A Pawn's Passage

After leaving Beichen Hall, Zhang Yuelu did not stop thinking.

Qi Xuansu often said that the more one emphasized something, the more it revealed what was lacking.

The Confucian School had proclaimed hierarchical order for countless years, yet aside from a few families like the Zhangs and the Confucian Sage’s descendants, the Central Plains rarely had noble families lasting a few centuries. However, on the Western Continent, it was common to have aristocratic families spanning a millennium. Who truly upheld a stricter hierarchy?

The Daoist Order emphasized equality, but could it truly exist? Could distinctions of rank and status truly disappear?

One could not possibly equate the Grand Master with an ordinary Daoist believer.

People of the Central Plains valued moderation because they were anything but. In Zhang Yuelu’s view, people of the Central Plains tended to push things to extremes. Back then, during the famine, some commoners sold their children and even resorted to cannibalism. Those at the top could have eased tensions by relinquishing a small portion of their wealth and giving others a chance for survival, yet they refused. They would rather cling to vast riches and await ruin than allow even a crumb to slip through their fingers to the lower classes. To them, giving money to the poor was a sin.

Conversely, resistance was equally extreme. When people rose in rebellion, they sought to eradicate evil completely. Entire clans would be exterminated, reducing enemies to ashes. Imperial treasuries burned to cinders, and noble bones were trampled along the streets.

Neither side left any room for compromise. Thus, reformists who advocated yielding some benefits rarely met a good end. After all, taking away someone’s wealth was akin to killing their parents.

As a moderate reformist, could Zhang Yuelu truly carry her ideals through?

It would be difficult.

In truth, both her proposals and Yao Pei’s were difficult to realize, at least in the short term. By contrast, Qi Xuansu’s and Li Changge’s visions were easier to implement, since a New Continent lay right before them. The two men’s disagreement was merely about the degree of intervention and methods of distribution, with the former being more moderate, while the latter was extreme.

Simply put, Zhang Yuelu and Yao Pei sought solutions inwardly, whereas Qi Xuansu and Li Changge looked outward for answers.

Just like their respective lineages, Zhang Yuelu and Yao Pei were natural-born Banished Immortals who relied on themselves, while Qi Xuansu and Li Changge were manmade Banished Immortals who relied on external forces.

Just as Zhang Yuelu was deep in thought, a sudden commotion drew her attention.

At this moment, Zhang Yuelu was on the way to her new home in Taishang Place, intending to stop by and check on the progress of the mansion’s renovations.

Although renovations had been ongoing for nearly two years, the two had made additional changes according to their personal preferences—funded by Zhang Yuelu, since Qi Xuansu had no money. Thus, construction was still not finished. Now, it had entered the final stages, mainly focused on the garden and surrounding structures. Considering that many Western cathedrals took over a century to complete, this delay seemed reasonable.

Xu Jiaorong and Lei Xiaohuan were accompanying Zhang Yuelu, intending to see the new residence, so the three were riding together in a single carriage.

Xu Jiaorong signaled for the carriage to stop and lifted a corner of the curtain to look outside.

A crowd had gathered on Shangqing Street, shouting loudly.

After listening for a moment, Xu Jiaorong lowered the curtain.

“What’s going on?” Lei Xiaohuan asked while flipping through a booklet. With the hearing of a Martial Arts Practitioner, she could have easily picked up even the noise of earthworms turning the soil. But most of the time, just as Martial Arts Practitioners suppressed their blood qi to avoid harming others, they also sealed their sensitive hearing to filter out most unnecessary noise. Otherwise, the countless sounds would drive them mad. Thus, Lei Xiaohuan had not heard what the people outside were shouting.

Zhang Yuelu, who was lost in thought, was the same.

Xu Jiaorong replied, “Nothing major. A group is protesting the Daoist Order’s slaughter of flood dragons. From what I heard, they’ve raised it to a broader moral issue, claiming that humans are arrogant, seeing ourselves as the rulers of the world and enslaving other living beings at will.”

Lei Xiaohuan snorted. “A bunch of idle flowerbed Daoists with nothing better to do. They’ve had it too easy. Flood dragons haven’t eaten people for a few centuries, and now, they suddenly start pitying the dragons? Talking about enslaving other beings—by their logic, we shouldn’t use oxen or horses either. Let’s see how they’ll like it if they pull carts and grind mills themselves. If they lost the Daoist Order’s protection and their comfortable greenhouse, they wouldn’t have the leisure for this nonsense.”

“Don’t say that. It sounds bad. Besides, isn’t this precisely what people call being civilized?” Zhang Yuelu said.

Lei Xiaohuan said, “Aren’t humans the masters of the world now? How is that arrogance? It’s a simple fact. When it comes to enslavement, who has been enslaved more harshly than humans themselves? To put it bluntly, people treat their own kind like this, let alone other creatures. When the plains of West Shakya were dyed white with bones, they showed no sympathy. When the natives of the New Continent were scalped, they felt nothing. But now, they pity flood dragons who command wind and rain, acting as though their hearts are breaking. Isn’t that hypocrisy?”

