Chapter 142: Journey to the East

In the human world, the flowers of April have faded entirely; yet in the mountain temple, the peach blossoms are just beginning to bloom.

This saying is entirely true. Although April had already arrived, the spring breeze was fashionably late in reaching the mountains.

Guyu had passed many days ago, but a faint, hazy drizzle still lingered around the mountain peaks, refusing to disperse. Taking a deep breath drew the cool raindrops floating in the mountain breeze straight into one's lungs.

With gentle breezes and fine drizzle, it was the vibrant season when orioles flew and grasses grew lush. The spring bamboo shoots on Mingzhi Mountain were fiercely racing to break through the soil.

The variety of bamboos on Mingzhi Mountain was truly vast. Among them was a kind called sweet bamboo, which tasted just like sugarcane. Normally, Sanmei loved nothing more than hugging a stalk and slowly gnawing on it.

The shoots of this bamboo were called sweet shoots; they possessed fat bellies and thick skins, yet tasted exceptionally soft, glutinous, and sweet. Their hollow joints concealed a rich, ample juice that drank like a fruit brew.

These bamboo shoots required one bite to eat, one swallow to follow, and one sip to wash down, earning them the moniker "three-bite shoots."

Sanmei and Green Chi cherished them dearly.

As this was the exact season when the three-bite shoots were sprouting, Cheng Xinzhan had dug up a great many. He had also woven numerous bamboo baskets, sending a large basket to each of the elders with whom he was acquainted.

Aside from the bamboo shoots filling the mountains, the medicinal herb garden was also thriving. All sorts of flowers and grasses displayed brilliant colors, competing in beauty.

On this day, he was once again burying Five-Element mineral jade into the earth, commonly known as applying fertilizer.

His medicinal plots were laid out in a Bagua pattern. He fertilized them in order, moving from the dry plots to the Kun plots. Just as he was busy at work, his movements suddenly paused, his eyes fixing on a particular spot.

He had just seen that patch of soil move.

How could that be?

Old Bai and Deng Ge usually tended the medicinal garden exceptionally well, biting off any bamboo roots the moment they encroached. How could a bamboo shoot still manage to break through the soil?

No!

Cheng Xinzhan suddenly realized—it was that exact spot!

A surge of harvest joy welled up in his heart. He kept his posture completely still, terrified of startling whatever was hidden beneath the earth.

After a short while, that patch of earth moved once more, rising high.

Immediately following that, the soil became lively as clods of dirt rolled down one after another.

Finally, a pitch-black "Ding" character shaped protrusion stood upright.

Cheng Xinzhan smiled silently; it had indeed succeeded.

That tiny "Ding"-shaped form wobbled back and forth, seemingly sensing the conditions of the outside world.

Having apparently confirmed there was no danger, the "Ding" character probed further upward, revealing a round body resembling dark jade. Then, a pair of golden wings came into view, though the veins upon the wings were pitch-black. This intertwining of black and gold was strikingly, uniquely beautiful.

A rhinoceros beetle.

The beetle crawled out unsteadily, its antennae, longer than its body, flailing haphazardly.

After spinning in place for quite some time, the beetle suddenly paused as if it had discovered something, and then crawled straight toward Cheng Xinzhan.

Cheng Xinzhan extended his hand, palm facing upward, and lowered it to the ground.

The beetle quickly climbed into the center of Cheng Xinzhan's palm, then became entirely still, as though it had fallen asleep.

Yet Cheng Xinzhan knew that with a single thought of his own, this beetle would spring back to life instantly, moving precisely however he commanded it to move.

For this was his corpse-puppet.

Having cultivated the corpse-puppet for seven years, he had finally reaped a favorable result.

When he first cleared the medicinal plots and sowed flower and grass seeds, he had also buried this insect corpse within the earth.

Vast though heaven and earth were, there could not be many corpse-raising grounds superior to Mingzhi Mountain.

By arranging the trenches of his medicinal garden into a Bagua formation and burying the Five-Element mineral jade, he was indeed fertilizing the flora, but even more so, he was nurturing the corpse-puppet.

Over the span of seven years, almost every two or three days, he would channel Metal-attribute Qi into the insect corpse to consolidate its foundational metallic nature.

During autumn and winter, he condensed Yin-water and Yang-earth Qi into a cocoon to nourish the insect corpse. In spring, he washed the insect's body with Yang-wood Qi to spur vitality, and when summer arrived, he tempered and refined it with thunder and fire to prevent the birth of evil and malevolent thoughts.

As for the secret corpse-raising talismans, he had burned countless numbers of them; the talisman ash alone had dyed that patch of soil entirely black.

Yet despite all this, seven years had passed with that patch of earth showing virtually no movement.

Thus, when the earth stirred today, he had initially assumed it was merely a bamboo shoot poking its head out.

Never had he imagined that the spring rains, which stirred all things to life, would awaken the long-dormant insect corpse in its eighth year.

Presently, the insect corpse remained in an ignorant state, akin to a newborn, operating purely on instinct. Only through meticulous nurturing and growing spirituality later on could it gradually live up to the formidable reputation of the rhinoceros beetle.

