Make the Immortal Sect Great Again

Year 995 of Great Shun, Shuzhong, Changle Commandery, Longxing County, Front Village.

The bitter winter cold had set in. By now, the bleak autumn winds had grown increasingly harsh, turning into invisible blades that endlessly slashed away at the vitality of the land.

Even so, at the break of dawn, the black-headed commoners of Front Village wrapped their clothes tight, pushed open their doors, and braved the bitter cold to step outside. Some resolved to head up the mountain and chop wood, while others decided to try their luck in the nearby Longxing County City, hoping to find work.

People gathered along the muddy village paths.

None of them spoke. Even neighbors merely nodded in greeting when they crossed paths; opening their mouths meant swallowing a mouthful of icy wind.

The sprawling village was dead silent.

Between the silent footsteps of the black-headed commoners and the howling of the frigid wind, the entire village resembled a frozen beast sprawled deep within the mountain woods.

...

Once the crowd reached the village entrance, they went their separate ways. Some headed for the back mountain, others toward the county city, and the rest walked toward the northern end of the village.

It did not look large from the outside—it was practically shabby—but as they approached, a scorching gust of wind hit their faces.

Inside the temple, a massive incense burner sat dead center. Piles of coke had been tossed in and set ablaze, sending up a soaring wave of heat that banished the harsh winter chill. The voices echoing from within made the temple the sole place of vitality in this freezing season.

"Ah... so comfortable!"

Several villagers from Front Village let out long, satisfied sighs the moment they stepped inside. Soon after, a young man draped in a Daoist robe walked out from the rear courtyard.

"Is everyone here?" the young Daoist asked.

"Greetings, Senior Brother Xie."

The villagers bowed one after another, their expressions filled with an indescribable fanaticism. They intertwined their fingers to form a lotus-shaped hand seal and chanted in praise:

"Lotus Descends to the World, Universal Salvation for All."

Hearing this, the young Daoist formed the same seal and returned the greeting before saying, "Master has been waiting for you for quite some time. Follow me inside."

The group followed him into the rear courtyard, only to find over a dozen men in the prime of their lives. Built like young calves, they clearly ate meat with every meal. They were currently practicing martial arts, throwing punches while shouting with vigorous breath, radiating youthful energy and sweating freely.

Leading them was another young man.

He stood bare-chested, sweat rolling down his shoulders and back. His skin gave off a bronze luster beneath the sunlight, his features sharply defined, and his face handsome and elegant.

"Junior Brother, hold on a moment."

The young Daoist called out loudly, but the young man didn't respond. Instead, he stood frozen in place, seemingly lost in memory, unable to snap out of it.

"Junior Brother?" Seeing this, the young Daoist grew curious.

"...I'm fine."

Wang Ping shook his head, banishing the daze from his eyes. He quickly pulled himself together and smiled. "Master is back? And he wants to see us?"

"Indeed."

The young Daoist smiled. "Junior Brother, you've been working tirelessly to organize the congregation in Front Village. Your contributions are significant, and Master came back specifically for you."

"Your good days are finally here, Junior Brother!"

Upon hearing this, Wang Ping instantly revealed a look of joy.

Deep down, however, his emotions didn't ripple in the slightest. He even felt a bit like laughing—what good days could there possibly be in the feudal society of an ancient dynasty?

Just being alive was already a blessing from the heavens.

It had been twenty years since he crossed over. For twenty years, he had eked out a living in this wretched place known as Great Shun, thoroughly blending into the life here.

Barring any accidents, he would end up just like Ergou next door—taking a wife from the village, having a few kids, working at sunrise, and resting at sunset. If he could just live a peaceful life like that, he would successfully die on his little plot of land around the age of thirty.

When he first crossed over, he had extravagantly hoped for some kind of cheat.

But by now, after countless bouts of anger, despair, and self-consolation, he had long abandoned such unrealistic delusions.

That being said, Wang Ping hadn't simply given up on life either.

Over his twenty years here, he had played all sides and exhausted every method to finally land a job, allowing him to feed himself while putting aside a little savings.

"Come on, everyone, gather round."

The young Daoist beckoned with his hand, and Wang Ping followed closely behind. Soon, the crowd in the temple assembled and walked into the rear courtyard's main hall with solemn expressions.

