Chapter 117: Sighing Helplessly Before the Vast Ocean (Bonus Chapter for Monthly Votes)

The Battle of the Third Realm on West Kunlun Mountain did not last long. Perhaps it was because all seven Golden Core cultivators of the Blood God Sect appeared, adopting a do-or-die stance; or perhaps because the Northern Yin Hall Master of the Ice and Snow Palace was no less formidable than the Golden Core Sword Immortals of Sanqing Mountain, and demonstrated an unwavering determination to stand or fall with the Blood God Sect. Ultimately, however, it was likely due to the Blood God’s child’s instantaneous suppression of Shang Sansi’s divine consciousness.

Among the Third Realm battles, the clash between the Northern Yin Hall Master of the Ice and Snow Palace and the Sword-Throwing Mountain Lord of Sanqing Mountain was the fiercest. The collision of the “Northern Star Aurora Heavenly Gang” and the “White Tiger Sky-Rending Sword Gang” unleashed brilliant light that changed the sky’s hue over the Western Sea, as if an artist had spilled ink upon a canvas of azure, staining only this area in vivid colors.

This battle revealed the true strength of these two combatants. Some speculated that both had surpassed the Seventh Washing level; if they could ascend to the Fourth Realm, they would immediately be able to contend with some of the veteran Fourth Realm masters.

Their fight was so spectacular that the other Third Realm skirmishes seemed mundane by comparison. Eventually, the other Third Realm combatants ceased fighting and instead watched the duel.

They battled for an entire day and night, tearing apart the wind, snow, and clouds of West Kunlun with their overwhelming energy. By the next day, the skies cleared bright and sunny over the Western Kunlun in the heart of winter.

Their duel ended in mutual injury, both retreating to the mountains, coughing up blood.

Amid this breathtaking Third Realm battle, only a few noticed that Huo Jingyan had taken Cheng Xinzhan away overnight back to Sanqing Mountain.

Afterward, no one ever saw Cheng Xinzhan again on West Kunlun, but everyone remembered the young man who had escaped the grasp of high cultivators in the Third Realm. His name, Cheng Yifu, became widely known.

As for the divine illusion that had stunned all that day, some believed it was Cheng Yifu’s protective spiritual treasure illustration, while others thought it was the manifestation of a serpent pearl passed down from antiquity.

Only a very few Taoist masters recognized it as Cheng Xinzhan’s internal spiritual manifestation made external—a blessing to those friendly with Sanqing Mountain, and a cause for concern among its enemies.

To manifest an internal spirit externally at just the First Realm meant that this young man would undoubtedly be able to form a Golden Core Dharma Image with ease upon reaching the Third Realm, and creating a Dao Domain at the Fourth Realm would be no great challenge.

This was the peak martial strength Sanqing Mountain could boast for the next several centuries.

After a day and night of battle in the Third Realm, the next day, the Second Realm disciples resumed their assault on the mountain as if nothing had happened, except that the person who had instigated the Third Realm conflict never appeared again.

——

Six months later.

The blood clouds still lingered atop West Kunlun, the snow remained, but the snow beneath had melted into streams, weaving fields of wildflowers and fresh grass.

A young man squatted beside a creek, dipping his hand into the icy water. It bit cold, but his palm radiated Taoyin energy, merging with the water. Soon, blood and deathly miasma flowed from upstream, converging in his palm into a filthy mud pellet.

He withdrew his hand, clenched his fist, and flames of golden fire ignited in his palm, reducing the filth to nothingness.

In the past six months, many had perished around West Kunlun, leaving blood and corpses everywhere, many of them souls claimed by this young man’s sword.

Though the bodies were collected, the bloodstains remained on the snow.

But with summer's arrival, the snow melted, and the blood mixed with the runoff to form polluted streams.

Whenever the young man saw such streams, he would cast spells to purify them, restoring their clarity.

After burning away the filth, he stood and looked at a figure fallen by the stream.

This was a fiend of the Blood God Sect, who watched the young man effortlessly cleanse the tainted creek. He was certain he had never provoked such a righteous prodigy and could not understand why this water mage of the righteous path had hunted him relentlessly for months.

At first, he had escaped easily, even nearly turning the tables. But as time passed, the prodigy’s power grew astonishingly fast. He often wondered if they even lived under the same sky or in the same time stream, so rapid was his progress.

Several times, he barely survived, but whenever he appeared, he was targeted—until today, when he was utterly defeated.

This person’s water arts had grown profound enough that the streams and snow across the mountains seemed like his weapons, yet from his earlier actions, he clearly did not treat water as mere weaponry.

“You have purified the stream; the herdsmen downstream will be grateful,” the fiend said as the young man approached with flames in hand.

