Chapter 396: Chapter 396

Empress Zhang Wantong had already left behind the imperial Dao of the Son of Heaven and returned fully to the Confucian path in her cultivation. Her entire body of knowledge was unique and trailblazing, forming a style of its own.

But according to Lei Jun's observations, her situation was different from Meng Shaojie’s. In fact, she seemed to have more in common with Zhang Hui.

In some sense, Zhang Hui could be considered her first true successor, almost like a founding disciple who inherited her mantle. It wasn’t that she’d held back anything while mentoring Meng Shaojie, but rather that her and Zhang Hui’s cultivation paths still aligned more closely with the traditions of classical Confucian canon studies—upholding the old while ushering in the new. By contrast, Meng Shaojie had established a new path, one that treated historiography as independent from the classical Confucian canon.

Zhang Hui used classical canon as his foundation and art as his expression. While integrating the Empress Zhang Wantong’s sense of historiography—traces of brush and ink laden with meaning—he also incorporated some of the mysteries pursued by Confucian cultivators who practiced the art of recitation, resonating with the heavens and harmonizing with nature. During his years of study, he combined these with his own traits and carved out a cultivation path uniquely suited to him, distinct from that of most Confucian cultivators in the world.

After Empress Zhang Wantong broke away from imperial cultivation, her practice reached a very unique form of the Ninth Heaven stage in classical canon cultivation. What was lost in one area was gained in another: although she didn’t transition fully into the path of historiography, she retained a profound marvel that came with achieving mastery in the Five Classics as a Ninth Heaven Grand Scholar—known as "Ascending in One Step to the Clouds."

Back in the days when ascending to immortality was still possible, ancient records indicated this was one of the relatively easier paths to immortality. Of course, “easy” is always relative.

Throughout history, the chasm between the mortal and immortal realms had buried countless once-glorious figures, causing even the most brilliant geniuses to hesitate—many of whom had already achieved “Ascending in One Step to the Clouds.”

From the outside, Empress Zhang Wantong appeared refined and reserved, without the imposing aura of righteousness. In comparison, she seemed far less formidable than Lin Zheng, who was also at the fifth stage of the Ninth Heaven. But Lei Jun, with his extraordinary cultivation and keen perception, could intuitively sense the profound presence of Zhang Wantong’s national will and worldly command. Even if it wasn’t outwardly visible, it was still deeply tangible—vivid and structured like a true world of heaven and earth.

Within it was a unique philosophical essence, one distinctly different from that of other Grand Scholars who sought to bring peace to the world.

Lei Jun’s expression didn’t change. While contemplating, he calmly replied, “This humble Daoist thanks Your Majesty for the trust.”

Once the audience concluded, a palace maid presented him with a brocade box. Lei Jun accepted it and left the palace.

After a brief inspection, he opened the box to find a large seal that appeared to be made of white jade. The moment it came under his gaze, the jade seal seemed to stir slightly, as if it had life.

Although no visible change appeared on the surface, Lei Jun sharply sensed that the artifact had entered a stealthy, guarded state. Intrigued, he noted that the seal’s protective restrictions were cleverly designed. Anyone who failed to detect their intricacies might dismiss it as a mere trinket and, in doing so, miss out on a great treasure.

Lei Jun made no sudden moves and simply observed the seal in silence. His entire presence seemed to merge with nature.

Though his gaze remained unchanged, to the jade seal it now felt as though Lei Jun's attention had vanished. Gradually, the seal began to relax its defensive stance.

Soon, in Lei Jun’s field of vision, sigils and symbols began to appear from the seal. Given his current cultivation level, he immediately recognized them as talismans from the Daoist Talisman School—more specifically, from the ancient lineage of that tradition.

Combining this with the seal’s Celestial Palace origin, it was reasonable to infer that a senior master of the Mount Longhu Celestial Master Sect had once ascended to the Celestial Palace and left these traces behind.

In theory, the Celestial Palace was a relic of the past. The current Tang Dynasty’s Mount Longhu traditions differed significantly from the ancient Talisman School. Yet considering the connections among Penglai, the Celestial Palace, and the ongoing legacy of Mount Longhu in the mortal realm, Lei Jun couldn’t help but give this more serious thought.

