The Southern Liang Kingdom was a vast nation, its territory nearly a hundred times that of the Wu Kingdom, placing it as a mid-tier power on the Central Continent. Such nations were common in the Central Continent. Because the Southern Liang Kingdom lay upon the Great Plains, its interior was crisscrossed by numerous rivers, its soil fertile, its weather favorable, resulting in bumper harvests year after year, allowing the populace to live in relative peace.

However, the most marvelous aspect of the Southern Liang Kingdom was not the sheer breadth of its domain, nor its rich and fertile lands. It was the countless legends circulating among the common folk about immortals descending to the mortal realm—tales found even in the most remote border towns.

There were stories of ordinary people, such as: “In one year, an immortal maiden descended, took a liking to a poor scholar studying diligently in hardship, intending to form an eternal bond, but was obstructed and separated by an evil fiend. One immortal and one mortal endured countless tribulations and twists of fate, ultimately overcoming the difficulties and growing old together in affection.”

And then there were the more legendary court sagas, like: “In another year, a great immortal descended to the world, specifically choosing the sitting Grand Scholar of the Southern Liang Kingdom as his disciple, imparting to him three volumes of heavenly scripture. The scholar pondered intensely for ten years, then suddenly achieved enlightenment overnight, abandoning the mundane world, and soaring away through the void. For a time, all the civil and military officials, from the Emperor down to the court ministers, were so envious that they neglected their state duties, focusing solely on the path to ascension.”

The storytellers in the taverns and tea houses across Southern Liang would recount these legends with vivid animation, spittle flying, as if they had witnessed the events firsthand. The common villagers below listened, utterly captivated and lost in longing, wishing they could be that poor scholar or that Grand Scholar. Perhaps this was because the authors of these tales were themselves scholars, as scholars were the protagonists in a great many of these legends.

Because so many immortal stories circulated, nearly every temple and Taoist shrine, large or small, throughout Southern Liang displayed the plaque of some immortal, vying for the patronage of devout men and women, leading to flourishing incense offerings. From the high ministers of the court to the common people, regardless of whether the immortal was real or fabricated, or the temple genuine or fraudulent, they would first offer their prayers to show sincerity. After all, who knew when some true immortal within that very hall might achieve transcendence, raining down strokes of good luck that might fall upon their dogs and chickens.

It must be said that while most of the Southern Liang Kingdom consisted of the Great Plains, to its west lay a plateau steppe vastly wider and more immense than the kingdom itself. The steppe was barren, sparsely populated, with wildlife nearly extinct. Most importantly, this expanse of Gobi did not belong to the Southern Liang Kingdom, nor to any other nation.

It was said that long ago, perhaps three to five thousand years past, a visionary emperor emerged in Southern Liang who suddenly conceived the idea of bringing this vast western plateau steppe under the jurisdiction of his kingdom. He immediately and enthusiastically consulted his ministers on strategies for military deployment.

But before any plan for invasion could be finalized, this ambitious emperor, along with dozens of royal relatives and ministers who had participated in the discussion, all died suddenly within a few days. The Southern Liang court changed hands overnight; a new emperor ascended the throne. From then on, the entire court flinched at the mention of the Western Frontier, never daring to harbor any thought of territorial expansion in that direction again.

Following this upheaval, rumors spread throughout the populace of Southern Liang that the high plateau steppe was the domain of immortals, strictly forbidden to mortal feet. They whispered that any accidental offense to the immortals would invite dire misfortune.

The winding official post road of the Southern Liang Kingdom’s western frontier terminated at a small border town. This town was remote, yet peaceful and quiet. The streets were orderly, paved with blue bricks, ancient and worn. Thatched and tiled houses lined the streets in a neat arrangement, capable of housing at least one or two thousand residents.

At dawn, thin tendrils of smoke curled upwards from the chimneys within the town. A few clusters of townsfolk were already up and starting their labor.

