Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 771: Chapter 369: Seizing the Three Corpses, Attaining Supreme! Chongyang Zhenren (2)

The heavy clinking of chains continued to echo, and inside the Inner Scenery, there seemed to be flashes of lightning and claps of thunder.

"This world is like a rice dumpling. You think you’ve seen its true nature, but in reality, peel away one layer, and perhaps there’s another layer..."

"Only by attaining that Infinite Pure Yang can you truly see what lies at the end, at the very end!"

"Immortal Supreme Saint?" Zhang Fan muttered in a daze.

He thought he had entered the Mahasattva Realm and had a clear understanding of the Daoist Sect’s practice, but in the face of the Three Corpses Daoist’s memories, he seemed as naïve as a new recruit.

"Three feet above our heads, there are divine beings. Perhaps the Immortal Gods are right beside us, but we cannot see them, and even the Primordial Spirit Awakening might struggle to illuminate them."

The viewpoint of that mysterious, ethereal voice was a fresh revelation to Zhang Fan.

"Of course, what you see might not be the whole truth; as long as we are in this Red Dust, truth and falsehood interweave... Who can truly tell? It’s merely scenery on the road."

"Return to tranquility, this is called returning to one’s destiny..." Zhang Fan whispered softly to himself.

The simplest thing in this world is tranquility, yet it is also the most difficult thing.

"How should I do it?"

Zhang Fan fell into deep confusion. His mind was adrift, and the return of the Primordial Spirit seemed to him the ultimate form of tranquility—how much more tranquil could one become?

"I can help you..."

Suddenly, that mysterious, ethereal voice reverberated again, accompanied by the tremors of heavy chains. Immediately, chains turned into black shadows and emerged from the deepest part of the Inner Scenery, dancing like a Flood Dragon, wrapping around Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit.

Buzzing...

In an instant, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit was dragged into an endless, chaotic darkness. His Primordial Spirit became immensely heavy, as if sinking into an infinite ocean.

The suffocating pressure felt even more desperate and profound than falling into the Great Night. Looking up, Zhang Fan seemed to see an enormous shadow looming before him, unbelievably vast, seemingly merging with an endless abyssal ocean.

Dawn and dusk had fallen; all senses were muted.

In the endless chaos, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit appeared extremely insignificant, as if he had become a part of this place, forgetting his body, forgetting his practice, forgetting the purpose of this journey, even forgetting the Primordial Spirit itself...

All sounds ceased, and silence enveloped the universe. Suddenly, he opened his mouth wide, taking a deep breath.

With this single breath, it was as though he transitioned from life to death, and from death back to life.

"Am I out? Was it an Out-of-Body Experience?"

Zhang Fan was bewildered. The recent experience was too miraculous, the kind of tranquility he had never felt before, where thousands of mystic wonders became vibrant within a single breath.

"Divine illumination, habitual return, the Profound Passage miraculous point, all in a breath..."

Zhang Fan whispered, perceiving the various transformations just experienced.

A sudden breeze passed by, and as he looked up, he saw his Primordial Spirit floating in mid-air.

"Why has the sky turned dark?"

Zhang Fan was dazed; he had entered the Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery just moments ago, in broad daylight, yet now it was already night. Looking up, the sky was starless, and the moon resembled the cold eyes of a fox, indifferently gazing at the Mortal World.

In the darkness, Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit resembled a bright lamp, piercing through the chaotic darkness. Its light still illuminated the undulating Zhongnan Mountain Range.

"Hmm!?"

He looked down and saw the mountains below undulating like waves, as if he were standing upon a mighty river.

"What’s happening?"

Zhang Fan furrowed his brow. As he looked further out, drifting along for some time, a towering mountain suddenly appeared before him.

This mountain was even taller than Taiyi Peak, the main peak of Zhongnan Mountain, piercing the clouds and almost reaching the sky.

"Is this not Zhongnan Mountain?"

Zhang Fan wore a contemplative expression as his Primordial Spirit rose up, heading towards the towering mountain. It was hard to say how long it took, but as he drew closer, the mountain seemed to shrink until it became nothing more than a speck of dust, disappearing entirely.

"Was that an illusion?"

Zhang Fan stood still, examining himself, wondering whether there was something wrong with his Primordial Spirit.

Buzzing...

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Zhang Fan noticed a faint light flickering far in the distance, minuscule as dust, yet exceptionally striking amid the surging mountain range and the bewildering night.

Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit soared, flying toward the faint light. As he got closer, the faint light transformed into a small hill, manifesting directly in front of him.

Zhang Fan’s Primordial Spirit landed upon the hill, where he saw a peach tree, its blossoms flamboyant, blooming like a canopy.

"Such blooming Peach Blossoms."

Gazing from afar, Zhang Fan felt that the tree, in the quiet darkness, appeared strikingly eye-catching, like radiant brilliance, captivating the gaze, preventing him from taking even half a step away.

Crack... Crack...

At that moment, a crisp sound suddenly rang out, drawing Zhang Fan’s attention.

Looking down, Zhang Fan noticed a figure beneath the peach tree. The figure was slender, with hair styled in a Daoist topknot, a Peach Blossom stuck in it, a kerchief tied around the waist, and was wielding a hoe, continuously tilling the soil.

"There’s someone..."

Seeing this, Zhang Fan hurriedly approached.

"Uncle... Uncle..." Zhang Fan called out twice as he walked up.

The person didn’t lift their head, continuing only to dig the earth.

"Uncle, where is this place? What are you doing?" Zhang Fan asked.

"Digging a grave!" the person murmured without turning around. Their voice was peculiar, leaving no impression, yet it reverberated in the mind, lingering for a long time.

"Digging a grave? Who died?" Zhang Fan instinctively asked.

"Everyone in this world is dead, can’t you see?" the person whispered.

"Everyone is dead?"

Zhang Fan scrutinized the strange man in front of him with a peculiar expression. Next to the man, on the ground, lay an Ancient Sword, a Jade Pendant inlaid upon it.

"How can everyone be dead?" Zhang Fan mumbled.

"Can’t you see?"

"Humans only acknowledge daylight, not guarding the night, knowing only life, not knowing death... In this world, everyone is dead, so naturally, a grave must be dug to bury them all..."

As he spoke, the man straightened up, slowly turning to look at Zhang Fan.

"Zhang Fan, are you alive, or are you dead?"

With that single sentence, it was like the thunderous roar, deafening and enlightening.

Buzz...

In an instant, Zhang Fan suddenly opened his eyes, as if waking from a dream. He looked around, finding himself still in the room at Taiyi Temple.

His clothes were already drenched with sweat, and everything just felt like a vivid dream, ephemeral and unreal.

"Did my Primordial Spirit break through?"

Zhang Fan felt a jolt in his forehead as the Primordial Spirit split into the Ninth Layer of Primordial Light.

Great Master Ninth Realm!

At this moment, he had broken through the Realm and finally refined the Ninefold Primordial Light, stepping into the highest realm of the Great Master Realm.

Hearing the commotion, Meng Qiwu and Zhang Beijiang pushed the door open and entered.

"What happened?" Meng Qiwu stepped forward, asking.

"Nothing." Zhang Fan shook his head, "How long was I in seclusion?"

"Seven minutes."

"Seven minutes? I was only in seclusion for seven minutes?" Zhang Fan was bewildered, feeling that everything just now had been so unreal, as though he’d left for a day and a night.

"Any leads?" Meng Qiwu inquired further.

"In the Zhongnan Mountain area, where do Peach Blossoms bloom exceptionally vividly?" A thought struck Zhang Fan, and he suddenly asked.

"Peach trees!?" Meng Qiwu paused for a moment, then said, "Of course, it’s Luoying Mountain..."

"It’s said that Ancestor Master Chongyang once planted a Peach Tree on that mountain, ever since then, every spring, Peach Blossoms would bloom, radiant beyond compare."

"As flowers bloom and wither, Luoying Mountain got its name."

"Luoying Mountain!?"

"In Chongyang Zhenren’s later years, he often ascended this mountain to pick Peach Blossoms and pin them in his hair, admiring the Zhongnan Mountains." Meng Qiwu spoke softly and solemnly.

As the words fell, Zhang Fan’s eyes were drawn to a painting hanging on the southern wall of the room.

The painting depicted none other than Ancestor Master Chongyang’s Dharma Aspect—clad in a Daoist Robe fluttering in the wind, a Peach Blossom in his hair, holding a Long Sword, with a Jade Pendant inlaid on the Sword Scabbard, exceptionally striking.

"Ancestor Master Chongyang, Living Dead Tomb!?"

Staring at the painting, Zhang Fan’s eyes widened, his expression becoming extraordinarily vivid.

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