That Empress Zhang Wantong directly entrusted this item to him and Mount Longhu likely indicated she was entrusting them with the responsibility to investigate further.

Lei Jun’s situation was different from other Mount Longhu cultivators. Even his senior martial sister Xu Yuanzhen, who also possessed natural-level comprehension, differed from him.

His own breakthrough to natural-level comprehension was linked not only to the Celestial Palace but also to the fabled realms of Bilu and Yellow Springs among the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths.

Thus, compared to others, he had a heightened sensitivity to matters related to Bilu and Yellow Springs.

At this moment, Lei Jun vaguely sensed that the Celestial Palace-related jade seal seemed to be connected to Bilu.

Among the Nine Heavens, Bilu had always been somewhat unique—perhaps even once especially so. Legend said no one had ever managed to establish stable dominion over Bilu.

Though people had entered and exited over the ages, they were merely passersby. None had ever resided there long-term.

Now, as he studied the jade seal, Lei Jun fell into deep thought. What concerned him wasn’t just the Celestial Palace and the ancient Talisman School, but also the Empress Zhang Wantong who had handed it over.

Human Realm – Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms Era. Later Chu – Black Qilin Army Main Camp at Mount Mang.

The entire camp was draped in mourning attire. Every soldier wore hempen garments and white sashes as a sign of grief. But there weren’t many soldiers present. The main force of the army was out in the field, led by Marshal Zhou Wei himself.

Their destination was none other than the capital of Later Chu. Zhou Wei had led his elite Black Qilin Army in open rebellion.

The spark that ignited this revolt was Zhou Wei’s adopted son and trusted general, Zhou Pu. With Zhou Pu’s help, Zhou Wei had obtained a legendary artifact—the Three Essence Spirit Fruit—which gave him a major breakthrough in cultivation.

However, word of this leaked, and the king of Later Chu caught wind of it, leading to suspicion and paranoia. While Zhou Wei was in seclusion to cultivate, the royal court launched a purge: hunting down his followers and kin, aiming to find Zhou Wei’s hidden retreat.

Zhou Pu, who was still active in the army, responded quickly. He led the Black Qilin Army in a fierce breakout from the encirclement. But most of Zhou Wei and Zhou Pu’s relatives still in the capital were slaughtered.

When Zhou Wei finally emerged from seclusion, cultivation complete and his strength at its peak, he made the decision to rebel. He personally led the bulk of the Black Qilin Army and marched straight toward the Later Chu capital.

Zhou Pu, having sustained injuries during the breakout, was entrusted with command of the rear guard stationed at Mount Mang, tasked with holding down the final foundation of the Black Qilin Army.

In camp, Zhou Pu never took off his armor. A white sash was wrapped around his waist. Though pale and bloodless, his movements remained steady as he practiced his martial arts calmly.

Zhou Wei was both his adoptive father and maternal uncle. Their families were deeply interwoven by blood. Yet Zhou Pu’s expression was composed and cold.

It wasn’t that he didn’t mourn the loss of family and comrades—just that, in this era and this world, such tragedies were all too common. Zhou Pu had joined the military under Zhou Wei’s command when he was still a teenager. By now, he had long since grown used to such events.

But being used to it didn’t mean he accepted it.

“This kind of world… needs to end, sooner rather than later,” Zhou Pu thought to himself.

Later, news came from the front lines: Zhou Wei had crushed all opposition with unstoppable momentum and was now pressing upon the gates of the Later Chu capital.

The soldiers left in the Mount Mang camp cheered with excitement. Zhou Pu’s spirits also lifted at the news.

But soon, his eyes flickered—he’d noticed something.

Outside the Mount Mang camp, several people were moving about in small groups. Some looked like Han Chinese, others were clearly of different ethnic origins. Their clothing varied widely, but their movements were unusually synchronized.

At the center was a middle-aged man giving instructions: “Quickly bury these beast bones in the marked positions around the valley. No one is allowed to look toward the northern gorge while the ritual is underway.”

