Chapter Seventy-Four: The Interrogation

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Now, both inside and outside are tightly sealed off.

Cultivators outside either know nothing of the matter, or are blocked by the army from entering.

As for those within, any cultivator capable of reaching the Second Heaven would not be ignorant of what transpired at Mount Fuzhong.

Why, then, would anyone still inquire about Mount Fuzhong?

Qingyuan, seeing his confusion, maintained his composure and replied calmly, “I have been cultivating behind closed doors for many days, and only emerged today. Upon hearing the news of divine thunder descending upon Mount Fuzhong, I came specifically to inquire about it.”

Hong Song regarded him with a long, searching look, suspicion still flickering in his eyes.

After some thought, he decided that, while not common knowledge, these details were hardly secrets and were well known among the cultivators of Luoyue County, so he spoke frankly.

“When the divine thunder descended, it split into myriad forms—various thunder arts, techniques, spells, and even nascent treasures were left behind. In essence, it is as White Jiye described in his letter.”

Qingyuan paused, then asked, “Who is currently found within Mount Fuzhong? And if I wish to enter, how might I do so?”

“Well…” Hong Song stroked his beard, pondering his words. “My own cultivation is shallow, so I cannot say I know all. Ever since the divine thunder fell upon Mount Fuzhong, any mortal who touches it perishes instantly; as for cultivators, those with too high a cultivation risk provoking the thunder’s wrath. Already, a cultivator of the Fifth Heaven entered, dueled another within, stirred the mountain’s energies, and was then struck by dozens of bolts, forcing him to flee, grievously wounded.”

“After the arrival of the Orthodox Daoist Sect, cultivators above the Third Heaven were forbidden from entering. Later, five mysterious and powerful Daoists sealed Mount Fuzhong with great magic and set up formations.”

“Originally, no one above the Third Heaven was allowed to step foot in Mount Fuzhong, but with the Orthodox Daoist Sect’s formation in place, the mountain has stabilized. Now, even those of the Fourth Heaven may enter.”

Hong Song mused, “Many entered then—the highest at Fourth Heaven, the lowest at Second. As for those like myself, shallow in cultivation and little different from ordinary folk, we have no chance to vie for the thunder, so we withdrew.”

Qingyuan glanced outside and smiled. “So, Master Hong Song, you invited Xu Xiao here to attempt entry into Mount Fuzhong, didn’t you?”

Hong Song sighed at that. “Indeed. My hope was to bring him with me, to have his protection and aid in the struggle. As a cultivator, I could try to subdue the divine thunder for my own use.”

Qingyuan nodded in understanding—so that was why Xu Xiao had attacked him so fiercely upon first meeting, eager to prove himself in front of Hong Song.

“Upon meeting you today, I realize I was too naive. Cultivators above the Second Heaven are not so easily dealt with.”

Hong Song shook his head, stroking his white beard. “In truth, it was but an attempt. Even the entryway has turned back many who are at the Second Heaven. I guessed that perhaps one needs enough martial strength and innate understanding. I thought, perhaps together with Xu Xiao, we might complement each other and make a go of it.”

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Qingyuan frowned. “The entryway?”

Hong Song replied, “The five elders of the Orthodox Daoist Sect set up a formation and sent in ten disciples. They do not bar other cultivators, but at the entrance, they have placed a barrier. Only those who can pass through may enter.”

Qingyuan pondered. “Where is this barrier?”

Hong Song pointed ahead. “Just behind Luoyue County, at the foot of Mount Fuzhong.”

Qingyuan considered silently—so that was now the only entry point to Mount Fuzhong.

The mountain is now sealed by a formation; its surroundings strictly forbidden. Only Luoyue County serves as the entrance.

This is why those cultivators aligned with Southern Liang have mobilized tens of thousands of troops to guard the entrance, and thus, the whole of Mount Fuzhong.

“I had planned to go to Yan Tower tomorrow, to discuss with the other Daoists how to break the formation and enter Mount Fuzhong. It seems now I was overconfident.”

Hong Song glanced at him. “Yan Tower has become a gathering place for cultivators—most are at the Second Heaven, but nearly all have been turned back at the entrance. So they gather, discussing its mysteries, hoping to break through on another attempt.”

Qingyuan nodded slightly and clasped his hands in gratitude. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” Hong Song replied, gently stroking his beard. “In the past, quiet cultivation revealed little, but recent events have shown me that ‘the strong prey on the weak’ is as true among cultivators as anywhere. You are stronger and more skilled than I—the fate of my life rests in your hands. How could I dare withhold or speak falsely?”

Qingyuan said with some surprise, “You see things very clearly, elder.”

A bitter look crossed Hong Song’s face, and he fell silent.

Qingyuan made his farewell. “Then, I shall take my leave.”

“Wait…” Hong Song’s gaze flickered; he felt this young man was different from the others. After a moment’s thought, he said, “I have a small request.”

Qingyuan paused. “What is it?”

Hong Song looked outside and sighed. “The former abbot still possessed some magic, but was mortally wounded before he could pass down our teachings, and died. The temple’s inheritance is nearly broken.”

“I believe I am not without talent, yet after decades of cultivation, I have scarcely gathered a single breath of true energy. Zhengben, this child, will surely follow in my footsteps if things continue as they are. That is why I was willing to risk my life in Mount Fuzhong—my own years are few, but for the sake of the temple’s legacy, I wished to try.”

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He set his horsetail whisk on the table and shook his head. “Now I see it was a frog at the bottom of a well’s dream—too fantastical.”

With those words, he bowed deeply.

“I beg you, friend, take Zhengben as your disciple. Teach him one method—give him a shred of hope.”

He bent his knees, about to kneel.

Qingyuan quickly supported him, shaking his head. “I do not take disciples.”

Hong Song’s eyes dimmed, and he was about to speak.

Qingyuan shook his head. “The Dao must not be passed on lightly, and you already possess a method. There’s no need for me to teach. However, I do have a simple technique here—if mastered, it is enough to reach the Third Heaven.”

Hong Song was stunned.

This young man would not take a disciple, yet would simply grant a cultivation method?

Qingyuan took a booklet from his robe—it had been seized from the remnants of the Beast Taming Sect, and both he and Gu Cang had long since memorized it. Keeping it was now pointless, and besides, it was too basic for him.

“Your temple’s only flaw is an incomplete method; in other matters, there’s no need for instruction.”

Qingyuan said gravely, “I questioned you and now give you a method in return. Our karma is settled, and we owe each other nothing.”

Hong Song was overjoyed.

When he looked up again, the young man had already departed.

“My own hope of advancement is gone, but Zhengben may yet have a chance.”

Hong Song bowed deeply in the direction Qingyuan had gone.