A Pawn's Passage

Qi Xuansu walked in front while Qi Jiaoyao followed behind; one after the other, they entered the Yin-Yang Gate.

On the other side of the Yin-Yang Gate was a long corridor. The ceiling vault and both walls were inlaid with some unknown stones that emitted a faint phosphorescent glow. It was not bright, but enough to not be completely dark.

Behind them was the Yin-Yang Gate they had come through, leaving them no choice but to proceed forward along the corridor.

“Tian Yuan, you say you’re a rising star in the Daoist Order. But how high are we talking?” Qi Jiaoyao asked out of boredom and curiosity. “You don’t even care about immortal objects, so what do you care about?”

Qi Xuansu replied casually, “I told you—high enough to contend for the Grand Master’s seat. What I care about, of course, is my position within the Daoist Order.”

“You’re serious?” Qi Jiaoyao was a little surprised. “I thought you were bragging. To contend for Grand Master, you need huge backing and support. Who’s behind you? The Zhengyi Sect? The Quanzhen Sect? Don’t tell me it’s the Taiping Sect.”

Qi Xuansu said, “My only advantage is that I’m neutral enough. Whoever takes the position of the seventh-generation Grand Master will intensify the conflict among the Three Sects. By the time the eighth-generation Grand Master is chosen, I will become the greatest common divisor between the Three Sects and the Grand Master lineage, that is, if the Daoist Order doesn’t want to split up completely. Oh, ‘greatest common divisor’ is a concept from Westerners. You know what it means, right?”

“Don’t look down on me. I’m a seventh-generation disciple, after all. I’ve studied those Western ideas,” Qi Jiaoyao snorted. “At least you can see things clearly. If the Three Sects can’t overpower one another, then choosing a neutral party is indeed the best short-term option. At the very least, it preserves the Daoist Order’s surface unity. But if that neutral one lacks roots and sufficient support, it’ll be all too easy to follow the sixth-generation Grand Master’s path. The neutral one will only become a puppet of the Three Sects, further weakening the Grand Master’s authority, throwing the Golden Tower Council’s central governance into chaos, and allowing local powerhouses to grow even stronger. In the long run, supporting a centrist is like drinking poison to quench thirst. It’ll only accelerate the Daoist Order’s separation.”

Qi Xuansu looked at Qi Jiaoyao with some surprise. “I didn’t see that coming. You actually have insights like this. I really underestimated you.”

Qi Jiaoyao snorted again. “I just have no interest in building a career in the Daoist Order. If I did, then the Three Prodigies would become the Four Prodigies.”

Qi Xuansu almost couldn’t hold back his laughter. After all, he was also the Fourth Prodigy.

But Qi Xuansu had been a high-ranking Daoist for long enough, and as a Zaohua-stage Martial Arts Practitioner famed for controlling every inch of his body with microscopic precision, he ultimately held back the laugh and returned to the topic. “Everything has to be viewed from both sides. This is a disadvantage, but it’s also an advantage. If this centrist Grand Master can leverage his position, borrowing force to counterforce, achieving a balance of power, mending the rifts among the Three Sects, and further integrating them, then the Daoist Order could still be revitalized. We could remain the dominant force in the world.”

Qi Jiaoyao did not argue this time. “Although circumstances create heroes, it’s undeniable that heroes can also shape circumstances. You can’t overly emphasize only one side. The two complement each other. History may not be created by heroes alone, but at critical turning points. A leader’s capability often determines how events unfold afterward. No matter how you put it, the Daoist Order has reached a turning point on a downward slope. Whether someone pulls it back up or pushes it further down depends greatly on the leader and whether they have that ability.”

Qi Xuansu said nothing and merely sighed.

Even among young emperors with powerful regents, some became true sovereigns who commanded the realm, while others became fleeting puppet rulers. Overemphasizing heroic individuals was certainly flawed, but if one focused only on circumstances while ignoring personal ability, it would begin to feel like destiny was predetermined. One could not deny the role of individual capability in shaping broader trends.

Qi Xuansu was not so arrogant as to believe that he was currently capable of leading the Daoist Order. He still needed more time to grow. After all, he was just a young man who had not even reached the midpoint of his life. Rather than controlling those old veterans, he would already be grateful if they didn’t control him instead.

The two stopped discussing the topic, and Qi Jiaoyao changed the subject. “Are you really married?”

“I’m already engaged,” Qi Xuansu replied. “We’re currently separated in different places, so it’s inconvenient. We’ll hold a ceremony once I return to Jade Capital. As for children, I’ll leave it to fate. It would be best if we had one. But if not, we can adopt.”

“Who asked about children?” Qi Jiaoyao rolled her eyes behind the mask. “Your life seems pretty good—settling down, building a career, everything looking bright.”