On the pillars flanking the main hall hung a couplet:

The earth shakes the high ridges, a sweep of streams and mountains eternally grand.

The gates face the great sea, the converging river waters flow for ten thousand years.

Wang Ping raised his head, spotting a four-character horizontal scroll above the main doors:

Boundless Mercy and Salvation.

Just then, an aged voice rang out:

"These are the words left behind by the Grandmaster when he founded our lineage. He was moved by the natural sights of heaven and earth, and wrote them down as a memorial."

Wang Ping looked toward the voice. Only then did he notice a desk placed in the seat of honor inside the hall. Various offerings and a shrine sat atop it. Beside it, an old Daoist priest in a tattered robe leaned against the shrine, casually grabbing the offerings from the table and smacking his lips as he ate them.

"Master!" The young Daoist frowned. "You're eating the Grandmaster's offerings again!"

The old Daoist waved his hand dismissively. "It can't be helped. A foolish emperor rules, and the world is in chaos. We're forced by the need to survive; the Grandmaster will surely understand."

"You still shouldn't eat the offerings."

The young Daoist shook his head and lowered his voice. "Master, you will regret this."

"Shut up, I am the Sect Master!"

With that, the old Daoist waved for the young man to stand aside. The young Daoist clearly wasn't about to coddle him; he turned around and violently slammed the doors shut.

"Bang!"

As the doors closed, the once-bright hall suddenly plunged into gloom. The face of the old Daoist sitting by the shrine was now mostly shrouded in darkness.

Wang Ping instantly realized something was wrong. A master and disciple argue, and one storms out... it looks like a farce, but in reality, he sealed the hall before anyone could react. If that guy Xie Shi is guarding outside, we're well and truly trapped like turtles in a jar.

Wang Ping's heart quietly leapt into his throat.

"Fellow brothers."

The old Daoist spoke up just then, his expression nostalgic. "Twenty years ago, it was right here in Front Village that I embarked on my journey, raising an army to resist the tyranny of Great Shun."

The old Daoist sighed softly. "Lotus Descends to the World, Universal Salvation for All. Just how immense was the momentum of that slogan back then? Was there a single county city in Changle Commandery that didn't answer our call? Wherever the White Lotus Sect went, the people welcomed us with utmost sincerity. That vibrant scene of all things flourishing is still vivid in my mind."

"However..."

At this point, the old Daoist suddenly changed his tone. "Could it be that after a mere twenty years, this place has transformed into our burial ground?"

"Sect Master... what do you mean?" someone asked.

"What do I mean?"

The old Daoist shook his head. His expression grew increasingly sorrowful as he looked at the crowd and spoke in a faint voice. "I have already investigated it thoroughly. There is a traitor among us."

A traitor!?

The moment the words left his mouth, an uproar swept through the crowd. Everyone in the hall looked stunned. They subconsciously glanced around at one another, their expressions turning scrutinizing.

At the same time, a look of sudden realization dawned on someone's face, and they said bitterly, "No wonder the White Lotus Sect's cause has suffered repeated setbacks in recent years! We've had to relocate our halls multiple times, only to be chased like dogs by the authorities without the strength to fight back... So it's because we have a traitor in our ranks!"

"Investigate! We must conduct a thorough investigation!"

Just then, Wang Ping stood up. His expression was resolute, his eyes burning with fanatic zeal as he declared without hesitation, "Lord Sect Master, please give the order!"

At his words, quite a few people immediately looked at him.

"Give an order?"

"What order?"

Even the old Daoist by the shrine looked bewildered. Out of sheer curiosity, he asked, "Let's hear it, Wang Ping. What order do you want me to give?"

Wang Ping surveyed his surroundings, his tone calm.

"Let us kill ourselves."

As soon as he spoke, the previously bustling hall plunged into extreme, dead silence. Even the old Daoist's mouth fell slightly open in surprise.

Wang Ping paid no mind to their reactions and continued, "If the mole had already been identified, the Lord Sect Master wouldn't have called us all here. It's obvious that we are all suspects. However, accurately fishing out the mole from so many people is undoubtedly like looking for a needle in a haystack."

"So we might as well get it done in one step."

At this, Wang Ping's tone grew incomparably solemn.

