Pure Yang!

Chapter 454 An Unexpected Encounter in the Mountains! Dao Ancestor Zhang Daoling
late at night.

Floating clouds and swirling mists, the bright moon's light flowing.

Longhu Mountain, majestically situated on the land, lies hidden in the night.

The undulating mountains are like a crouching tiger and a coiled dragon, with the Luxi River meandering through them like a jade belt.

At the foot of the mountain, Zhang Fan, carrying his backpack, stopped and looked back, his expression calm.

He spent a whole day browsing and spent 180 yuan on a ticket, but ultimately came up empty-handed.

Zhang Wuming said that Longhu Mountain today is not the same as it was back then.

Even the Taoist temples and palaces on the mountain were built later. As for the original site and the original mountain gate, they were lost in the "Great Calamity of Taoism" eighty years ago. Even experts at the Celestial Master level cannot find the original path.

Zhang Fan spent a day wandering around the mountains, visiting all the scenic spots. Just like he did on Zhenwu Mountain back then, he didn't take the usual routes, but instead chose mountain trails and even places where there were no paths. He climbed cliffs and wandered through the forests until late at night before finally descending the mountain.

"It's really nothing special," Zhang Fan couldn't help but say.

The weather here today is not even as good as that of Tongluo Mountain.

In other words, the current Longhu Mountain is no longer the real Longhu Mountain; where is the grandeur of the foremost Taoist mountain?
"What exactly is this Daoist calamity?" Zhang Fan murmured to himself.

The world is a place of both truth and falsehood, and our mortal senses are easily deceived by appearances.

Even if one awakens their primordial spirit and can perceive different worlds, their vision is still limited. The higher the realm, the more different the world one sees.

The Celestial Master has already reached the state of oneness with heaven and man.

Even something as extraordinary as this couldn't unravel the mysteries of Longhu Mountain and find the former site of the mountain gate!
"I wonder if Dad ever found it back then," Zhang Fan said thoughtfully.

Ten years ago, his whole family came back once. It was on that occasion that Zhang Fan and Li Changgeng fought for the first time. They fought in the dead of night and Zhang Fan practiced the Divided Spirit Technique.

That time, only Zhang Lingzong entered Longhu Mountain.

"Go back first."

Zhang Fan stood at the bus stop, but there wasn't a single car in sight, not even a person.

He walked along the road until his phone was almost out of battery.

Finally, about two kilometers ahead, a faint light could be seen beside the road.

Now that Zhang Fan's life cultivation has reached its peak, his eyesight has allowed him to see that it was a village.

Zhang Fan stepped over the guardrail beside the highway and followed the light. In a short while, he arrived at the place.

He glanced down at his phone; it had only 17% battery left, and the time was 23:58 PM.

At this hour, the village was eerily quiet, with every house pitch black except for one house at the village entrance where a light was still on.

Zhang Fan walked over. The doors and windows of that house were open, and dim yellow light shone out.

A large yellow dog was tied up in the yard. When it saw people coming, it barked twice, the barks echoing in the cold and quiet night, sounding particularly jarring.

"Chapter Thirteen: The Guns Ring Out at Lexington, Eight Years of War for the King of North America..."

Just then, a broadcast came from inside the room, accompanied by electronic static with a "sala sala" sound.

"In the thirty-eighth year of the Qianlong Emperor's reign, the thirteen North American colonies, long suffering under the oppressive rule of the British government, were struck by a gunshot outside Lexington. Heroes from all corners of the land rose up, and all thirteen colonies harbored the will to resist the British. A poem praised them: 'Why shouldn't men carry swords and reclaim the thirteen North American colonies…'"

"Excuse me, is anyone home?" Zhang Fan called out from outside the courtyard gate.

There was no response from inside the house; only the noisy broadcast continued.

"In the forty-first year of the Qianlong Emperor's reign, George Washington, the master of cherry blossoms and axe, Thomas Jefferson, the brilliant writer, Stephen Chow, the sharp-tongued litigator, and Adams, the blue-eyed sharpshooter, gathered in Philadelphia to jointly undertake the great cause of resisting the British..."

Zhang Fan looked around, walked into the yard, and walked around the big yellow dog tied in the corner.

Upon entering, he discovered that the room was actually a small tavern with only two tables, one of which was broken.

The old counter smelled musty and looked older than Zhang Fan's father.

Next to the counter is a large wine vat. In the old days, people would buy wine by the vat, and this large vat of wine was enough for all the drunkards in the village to drink for a whole year.

At that moment, an old man sat in front of the drunkard, fiddling with a radio that looked like an antique.

His hair was gray, and he was panting in the sweltering summer heat, wearing an old long robe. He kept his head down, as if he hadn't seen Zhang Fan come in.

"Grandpa...Grandpa..."

Zhang Fan walked forward, called out twice, and then knocked on the counter.

At this moment, the old man with a full head of white hair seemed to hear it, turned off the radio, and raised his head.

"Hmm? Young man, when did you come in?"

"Excuse me, sir, I knocked on the door just now, but you didn't hear me." Zhang Fan chuckled, "I'm lost and don't have a ride back right now, so I wanted to rest here for a bit."

