Chapter 105: A Gifted Painting

“This secret is known only to the people of Mingzhi Mountain, the sect leader, and the two deputy leaders of Pure Yang and Original Yin. Those who reach the Third Realm or higher are told when they enter old age, but all others remain unaware,” said Wen Sukun.

Hearing this, Cheng Xinzhan’s heart stirred with a thought:

He must ensure these elders never face the day of awakening.

“As for those golden coffins,” Wen Sukun looked toward them, “they contain the remains of emperors from past human dynasties.”

Cheng Xinzhan’s eyelids twitched involuntarily.

Wen Sukun gazed at her disciple and asked, “Do you still remember what the ‘Qingfu Transformation Scripture’ says about Ji Earth corpses?”

Of course, Cheng Xinzhan remembered. He replied, “Ji Earth corpses are zombies, making up eight or nine-tenths of all the wandering corpses in the world. Though easy to become corpses, they rarely rise to great power, except for one kind…”

He suddenly stopped, looking at the golden coffins and then at Wen Sukun.

“There is only one kind called the Imperial Corpse. Once it forms, great calamity follows. It can command all zombies under heaven and overturn yin and yang!”

Wen Sukun nodded.

“Exactly. But if you scour all historical records, have you ever found any mention of Imperial Corpses bringing chaos?”

Cheng Xinzhan shook his head.

“The Imperial Corpse originated with the First Emperor. Before his death, he sought to establish a celestial dynasty, but he also left a hidden contingency—his mausoleum and accompanying burial figurines. He was the first to master the art of nurturing Imperial Corpses.

“The First Emperor wanted to break the convention that human kings could not attain immortality and treat immortals as mere officials, which provoked divine beings to attack. Although he died, he had prepared in advance. After his death, his body was collected and buried in the imperial tomb, where it transformed into an Imperial Corpse leading the army of burial figurines to invade the mortal realm, overturning yin and yang, causing great disaster.

“Later, the celestial beings who had destroyed the celestial dynasty reluctantly returned to subdue the undead, but this episode was never recorded in official histories to prevent future emperors from emulating this.”

Cheng Xinzhan listened intently. He was fond of reading history but had never known of such a secret past.

“However, such a massive calamity involving celestial beings could not remain completely hidden. In later generations, some emperors schemed similarly. The second Imperial Corpse was the last emperor of the Eastern Jin dynasty, but as the Imperial Corpse had just gained awareness, the Three Pure Ones of Mingzhi Mountain detected it, and it was subdued by our sect’s founder who came out of seclusion.

“Afterward, to completely prevent the birth of Imperial Corpses, Mingzhi Mountain took on a new responsibility: any emperor who built grand mausoleums during their reign would have their corpse taken by Mingzhi Mountain after death and suppressed within the mountain.

“Thus, from the Jin to the Ming dynasties, no further Imperial Corpse disasters occurred, and even rumors of them gradually vanished.

“This is the task I have been carrying out, and from now on, you will take over.”

Cheng Xinzhan nodded silently, amazed that such secrets lay beneath Mingzhi Mountain.

“Immortal cultivators are pure; emperors are impure. The founder arranged these coffins into the ‘Great Formation of Twin Serpents and Mystic Turtles,’ intertwining purity and impurity. Anyone below the Celestial Immortal realm who trespasses is pulverized by the formation at first glance.

“Moreover, immortal cultivators’ refusal to transcend is detested by the Heavenly Dao. Suppressing Imperial Corpses to prevent calamities accumulates merit and favor. These forces balance each other, allowing Mingzhi Mountain to endure and the millennial plan of the Three Pure Ones to continue.”

Cheng Xinzhan suddenly understood.

“So, is Mingzhi Mountain enough for your visualization practice?” Wen Sukun asked with a smile.

“Certainly,” Cheng Xinzhan replied without hesitation.

The master and disciple emerged from underground and returned to the mountain. At this moment, Wen Sukun continued,

“The mountains you mentioned—Mount Tai, Mount Lao—are naturally full of yin-yang transformations and celestial phenomena, but the principle remains the same. You yourself know that the Heart Palace and Thunder Palace’s inner spirits must be visualized at a demoted level, and the same applies to Ji Earth.”

Wen Sukun spoke earnestly.

“You don’t need to visualize the Wù Earth mountain as a single peak. Begin with Mingzhi Mountain, then later add the shapes of Mount Tai and Mount Lao into the Earth Palace. If your mental capacity grows larger, why not include the Three Mountains and Five Great Peaks?”

Cheng Xinzhan agreed.

“As for the inner spirits who govern all the mountains and the cycle of life and death, the foremost is the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak. But his rank is too high, on par with the Thunder Ancestor, making it difficult to visualize his true form and spirit.”

Cheng Xinzhan listened carefully, having previously dared not imagine the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak.