Xu Jiaorong nodded. “That is indeed the reality. When prosperous, one helps the world. When poor, one can only preserve oneself. So many people’s basic food and livelihood issues remain unresolved, and caring for the elderly is still a major challenge. Humans haven’t even managed to secure our own well-being, yet they want to worry about flood dragons and oppose the exploitation of other beings.”

Lei Xiaohuan said, “To put it bluntly, how many people died and how much blood was shed for the Daoist Order’s development? Survival was carved out from countless deaths. These people stand on the foundation laid by their predecessors, enjoying the shade planted by earlier generations, yet they criticize those same predecessors for pursuing development at the expense of harmony between heaven and man. Without flood dragons’ bones to build flying ships, how would we have ruled Fenglin and Poluo? Without overseas territories, what gives them the luxury to stand here protesting the slaughter of flood dragons? They’d already been sent into the jungles of Poluo. Compared to lands laid waste with people eating one another, which is better—harmony with heaven or survival? They eat from the bowl, then curse the one who filled it.”

Xu Jiaorong joked. “It’s just a Western conspiracy. Keeping slaves isn’t a sin, but eating meat sends you to the deepest depths of hell.”

Zhang Yuelu lifted the curtain and looked outside, saying nothing.

Both sides had their own valid arguments. Yet in the end, priorities had to be distinguished—human beings had always been the central issue.

......

After three days of travel within the Lingshan Paradise, Qi Xuansu and Qi Jiaoyao were drawing closer to the main peak of Lingshan. Strictly speaking, the peak had begun to collapse, leaving countless shattered mountains, boulders, and building remnants suspended in midair, drifting slowly like dust visible in sunlight.

The mortal world had now entered the Taiji Era, becoming increasingly real and stable. Even Immortals found it difficult to truly move mountains or pluck stars. But a pocket realm differed from the mortal realm. Its interior resembled the Taichu and Taishi Eras, where altering the environment was relatively easier, and traces of such changes lasted much longer. The floating ruins and lingering thunderclouds were proof of this.

The closer they came to the main peak, the more warped fractures appeared in space, like a vast net covering Lingshan, forcing them to proceed with great caution.

This peak was Lingshan. Qi Xuansu had seen it before in a dream, though then it had been abstract, like a rough sketch, far less vivid and concrete than it appeared now.

When they were about 150 kilometers from the main peak, Qi Jiaoyao stopped and raised her hand to stop Qi Xuansu. “Beyond this point is Elder Yao’s restriction. Strictly speaking, these were originally restrictions of the Wuist Sect, but they were destroyed by the Heavenly Preceptor and later restored by Elder Yao on that foundation.

“In essence, it’s like a moat, similar to the Grand Illusion at Yuxu Peak. However, the Grand Illusion has been sealed for many years, so you probably haven’t seen it. Once trapped within this restriction, you’ll be forced into endless repetition. If you fail to realize you’re caught in an infinite loop, you’ll unconsciously repeat the same actions over and over until you’re completely assimilated, unable to break free.”

After hearing Qi Jiaoyao’s explanation, Qi Xuansu immediately recalled his experience in Fenglin. Tsukuyomi had once used a similar technique to trap him, and he had only escaped thanks to Master Yin’s intervention.

Qi Xuansu asked, “In that case, how did you escape back then?”

Qi Jiaoyao replied, “The Lingshan Paradise is already badly damaged. Even after Elder Yao repaired it, the loop is no longer flawless and contains many gaps. I couldn’t break through to the other side of the restriction, but I managed to escape.”

Qi Xuansu continued, “Elder Yao set up this restriction to guard against outsiders. Those on the inside can’t possibly force their way through every time, so there should be some kind of key or permissions.”

Qi Jiaoyao shook her head. “I’m not sure. I didn’t even know beforehand that Elder Yao had restored this restriction. If I had known, I would’ve prepared myself instead of rushing in blindly.”

Qi Xuansu fell silent for a moment before saying, “How about this—I’ll go first and scout to see if I can get through. I’m not afraid that this place will trap me because I have the means to save my life.”

Qi Jiaoyao immediately raised a practical concern. “What if you’re lucky and break through directly? What will happen to me? You won’t just abandon me, will you? We’ve shared life-and-death experiences!”

Qi Xuansu did not brush her off. Instead, he said, “Then we can go together. If things go wrong, I’ll leave the Lingshan Paradise immediately, but you’ll have to take care of yourself.”

Qi Jiaoyao began an internal struggle.

In the end, she gritted her teeth and made up her mind. “Alright, we’ll go together. I’m betting you’re lucky enough to carry me through in one try. If not, you can still shatter the void with your fists. Even if you leave Lingshan Paradise, I’m not afraid. I escaped once before, so I know the way. Now, I also have the Bone-Illuminating Mirror, so I’m sure I can escape another time.”

“Then let’s enter the formation,” Qi Xuansu said, stepping forward first.