethical Realm, you can exploit the moment and take it from you."

"Only then," the sage continued, his tone sharp, "would I hand over the host of the High Heaven."

"Only then," said Meiqing Hui, her thoughts unshaken. "But after the takings succeed, I would naturally release the host of the High Heaven."

"Just the host?" The sage's eyes narrowed slightly, his voice unsteady.

"On that day, when I offered my permission, the storm clouds gathered. The white clouds above turned black as ink, and the relentless rain poured down like a deluge from the sky."

A thunderous crash echoed through the streets. The heavy rain pounded against the rooftops, creating a deafening roar. The young sage's words hung in the air like a warning.

Inside a crumbling, modest yakshaghan (traditional teahouse), Meiqing Hui sat motionless, her gaze fixed on the rain-soaked street. "You really think I should do this?" she asked softly, her voice tinged with quiet doubt.

The sage's eyes flickered with something between resolve and sorrow. "I know you do. But after the takings are complete, I would gladly let you go. It wouldn't be much better than losing the position in White Pearl City."

She leaned forward slightly, her tone measured. "Only then would I be safe. And I wouldn't play any tricks at this moment."

The young sage exhaled slowly, his posture shifting as if the weight of the words settled upon him. "Then let it be so. I will hurry to bring you to the High Heaven."

With a final nod, the sage vanished into the mist, leaving Meiqing Hui alone in the dim light, the rain still falling like a relentless curtain.