These people were all curse masters—practitioners of the Witch Sect’s incantation and sorcery lineage. They were preparing for a large-scale ritual.

They had planned in advance to set things up outside the Black Qilin Army’s camp at Mount Mang. Most didn’t even know the specific target, and they were forbidden from looking toward the main camp.

After all, within the Black Qilin Army, there were many martial experts. Any killing intent or hostility could easily be sensed by them.

But changes in the natural environment were much harder for martial artists to detect.

“Even though only a portion of the Black Qilin elites remain in the camp, they’re all veterans with years of experience. Their scouts are everywhere, constantly patrolling. Even though we have concealment rituals, there’s still a risk of being discovered,” some of the curse masters whispered among themselves.

The lead sorcerer said, “That’s why we must act fast and stay hidden…”

He had barely finished when his expression changed dramatically. He looked back—

From the surrounding wilderness, Black Qilin soldiers in black armor and white mourning sashes had suddenly emerged.

A squad of martial experts surged forward like a landslide, catching the Witch Sect off guard. The ritual they had been preparing was shattered before it could take effect.

Despite his injuries, Zhou Pu charged at the forefront. His blade tore into the enemy ranks with overwhelming momentum.

The curse masters, caught unprepared, could only try to resist while retreating. Though only part of the army remained in the camp, Zhou Pu and his troops came down like an avalanche, swift and deadly.

The Witch Sect’s formation fell apart. Their retreat soon devolved into a full-blown rout.

On a distant ridge, another group arrived. They had intended to play the role of the "sparrow stalking the mantis," waiting for the right moment to strike.

But to their surprise, the “cicada” had turned around and devoured the “mantis” instead.

“Shishu…” one monk whispered.

He wore monk’s robes, his head shaved clean, and was a core disciple of the Lapis Glaze Monastery—one of the great Buddhist holy sites of the era.

Behind him stood more monks, radiating calm and holy light—each one a highly cultivated disciple of the Lapis Glaze Monastery.

The elder leading them was a tall, gaunt old monk. He stared at the distant battle in silence.

His disciples exchanged glances. “Was it because the Witch Sect failed to conceal themselves properly?”

Ordinarily, the curse masters of the Witch Sect were experts at hiding. Yet they’d been discovered by the Black Qilin Army and decisively attacked.

The reversal was swift and complete.

“In a way, this is a good outcome,” the old monk finally said. “Later Chu’s fate is exhausted. The Witch Sect is losing a major foothold in the Central Plains.”

The monks behind him nodded solemnly. One pressed his palms together and quietly chanted a Buddhist mantra:

“The Witch Sect has no place in the human world. As we purge their corrupt influence little by little, someday, Mount Ling will shine again, and we Buddhists shall cleanse its filth.”

Mount Ling—one of the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths—was once grouped with Saha and Sumeru among the nine wondrous realms.

In ancient times, it had been under the dominion of the Witch Sect. Back then, the Ten Witches of Mount Ling were said to command heaven and earth.

Later, it fell into the hands of the Buddhist sects and became a sacred land in their hearts. But it was eventually taken back by the Witch Sect.

A prolonged, world-shaking struggle ensued between the two factions over Mount Ling. Only when the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths began to shut themselves off from the human realm did the conflict come to a halt.

Now that Mount Ling had reopened, its connection to the mortal realm reignited the chaos.

In this turbulent world of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, many small nations were now backed either by Mount Ling’s Grand Witches or by Buddhist masters.

The Later Chu royal family had long been involved with the Witch Sect. Meanwhile, the Lapis Glaze Monastery had chosen to support Zhou Wei—a formidable general whose personal strength and military force could rival a nation.

“General Zhou Pu, the Marshal’s adopted son… he’s no easy man,” one monk murmured. “They say it was he who found the Three Essence Spirit Fruit, but instead of keeping it, he offered it to the Marshal.”

The old monk nodded. “Given the current situation in Later Chu, that was the wisest move.”

But Zhou Pu’s attitude toward the Buddhist sect was distant and unreceptive. And the more capable he was, the more that worked against the monastery’s influence over Zhou Wei.