Wen Sukun also pondered seriously, her insight evidently deeper. After a moment, she said,

“The Great Emperor’s third son, Lord Bingling, the Crown Prince Bingling, bestowed the title of Commander of the Three Mountains, overseeing the Five Great Peaks and known as the Benevolent Emperor Bingling. What do you think?”

Cheng Xinzhan considered this carefully and immediately felt it was perfect.

Lord Bingling, as the Great Emperor’s son, possesses a noble fate. He governs the mountains within and beyond the seas in the mortal realm and commands ghostly seals in the underworld, truly embodying the spirit of Wù Earth.

He bowed deeply, saying,

“Thank you, Master, for your guidance.”

Yet he also felt troubled. Although the true form of Crown Prince Bingling might be easier to obtain compared to the Great Emperor, his divine rank was no less than that of the Thunder Commander Demon Vanquisher. Such a status would not be easily accessible.

The Demon Vanquisher was a stroke of luck, drawing from folklore and ancient thunder department texts. But Bingling seemed more mysterious and less approachable for visualization.

“Don’t worry about Crown Prince Bingling’s true form. I will find a way. For now, focus on visualizing the mountains. Once the mountains take shape, the divine spirit will come naturally,” Wen Sukun said, understanding her disciple’s thoughts.

Cheng Xinzhan felt moved and bowed his head in agreement.

From that day on, Cheng Xinzhan spent time at sunrise and sunset gazing at Mingzhi Mountain from afar, no longer eager to leave or return quickly.

Previously, he had not noticed, but now he saw that Mingzhi Mountain was neither as towering as Shouyin Mountain nor as precipitous as Toujian Mountain. It lacked the majesty of Shujian Mountain and the elegance of Baicao Mountain.

Mingzhi Mountain was orderly and rounded, like a giant pebble standing on the earth.

One evening, as the sun was setting, sunlight filtered through bamboo groves, revealing the mountain’s outline stripped of vegetation—a neat conical shape.

Cheng Xinzhan suddenly realized—it was unmistakably a burial mound.

This, however, aligned perfectly with the core of Mingzhi Mountain’s mystical lineage.

Sometimes he walked the mountain paths alone, sometimes visiting the “Great Formation of Twin Serpents and Mystic Turtles.”

He visualized the Palace of Radiance for the Star Official Maoricheng, the Thunder Commander’s Thunder Headquarters for the Demon Vanquisher, the Summer and Autumn Palaces for the Generals of Divine Thunder and Water Thunder, and the Ming Emperor’s Tomb for the Golden Qilin Corpse.

But this time, he did not visualize a temple or palace for Crown Prince Bingling—only Mingzhi Mountain itself. Later, perhaps the Three Mountains and Five Great Peaks would be added as the prince’s domain.

About half a month passed. His left pupil had turned crimson from practicing the “Nine Yang Eye Refinement” technique. Once a youthful figure as refreshing as the mountain breeze, he now bore an aura of nobility thanks to his eye color.

In the alchemical cave beneath the Armory, Daoist Jiang Weishan’s furnace was nearing completion of a fire-element sword embryo.

On the twenty-second day of the seventh lunar month, he opened the furnace and took out “Taodu.”

After ninety-nine days of refining, “Taodu” was reborn. Its crimson blade bore faint feather patterns, radiant with golden light. The fire’s brilliance was restrained, and its pure yang magical intent became even more refined.

The sword spirit manifested as a white-feathered rooster, but its red crest had turned into a dazzling golden crown.

After release, the flying sword darted through the alchemical cave and the towering refining furnace, its golden tail like a flowing silk ribbon. Its cries echoed, causing many artifact spirits to respond, some nearing critical points where uncontrolled spirits almost caused explosions.

Daoist Jiang Weishan urged Cheng Xinzhan to quickly take the conspicuous “Taodu” and leave.

Upon arriving at Mingzhi Mountain, he heard his master’s call and hurried toward the Bamboo Tablet Monument.

Wen Sukun sat in the bamboo pavilion, while Cheng Xinzhan took his usual seat on the mat outside.

“Master,” Cheng Xinzhan greeted respectfully.

“Your visualization chart is ready,” Wen Sukun said bluntly.

This was a double blessing for Cheng Xinzhan.

He waited eagerly.

Wen Sukun flipped her hand, producing a scroll which she unfurled midair.

It was a vertical scroll, slightly yellowed. At the bottom, three great mountains rose from a vast ocean, each with distinct terrain and atmosphere, each magnificent in its own way.

Beneath the three mountains were cloud inscriptions: Penglai, Fangzhang, and Yingzhou.

The mountain peaks were shrouded in clouds and mist, within which many solemn immortals could be vaguely seen.

Above the mountains stood a young man clad in bright yellow robes, standing in the void. His hands were behind his back, demeanor elegant. His head was held high, even slightly raised, yet his gaze looked downward with a haughty air.

