Chapter Seventy-Three: The Emergence of the Immortal Abode

“Daoists are always talking about fate and virtue. Since we now hold the successor of the Lingwei Sect, why not also contest for the moral high ground?” The Demon Consort’s laughter echoed through the grand hall as the others exchanged glances and nodded in agreement.

“But those demon-subduing artifacts—we, the Radiant Sun Sect, will be taking them.”

“Taking them? Are you, Young Master, not giving any consideration to our Toad Palace?” retorted a soft-featured man across from him. “Those demon-subduing artifacts are of great significance to all four demon sects. Why should your southern sect have them?”

Both the Toad Palace and the Radiant Sun Sect were once branches of an ancient lineage, now split. Competing for legitimacy, they had been waging both open and covert struggles for years. The set of demon-subduing treasures mentioned by Tu Shan was deeply connected to the ancient split of the demon sects.

“Because we can toss those things into a volcano and burn them to ashes. What about you? Take them to the ice caves? What if someone takes them away?”

“The Far North is bitterly cold, inhospitable to all life. If we throw them there, the freezing winds will shatter and erase them—why not?”

Ji Feichen’s heart stirred as he recalled the legend of “Meeting the Dark Underworld in the Far North.” The far north was said to be haunted by the mysterious Underworld, whose nature remained a mystery to this day. But perhaps, if the artifacts were cast there, they might truly be destroyed.

Sensing the two factions about to quarrel, others hurried to smooth things over. “Either way, both sides mean to destroy the demon-subduing treasures. Whoever gets them must pledge to destroy them, and that’s that. Each side takes half, destroys them in their own lands—it’s better than one side keeping everything and having the Daoists snatch them away. As long as the set is incomplete, it poses little threat to our Primordial Dao.”

The two demon sects ceased their argument for the time being and began stating their own demands. The Black Pool Master listed six rare treasures. The others’ eyes gleamed, suspecting he was trying to sow confusion.

Even Ling Feng, his disciple, didn’t know which material the Black Pool Master truly needed. “My uncle is too cautious. No one knows what he has or what he lacks. But Tu Shan has probably contacted him already. I wonder if the Spirit Egg is in his hands.”

The Black Pool Master had been preparing for alchemy for decades, quietly amassing materials and spreading false leads. Outsiders had no idea what he actually needed now. The Lord of Kanming Hall had sent Ji Feichen to infiltrate, hoping to discover these secrets.

After reaching an agreement, the group resumed their revelry. Sensing the old habits of the demons resurfacing, Ji Feichen slipped away and wandered through the Ganlu Palace.

As Ji Feichen strolled through the Jade Palace, he admired the meandering golden railings inlaid with jade, the eight-tiered pavilions with vermilion pillars and turquoise tiles. Between the pavilions stood statues of auspicious beasts—kirin, coiling dragons—so lifelike they seemed about to move, each sealed with the spirits of beast souls. Should enemies invade, they could be summoned as guardian spirits, no less formidable than the stone suanni at Ji Feichen’s own immortal mansion.

“The Ganlu Palace is truly grand, worthy of the vast resources and manpower of the former dynasty’s imperial seat.”

After wandering for some time, Ji Feichen arrived at the palace’s core—Chengtian Terrace.

Heaven’s will descends, ten thousand years of prosperity.

This Chengtian Terrace was built at the Demon Consort’s behest to beguile the former emperor. It could connect to the heavenly path, strengthening divination and augury for cultivators, and could receive celestial dew to nurture spiritual brilliance. The former emperor, longing for immortality and the mandate of heaven, had it built as she wished.

This place was more exquisitely constructed than anywhere else. The entire terrace was paved with white jade and adorned with agate, rising thirty-three zhang high, consuming countless resources and lives.

“In modern measure, one zhang is about three meters. This terrace is a hundred meters tall. Who knows how many bones lie buried beneath it?”

Legend says that on the day it was completed, the dynasty held a great ceremony to divine the nation’s fate. The first omen revealed by the terrace foretold the dynasty’s destruction.

Moonlight and starlight poured into the terrace from above, streaming into the cloud-piercing columns. Ji Feichen looked on with envy.

Now, the Demon Consort used Chengtian Terrace to draw in the essence of sun and moon. The columns held accumulated celestial dew, moon’s essence, and even jets of crimson vapor—the pure yang water, forming only a single drop each year.

