Li Muzhan supported Qingxuan, smiling faintly. “Senior, what do you think of this move? Please advise!”

Shangguan Hong glared at him coldly, snorting. “A fine trick of 'crossing the sea under camouflage,' impressive!”

She gritted her teeth inwardly, never imagining she would suffer such an unexpected defeat at the hands of a junior. The shame of it, especially in front of Patriarch Feng Ling!

Her gaze swept over. Daoist Feng Ling was already standing, looking over with a gentle smile.

"Hmph, I shall settle this score with you another day!” Shangguan Hong let out a sharp sneer, flashed suddenly, and vanished from the spot, disappearing into the dense woods leading toward the valley.

Daoist Qingxuan let out a long breath, quickly turning to Li Muzhan. “Master, are you alright?”

Li Muzhan swayed, collapsing limply, forcing a wry smile. “Not very well. I’ll need some time to recover.”

“Heh heh, truly a young hero emerges from the youth!” Daoist Feng Ling strode forward, looking completely unharmed. In a few quick steps, he was close enough to take Li Muzhan’s wrist.

Daoist Qingxuan asked, “Master, are you truly unharmed?”

“What do you mean, ‘unharmed’?!” Daoist Feng Ling glared, huffing, “I was merely playing along with my own scheme, intending to strike her, but I didn't expect the young Master to seize the initiative!”

Daoist Qingxuan seemed unconvinced, watching for a long moment before nodding slowly.

Daoist Feng Ling shot him a sidelong glance, then turned back, smiling. “Young Master, rest at the Shangqing Abbey for a while before you depart! Qingxuan, stop gawking and help the Young Master walk!”

Li Muzhan smiled. “Then I shall impose upon you!”

Daoist Feng Ling waved his hand dismissively. “Why be so polite? You saved Qingxuan’s life; you are a benefactor to our Shangqing Abbey. You are no outsider!”

As he spoke, he strode purposefully ahead. Daoist Qingxuan murmured quietly, “Master, let’s go.”

Li Muzhan nodded. His vital energy was currently thin, almost nonexistent. His arm throbbed as if scraped by a blade. He dared not circulate his gong further; a period of rest was precisely what he needed.

Besides, he was eager to witness the mysterious and profound Shangqing Abbey.

The nature of a reclusive sect—why they hide, what secrets they guard—held a fatal allure. Even with Li Muzhan’s considerable self-control, curiosity was hard to suppress.

Daoist Qingxuan gently supported him, and with a soaring leap, the three whisked along just above the treetops, heading up the mountain. After about a quarter of an hour, the trees grew taller, more massive, soaring skyward.

They landed and continued their swift movement close to the ground. Entangling vines blocked the path, forcing them to duck, leap up, or bend low.

Suddenly, the view opened dramatically, and an abbey sprang into sight.

“Master, this is the Shangqing Abbey,” Daoist Qingxuan pointed with pride.

Li Muzhan smiled faintly, examining the structure. It looked somewhat dilapidated; the mottled courtyard walls bore the scars of time, and the once-bright steps had been polished smooth by countless boots.

“Does it seem unworthy of its name?” Daoist Feng Ling stroked his beard and chuckled.

……………………………………………………

Li Muzhan smiled. “This is exactly the Shangqing Abbey I imagined!”

Daoist Feng Ling laughed. “Do you truly think so? You didn’t imagine a thriving incense trade and magnificent grandeur?”

Li Muzhan shook his head, smiling. “How can a reclusive sect be so ostentatious? Moreover, mountains are not revered for their height, but for the immortals they house; waters are not valued for their depth, but for the dragons they harbor.”

“Haha, well said, ‘Mountains are not revered for their height, but for the immortals they house; waters are not valued for their depth, but for the dragons they harbor.’ Excellent, excellent! Come, let’s go inside and take a look!” Daoist Feng Ling boomed with laughter.

Amidst his laughter, the grand gates of Shangqing Abbey swung wide. A dozen disciples floated out, clad in sapphire-blue robes, each radiating vibrant energy. They quickly approached.

“Master!” The Daoists clasped their fists.

“Enough chatter, let’s go inside!” Daoist Feng Ling waved a hand, his voice deep and full of authority.

The disciples glanced toward Li Muzhan. Daoist Qingxuan announced, “Elders, this is Master Mingkong.”

Li Muzhan bowed to them all with a slight smile.

He was inwardly startled. These dozen-odd Daoists were all young, perhaps Qingxuan’s age, yet their cultivation levels were astonishing—though slightly less than Qingxuan’s, they were nearly comparable. Any one of them would be a supreme master in the martial world, yet the Shangqing Abbey possessed more than a dozen. Their strength was truly astounding, far surpassing Canghai Mountain.

Daoist Feng Ling spoke sternly. “Mingkong is Qingxuan’s life-saving benefactor. Do not treat him as an outsider. Let’s go, quickly inside!”

The disciples bowed deeply, nodding to Li Muzhan, their expressions kind yet touched with surprise.