Perhaps one day, he might even be able to procure a dragon corpse for himself.

At this thought, beaming with delight, he immediately cupped the insect corpse in his hands and went to share the good news with his master.

Upon seeing it, Wen Kongsu was naturally immensely gratified. This was an art passed down through generations on Mingzhi Mountain, as well as a responsibility. One did not need to master it or take it as a foundational path, but one must never be entirely ignorant of it.

"The words you spoke to the master back then still linger in my ears. I never expected you to have refined it so quickly," Wen Kongsu said with a smile.

Cheng Xinzhan smiled as well, naturally recalling those years ago when he had just opened his heart palace. So many years had already flown by.

"Your soul cultivation is unquestionably top-tier among those of the Second Realm, and you hold your own even compared to some newly ascended Third Realm practitioners. When your soul eventually undergoes the tempering of the thunder tribulations, it will rank among the very best within the Third Realm.

"You are already extremely proficient in driving the bamboo body as an external avatar. Your next step should be to practice the art of soul-splitting—peeling away a split soul from your three souls to command multiple bodies simultaneously. By doing so, your main soul can anchor your physical body, while the split souls operate external avatars and execute the art of borrowing a corpse to return to life. Such practice will be far faster, and traveling abroad will be infinitely safer, blurring the lines between true and false."

Cheng Xinzhan acknowledged respectfully.

Hearing his master mention traveling abroad, he naturally seized the opportunity to request:

"This disciple wishes to venture out and wander the world."

Of course he wanted to go out and wander; even the insect corpse underground knew it was time to crawl out and move around.

Wen Kongsu smiled upon hearing this. "I knew you would bring this up. I have no objections—as long as you can convince the sect master."

Cheng Xinzhan chuckled heartily, repeatedly expressing his gratitude before taking his leave.

Following that, he spent several days bidding farewell to the patriarch, the sect master, the immortals, Instructor Ren, the Head of the Disciplinary Bureau, and others.

Because his status within the sect was no longer what it used to be, he could no longer simply inform his master and leave as he had done previously.

Presently, some people might even fiercely argue over whether he was suited to travel before forming his golden elixir.

However, unable to withstand Cheng Xinzhan's persistent nagging and repeated assurances that safety came first, that he was merely touring to observe heaven and earth and would never stir up trouble—coupled with bringing out the sweet shoots delivered just days prior as bargaining chips—these elders finally all agreed and let him go out.

For this trip, he only intended to bring Sanmei along to dispel boredom, leaving Deng Ge behind at home so that Old Bai could properly instruct him to refine his vocal bone early on, shed his mortal coil, and begin practicing transformation arts.

Upon learning that Cheng Xinzhan was leaving, Green Chi had been somewhat upset for the first two days and refused to pay him attention, but the mere thought of not seeing him for a long time made her grow increasingly clingy afterward.

Just before his departure, Green Chi gazed wistfully at Cheng Xinzhan, her watery green eyes resembling bottomless pools. Gu Qin stuttered out a single sentence:

"Ea—ear—early, re—return."

Cheng Xinzhan smiled and said he would, gently patted Green Chi's head, and then stepped into the void and departed.

He greatly enjoyed traveling in spring; it felt like going out to view the greenery, and the fresh scent of spring rain in particular exhilarated his mind and spirit.

He stood upon the high mountain meadow outside the mountain gate of Zhongling Mountain. Beneath his feet lay a carpet of lush green grass, dotted with numerous tiny wild flowers blooming amidst the turf. Hidden within the grass, the wildflowers were hard to notice at first glance, yet once spotted, the vibrant colors concealed beneath the green brought an indescribable sense of pleasant surprise.

Beyond the meadow rolled a sea of clouds, while a moist, gentle spring breeze brushed against his face.

His state of mind for this journey was different; he was not setting out to slay demons, eliminate fiends, or witness perils, but merely wishing to go out and look upon the expanse of heaven and earth.

The gate of Sanqing Mountain faced east, and at that moment, he looked toward the east. Of his two previous excursions out of the mountains, the first had taken him to the southwest and the second to the northwest. Come to think of it, he had never visited the eastern lands, which had historically been peaceful and prosperous.

Let heading east be his destination this time!

With a single thought, he summoned his "Dragon Chariot." This excursion called for a leisurely pace, and riding the clouds suited it best. Cradling his little civet cat, he boarded the cloud carriage and slowly drifted away from the mountain gate.

Seated upon the cloud, wisps of lingering rain mist dampened his Dharma robe, while the oncoming mountain breeze lacked any chill, offering only a crisp, refreshing coolness that revitalized his spirit. Thus, he casually chanted aloud:

*Grass grows lush in mist and cloud, dragon chariot lifts me toward the eastern streams.*

*Late spring rain wets my clothes, an April breeze blows soft upon the face.*

***

Traveling eastward all the way, they soon reached the boundary between Yuzhang and Kuaiji. This reminded Cheng Xinzhan of how he and Instructor Jian Xianshu had once passed through this region on their way to Mount Huang to seek out mountain aura and survey the earth veins.

