Chapter 624: Chapter 624

“Is what you say truly possible?”

“I dare not deceive.”

“Absurd! Who in all of heaven and earth would dare attempt such a thing?”

“And why should one not dare?”

“Gods without virtue have existed since time immemorial. Even if the heavens were overturned and a new pantheon installed, that cycle would be unavoidable. If you intend to start from the Heavenly Palace itself, to challenge the path to ascension, then you are striking at the very root of the Heavenly Palace and the divine order.

“You would be attempting to stand above the gods. What you face would not just be the officials of Heaven, it would be a task far more daunting than overthrowing the heavens or replacing the Celestial Emperor.”

The old man widened his eyes, staring at the Daoist in disbelief. “Even if you possessed the power of an ancient sage, to attempt something is far too arrogant and reckless.”

“Every impossible task in this world begins exactly so.”

“You truly have such resolve?”

“It is not about resolve. It is simply that the rot in the Heavenly Palace and its gods has, over time, sunk deep into the bone. As the mortal world changes more and more, the conflict between it and Heaven becomes increasingly irreconcilable,” Song You replied, his tone calm and sincere, though his words were enough to shock gods and immortals alike. “I am no god. I am merely a man.”

“With your abilities, if you followed the Divine Dao, you could emulate the Fiery Sun True Lord and become one of those ancient gods behind the Heavenly Palace. Would that not be far easier?”

“That is not what I wish for.”

“How confident are you?”

“The outcome is uncertain, so it's hard to say. I can only see how much preparation I have made, and how much strength I can borrow from Heaven and Earth,” Song You said plainly.

“But as I said before, this old, decaying Heavenly Palace and the ever-advancing mortal world can no longer coexist. I am a disciple of Hidden Dragon Temple; I can no longer coexist with the gods of Heaven either.

“Rather than delay and leave the burden to those who come after me, I may as well act while I still have the will, the skill, and this rare opportunity...”

Song You then smiled faintly. “If it can be resolved in my generation, then I won’t leave it to the next.”

“...” The old man was once again silent.

The Daoist’s tone remained calm and composed, as if two recluses were chatting about worldly matters beneath a mountain tree. Yet the things he spoke of were so earth-shaking that it bordered on the unimaginable. And still, he did not sound like a man spouting fantasy or boasting wildly. His steady, unhurried tone gave off a sense of inevitability, that he would not only attempt it, but perhaps truly succeed.

And especially that faint smile was quiet, almost unremarkable, but paired with his final words, it stirred something in the old man’s heart: a rarely seen tremendous boldness.

If a thing must be done, why leave it for the next generation to suffer? Better that I attempt it, even if I do not know whether it will succeed.

That was true boldness.

Looking back from the present day, people often marvelled at the feats of those who came before: achievements that defied belief and challenges that seemed insurmountable. But what those later generations overlooked was the fact that those before them acted without knowing the ending. They pressed forward into uncertainty, not from hindsight, but from sheer will. Unlike their descendants, who already knew how history played out.

The old man found himself moved. His thoughts drifted into memory, trying to recall the last time he had seen someone with such resolve. Was their face still clear in his mind?

After a long pause, he finally drew back his gaze.

The terraced fields shimmered like mirrored glass, reflecting the azure of Heaven’s domain. Beneath the tree, a woolen mat was spread out, and the young Daoist still sat cross-legged there, meeting his eyes without flinching. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows across his body.

Beside him, a beautiful calico cat sat upright, seemingly not understanding the Daoist’s words. Yet it faintly sensed the weight in the air. Its expression turned serious, and even its tail stopped swaying. It simply sat by the Daoist’s side, head tilted up, staring at him without blinking.

Up in the tree above them, a swallow perched. The swallow, without a doubt, understood the ways of the world far better. Its eyes were filled with shock.

“What do you think?” The young Daoist still had his eyes fixed on the old man.

“This is a peach tree, isn’t it?” But the old man looked instead at the withered tree beside the Daoist. For some reason, he felt that if the tree were in full bloom, the scene beneath it would be quite beautiful.

“If only spring had come...”

“The Beginning of Spring has already begun.”

“Heh... Though you practice the Four Seasons Rotation Method, Daoist Master, you must know that the seasons vary by place, and the timing of Heaven is not uniform. Spring may come early in one place and late in another, it cannot be generalized,” the old man said with a chuckle.

“Then what do you think? When does spring truly arrive?” Song You leaned forward slightly, adopting a posture of respectful inquiry.

The old man only shook his head, not answering. Instead, he brought the conversation back to the heart of the matter, “Daoist Master, you certainly have bold ambition, but what if I were to say, you’re taking the life of a true dragon?”

“It is true that beneath the cloud pool[1] lies a real dragon. What your sect records as ‘the true dragons of the world have vanished’ isn’t wrong. The world is full of strange wonders and coincidences.”

