Where Immortals Once Walked

The two burly mandrills remained silent.

“My nephew was struck only once, and bitten once.” Old Ge was no softhearted ape itself; it had taken a considerable number of lives with its own hands, and it was something of an expert when it came to examining wounds. “From a rough judgment, the killer’s mouth was lined with dense, fine teeth, not fangs like ours.”

It opened its mouth wide, revealing four massive fangs.

“Could it have been a prisoner?”

“I doubt. I remember my nephew letting something slip once. He said he’d been working beneath Zhimi Peak. That’s one of the subsidiary peaks of Tianshu Peak. It’s as bleak as can be, not a single building in sight. I asked a few more questions out of curiosity, and he clammed up immediately.”

He Lingchuan pondered. “If the work there was that dangerous, has anyone else from the Heavenly Palace gone missing over the years?”

Old Ge glared at him. “A friend told me not to pry any further. The secrets of the Heavenly Palace, I can’t afford to bear that burden.”

He Lingchuan was a clever man. He knew exactly what should be asked and what must be left alone. Thus, the line of inquiry ended here.

“Oh, right, you asked about Fang Canran, the chief steward of Dun Garden last time, didn’t you?” Old Ge worked efficiently. “I asked around. His family settled in Lingxu City seventy years ago. There’s no way to trace anything past that. It’s already quite far back.”

“What did his family do for a living?”

“A bit of everything. When they first arrived, they had some money, so they opened a fabric shop and a tailor’s store. They ran those for over a decade, but then something must’ve gone wrong. They couldn’t keep it up and had to sell the shops and switch trades.” Old Ge ticked off the history on its fingers. “After that, they worked as accountants, ran private schools, opened more shops, but then they failed again... until Fang Canran’s uncle went back into business and finally found some success. That’s when he brought Fang Canran into the trade. And well, Fang Canran turned out to be far more capable. At a young age, he built up achievements far beyond his uncle.”

The Golden Horn Clan was a prestigious clan on the floating islands. Managing their assets meant Fang Canran was essentially a top-tier professional steward, with both prestige and wealth in hand.

He Lingchuan nodded. “Hm, it seems his ancestors have blessed him.”

Whether Fang Canran’s ancestors had anything to do with Shao Jian, that remained unknown.

Seventy years were enough to obscure any outsider’s trace. If the Fang Family wished to conceal their origins, others would find it difficult to dig anything up.

It seemed this line of indirect probing had reached its limit.

He Lingchuan took out another silver ingot. “Old Ge, I need your help again.”

The gleaming silver changed everything. Old Ge straightened up and said, “Just say the word!”

Strangers the first time, acquaintances by the second, and by the third, practically friends.

Of course, this was mostly because He Lingchuan paid generously.

After listening to his request, Old Ge laughed and said, “So it’s just running some errands and delivering messages? I thought it was going to be something difficult. Leave it to me from now on.”

“My thanks.”

Next, He Lingchuan would need to investigate the Ke Family and the divine object.

That was nearly two hundred years in the past, something that could be considered ancient history even in Lingxu City. Few would know, and fewer still would be willing to tell him.

Fortunately, he had someone he could ask.

After returning to the Mount Pan Residence and finishing his meal, He Lingchuan shut himself in his room, securing doors and windows. Only then did he take out an object from his storage ring.

This object was none other than the leaf from the Dao-Seeking Tree on Tianshu Peak.

For others, the tree divined fortune and misfortune by giving green leaves or red ones—at most, a half-red, half-green leaf.

But the leaf he received... was gold-red.

Red, green, gold-red or yellow-red... Heh, just what sort of crossroads am I standing at?

He Lingchuan studied the leaf for a long while but detected no fluctuations of any divine technique. Aside from its beauty, it was just an ordinary leaf.

Old Ge had said that most visitors simply took the leaves home as souvenirs.

From a color-mixing perspective, red plus green equals yellow.

Could it mean his fate oscillated endlessly between fortune and disaster, too complex to summarize, yet ultimately trending toward misfortune, so the Dao-Seeking Tree simply gave him this result?

Symbolically, yellow leaves also meant withering.

Damn it. I don’t want to die.

He had heard that Hong Chenglue had also received a yellow leaf, but that leaf had been pure yellow, so it was not quite the same as his. If given the chance, He Lingchuan wanted to ask Hong Chenglue whether the tree’s indications were accurate.

Many great figures of the Grand Return Sect, including Venerable Muling, who was the master of Perfected Dongli, had reportedly passed away beneath that tree. Were their divination abilities even greater than Perfected Dongli’s, who had comprehended the Flowing Water Anthology?

The divine bone amulet, ever greedy, pulsed with heat.

Finding nothing new, He Lingchuan fed the leaf to it.

The gold-red leaf vanished with a whoosh. He scowled at the divine bone amulet, “You’re like a gluttonous pixiu[1]—only taking, never giving. Always hungry, never producing anything useful!” At least, other than that cheap imitation Dragon Punishment Pillar.

His situation was delicate and dangerous. He needed help badly, yet this thing was utterly useless.

What exactly can the Generous Pot do? It clearly drives Lingxu City mad, but why?