"Please sit wherever you like." The white-haired old man glanced at him, seemingly unfazed by Zhang Fan's lost state.

Zhang Fan glanced back and saw that there seemed to be only one table in the old, dilapidated house that could be used as a seat.

“You young people… you’re always looking for so many gods to help you.”

The elderly man with gray hair shook his head and continued tinkering with his antique radio.

"Looking for a deity?" Zhang Fan asked casually.

"This is Longhu Mountain, the home of Zhang Tianshi, a Taoist master who has produced immortals in the past... Young people like you often wander around the mountain in the middle of the night."

"Gods... how can there be so many gods in this world?" the white-haired old man said calmly.

"I've lived here since I was a child. If there are gods, how come I've never seen them?"

"Grandpa, how old are you?" Zhang Fan asked, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

"I'm eighty-one."

"Eighty-one!? You've lived here since you were a child?"

"I've never left since I was born," the elderly man with gray hair said calmly.

"Since you've lived here for so long, have you seen any unusual phenomena or legends in Longhu Mountain?" Zhang Fan pressed.

"Strange phenomenon? What kind of strange phenomenon could there be? Young man, the most important thing you should do right now is uninstall the tomato app from your phone," said the gray-haired old man.

"..."

Zhang Fan was speechless. Tomato was a novel reading app, and he never expected that an eighty-year-old man would even know that.

"However, I heard my father say that the year I was born, Longhu Mountain suffered a disaster. The lightning was terrifying; my underwear fell down like sandals, and then the mountain collapsed." The white-haired old man stopped what he was doing, and a look of reminiscence welled up in his cloudy eyes.

"Later, the village elders said that the mountain was different from before. They said that a hole had appeared, leading directly to the Yellow Springs. Many people went in and never came out again. As time went by, no one went up the mountain anymore, and the Taoist priests were never seen coming down..."

"It wasn't until after the founding of the nation that the area was redeveloped and became the tourist attraction it is today."

Zhang Fan listened in silence.

That must have been the great calamity of Taoism eighty years ago.

From then on, the gates of Longhu Mountain were closed, and the Zhang family left this first Taoist mountain, splitting up to the north and south.

"anyone there?"

Just then, a clear and gentle voice came from outside.

Zhang Fan looked up, but the old man was still looking down, as if he hadn't heard.

"Excuse me, is there anyone?"

The sound rang out again from outside.

"Sir, someone's calling outside," Zhang Fan had to warn.

"Then let her in."

"..."

Zhang Fan pursed his lips, walked to the door, and greeted, "Come in."

In the darkness of night, under the moonlight, a graceful figure approached the courtyard and stepped into the dim, yellow light.

It was a woman, probably in her early twenties. Her sporty clothes accentuated her hot figure, and her beautiful face made even the big yellow dog stop barking.

She carried her bag and walked into the house.

"Is there anything to eat?" The woman walked to the table, put down her backpack, sat down, looked at Zhang Fan, and asked.

“Uh… I’m not a waiter,” Zhang Fan shrugged.

"Uh... I'm sorry." The woman paused for a moment, then said somewhat awkwardly.

"Grandpa, they're asking if you have any food."

"I heard you, I'm not deaf."

The old man got up, took out a plate of peanuts and a plate of braised pig's head from under the counter, and brought them over.

"Young lady, it's the middle of the night, why are you out alone? And you're a young girl, you could easily run into bad people."

As he spoke, the old man glanced at Zhang Fan, seemingly unintentionally.

"..."

"It's alright, I'm brave." The woman's lips curled up slightly, revealing a friendly smile.

"These are all that's left." The old man put down the dish.

"How much?" the woman asked.

"Two hundred and eighty." "So expensive?" Zhang Fan couldn't help but exclaim.

A dish of peanuts and a plate of braised pig's head cost 280 yuan?
"I don't get many fat customers here all year round... I was hoping to charge 28,000."

The old man wanted to earn his pension money in just one meal.

"Can I scan the code?" the woman asked.

"Cash only," the old man said, holding out his hand.

The woman rummaged through her bag, and after a long time, she only managed to pull out two red bills.

"That's all I have," the woman said helplessly.

"Not enough," the old man shook his head.

Zhang Fan rolled his eyes, took out a red bill from his pocket, and stuffed it into the old man's hand.

"I can't make change."

"Don't bother looking anymore, consider this my gift to you," Zhang Fan said calmly.

"Young man, you're really sensible." The old man grinned and turned to walk towards the counter.

"Thank you, let's eat together."

Just then, the woman's gaze fell on Zhang Fan.

Zhang Fan didn't stand on ceremony and sat down.

"Are you also hiking?" the woman asked.

"Hmm," Zhang Fan hummed softly.

"What's your name?"

"Zhao Jiexuan, what about you?" Zhang Fan asked casually.

"Zhao Jiexuan!?" The woman's gaze sharpened slightly, and she murmured, "A good name!"

"What's your name?" Zhang Fan asked.

"You can just call me JOJO," the woman chuckled. "You can also call me Zhouzhou."