Supported by Qingxuan, Li Muzhan stepped onto the nine stone stairs and entered the abbey. Instantly, a refreshing coolness washed over him; the air felt indescribably comfortable.

Practicing the Tianyuan Breathing Technique, every pore on his skin was open, making him acutely sensitive to the surrounding atmosphere. He sensed that the air here was fundamentally different from outside.

He shelved his suspicion and followed them into the abbey.

The temple compound itself was unremarkable: a grand hall facing north, with side wings to the east and west. Everything was somewhat worn but meticulously clean and tidy, pleasing to the eye.

On either side of the hall steps stood a bronze censer, emitting wisps of pale smoke. A light breeze drifted through, distributing a faint, subtle fragrance across the entire courtyard.

Li Muzhan glanced back towards the mountain gate. The wind here was peculiar; it was perfectly channeled to feed the censers, and the air that entered had been subtly altered to ensure the smoke filled every corner of the yard.

Li Muzhan sensed the marvelous design; this could not be natural formation but deliberate modification. Yet, judging by the surrounding architecture, it appeared no different from any ordinary Daoist temple—except for this subtle, profound mechanism.

He admired it inwardly. Beneath an unpretentious exterior lay profound subtleties. The Shangqing Abbey truly could not be underestimated.

Daoist Feng Ling instructed, “Qingxuan, take the Young Master to the meditation room to rest for a while. We will speak again in the evening!”

“Yes, Master,” Daoist Qingxuan nodded, leading Li Muzhan to a quiet room on the east side.

……………………………………………………………………

This meditation room was small, furnished with extreme simplicity: only a couch and a prayer mat. On the north wall was painted a single, large character: “” (Jìng - Stillness), nothing else.

Li Muzhan surveyed the room. The pine floorboards emitted a faint, resinous scent. The prayer mat was large and matched the color of the floor, positioned directly beneath the character “.”

The character itself possessed an extraordinary aura. At first glance, it looked ordinary, perhaps just average calligraphy. But upon close inspection, a timeless, hidden flavor emerged; every stroke flowed like moving clouds or running water, resonating like clear springs striking stone, calming the mind and refreshing the spirit.

Li Muzhan stood with his hands behind his back, observing. His fingers twitched slightly as he silently attempted to trace the form, realizing how difficult it was to replicate. Even with his deep level of meditative clarity, he struggled to fully grasp the underlying spirit.

“A fine character! Truly fine!” he nodded in admiration.

Seeing this, Daoist Qingxuan urged, “Master, you should circulate your gong and recover quickly.”

Li Muzhan turned and smiled. “Daoist, who wrote this character?”

Daoist Qingxuan replied, “I don’t know. It seems to have been here forever… Why, is it exceptionally well written?” Li Muzhan nodded, smiling. “It is truly excellent calligraphy. The cultivator who wrote this must possess profound attainment. I am ashamed to compare myself!”

“We shall go ask the Master,” Daoist Qingxuan said. “Master, please sit down. If you need anything, just call out loudly for me.”

Li Muzhan nodded. “Very well, thank you for the trouble, Daoist.”

“No need for formalities.” Daoist Qingxuan smiled, backed out, and gently closed the door.

Li Muzhan turned back to continue studying the character “,” slowly allowing his spirit and mind to merge with it, completely immersed in its artistic essence.

The room fell into absolute stillness, all sound vanishing. Time itself seemed to halt.

Suddenly, his outer robe began to billow softly, and his body slowly lifted. The skin of his face shimmered with a soft glow, like polished white jade, and his eyes closed without his conscious direction.

His feet hung half a foot above the ground, motionless in the air. Only his robes surged and fell slowly, like undulating waves, moving with an inexplicable rhythm.

After about an hour, he suddenly snapped his eyes open. His gaze was like a bolt of cold lightning, instantly illuminating the room.

He drifted gently back to the floor, a smile spreading slowly across his face, dissolving into a hearty laugh that shook his head repeatedly.

Truly, the reward was found where it was least expected.

He raised a hand, and with a sharp chih sound, a streak of finger-force shot out, striking the wall near the window with a crisp pa sound, boring a small, clean hole right through.

He laughed aloud again. The Canghai Divine Sword truly lived up to its renown!

……………………………………………………

His Canghai Divine Skill had unknowingly broken through the barrier, reaching the eighth layer—perfected, balanced between Yin and Yang, water and qi merging seamlessly into a single, self-contained whole.

He tested the power of the Canghai Divine Finger; its might had indeed increased tremendously, transforming it into the true Canghai Divine Sword. His original conjecture had been correct.

With the Canghai Divine Skill advancing a layer, a surge of internal energy flowed in. Though not fully restored, his body felt revitalized, the comfort indescribable. The true marvel of the Canghai Divine Skill was finally revealed.

The internal energy circulated through his body, causing a delightful relaxation, as if soaking in a warm spring—a sensation so vivid it was indistinguishable from being physically immersed in water.