“I would like to hear the full story.”

“The true dragon in the cloud pool is likely the last of its kind in the world. It’s been here who knows how many years. That true dragon is already dead, and its heart is gone. But by chance it fell here, and Heaven and Earth nurtured a spiritual resonance full of endless vitality. With the help of that essence, the dragon has been able to linger in this world to this day.” The old man spoke slowly.

He added, “However, though the dragon survives by that essence, it is also trapped by it. It cannot leave easily, and can only rise and take to the skies during the beginning of spring each year to see the vast world, to take a breath of air.”

Song You closed his eyes, silent for a moment. “Can a dragon truly live without a heart?”

“But can that... really be called living?”

The old man fell silent. Song You said just one sentence, and he had no words in return.

“I’ve never seen a true dragon,” Song You continued, eyes still closed, “but I’ve heard the tales, about how they soar through the skies and clouds, unbound, ever-changing. That speaks of freedom, of transcendence. My sect is named Hidden Dragon Temple, which is meant to represent a dragon lying in wait, concealed beneath the surface. Our disciples travel the world, unrestrained, practicing the Dao we choose, doing what we will.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the old man. “To cling to life ... might not even a true dragon grow weary of it?”

“You are no dragon, how can you know what a dragon thinks?”

“I overstepped.” Song You ended it there, not pressing further. He lifted his wine bowl and poured for the old man. “Please, elder, drink with me.”

“...” The old man raised his wine bowl and looked up at him. “It seems you’re determined to obtain that spiritual resonance.”

“But if that’s the case, if you have such cultivation and have already arrived here, why not just go down and retrieve the spiritual resonance yourself? Why sit here and wait in vain?”

“I’ve heard that a true dragon resides below. I don’t know if it’s true, but to disturb it rashly would be extremely discourteous. That’s why I want to wait a little longer. Even if I must eventually act without decorum, I’ll wait until there is truly no other choice.”

“Daoist Master, you’re certainly a man of manners.”

“Hahaha! Lucky indeed you didn’t go charging down for the treasure!” the old man threw his head back in laughter. “Over the years, it’s not as if no other powerful cultivators have come here, some with divine cultivation, but if they didn’t arrive around the beginning of spring, they never saw the true dragon. Even if they came during that time, if the dragon wasn’t willing to appear, they still wouldn’t see it. Do you think none of them tried going down?”

Song You lowered his eyes and remained silent.

He didn’t know who those “powerful cultivators” were, but as for those with “divine cultivation,” they were likely his own ancestors.

“If the true dragon remains calm, then at best one goes down and comes back out again. But if the dragon is angered, few could escape with their lives.” The old man’s tone was even. “This is the dwelling place of a true dragon. Even in ancient times, mighty beings wouldn’t casually enter another’s domain, let alone break into a Dragon Pool.”

Song You detected something in the old man’s tone. He set down his wine bowl and humbly asked. “Then, elder, in your opinion, what should I do?”

“If you can trust me, I can trust you too.”

“I didn’t say I trusted you.”

“Then I’ll be the one to trust first.”

“Haha! You really are an interesting fellow. Hahaha, I haven’t met someone as amusing as you in a long time!”

The old man set down his bowl and clapped his hands in laughter. His laugh was somewhat wild and unrestrained.

Even among recluses of the mountains, such a temperament was rare.

“I’m eager to hear your guidance, elder.”

“Stand up, pack your things, and head up that mountain.” The old man stretched out a hand and pointed up the slope toward the village of Bashu. “Walk five hundred steps, and don’t look back. I’ll go down first and see if I can explain your intentions and your bold spirit to the true dragon. Maybe I can persuade it to give up its last decade or so of clinging to life... and grant you the spiritual resonance.”

He paused, then threw his head back and laughed again. “Hahahaha! Just as you said, borrow a bit of power from Heaven and Earth!”

The cat turned its head and looked at the Daoist, and even the swallow above lowered its gaze to look at him.

“Good!” The Daoist didn’t hesitate in the slightest, and he stood up at once.

Then he packed his belongings, loaded them onto the horse’s back, and he picked up his bamboo staff and began walking up the mountain without a trace of doubt or delay.

The old man stood beside him, watching. His clouded eyes gleamed with a spark of light. And gradually, a faint smile spread across his face.

The Daoist’s figure grew smaller as he walked farther away. The jingle of the horse’s bell rang out amidst the white clouds.

The calico cat naturally followed the Daoist Master, but couldn’t help turning her head to stare at the old man. Then she glanced behind, frowning. “That old man... Do you think he might be lying to us?”

“Lady Calico, don’t look back.”

“I think he’s lying.”

“Yes.” The Daoist nodded, but didn’t stop walking. And just as agreed, he never looked back.