That journey had marked his first meeting with many people: Master Canxia, Zhou Qingyun, Daoist Brother Miaoshu, Daoist Brother Jishen, Jianmo, and Senior Jin Mingzi.

Among them had turned into bitter enemies, Daoist Brother Miaoyuan, who had descended into the underground palace with him, had perished, and Senior Jin Mingzi had ascended once more—truly, things remained, but the people had changed.

This time, he did not head toward Qingzhou, but toward Kuaiji.

As the saying went: *The southeast possesses scenic splendor, the metropolis of the Three Wus, Qiantang has been prosperous since ancient times. Misty willows and painted bridges, wind-blown curtains and emerald screens, ten thousand households overlapping.*

The land of Kuaiji had been fertile since antiquity; households with grand banquets were countless, and those seeking the Dao or worshipping Buddha were everywhere, rendering the incense offerings extraordinarily flourishing.

There were many immortal Daoist mountains, among which the most renowned were Mount Tianmu, Mount Tiantai, and Mount Siming—the first three sharing a branch and referred to together as the "Three Heavenly Marvels," dedicated to the leader of female immortals, the Queen Mother of the West, hence populated mostly by female disciples. Mount Siming, meanwhile, held the transmission of the Myriad Laws Sect, venerated the Three Pure Ones, and regarded Sanqing Mountain as its ancestral court.

Among these, Cheng Xinzhan was acquainted with members of two sects, both having met them in White Jade Capital.

One was Qiao Shoujing, a female Daoist of Mount Tianmu, who had once spared Dharma swords with him in White Jade Capital.

The other was Daoist Cunsi of the Siming Sect. Back when his soul had left his body and fellow disciples shook the Dharma bells, Elder Cunsi of the Siming Sect had rushed over to protect his dharma.

As for famous Buddhist mountains, there were two: Mount Putota and Mount Yandang, both renowned Buddhist sanctuaries throughout the realm.

Aside from these, there was also Mount Kuaiji, the site where King Yu had discussed achievements in water regulation and also the location of the Southern Guard; the imperial aura and baleful Qi there were rather dense, so no major sects had established their foundations there.

Cheng Xinzhan pondered for a moment. Since this was an aimless tour, he would head to Mount Siming first to pay respects to Daoist Cunsi, who had after all aided and protected him. Moreover, he still had some sweet shoots preserved in ice within his cave-stone, and he could bring them for the friends of Mount Siming to taste.

Having made up his mind, he continued eastward, unhurriedly, alternating between riding the clouds and walking on foot.

Sanmei had also been cooped up in the mountains for too long, and this being her first outing since her eyes completely healed, she found everything fascinating, stopping frequently along the way to smell flowers and play in the water.

Man and civet walked along the Qu River. Past Quzhou lay Jinhua, where the Qu River merged with the Jinhua River. When the Jinhua River reached its end, it arrived in Dongyang, transforming the river's name into the Dongyang River—a rather fascinating transition.

This felt entirely different from his experience walking along the Yellow River in the north.

The Yellow River surged forward; although it nourished the lands on both banks, in essence, it remained a rolling torrent of water whose force moved independently of human will. The great river was vast, remaining unchanged in its pace whether stars shifted or the cosmos turned, as if nurturing the two banks was merely incidental and the river simply remained the river.

*The passing of time is like this, flowing day and night without rest.*

Back then, Cheng Xinzhan by the riverside had witnessed the momentum of water, the might of water, and water's eternal transformation alongside its eternal constancy.

Yet this time, the river winding through mountains, fields, and villages gave him a completely different sensation.

People built their homes and lived along the river, eating from it and using its waters. The river flowed slowly without haste or impatience; he frequently saw elderly fishermen with white hair and beards operating bamboo rafts, casting nets to catch fish in the stream.

Presently, Cheng Xinzhan by the riverside witnessed the gentleness of water, the moisture of water, and how water benefited all things without contending.

Equally, this was a manifestation of Yin.

Pondering this realization, he walked eastward until he reached the end of the Dongyang River.

The water vein stopped abruptly here. He continued onward, but not long after leaving Dongyang, on a moonlit night, he caught sight of another north-south water vein, quite magnificent, appearing to descend from the heavens and cleaving Kuaiji in two.

This was the Shan Stream.

Crossing the Shan Stream meant entering Mount Siming; likewise, Mount Tianmu lay just to the east of the Shan Stream.

Ah, could it be that the poet Li Bai had also taken this exact route during his night tour of Mount Tianmu?

Cheng Xinzhan could not help but wonder.

Crossing the Shan Stream, the undulating ranges of Mount Siming came into view, shrouded in clouds and mist, glowing with myriad auspicious rays.

Cheng Xinzhan quickened his pace. It would be best to lodge within Mount Siming before nightfall today, so that waking up early tomorrow morning, he could gaze afar at the rosy clouds of Mount Chicheng from within Mount Siming. That was a wondrous spectacle even the poet Li Bai had praised unceasingly; since he had come here, he could not afford to miss it.