“With Chengtian Terrace under her control, the Demon Consort will never want for riches or spiritual materials.”

Having seen enough, Ji Feichen continued his tour and, by chance, encountered the Demon Consort’s disciple, who was also seeking solitude in the gardens.

The young woman stood by the lake, gazing at the shimmering water. Stars and moon reflected above, golden lotuses and red water lilies blooming across the surface. Suddenly sensing something, she turned. “Who’s there?”

Ji Feichen stepped out with composure. “Ji Feichen of the Underworld Sect. We met in the hall earlier. May I ask your name?”

“Tao Wanru, disciple of Lady Ganlu.”

After exchanging greetings, silence fell between them. Only a few nightingales sang amid the budding spring willows in the distance.

At last, Ji Feichen broke the awkwardness. “Do you remember your past life?”

“No.”

“Then why…”

“You want to know, since I know I was a Daoist in my past life, why am I now helping my master seize the Immortal Mansion?”

“Yes,” Ji Feichen replied, realizing his question might be inappropriate, so he added, “How do I know this isn’t a trap set by you and the Daoists?”

At this, Tao Wanru looked at him, her eyes bright and piercing. “It’s simple. I want to avenge my parents. The past life is the past—I have no memory of it. If handing over the Immortal Mansion lets me exact revenge in this life, why shouldn’t I?”

“So long as I can have my revenge, the Lingwei Immortal Mansion means nothing. You can take it if you like.” Her expression was cold, and Ji Feichen, using her as a focus for his calculations, finally understood her origins.

He recalled the saying: “Heaven and earth are impartial, treating all things as straw dogs.” All beings are equal before heaven and earth—one cannot choose one’s parents in this life after reincarnation.

The girl’s parents had been demon cultivators, killed by Daoists for their practices. Yet they had been good to their daughter, so she harbored a grudge against their killers and apprenticed herself to the Demon Consort.

“My parents were slain by Daoists. I would never join them. Are you satisfied? Tomorrow, please do your best alongside the others to help my master win the Immortal Mansion.” She rose, passed by him, and without looking, slipped the lotus she’d picked into his hand.

“A stubborn one, indeed,” Ji Feichen muttered, watching her retreat. With a flick, he dropped the lotus back into the water.

The red lotus stood tall, swaying in the moonlight. Ji Feichen lingered by the pond, pondering his strategy for the coming day.

Sleepless through the night, the next day the demons prepared themselves for a direct confrontation with the Daoists.

The two sides gathered in a valley, where golden light and azure haze swirled, and layers of golden palaces and purple halls shimmered in and out of view.

“This Immortal Mansion is far grander than my humble abode,” Ji Feichen mused, realizing its emergence was near. He hurried to bury the Jade Tide Pearls in the water, then returned to his sect’s group.

Zheng Qiong questioned, “Junior Brother, where have you been?”

“Nowhere special, just looking around. I find it odd that the eastern and western sects haven’t shown up.”

“Better if they don’t,” muttered someone from the Radiant Sun Sect. “If they come, we’ll just have another fight on our hands.”

Discord among the four great demon sects suited everyone’s interests. Otherwise, at their peak, the combined demon sects would rival the holy lands—a bloody struggle for supremacy.

The Demon Consort led her followers to parley with the Daoists. At her approach, the Daoist elders warned their juniors, “Be wary. Guard your minds and don’t be beguiled.”

As soon as she arrived, a Dao Fruit began to rise, and illusory scenes unfolded before the immortals: amidst rainbow mist and crimson haze, a seductive woman appeared.

The younger cultivators felt their minds waver. Jing Xuan secretly activated the “Azure Lotus Technique,” while Zhang Yuanchu silently recited the Dao De Jing. Soft, insidious whispers filled the air, disturbing the Dao Fruits of all present.

“A Dao Fruit of the Earth Immortal level—truly extraordinary,” thought Ji Feichen, who, even from the demon side, felt his own Dao Fruit suppressed.

By his theory, Dao Fruits were like signal towers—the higher the cultivation, the stronger the “signal.” The Demon Consort’s “signal” was so powerful that it interfered with all the other immortals’ Dao Fruits.

At that moment, not only was fate obscured, but even the immortals’ minds were clouded by her charm.