That the Witch Sect’s attack on Mount Mang had failed—especially their failure to eliminate Zhou Pu—was a real loss for them. Now that the threat to the camp had been neutralized, even if the Lapis Glaze Monastery had wanted to arrive as saviors, there was no longer any opportunity to do so.

The old monk sighed inwardly while closely observing the Black Qilin troops.

Despite their victory, they remained calm and disciplined, just as Zhou Pu had ordered. There was no gloating, no reckless pursuit. They regrouped swiftly and returned to camp in perfect order.

The watching monks were silently impressed. Even with a partial force, this one battle showed the strength of Zhou Wei, Zhou Pu, and the Black Qilin Army.

No wonder the Later Chu king feared them so deeply. The Black Qilin Army had become a major force to be reckoned with.

And with Zhou Wei’s recent breakthrough, the entire situation had shifted dramatically.

Inside the Mount Mang camp, Zhou Pu led the troops back with a calm demeanor, showing no signs of pride or triumph.

He calmly ordered his troops to rest and conduct internal checks, wary of the unpredictable and hidden tactics of the Witch Sect.

The soldiers responded with a thunderous chorus of acknowledgment.

Zhou Pu himself seemed to be examining his own condition as well.

His gaze didn’t linger on anything in particular.

It merely swept across the distant mountains where the monks of the Liuli Zen Monastery resided—seemingly by chance.

Zhou Pu withdrew his gaze, his expression unchanged, but his eyes had gone cold.

Tianshi Mansion, Mount Longhu.

Lei Jun had already returned to the Mansion.

Yuan Mobai came to see him.

“Master, are you preparing for a long seclusion?”

Upon hearing Yuan Mobai’s reason for coming, Lei Jun smiled, “Then let me congratulate you in advance, Master. May you successfully ascend to the Ninth Heaven and achieve the realm of Great Ascension.”

Yuan Mobai smiled and shook his head. “I still need time to settle and prepare. I can't say I’m absolutely certain I can cross that final step.”

Lei Jun said, “With your deep accumulation, there's no doubt you’ll make it.”

Yuan Mobai replied, “Then I’ll borrow your auspicious words and hope the day comes soon.”

Besides Yuan Mobai, Chu Yu had also returned to Luoyang recently and entered seclusion to study in preparation for crossing the Heavenly Chasm Tribulation between the Eighth and Ninth Heaven.

Earlier this year, following Grand Marshal Shangguan Yunbo and before Yuan Mobai and Chu Yu, Xiao Xueting had already taken that final step and reached the realm of Martial Saint of the Ninth Heaven.

She thus became the second Martial Saint of the current Tang Dynasty after Shangguan Yunbo.

She had long since reached the perfection stage of the Eighth Heaven, her overwhelming talent accumulating quietly—until now, when she stunned the world with her breakthrough.

With Xiao Xueting’s advancement, Zhang Hui, who had remained in the Tang Mortal Realm these past few years, finally decided to journey beyond the Tang world—to broaden his horizons.

Although curious about Datong and the Han Mortal Realm, Zhang Hui ultimately chose to stick with his original plan: his first destination would be Guizang, once known as Tianli.

His close friend Meng Shaojie was currently there as well.

“I heard Mr. Meng has gained quite a lot in Guizang?” Yuan Mobai said with a smile.

Lei Jun responded, “Although Xiaoming Court of Guizang had long been in relative obscurity, their history aligns with that of the Great Ming Dynasty before and shortly after its founding. It’s a good few decades ahead of us in the Tang. Mr. Meng has collected a great deal of historical records and texts—he’s certainly benefited greatly.”

Yuan Mobai said, “Back when you created the ‘Four Hidden Luminaries’ under the Heavenly Book’s Dark Side, it was just a spur-of-the-moment act. But now the shade from that tree has grown quite expansive.”

Lei Jun replied, “Credit really goes to the young ones and their own fortunes. I only gave them a small push.

If you think about it, all four of them are exceptionally gifted—especially in their souls, which is what allowed them to obtain fate with the Dark Side of the Heavenly Book. None of them are ordinary people.”