Surprised, the young man did not expect the fiend to care about such things.

“Who exactly are you, and why have you been fixated on me?” the fiend demanded.

The young man answered with a single word:

“Suppress.”

A phantom mountain manifested, pinning the fiend down completely.

The fiend’s eyes widened—the voice! The incantation!

“Burn!”

Golden flames erupted upon the fiend’s body.

“It’s you!”

——

The fiend finally recognized him and understood why he refused to relent.

“Hahaha, fine! Fine! If I cannot kill you, then let me die by your hand along with my men. Perhaps it will be easier for you to find them this way! Please grant me the same death!”

The fiend laughed heartily amid the flames, feeling relieved. He had thought the killer of his men would never appear again.

“Rend!”

The young man ended the fiend’s life with the Golden Severing Curse; golden flames quickly reduced the fiend to ashes.

“Senior Brother Miaoyuan, I have avenged you,” he thought.

Shortly after killing He Si, a streak of retreating light appeared beside him, taking human form—it was Huo Jingyan from Sanqing Mountain’s External Affairs Institute.

“Xinzhan, it’s time to leave,” Huo Jingyan said.

It turned out that the young man who looked entirely different was actually Cheng Xinzhan using a transformation technique.

In truth, after returning to Sanqing Mountain from West Kunlun to report everything to the sect and show the true form and spells, he changed his appearance and followed a new group of Sanqing Mountain disciples rotating through the battles on West Kunlun.

In six months, waves of righteous disciples had come and gone, but he had not left.

Hearing Huo Jingyan’s words, he was somewhat puzzled.

Huo Jingyan continued, “The righteous disciples have rotated through in waves, and the Blood God Sect’s First and Second Realm disciples have suffered an 80% casualty rate. For the next fifty years, the Blood God Sect will have to lay low and recuperate, unable to invade southward to plague the Central Plains.

“Even now, the Blood God Sect leader is at his limit of tolerance. If the fighting continues, it will be a battle to the death, wiping out entire clans. For us, it is simply not worth the cost. Other sects have gradually withdrawn, leaving only Sanqing Mountain and Emei.”

Cheng Xinzhan was silent for a long time.

Huo Jingyan waited quietly. As a candidate for the sect leader, Cheng had to understand certain truths and make some choices.

Sanqing Mountain had endured to this day without losing its principles and kindness, but it was not a sect that tolerated the slightest impurity.

After a while, Cheng Xinzhan nodded. “Director, I understand. But I am not here merely to kill demons—I am also studying the northern terrain and coldness, which benefits my cultivation. You and the others should return first. I plan to remain around the Western Sea for some time and travel further afield. When the time is right, I will return to the sect.”

Huo Jingyan nodded. Since Cheng had his own path, he would not persuade him further. “Be careful. You can visit other places, but don’t stay too long on West Kunlun. Once the others leave, you’ll stand out too much alone.”

“I understand,” Cheng replied.

——

Two years later.

In the early autumn of the 430th year of the Ming era.

On the land of Qi and Lu, by the Bohai Sea.

A young man stood upon the coastal rocks, his robes fluttering in the sea breeze. He raised a hand to shade his eyes against the sun, squinting out across the vast ocean.

Beside him was a large white dog, now pawing at fish in the water—several sea loaches. The dog knew the family cat favored this kind of fish.

A wave suddenly surged, and the dog quickly ran back to avoid it. The young man remained unmoved, the ocean parting before him as if by command.

He recalled the first time he saw Poyang Lake, marveling at its vastness and thinking it no different from the sea. Now, seeing the true ocean, he realized how laughable that earlier awe had been.

The ancient Taoist sages once said, through the mouth of the North Sea: “The frog in the well cannot speak of the ocean because it is confined to a small space; the summer insect cannot speak of ice because it is bound by time; the narrow-minded man cannot speak of the Way because he is constrained by teachings.”

Was he not like the autumn river deity in the sage’s parable? Emerging from the cliff to view the great sea, realizing his own smallness, and hence able to discuss profound truths.

Today, seeing the ocean, he finally understood that his knowledge of water arts and cultivation was but a fraction of the whole.

The sages said: “Among all waters under heaven, none is greater than the sea.” Yet they also used the seashore to illustrate: “The sea among heaven and earth is like a pebble or twig in a great mountain—its visible portion is small, so how can it claim to be vast?”

This was precisely the truth he had grasped.

Over more than two years, he traveled northward from the Western Sea, witnessing the everlasting ice and snow of the northern frontier. He made a special visit to the Tianshan sword sect, forging bonds from their joint demon-slaying efforts on West Kunlun. There, by Heavenly Lake, he exchanged swordsmanship and magical sword techniques, gaining much.