"That's what my family calls me."

"Zhouzhou!?" Zhang Fan lowered his head, his expression unreadable, but his slow voice rang out in the old, dilapidated house.

"You came to hike alone?"

“Yes, I’ve heard since I was a child that Longhu Mountain is the number one mountain of Taoism and the abode of immortals. When I came to Xijiang, this was my first stop,” Zhouzhou said softly.

"Unfortunately, the reality is not as good as the reputation. The mountain has become somewhat commercialized. You can no longer see immortals in the mountain, and it is difficult to find sages in the temple."

"Those temples and halls have lost their ancient charm."

As she spoke, Zhouzhou shook her head, feeling a pang of regret.

“Young man, most of the Taoist temples and Buddhist monasteries nowadays have been renovated. If you want to see old, dilapidated, and small ones, there are some in our village.”

Just then, the old man's voice rang out again. He was still looking down, fiddling with the antique-looking radio.

"where?"

"Go five miles to the west, there is a mountain valley, where there is a Tianshi Temple. It is said that it was built by Taoist priests from Longhu Mountain in the past."

"The deity enshrined here is Zhang Daoling, the founder of Taoism. It's quite old; a couple of years ago, experts came to see it and said it could be over a thousand years old."

“Celestial Master Temple!?” Zhang Fan seemed to be deep in thought. He looked at the sky outside and slowly got up.

"Are you going?" Zhouzhou suddenly asked.

"Well, I've got nothing else to do, so I'll go check it out."

"Then let's go together."

Zhouzhou picked up her backpack and stood up.

"You don't mind, do you?"

She looked at Zhang Fan, her gaze unwavering, her bright eyes shining with a clear light.

"I don't mind," Zhang Fan said softly, shaking his head as he looked at her.

The two hit it off immediately and left the tavern.

Hua Bai raised his head slightly, looked at the two people's backs, and couldn't help but sigh, "Young people these days are really chaotic."

"It's done now."

As he spoke, he continued to look down and fiddle with the old, worn-out radio.

……

The big moon is white.

On a mountain path, Zhang Fan walked together with a woman named "Zhouzhou".

"Where are you from?" Zhang Fan asked casually.

“A northerner!” Zhouzhou murmured.

“I went to school in Beijing when I was a child, and I stayed there after graduation.”

"Oh, it's Master Jing." Zhang Fan chuckled.

Upon hearing this, Zhouzhou smiled and asked, "Where are you from?"

"Yujing".

As soon as she finished speaking, Zhouzhou's smile widened.

"why are you laughing?"

"I suddenly remembered a regional meme I saw online," Zhouzhou said with a laugh.

"what?"

"Those from Yujing always have a problem with those from Shangjing."

"Why? What does that mean?" Zhang Fan asked.

"If Shuntian Prefecture can sit here, why can't Yingtian Prefecture?"

"Haha, after all, this is one of only two cities in the country with 'Beijing' in its name," Zhang Fan laughed.

As he spoke, he turned to look at Zhouzhou. In the night, this woman appeared even more radiant. She stood close to Zhang Fan, yet maintained a subtle distance.

I don't know how much time passed, but the road became rugged and undulating.

In the depths of the mountains, a dilapidated temple came into view, bathed in the soft moonlight.

"Temple of the Celestial Masters!?"

Zhang Fan and Zhouzhou walked to the dilapidated temple. From the outside, the mottled walls were covered with moss, and the surrounding weeds were as tall as a person.

The temple gate was full of holes, and it was unknown how long it had been abandoned.

In this day and age, even when people burn incense and worship gods, they go to Longhu Mountain. Who would come to this desolate little temple?

"It certainly looks quite old."

Zhouzhou whispered as she walked up to Zhang Fan and pushed open the dilapidated temple door first.

Thick dust fell and flew.

With a wave of his hand, Zhouzhou stirred up a gust of wind that dispersed the dust.

As you walk in, a pungent musty smell hits you. On the collapsed altar stands a clay sculpture, only half of its body remains, one hand holding a seal, the other holding a talisman, and a long sword on its back.

A seal.

A talisman.

A sword.

Those are the three treasures of Longhu Mountain.

The figure enshrined on the altar is none other than Zhang Daoling, the founder of Longhu Mountain and the Taoist patriarch.

"Time is the most merciless thing; so many years have passed, and the incense has stopped burning."

Zhouzhou stared blankly at the broken clay sculpture, but her gaze was filled with utmost piety.

"The immortals do not reveal their true forms, but are made by mortals from clay."

Looking at the broken clay sculpture, Zhang Fan suddenly said, "Do you think the Dao Ancestor ever imagined that his temple would be so dilapidated and that his incense would be cut off like this?"

Upon hearing this, Zhouzhou frowned slightly and looked at Zhang Fan.

“We’re still in the temple. What you’re saying is quite disrespectful.”

"Disrespectful?" Zhang Fan laughed. "That's true..."

"The people of Beizhang are extremely respectful to their patriarch!"

Zhang Fan sighed softly, and Zhouzhou's expression suddenly froze, her gaze towards him revealing a hint of surprise.

(End of this chapter)