Since the lighting was somewhat dim, part of Qi Xuansu’s face was hidden in the shadows. After hesitating briefly, he said, “It really is good. I’m quite satisfied.”

Qi Jiaoyao asked, “Then why leave a good life behind and risk everything to come to Lingshan Paradise?”

Qi Xuansu replied, “I came here because I want to preserve that good life.”

Before Qi Jiaoyao could press further, Qi Xuansu countered, “What about you? Is your life so unsatisfactory that you came here to seek danger?”

Qi Jiaoyao said, “Life is but 100 years. To me, the process matters more than the result. If what I love is exploring the unknown and searching for treasures, and I can derive value and a sense of self-fulfillment from it, then the act itself has meaning. If developing within the Daoist Order is merely for gaining power, then what is power ultimately for? Power itself is only a means, not an end. In short, I have a grand plan that is in need of some startup capital, so I came to the Lingshan Paradise to try my luck.”

Qi Xuansu chuckled. “You want to sell the Longevity Stone Heart? Who would dare buy it?”

Qi Jiaoyao replied, “Plenty of people! Not to mention those Ancient Immortals, even the Li family within the Daoist Order would dare to buy it. Others might fear the Yao family, but the Li family certainly doesn’t. They’ve always been generous too, so I’m sure they’d offer a price that’s hard to refuse.”

While they spoke, the corridor came to an end.

The corridor connected to a magnificent underground structure. At a glance, Qi Xuansu saw a grand hall covering more than one hectare, completely open and without a single supporting pillar, defying most architectural conventions.

It was obvious that some form of magical technique had been used.

Qi Xuansu even suspected that this might be a miniature sub-pocket realm.

Given Elder Yao’s level of cultivation, creating a pocket realm would not be difficult.

Various items lay scattered chaotically throughout the hall. The most common were tables and blueprints, along with stacks of notes and scrolls piled everywhere. Racks held unknown objects, and there were massive devices whose purposes were unclear—some metallic, some stone, and others composed of some sort of flesh-like material.

It was clear that Elder Yao favored a freewheeling style. The items were not necessarily thrown about randomly, but organization was certainly not a priority.

At the center of the hall stood a well, about 10 meters in diameter, fitted with a railing.

Qi Xuansu and Qi Jiaoyao approached the well. Leaning over and looking down, they could see nothing but darkness. Its depth was immeasurable.

Qi Jiaoyao said, “This seems to be a special area modeled after the well in the Demon-Vanquishing Cave, used to imprison certain experimental subjects. But it’s empty now. I don’t know whether they were destroyed or relocated.”

Qi Xuansu clicked his tongue. “The Lingshan Paradise is basically one enormous testing ground.”

“What did you expect?” Qi Jiaoyao snorted. “Back when the Creation Project was underway, Jianxiu Mountain was its core hub, but it was simply too small, so it was mainly used for storing important records. Although the Holy Xuan allocated a large area within the Kunlun Paradise for the Quanzhen Sect, that was still the central territory of the Daoist Order. Experiments that were too destructive or morally questionable couldn’t be conducted there. The ruined yet vast Lingshan Paradise then became the most suitable place for such experiments. After Elder Yao became the Earthly Preceptor, she gradually relocated some special facilities from the Kunlun Paradise here.”

Qi Xuansu said, “This place seems to be a relic from that era. I just wonder why it was abandoned.”

Qi Jiaoyao walked over to a nearby table and casually flipped through the documents on it. “These are all discarded drafts. Some of the concepts or designs have already been realized and put into use today, so these are basically just waste paper. After all, the real valuable materials are kept at Jianxiu Mountain.”

Meanwhile, Qi Xuansu looked around the place, feeling a surge of mixed emotions.

The Daoist Order had succeeded in making the pie bigger, and the Creation Project deserved immense credit for that. Yet this was only a small fragment of the overall endeavor, perhaps not even 1% of its entirety. Across Lingshan Paradise, Kunlun Paradise, Jianxiu Mountain, and Difei Mountain, who knew how many similar sites existed?

If the Daoist Order wished to continue developing, expanding the pie using limited resources was no longer feasible in the short term. So where should they go from here?

Yao Pei still insisted on expanding the pie, while Zhang Yuelu advocated changing how it was divided, and Li Changge supported stealing another’s pie. Qi Xuansu himself proposed seeking more raw materials in a relatively moderate way to make a second pie.

In truth, Qi Xuansu did not wholeheartedly believe in this concept. He knew that even if new resources were found, they would only offer temporary relief and could never be sustained long-term. Fundamentally, the distribution system still needed to change.

However, if he wished to compete for the position of Grand Master, other strategic positions had already been claimed by others, leaving him no choice but to occupy this niche that remained temporarily vacant.

So where were these new resources?

The New Continent.