After visiting friends, he turned east, crossing the boundless grasslands of the northern frontier, seeing cattle and sheep grazing under the wind-blown grass.

Then he followed the Yellow River into Jin Plain, saw the Northern Mountain, journeyed specially to Longnan to see the Western Mountain, and returned to the riverbank.

Following the great river into the land of Heluo, he gazed upon the Central Mountain, then continued along the river to Qi and Lu, where he beheld the Eastern Mountain.

Having seen the Four Sacred Mountains, he followed the Yellow River to the sea, sighing deeply.

“A visible portion is small, so how can it claim to be vast.”

The young man quietly recited the sage’s warning, feeling his thoughts clear and his body invigorated.

At that moment, a surge of magical energy erupted within him, radiating outward. His power struck the ocean’s surface, merging with the waves and stirring up a thousand heaps of white spray.

His Earth and Water Realms opened simultaneously.

Cheng Xinzhan had cultivated for six years and now had formed four realms.

He let out a long, resounding howl that echoed across the wilds.

The vast ocean, in the grand scheme of heaven and earth, was but a grain of sand, and in the face of the eternal river of time, oceans and mountains were but ordinary phenomena.

His cultivation was still low; in time, when he could destroy a sect with a flick of his hand, he would no longer feel constrained.

He had spent over two years releasing this pent-up frustration.

Seeing the vast sky and sea, his cultivation realm was not the only thing elevated—his heart and vision had grown immensely.

“Recently, Miss Shi-yang told me she returned to Haiqing City from Peacock City for a mid-year report. Since I’m now at Bohai, why not visit her? After half a year on West Kunlun, my talisman papers have run out.”

Haiqing City in White Jade Capital lay above Bohai.

Thinking this, he summoned his intent, transforming into a white cloud and soaring skyward.

The white dog followed, riding the wind.

When Sun Miaoshu had told Cheng Xinzhan that one must reach the Second Realm before entering the Third Heaven, he had just refined the “Yangming Cloud Hall Gang.” His body was like pure air, passing effortlessly into the Third Heaven. While passing through the First and Second Heavens, he even had leisure to observe heavenly thunder and fierce winds.

Upon reaching the Third Heaven, he looked around and activated his Dan Eye, spotting a massive floating city to the northeast. Riding the cloud and accompanied by the white dog, he headed there.

Haiqing City was larger than Peacock City, with city walls carved with grand scenes of the Sea Eagle’s hunt, imposing and magnificent.

Inside the city was equally luxurious and splendid, blooming with flowers.

The city’s ruling family bore the surname Xiao, so he proceeded directly to the city lord’s mansion at the center.

At the gate stood guards. He approached and inquired,

“Greetings, sir. May I ask if any members of the Xiao family cultivate here?”

The guard returned a respectful bow and replied, “I don’t know which branch or person you ask about. According to regulations, only those selected by the city lord’s main line may cultivate in the mansion; others establish their own households elsewhere.”

Cheng Xinzhan answered, “I ask about Miss Xiao Shiyi, who manages Bohai’s business at Qichang Hall.”

The guard knew her. “Miss Shiyi is recognized by the main line and was sent to Peacock City to oversee business. She recently returned to report and is currently in the mansion. I don’t know your name, but I can pass your message.”

“Thank you. Please tell her it is an old friend, Cheng Qieqing,” he said.

Now under a new identity and appearance, those unaware would think he had never left the sect after returning from West Kunlun.

The guard nodded and took out a telepathic bug, whispering a few words.

Soon, the guard said, “Daoist, Miss Shiyi has replied. Please enter through the East Third Gate.”

Cheng Xinzhan was surprised by the mansion’s size—the main gate was on the south wall, but the east wall had more than ten gates. A young servant named Xiao Si led him through the East Third Gate.

Just inside, Miss Shiyi’s personal maid Qingyu came to receive him. After thanking Xiao Si, Qingyu continued guiding Cheng Xinzhan, whispering,

“Daoist, you wear a white dragon fish robe and haven’t reported to the sect. Our lady’s realm is still low, and she has only recently taken over some family business. Her position at home isn’t very high. Having you enter through the east gate is somewhat disrespectful; please forgive us.”

Qingyu was nervous. The last time in Peacock City, Cheng Xinzhan nearly swept the top three places and gained the favor of the Zhu Tower’s leader. Cheng Yifu’s name had already spread throughout White Jade Capital. The West Kunlun battles had passed one or two years ago, and his renown only grew. With such an identity, she could not help but be cautious.

Cheng Xinzhan waved her off, unconcerned.

“The lady is preparing for a banquet. Please follow me,” Qingyu said, fabricating a tale. While servants arranged the banquet, the lady was actually busy dressing and adorning herself.

——