Kang Ming and Meng Shaojie, for instance, needed no explanation.

The former was born with a dual-aspect soul, and the latter was a natural-born scholar of cultivation history, capable of truly original insight.

As for Nie Fang, known as “Yuebei”, he too had extraordinary talent in the soul—otherwise he couldn’t have mastered Puppet Mastery from just a fragmentary scroll. He had clearly grown into something remarkable.

Then there was Zhou Pu, who recently received the Purple Star—his soul was just as unique.

Like Kang Ming, Zhou Pu’s talent originated from his bone structure—specifically, his gift in soul-based aptitude. He was born with the trait known as “Heaven-Responsive and Earth-Sensing”, naturally attuned to the rhythms of heaven and earth, making his soul extremely agile and sensitive. He had long been compared to those with the Senluo Immortal Physique of the Daoist Path.

And notably, Zhou Pu’s innate talent—akin to a Confucian “divinely inspired brushstroke”—was best suited for the Confucian Recitation Lineage.

Unfortunately, he was born in chaotic times, amidst bloodshed and turmoil.

In that mortal realm, warriors held power, and Confucianism was not mainstream.

Raised by his adoptive father Zhou Wei, Zhou Pu learned martial arts from a young age. By the time he had accomplished anything, the window for switching paths to literature had long passed.

Thus, a peerless Confucian prodigy ended up becoming a top-tier Upper Heaven Martial Artist.

This was possible only because Zhou Pu also had exceptional comprehension, particularly well-suited to martial cultivation.

Physically, he lacked advantage. But even so, he rose from a war-torn land soaked in blood.

And that set him apart from other martial artists.

Most notably—while Zhou Pu possessed the toughness and vigilance common to all martial souls, his soul was also agile in ways others lacked.

In terms of soul attributes, he had no weaknesses.

Tenacious and unyielding—nearly impervious to external damage—yet his perception was vast, precise, and far exceeded expectation.

Time and again, this helped Zhou Pu turn danger into safety and overcome powerful enemies.

“Generally speaking,” Lei Jun said, “the martial artists of that mortal realm differ quite a bit from ours in the Tang.”

“Likely a result of their environment.”

Martial traditions had diverged since the end of the Han Dynasty.

Before that, martial arts were already well-developed—many descended from early Mohist assassins.

As a result, martial techniques across many realms, including the Tang, emphasize burst damage and sudden strikes.

This gives them high explosiveness, speed, and concentrated killing power.

When at full vitality, their bodies are peerless—unyielding in both offense and defense, with exceptional speed and reflexes.

But once injured and bleeding, their entire body and mind suffer, with stamina quickly dropping.

In contrast, martial artists from Zhou Pu’s realm had undergone changes after years of blood-soaked war.

There, Confucianism and Daoism were not dominant.

Instead, martialists ruled, while Buddhist and Witch Sect cultivators rose alongside them, all vying for control in chaos.

Thus, the martial path there had absorbed considerable influence—particularly from the Blood River lineage of the Witch Sect.

As a result, martial artists of that realm sacrificed some speed and explosiveness for significantly enhanced vitality and regeneration.

Even when wounded, they could continue fighting at high efficiency, and had excellent endurance in prolonged battles.

They were still strong offensively and defensively but no longer as extreme as ancient assassins.

In a way, they lost the core identity of early martialists—but became more balanced, resembling some martial types Lei Jun remembered from past impressions.

Whether that’s good or bad… depends on who's experiencing it.

“On another note, there’s something else… rather concerning.”

Lei Jun spoke slowly: “There are rumors that Shambhala and Spirit Mountain have begun to appear in the world.”

Yuan Mobai’s smile remained, but his gaze grew more serious.

Shambhala—long considered one of the Nine Heavens—was ruled by the Buddhists, alongside Mount Sumeru.

Spirit Mountain, meanwhile, was tied to the ancient rivalry between the Buddhist and Witch Sects.

“Unlike Mount Sumeru, which is controlled by the Western Region’s Buddhist sects, Shambhala is mostly confirmed to be held by the Zen lineage,” Lei Jun said.