Two riders on fine horses proceeded slowly and deliberately along the official post road of the Southern Liang Kingdom, arriving at the small town. Judging by their appearance, both riders were young. One was about seventeen, with ordinary looks, clad in a coarse blue robe, carrying a bundle on his back, appearing calm and gentle. The other was perhaps fifteen, a sharp sword belted at his waist, his face still full of youthful innocence, constantly glancing about.

Early in the morning, there were few people on the streets; only the two riders disturbed the quiet.

The two men rode slowly side-by-side, conversing as they went.

“Brother Ye, the last time I accompanied my father here to Xian Yuan City, I only remember passing through the Southern Liang Kingdom and arriving at this westernmost town. But I have completely forgotten the route for the path ahead.”

These two were none other than Ye Qin and Nan Zhongjie. They had spent nearly a full year traveling without rest, pushing day and night for eight hundred li, constantly changing horses, to reach the western frontier of the Southern Liang Kingdom from the distant Wu Kingdom. Now that they were here, however, they encountered a small obstacle: Nan Zhongjie could not recall the final leg of the journey.

Nan Zhongjie looked vaguely towards the Gobi outside the town and admitted with some embarrassment, “I am quite confused about the way forward.”

Ye Qin reined in his steed, gazing out toward the plateau. The entire high plateau steppe was enveloped in a vast, pale morning mist, stretching to an unseen horizon. Xian Yuan City was clearly undetectable by the naked eye, even from within the Gobi.

This left him feeling slightly helpless; they had reached the threshold, only to forget the directions for the final stretch.

Ye Qin said, “If you truly cannot remember, we can stay within the Southern Liang Kingdom for a while. Southern Liang is so large and close to Xian Yuan City; there must be many cultivation families around here. We might be able to find one or two cultivators and ask the way to Xian Yuan City. That’s surely better than searching aimlessly across the Gobi without a clue.”

Nan Zhongjie nodded sheepishly. “That sounds reasonable, Brother Ye. Let’s head back into Southern Liang first. This Gobi is too desolate; if we run into some malicious cultivators by chance, things could turn grim.”

The two turned their horses and rode back along the official road.

In the town, an energetic old woodcutter, carrying a heavy load of firewood on a shoulder pole, passed by. Seeing the two men, Ye Qin and Nan Zhongjie, he stopped in surprise, hastily setting down his burden, offering a bow, and calling out, “Greetings to the two Immortal Seniors.”

Ye Qin was startled and curiously examined the old woodcutter with his Spiritual Sight technique, discovering he was merely an ordinary woodcutter without any magical power. He couldn't help but ask, perplexed, “Elder, how did you know that we two are cultivators?”

The old woodcutter chuckled heartily. “When I was young, I had the good fortune to meet an immortal. That immortal instructed me to chop three loads of firewood daily, bringing them along with some oil, salt, tea, and other goods to deliver to the Immortal City. I have been performing this chore for decades and have encountered numerous immortals. Though I am old now, my eyes are dim, but through constant exposure, I can instantly recognize the bearing and spirit of you two Immortal Seniors—it is identical to the immortals in Xian City. You must certainly be immortals.”

Ye Qin grew even more surprised. “You have met many cultivators?”

The old woodcutter laughed, “Indeed! There are many immortals with profound abilities within Xian City, and there are also quite a few mere mortals like myself.”

Ye Qin and Nan Zhongjie exchanged a glance, overjoyed. They had been fretting over how to find the path to Xian Yuan City, and unexpectedly, they had encountered an old woodcutter familiar with the situation. This was a massive help.

“In that case, Elder, you know where the Immortal City is located?”

“I was just heading to the Immortal City to deliver my firewood. If the two Immortal Seniors wish to go there, this old man is willing to accompany you.”

“Thank you!”

The old woodcutter picked up his firewood and walked ahead, chattering incessantly along the way about the various immortal encounters from his past. Within Xian Yuan City, there were mundane and trivial matters, things like firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea, that the cultivators disdained to handle. Naturally, mortals like them were needed for such chores. Those who worked for the immortals received better wages and many benefits. There were quite a few secular mortals in this small town just like the old woodcutter.