But at that moment, a figure came rushing down the mountain path. It was Mr. Liu.

“Sir! Hey—!” Sweating profusely and gasping for breath, he ran down the mountain trail, nearly stumbling several times, either from missteps or because his legs had run out of strength.

Only when he reached Song You did he stop, panting and looking at him in surprise. “Sir, you’re not waiting anymore? You’re leaving?”

“Sir! There’s something I must tell you!”

“What is it?” Song You slowed slightly, raising his head to look at him.

“Please don’t be alarmed, sir.”

“It’s about that old senior, isn’t it?”

“How did you know, sir?”

“It’s just as you guessed! Everything I said before was true! That old man really does live on Mount Mao'er to the south. But just earlier, I was visiting a friend in the village, and happened to meet a reclusive cultivator from the mountains who came to buy oil and salt. We chatted, and when I brought up that old gentleman, he told me that the old man died two years ago!”

Song You hadn’t said a word yet, but the cat froze for a moment, then immediately turned her head to look back.

Below the mountain were only terraces, layer upon layer, shrouded in rising mist. A leafless wild peach tree stood by the edge of the fields. Traces of their overnight stay were still faintly visible, but where was the old man?

The cat couldn't help but look back at the Daoist again. Mr. Liu also looked at him.

But the Daoist remained perfectly calm. He neither turned around nor spoke, just gripped his walking staff and continued his way up the mountain.

The jujube-red horse followed in silence.

“Ding ding ding...” The bell on the horse jingled gently.

A few recluses still remained higher up the mountain, But compared to a few days ago, the place now felt empty and still.

They hadn’t even reached the five hundred steps, when suddenly, from behind them, a deep, resonant dragon’s roar echoed through the mountains, accompanied by violent gusts of wind and a tremor that rippled through the earth and peaks, rushing up from below in an instant.

Song You halted, then instantly turned around.

In front of him were still the sloping terraces, and beyond them the cliff’s edge. Below, the sea of white clouds rolled endlessly. But the cloud pool, once nestled among the distant mountains, had disappeared from sight. And in its place, a colossal, mountain-sized azure figure soared upward from the depths of the cloud pool, rising straight into the sky.

There were no words to describe the sheer size of that form.

Its girth alone matched that of the mountain they stood upon, and as for its length, no one could tell. They could only see the shadow of its body endlessly rising before them and gigantic scales flashing past their eyes, which were too fast to make out.

The gusts of wind it stirred were so fierce that they ripped shrubs and wild trees from the cliff’s edge.

Even though Song You had walked some distance from the edge of the cloud pool, he nearly lost his footing in the violent air current and nearly swept up into the sky.

The dragon continued its ascent, its vast body already piercing into the blue heavens. Yet part of it still remained submerged in the cloud pool below.

Song You had once seen a flood dragon beyond the southeastern seas. That dragon had a thousand years of cultivation, claimed itself a true dragon, even called itself the Sea Dragon King. But compared to the being before him now, it was no more than a mudfish.

At last, the true dragon fully emerged, rising from the cloud pool.

Whether it was the middle-aged Mr. Liu beside him, or the few remaining recluses farther up the slope, everyone was stunned silent, even if they'd seen a dragon before.

Down in the village, countless doors and windows creaked open, and startled villagers peered out toward the sky.

For many children, this was their very first glimpse of such a creature.

The cloud pool itself was at least a hundred li across, and it was clearly a home built for the dragon. Now it had burst from its lair, soaring across the sky.

The very tip of its tail still dangled in the pool, its body coiling and twisting, while its lower parts brushed the mountains and mist below.

The majority of its massive form had already unfolded in the sky, as vast and grand as a mountain range.

The true dragon, with a glowing pearl cupped in its jaws, lowered its head to meet the gaze of a lone, insignificant Daoist standing on the mountainside.

The Daoist Master, leaning on his bamboo staff, held the dragon’s gaze.

The calico cat had already retreated to his feet, pressing tightly against his leg, seeking what little sense of safety she could find.

The swallow too was visibly stunned.

A green light slowly descended. It was the pearl from the true dragon’s mouth.

The Daoist respectfully reached out and received it with both hands.

When he looked back up at the dragon, it was no longer watching him. It was stretching its vast body across the sky, as if savoring a rare moment of freedom.

A short while later, the dragon lifted its head and inhaled deeply.

Then it suddenly lowered its head and exhaled.

The true dragon breathed, and the withered mountains turned green once more. Spring returned to the earth.

1. Yúnchí (云池) is a Chinese term that literally means “cloud pool.” It refers to a pool of water located on the summit of a high mountain. The core definition emphasizes the imagery of a serene, elevated body of water, often surrounded by clouds due to its altitude. In traditional Chinese literature and poetry, it can also carry connotations of purity, tranquility, or spiritual elevation. ☜