Chapter 932: Visiting the Laurel Immortal Palace

Between the central continent and the far north stretched a continuous range of snow-capped mountains spanning from east to west, buried in eternal snow and seldom seeing a clear day.

"So this is the legendary Great Snowy Mountain," Lu Yang muttered, standing at its foot and shielding his eyes as he looked up. Through the dense, swirling flakes like goose feathers, a majestic mountain of pure white lay quietly before him.

"It is hardly a legend, merely a place too remote for anyone to willingly visit," Lan Ting smiled beside him.

This was a statement of modesty; the Laurel Immortal Palace was a semi-secluded sect that rarely interacted with the outside world. Any external communications, such as seeking their assistance, issuing missions, righteous conventions, or immortal gatherings, relied on the great liaison hall at the foot of the mountain.

Yet, there were occasions when outsiders could bypass this process, as when Lan Ting brought Lu Yang up the mountain—a practice commonly referred to among the common folk as going through the back door.

Along the winding path upward, small trees as translucent as jade appeared frequently on either side, standing about a man's height and as exquisitely crafted as works of art.

"Are these laurel trees?" This was Lu Yang’s first time seeing a living laurel tree, having only ever encountered their detached branches in the outer world.

Laurel trees grew only upon the Great Snowy Mountain; once removed, no manner of divine ability could sustain their life.

"Yes, the mountain is covered in laurel trees. Legend has it that three hundred thousand years ago, a war of ancient immortals crushed the stars into continents, and the moon became this very mountain."

"Fairy, is that true?" Lu Yang sought verification from the Immortal Fairy, whose awareness was notoriously intermittent.

"Probably. Judging by the soil composition beneath your feet, it really is the moon. In our era, the laurel trees indeed grew on the moon, and the Jade Rabbit used to dig holes beneath them. The Nine-Layered Immortal often flew to the moon to catch rabbits for breeding, while the Yingtian Immortal would take his World-Cleaving Axe to chop laurel wood, bringing it back for me to use as firewood."

"Let me tell you, meals cooked with laurel wood possess a distinct fragrance that no other tree can replicate."

The two climbed the mountain at a leisurely pace. At thirty thousand meters high, it was the tallest mountain in the cultivation world and nearly insurmountable for ordinary cultivators, but Lu Yang and Lan Ting were already in the Divine Transformation Stage, ascending the incline as though walking on flat ground.

The closer they drew to the summit, the more frequently the laurel trees appeared, growing taller until they were grand trees exceeding ten meters in height.

When Lu Yang stepped onto a massive rocky platform, he saw a pristine white palace nestled within the peaks, magnificent and ethereal as a celestial realm—the Laurel Immortal Palace, renowned by word of mouth but rarely ever visited.

Lan Ting led Lu Yang to the palace entrance, where two guarding female disciples instinctively grew vigilant upon seeing a man approach, raising their halberds to bar the way.

Just as Lan Ting prepared to explain, the two disciples recognized Lu Yang's face, their hesitation giving way to a flicker of delight as they asked, "Could you be Senior Brother Lu Yang of the Wendao Sect?"

Lu Yang nodded, though he felt the look in their eyes was somewhat unusual.

Lan Ting cursed inwardly; she had only thought of inviting Lu Yang to the palace to draw closer to him, completely forgetting how popular he was here.

"Did Young Master Meng, the Buddhist Son of the Imperial City, not come with you?" The two disciples peered past him, hoping to catch a glimpse of the legendary, austere, and detached Buddhist Son who shunned women and devoted himself solely to the Dao.

"He is currently at a critical stage of his cultivation and cannot travel," Lu Yang replied.

This was the absolute truth; given Meng Jingzhou’s current plight, his priority was to stay away from women, making the Laurel Immortal Palace, with its abundance of beauties, a forbidden zone for him.

"So that is how it is. Please enter, Senior Brother," the disciples said, granting passage without requiring any explanation from Lan Ting.

As Lan Ting had remarked earlier, the rules of the palace were not particularly strict.

Of course, that leniency depended entirely on the individual; had it been the Daoist Buyu, he would never have received such hospitality.

Lan Ting was already beginning to regret bringing Lu Yang to the palace, thinking it might have been better to invite him to her home instead.

But having brought him to the very gates, it was too late to turn back.

Inside the palace, everything was wrapped in silver and white, a thick mantle of snow draping the eaves and branches.

The Laurel Immortal Palace certainly possessed the power to clear the snow, but its founder, Master Zhaiyue, believed such an environment aided the cultivation of lunar power, and thus chose not to deploy barriers against the weather.

"I will take you to see my Master first."

Lu Yang's expression became slightly nuanced.

Lan Ting’s Master, the Palace Master Luo Hongxia, belonged to the same generation as Daoist Buyu. She was a venerable elder, yet she had also been beaten by Lu Yang when their cultivation realms were suppressed to equality.

To be precise, she had been beaten by Lu Yang while he was possessed by the Immortal Fairy, a beating that left Luo Hongxia with a mouth full of leaves.

Anxious that Lu Yang’s presence would be discovered by the other disciples, Lan Ting hurriedly pulled him toward her Master's dwelling.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast they walked, they could not run within the palace grounds, and they encountered several disciples along the way, all of whom recognized the renowned Lu Yang.

Before they could speak, Lan Ting pulled Lu Yang away at a swift pace.

"Master, look who I have brought!" Lan Ting called out excitedly as she entered the Palace Master’s cave dwelling.

"Lu Yang?" Luo Hongxia’s expression stiffened slightly upon seeing him, the memory of being overwhelmed by him resurfacing.

"Junior Lu Yang greets Palace Master Luo," Lu Yang said, maintaining his usual polite demeanor before elders—instances where he lacked manners were invariably when the Immortal Fairy possessed him.

"Master, while out on a mission, I encountered an elder of the Heartless Cult. Senior Brother Lu Yang appeared and saved me, so I thought to invite him to our palace as a guest. Is that alright?"

As the Palace Master's disciple, Lan Ting possessed life-saving techniques and would not have been in mortal danger even without Lu Yang, but that did not deter her from phrasing it this way.

Luo Hongxia’s brow twitched slightly. You have already brought the man before me and now you ask if it is alright; could I possibly say no?

Observing the rare excitement dancing in Lan Ting's expression, Luo Hongxia sighed inwardly. She had warned her long ago to stay away from disciples of the Wendao Sect lest her mind be corrupted, but her good disciple had clearly paid no heed to her words.

A grown daughter cannot be kept at home.

Suppressing her sigh, she spoke with surface calm, "Since he saved your life, hosting him in our palace does not violate our protocols."

Having secured her Master's approval, Lan Ting joyfully led Lu Yang out of the cave dwelling.

Yet the moment they pushed open the gates, they found a crowd of female disciples gathered outside, a fluttering flock of beauties that left Lu Yang quite dazzled.

"Have we finally laid eyes on the legendary Senior Brother Lu Yang?"

"Don't push, don't push!"

"Senior Brother Lu Yang, how long will you be staying at our palace?"

"Senior Brother Lu Yang, can you tell us what the ancient ancestor of the Dragon Race is like?"

The disciples were immensely curious about this Senior Brother Lu Yang, whose name was adorned with so many legends. Word of his arrival had spread rapidly, and they had all blocked the path to see how the real Lu Yang compared to his portraits.

Never having faced such an assembly of beautiful female cultivators, Lu Yang was utterly at a loss, a rare wave of embarrassment washing over him.