"We all commit suicide. If we all die, the mole naturally dies as well. As for the loyal congregation who perish because of this, they can enter the Homeland of True Emptiness after death."

"Why wouldn't we gladly do it?"

"..."

The silence in the hall grew deafening.

Seeing this, Wang Ping furrowed his brows tightly. "What's wrong? Are you not loyal members of the White Lotus Sect? Since you are loyal, you shouldn't hesitate when it's time to die."

"You must understand, the most important figure in the White Lotus Sect is the Lord Sect Master. He is the sun to the congregation. If we die, the sun can continue to shine upon all things."

"But if the sun dies, how can we live?"

"Besides, death only affects our physical bodies. Our souls will enter the Homeland of True Emptiness and attain eternal life. Why should we be afraid?"

After Wang Ping finished speaking, the crowd exchanged bewildered glances.

Finally, they looked at Wang Ping with indescribable expressions, as if to ask: Wait, do you actually believe that nonsense about the Homeland of True Emptiness?

If a person is killed, they die!

Seeing that the crowd still remained silent, Wang Ping shook his head and directly drew the short blade at his waist. "If that's how it is, I'll be the first..."

Swish—!

The blade flashed, but no blood sprayed out. A split second before Wang Ping could slit his own throat and ascend to heaven, another dazzling silver light stopped him.

"Alright, little brother Wang, you're still a bit too extreme."

The old Daoist chided him lightly, making Wang Ping sit back down. Then he continued, "In any case, purging the mole is imperative."

"I have decided to entrust this task to someone who is loyal, reliable, and worthy of trust."

The old Daoist looked at Wang Ping and smiled.

"Wang Ping, I remember you. When I first left Front Village to found the White Lotus Sect, you had just been born. I even held you when you were a baby."

"Among the congregation, aside from Xie Shi, you are the one I trust the most."

"You will take charge of this mission."

Wang Ping immediately stood up and said excitedly, "I guarantee its completion..."

At that moment, as if recalling something, the old Daoist quickly added, "Do not slaughter the innocent. I want to see conclusive evidence proving the mole's identity."

"...Oh."

Wang Ping sat back down, deadpan.

Seeing him like this, the old Daoist felt somewhat helpless. He had no choice but to change the subject. "From today onward, you are the Hall Master of our Front Village branch."

"Understood."

Wang Ping bowed respectfully.

Since they were investigating a mole, they naturally had to restrict entry and exit. As a result, everyone was placed under house arrest inside the main hall. Only Wang Ping was permitted to leave temporarily.

"You've been practicing martial arts all morning; you haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Outside the hall, the young Daoist Xie Shi was indeed standing guard. Had the mole truly tried to force their way out just now, they would have been swiftly slain by him lying in wait.

"Come on, let me take you to get some food," Xie Shi offered warmly.

"Then I'll have to trouble you, Eldest Senior Brother."

Wang Ping cupped his hands in thanks and remarked casually, "Why don't we go to my house first? To investigate who the mole is, I'm afraid I'll inevitably need some interrogation tools..."

"That works!"

Xie Shi's tone was easygoing. The two men left the Daoist temple at a brisk pace and arrived at a courtyard compound in the northwest corner of Front Village. This was Wang Ping's house.

Five years ago, this had only been a thatched cottage.

But ever since he joined the White Lotus Sect on the recommendation of the village elders five years ago, the thatched cottage had gradually been upgraded into a brick house, and eventually into a large courtyard compound.

Now, he had even become a Hall Master in the White Lotus Sect.

With this status, he no longer had to worry about food, even in winter. Meat for all three meals was standard, and he could occasionally afford to spend money in the neighboring county city.

In this day and age, he could be considered a wealthy local squire.

There was just one small problem.

Wang Ping walked all the way into the compound and gestured for Xie Shi to sit down. He then headed to the woodshed, only to see a fat black rat suddenly squeeze out from a hole in the corner of the wall.

The rat's eyes were bright. With coal ash coating its tiny claws, it smoothly wrote a line of words on the ground:

Tomorrow, at the hour of Shen, rendezvous at the Outer Market outside the city.

"..."

Wang Ping swept a glance over it before raising his foot to kick the rat away, simultaneously wiping out the ash writing on the ground—this was his small problem:

He was the mole the old Daoist had been talking about.

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