Night fell with wind and rain. Too lazy to move, he simply sprawled onto the bed and slept.

He hoped to enter Panlong City again, to investigate the past of the Ke Family and the divine artifact, to find direction for what lay ahead.

* * *

Darkness surrounded him.

Am I back in the Panlong Soul Land? The sensation was strange to He Lingchuan. He was not quite seeing with his eyes, yet everything around him was clear.

He seemed to be inside a vast cavern, with jagged rocks layered all around him. The exit lay over fifteen meters away.

That meant the light source was far off.

The cave was damp. Occasionally, droplets fell from the ceiling, splashing against stone with a hollow plops.

Where am I?

He Lingchuan wanted to move closer to the exit, but he could not move at all.

Time passed, and he did not know how long.

Suddenly, the light at the mouth of the cave dimmed. Someone entered, looked down at him, and said, “A tree with spirituality, so tenacious, yet trapped here. What a pity.”

Only then did He Lingchuan realize—

He was a frail little tree. Just two pitiful branches, leaves growing and falling.

The figure turned and left.

Moments later, a bolt of brilliance flashed overhead.

The mountain peak collapsed. The cave ceiling vanished, sheared away by a single sword strike.

For the first time in hundreds of thousands of years, sunlight poured into the cavern.

Bathed in sunlight, the little tree trembled gently in the wind. This was its first taste of a breeze.

The swordsman stood among the rocks and smiled. “Grow well. Our sect is fated with you.”

The sun rose and fell, storms came and went, seasons cycled countless times.

He Lingchuan’s perspective expanded, and he was soon no longer bound solely to the tree’s body. It was as though he were viewing the entire mountain in a sweeping panorama.

This mountain looks familiar, especially that peak with its top cut clean off—

Wait! Isn’t this Tianji Peak?

Wait, then was I inhabiting the Dao-Seeking Tree in its youth? And the one who had freed it, that should be... Immortal Shou’an?

As the tree grew, its spiritual awareness spread far and wide.

It outpaced all other trees, breaking free from the cave and spreading its branches.

Back then, the peak was called Dao-Seeking Peak.

Disciples of the Grand Return Sect gathered beneath it—chatting, laughing, practicing swordsmanship, contemplating the Dao. Immortals set up altars here, teaching and preaching.

The Dao-Seeking Tree listened silently.

Many among them could soar through the air, riding artifacts upon the wind.

Then one day, dark clouds blanketed the mountain, covering not just Mount Shou’an but the entire territory of the Grand Return Sect.

Something stirred within the clouds. It occasionally revealed its beginning and end, and eventually, it was revealed to be a ferocious demon god.

The Grand Return Sect ordered all disciples to attack. Countless streaks of light shot upward from the ground instantly, piercing the heavens.

It was a spectacle He Lingchuan had never seen before.

The first great battle lasted half a month. Over a hundred disciples of the Grand Return Sect fell in that battle.

And that was only the beginning.

Soon after, terrifying bolts of lightning descended from the sky, striking the Dao-Seeking Tree.

It was blasted into charred wood. Its spiritual awareness vanished, and darkness returned.

When vision came back, much time had already passed. Dao-Seeking Peak had changed completely.

Once lush and verdant, it was now barren and scarred. There were ravines everywhere, as though scoured by lava. Hardly any vegetation remained. The few surviving trees were withered, yellowing, and barely alive.

Immortal Shou’an was gone. Several elders of the Grand Return Sect stood beneath the tree, debating whether to cut it down.

“It’s been tainted with demonic blood. It might become some horror and start eating people.”

“Other spirit trees that touched demonic blood either wither or become twisted horrors. If Uncle-Master Shou’an knew this tree became something like that, he’d be heartbroken.”

“But hasn’t it remained unchanged? There are always exceptions! Don’t forget, even when it was struck by lightning, we carried its leaves with us and used them to block Mulian’s divine technique, Eye of Truth. That’s how we infiltrated Mulian’s body and defeated him! The tree’s resilience surpasses that of humans!” One elder argued firmly. “After such a catastrophe, few spiritual beings remain. If it can survive the corruption, it’s a blessing to our sect.”

Others asked, “How so?”

“Heaven and earth spirit qi is dwindling. Who among us can outlive it?” The elder smiled. “A thousand years from now, it may still shelter our sect.”

Thus, the Dao-Seeking Tree was spared.

Another thousand years passed.

The scars of the Heavenly Demon vanished, and Mount Shou’an was green again.

The elders who had debated its fate were long gone. Now, only the Dao-Seeking Tree remained, ever lush and flourishing.

Its aerial roots thickened, wrapping around the cave of its origin, forming a nested marvel—tree within cave, cave within tree.

Following the sect’s teachings, disciples revered it deeply. Many powerful figures passed away beneath it.

At that time, the peak master was Venerable Muling.

He had a pointed skull, blotched pale skin, and perpetually narrowed eyes. It was difficult to tell whether he was awake or asleep.

He was plain in appearance, lacking the bearing of a sage. And yet, every member of the Grand Return Sect treated him with the utmost respect.

1. I should’ve already written a note about this before, but this is a creature of Chinese mythology, and you can read about it more here. ☜