When the Canghai Divine Skill reached the eighth layer, it was considered complete. As for the ninth layer, the ancient text contained only a few cryptic sentences and no true cultivation method—merely a prediction. Clearly, the founding patriarch who created the Canghai Divine Skill had never achieved the ninth layer himself.

Once the skill reached completion, the circulating internal energy felt exactly like genuine spring water—truly miraculous and supremely comfortable. He allowed the energy to flow continuously.

“Master?” Daoist Qingxuan called softly from outside, his voice faint.

Li Muzhan flicked his sleeve, and the door opened. Daoist Qingxuan stood outside, startled.

Li Muzhan smiled. “Daoist, I am fine now. Is Senior Feng Ling well?”

“Master is also recovered; he is fine,” Daoist Qingxuan confirmed.

“That’s good. Let us go to the Senior’s quarters then,” Li Muzhan suggested.

Daoist Qingxuan readily agreed, examining Li Muzhan closely. “Congratulations, Master. Your martial arts have advanced significantly, have they not?”

Li Muzhan chuckled, nodding. “Indeed. A blessing born from disaster—I was very fortunate!”

“That is truly cause for celebration,” Daoist Qingxuan replied happily.

Li Muzhan smiled. “Though I have made a small advancement, compared to you, Daoist, I still have a long way to go.”

Daoist Qingxuan shook his head. “We are quite close; I am no stronger than you.”

Li Muzhan smiled, deciding not to argue further. Now that the Canghai Divine Skill had made a massive qualitative leap, once his internal energy recovered, he would indeed be comparable to Daoist Qingxuan.

The two left the meditation room and arrived at the central room on the west side. Standing at the doorway, Daoist Qingxuan knocked lightly. “Master? Master?”

“Enter,” Daoist Feng Ling’s authoritative voice sounded from within.

Daoist Qingxuan pushed the door open, and Li Muzhan followed close behind as they entered the room together.

This room was similar to Li Muzhan’s, furnished with only a couch and a prayer mat, but it also contained a long table bearing a qin, chess pieces, and writing implements.

Daoist Feng Ling sat upon the prayer mat. He gestured toward the mat opposite him, and both Li Muzhan and Daoist Qingxuan sat down, crossing their legs.

Daoist Feng Ling’s eyes were sharp and brilliant, and his face, as fine as jade, was permeated with a soft, purplish aura.

He examined Li Muzhan up and down a few times, nodding. “Hmm, very good. After that exchange, you must have gained some profound insight, yes?”

Li Muzhan nodded. “Yes. My experience battling Senior Shangguan was immensely beneficial!”

…………………………………………………………

“That’s true. Sparring with a master is very helpful for one’s own development,” Daoist Feng Ling agreed with a sigh, nodding. “However, fighting Shangguan Hong is like playing with death; one slip and your life is forfeit. You are certainly blessed with a long life!”

Li Muzhan laughed. “I owe it to Senior’s timely intervention, otherwise, I would surely be dead.”

“I can only say your fate was not yet concluded, and we happened to find you then,” Daoist Feng Ling shook his head.

Li Muzhan smiled and said no more.

Daoist Feng Ling studied him, nodding slowly. “Rare! Truly rare! At your young age, to achieve this level!”

Li Muzhan smiled humbly. “You flatter me, Daoist. Compared to Daoist Qingxuan, I am still a step behind; it is nothing extraordinary.”

Daoist Feng Ling shook his head. “He is different from you. He grew up beside me from childhood, nurtured by my dedicated effort to achieve what he has. You, I presume, mostly cultivated on your own?”

Li Muzhan smiled. “How did Senior know?”

Daoist Feng Ling snorted. “Though there are many talents in the world today, those who reach your stage are countable on one’s fingers, and they are all from reclusive sects. You are not a disciple of a reclusive sect, are you?”

Li Muzhan nodded. “That is correct. This disciple is a pupil of the Canghai Sword Sect; my master’s Daoist name is Zhuzhao.”

“Zhuzhao,” Daoist Feng Ling nodded. “She was just a young girl back then. She is the sect leader of the Canghai Sword Sect now, is she not?”

Li Muzhan nodded. “Senior knows my master?”

“Yes, I met her two or three times,” Daoist Feng Ling replied, sighing, “Time forces aging upon everyone; she has become a sect leader already.” He then looked up. “You are a disciple of the Canghai Divine Sword and practice the Canghai Divine Skill? Hmm, and it is complete now?”

Li Muzhan nodded.

Daoist Feng Ling chuckled. “The Young Master is indeed formidable. Achieving perfection in the Canghai Divine Skill—you are only the second person in the history of the Canghai Sword Sect to do so!”

Daoist Qingxuan asked, “Master, why only the second person?”

“The founding patriarch was the first,” Daoist Feng Ling shot him a look.

Daoist Qingxuan looked slightly embarrassed, realizing he had asked a foolish question.

Daoist Feng Ling smiled slyly. “Young Master, now that your Canghai Divine Skill is complete, do you know the next step in your practice?”

Li Muzhan shook his head. This was precisely what he most wanted to know. (To be continued)