In the upper left corner of the scroll was an inscription:

“Chart of Crown Prince Bingling’s Sea Inspection and Review of the Three Mountains’ Deities.”

“This is an ancient treasure I exchanged for from Mount Yandang. It contains profound magical essence. You may project your mind into it to see the true visage of Crown Prince Bingling. However, its legacy is old and the magical essence limited. You have only one chance to enter the painting and observe the divine spirit. Be sure to remember its charm,” Wen Sukun instructed.

Cheng Xinzhan was startled—this was a rare relic. His master had surely paid a great price.

“Enter the painting now. I will guard you to prevent your mind from being overwhelmed by divine power,” she urged.

Without hesitation, Cheng Xinzhan sent a thread of thought into the painting.

The moment his mind touched the surface, a strong suction pulled him inward. He suddenly found himself amidst vast clouds, speeding forward.

“Lord Zou, go faster!”

Suddenly, a shout sounded beside his ear.

He turned to see several others racing through the mist.

He knew this was a scene recorded or manifested by the scroll, and he had merged into it, so he did not reply aloud.

The man seemed anxious, speaking rapidly:

“Lord Zou, as a newly appointed mountain god, you don’t know that Crown Prince Bingling is very demanding. Every time he inspects the immortal mountains throughout the seas, the mountain gods must wait for him. If he arrives before us and we have not registered with our lord, it’s considered dereliction of duty and will be investigated!

“The Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak is above us, but this time Crown Prince Bingling has gone too far, suddenly inspecting the Three Mountains and their branches, saying he will arrive soon. How will we explain ourselves to our visitors?”

The man sighed deeply but did not slow.

Soon, the few branch mountain gods hurried back to an island mountain, each returning to their respective peaks.

Cheng Xinzhan looked around and recognized this as Yingzhou Mountain from the scroll, but the details were far richer than those viewed from outside. He quickly memorized them.

Soon, a divine aura came from the west. Cheng Xinzhan felt Zou’s body tremble.

Yet, as he watched, Crown Prince Bingling arrived alone, without a carriage or attendants, and did not appear arrogant.

As the prince approached, Cheng Xinzhan saw through Zou’s eyes to behold him more clearly.

Crown Prince Bingling looked no older than thirty, youthful but exuding an aura of commanding authority without anger. His stride covered thousands of feet; within a few steps, he crossed from the horizon to above Yingzhou Island, glancing down.

Cheng Xinzhan sensed Zou trembling in awe.

Taking advantage of this, he sought to comprehend the magical intent radiating from Crown Prince Bingling.

Though walking on air, he seemed to use the “Shrink Earth to Inch” technique; though elevated, he was as steady as the earth itself. Not robust, yet he appeared as tall as a mountain.

He looked like a mountain, towering ever higher.

His presence was vast and boundless.

He held absolute power over life and death.

Though Cheng Xinzhan’s glimpse was fleeting, Crown Prince Bingling had already surveyed Yingzhou Mountain. With a single step, the mountains fled behind him, and he moved on to the next peak.

“The Crown Prince is truly majestic!” one mountain god remarked.

Before Cheng Xinzhan could respond, a force pulled his mind out of Zou’s body. Passing through clouds and mist, his vision blurred, and his mind returned to his own body.

Looking back at the scroll, he found Crown Prince Bingling had vanished, and the three mountains’ images dimmed significantly.

“Did you see clearly?” Wen Sukun asked.

“Mostly,” Cheng Xinzhan replied.

Wen Sukun nodded. “Good. Keep this scroll. Though the ancient divine intent has faded, the forms of the Three Mountains remain. You can still enter the painting to study the mountain shapes, but you won’t need to use it many more times.”

With a wave of her hand, the scroll rolled up and settled before Cheng Xinzhan.

He accepted it and said, “Thank you, Master.”

Then Wen Sukun produced another item from the cave stone. It expanded in the wind, becoming a massive painted screen hanging before him.

The colors were vivid, the aura imposing.

It depicted five great mountains, their shapes famed throughout the world, and Cheng Xinzhan had seen them in many classic texts and illustrations. Even without inscriptions, he could guess the name of the painting:

“True Form Chart of the Five Great Peaks.”

“This is the ‘True Form Chart of the Five Great Peaks’ I temporarily borrowed from a friend at Heng Mountain. There are thousands of such charts in the world, but their divine intent varies greatly. This painted screen is from the Erquan Temple at Heng Mountain, painted by a master artist of the Tang dynasty. While not the absolute pinnacle of all such charts, it’s the best I could procure. Take it with you to copy and visualize. When you’ve learned from it, return it to me and I will send it back.”

Wen Sukun said.

Cheng Xinzhan stood and bowed deeply, overwhelmed by such kindness, unable to find words to express his gratitude.

The chapter ends with a gentle invitation for monthly support and comments.