“Even though Xuanyan Temple and Tianlong Monastery are gone, there’s still Bodhi Monastery, and the new holy sites like Liuli Zen Monastery and Putuo Hermitage—all connected to Shambhala.”

“On the flip side, Spirit Mountain supports the Witch Sect. Much of the current turmoil in that realm seems to echo this Shambhala vs. Spirit Mountain conflict.”

Yuan Mobai replied, “Chaos on all sides.”

Lei Jun said, “All the more reason for us to cultivate inner peace, and act in harmony with heaven.”

Yuan Mobai nodded with a smile. “I shall follow the Sect Master's teachings.”

After bidding Lei Jun farewell, he began his closed-door cultivation.

Lei Jun, meanwhile, received a new message from Senior Sister Tang Xiaotang.

She had also gone to Guizang.

Tang Xiaotang had long been searching for a way to reopen the Sea of Earth and the Yellow Springs.

With her high cultivation, great insight, and the manifestation of her Primordial Sovereign Form, she had finally begun to uncover clues.

In the Tang Mortal Realm, her methods yielded no results.

But outside that world—through one of the other Nine Heavens and Ten Earths—she began to grasp something about the Sea of Earth.

She immediately began preparations in Guizang.

This move caused some controversy within the Tang Imperial Court.

Still, better for it to happen in Guizang than the Tang proper.

Some high-ranking officials knew that Ninth Heaven Grand Scholar Zhang Hui was also currently in Guizang.

And since Tang Xiaotang herself was extraordinarily powerful, the court chose to turn a blind eye.

Of course, they still dispatched senior officials to Mount Longhu, seeking an audience with Tianshi Lei Jun to understand the situation in detail.

At the same time, Shen Qubing, stationed in the Tang Northern Frontier, received an imperial order to go to Guizang and assist State Preceptor Tang.

“General, the boys are ready—just say the word.”

Jin Dao Wu, now one of the sixteen generals of the Tang Divine Strategy Army, approached Shen Qubing, still addressing him as “General” like in the old days.

His name had always seemed suspicious, but by now, no one questioned it.

Jin Dao Wu had risen as another top young expert under Shen Qubing and was one of Empress Zhang Wantong’s most favored civilian-born talents.

He had reached the Seventh Heaven long ago and was now preparing for the Eighth—but not through closed-door cultivation.

“We’re ready. Then let’s move.” Shen Qubing gave the order.

The group mounted their Azure Dragon Windhowlers and headed south in a mighty force.

Behind them lay the once-unrestful Northern tribes—now pacified thanks to Shen Qubing.

After the Battle of Luoyang, unrest had spread among the tribes.

But the Tang had since crushed the rebellion.

Upon returning from the Sea of Earth, Shen Qubing was reassigned to the north.

Now, some of the tribal youths even joined his forces—ready to follow him into battle elsewhere.

“No idea what things are like now in the Sea of Earth. A shame, considering all you’d established there,” Jin Dao Wu said as they traveled. “I wonder if Clan Leader Li Ying still holds sway over the Wu Li Tribe?”

Shen Qubing replied, “Let’s go to Guizang first. Who knows, by the time we arrive, State Preceptor Tang might have already opened the Sea of Earth Gate.”

They crossed the ocean, entering a Void Gateway toward Guizang.

The moment they entered, Guizang shuddered violently.

Jin Dao Wu and the others exchanged glances.

Shen Qubing’s eyes lit up, and he immediately urged his Azure Dragon Windhowler forward.

“Looks like something’s happening on State Preceptor Tang’s end!”

Sure enough, in a spiritually vibrant region within Guizang, the void had begun to distort—like a living wound.

Crimson fissures opened in the air, bleeding like veins.

Red light burst outward, and upon touching Guizang’s world, transformed into churning black mist.

The mist was unable to expand, suppressed by an invisible force and confined to a small space.

Nearby stood a tall young priestess in a purple-gold Daoist robe, who threw her head back and laughed in triumph:

“In the end, you still fell into my hands!”