“Enough, Consort!” someone from the Grand Primordial Palace struck a golden bell—its clear tone shook heaven and earth, snapping the immortals from their trance. Behind him appeared his own Dao Fruit: a splendid golden palace, rivaling Ganlu Palace, echoing with the celestial sounds of the Dao, dispelling the Demon Consort’s illusions.

“You demons are here again to seize the Immortal Mansion?”

“No, this time we have come to inherit it.” The Demon Consort, smiling, pushed her disciple forward. “Look, my disciple here is of the Lingwei Immortal Mansion’s bloodline. She sensed her fate was tied to the mansion and begged me to bring her. I thought there might be some unsavory beasts along the way, so I invited my friends as escorts. Surely you, as men of the Dao, aren’t as greedy as those beasts, coveting my disciple’s Immortal Mansion?”

Her words were barbed, and many frowned. Ji Feichen yawned—he found such debates tedious. Would the Daoists really let the demons claim the mansion without a fight? In the end, it would come to blows.

As the arguing continued, the valley mist dispersed. Nine banners unfurled in the wind, then vanished into the Immortal Mansion.

“No more words—let’s go in!” someone from the demon side called, and many rushed toward the mansion.

But before they could enter, thunderbolts rained down from above, forcing them back in disarray. Silver lightning flashed, and dragons rolled in the sky at the valley’s mouth.

The Daoists sneered. Wang Chen of the Grand Primordial Palace said, “Fools. The Lingwei Immortal Mansion was left for their descendants. How could just anyone barge in?”

The Demon Consort studied the mansion’s wards, then turned to her followers. “Those under four hundred years old, born after the Immortal-Demon War, enter with Wanru.”

The Lingwei Sect, foreseeing its destruction, had made preparations. If all their elders died in the war, then anyone over four hundred—who had lived through it—could not be their reincarnation. The mansion’s wards barred those over four hundred from entering.

The Demon Consort believed she could break the wards, but the Daoists would never allow it. Thus, only the younger generation could enter to protect Tao Wanru.

The Black Pool Master told Ling Feng, Zheng Qiong, and Ji Feichen, “You three go in and retrieve the six items I mentioned yesterday.”

“Master, you’re not coming?”

“I fought in the last Immortal-Demon War as well. I cannot enter; I dare not defy the Lingwei wards. Be careful and stick with Tao Wanru—she’s the reincarnation of a Lingwei disciple and must have some special qualities.”

Just then, a beam of demonic light shot into the Immortal Mansion. The immortals tried to stop it, but the figure was too fast, braving their attacks and slipping inside.

“A thief from the Eastern Demon Sect!” The Daoists’ faces changed, and they hurried to pursue, fearing the Eastern Demon Sect would seize the demon-subduing treasures.

The Demon Consort’s brows furrowed, feigning ignorance. “The Eastern Sect is not with us. He was not my guest.”

No sooner had she spoken than someone from the Western Demon Sect barged in as well.

Now she was truly angry. If they wanted to come, they should have come earlier—entering now was a clear slight to her.

She thrust a peacock-feather fan into Tao Wanru’s hands. “Prepare yourself, disciple. Go in with your senior brothers!”

As the demon disciples readied themselves, suddenly a beam of blue radiance streaked into the mansion.

Recognizing it, Jing Xuan and Zhang Yuanchu exchanged glances. “Qinghong? He’s here too?”

“Wandering Immortal Qinghong?” Several Daoists stirred. “Isn’t he the rogue cultivator as skilled as the heirs of the Three Palaces? He’s come too?”

Within the demon group, Ji Feichen stood masked, murderous energy swirling about him. Concealing his efforts to send twenty-four Jade Tide Pearls into the mansion had already drained much of his power.

The blue light was hard to see clearly, but it was Qinghong’s usual technique. Jing Xuan and Zhang Yuanchu naturally assumed he had entered the Lingwei Immortal Mansion as a rogue cultivator.

“If Qinghong has entered, I’ll go in as a demon disciple. A little infighting inside will surely earn sympathy.” Ji Feichen’s calculations whirred as he followed Tao Wanru into the mansion.

No sooner had they entered than firestorms and hurricanes descended, scattering them at once.

Which suited Ji Feichen’s plans—he slipped away in a flash of black light, using the water escape to search for the Jade Tide Pearls he’d planted earlier.

“Let’s hope no one else got to them first, or I’ll have more trouble on my hands.”