Chapter 389: How Bold of You!

Yan Huanglou slept until the sky darkened.

The day’s meal was still made by Wang Sanniang; she had specially set some aside for him.

He reheated the food and forced a few bites.

But ultimately, he couldn’t finish it.

Chen Changsheng remarked: “Can’t stomach food?”

Yan Huanglou nodded: “Aye.”

He let out a sigh. “My time is truly here. Earlier, there was a Liu family nearby; their elder passed at sixty-seven. Like me, couldn’t eat, always spiritless. Took less than a few days, and he was gone.”

Chen Changsheng said, “And you have no son below. When you go, who’ll even bury you?”

Yan Huanglou chuckled: “Will you help me?”

“You’re not done yet. Don’t dwell on it.”

“You didn’t say that before.”

“Before was before. Now is now.”

“Tch.”

Yan Huanglou didn’t argue. Instead, he said, “Whenever death comes, it comes early or late. I’ll dig my own pit beforehand, lie my own self down. Just shovel some dirt over me, my good man. Got no kin, no one to mourn. No need for a stone marker.”

Chen Changsheng smiled faintly. “You hardly seem at death’s door just now.”

“Indeed. Tomorrow, this old backside still tends the stall.”

“Still going?”

“Of course.”

Chen Changsheng eyed him. “What worth does that teahold really hold? Nearly dead, yet you cling to it.”

Yan Huanglou spoke softly: “This stall carried half my lifetime. Couldn’t bear leaving it.”

He sighed heavily.

That humble tea stall held his whole world.

Hearing this, Chen Changsheng pressed no more. He stood. “Rest if tired. This Chen walks a while.”

“Roam so late? Where?”

Offering no explanation, Chen Changsheng stepped from the courtyard, shut the gate behind him.

Yan Huanglou shook his head, muttering. Alone again, he sat in the yard and drifted into quiet stillness. It looked lonely.

He lived this way often; long past noticing solitude.

……

Chen Changsheng departed Qingshan City.

He traveled toward a mountain.

Its name: Zhenlong Mountain.

If memory held, today marked Xuan Di’s death day.

He’d hoped to come by daylight, but keeping watch over Ping and Ruyi delayed him.

Returning to that mountain’s base, Chen Changsheng suddenly halted, stunned.

“This…”

In three short years, Zhenlong Mountain had transformed.

Once thick with woods, its slopes now held towering halls—stately, imposing structures.

A stone-paved path wound straight upward toward lofty temple peaks.

A grand stone arch marked the entrance.

Its inscription carved four deep-etched words: Green Mountain Immortal Abode.

Chen Changsheng started up the path, keen to learn what monastery crowned the heights now.

Though sky black as ink, torchlights still flickered from its highest courts. Climbing higher, faint chantings threaded the air.

Two young Taoists guarded the temple entrance.

Spotting someone approach, surprise touched their faces. No travelers came so late.

One spoke politely: “Recluse, entry closed now. Return tomorrow to light incense.”

Chen Changsheng raised his eyes. Three carved characters greeted him: Qingxian Temple.

“Respects, young masters.”

Chen Changsheng spoke carefully: “I sought business beyond the city walls, Sirs, but delays trapped me. Snake, insect; wild woods hold many dangers. This Chen dared not bed on open ground. Climbed here, hoping your house might grant shelter till dawn. I leave earliest light.”

Glancing at one another, the pair nodded politely: “Not ours to decide, Recluse. Please wait. We must inform higher ranks.”

“Understood.” Chen Changsheng gave a slight bow.

While one Taoist priest slipped inside, Chen Changsheng spoke to the guard left behind.

“Young priest, this Chen recalls no shrine graced this peak years past. How came that change?”

“Long you dwelled behind walls, Recluse. Likely unaware.”

A heavy sigh left the youth. “A layered tale. Abyss River hosted many shrines. Yet after Righteous Army seized city lands, suppression struck Daoist sects everywhere. Every temple cleared. Our Celestial Master begged the city’s great lord. Pleaded permission to restore single orthodoxy. Losing all temples, the mountain masters converged. Built this monument on Zhenlong Mountain. Salvation for true order.”

“Realization dawned,” Chen Changsheng murmured.

He pressed gently: “How names he who holds the temple’s seal today?”

“Celestial Master bears title: Zhixuan Master.”

Chen Changsheng nodded silently. Questions ceased.

Soon returned the young Taoist who’d carried word.

“Enter with me, Recluse.”

“Gratitude.”

Chen Changsheng stepped within sacred grounds.

Led by the youth, Chen entered a humble chamber—space reserved for junior devotees.

“This place shelters you tonight,” the Taoist gestured simply. “Crude it is. Pardon slight.”

“It suffices.”

The small priest bowed slightly. “If needs press, find brothers in next room.”

“As you bid.”

Chen Changsheng added: “Masterly youth, can this wanderer seek audience with shrine’s leader?”

“Our master feeds wisdom to brothers now. Wait perhaps half an hour?”

“Still… trouble carries a message?”

“Perhaps.”

Alone in the sanctuary, Chen Changsheng quietly scanned the hall.

Truly, its scale commanded awe. Room enough for many scores disciples; multiple stately courts stood bold upon the slope. Such grand scope—a rarity.

Half an hour waned before another priest guided Chen Changsheng to silent wing-hall.

There knelt an elder, garbed deep cyan. Robe radiated calm authority.

“This humble disciple greets you, Recluse. I am Zhixuan.”

Chen Changsheng returned the gesture. “Your immortal aura shines bright, Master. Uncommon grace.”

“Worthless praise,” the old master’s eyes sparkled lightly. He slid a teacup toward Chen Changsheng.

“Receive.”

Chen Changsheng lifted the cup; a light sip passed his lips. “Bitterness first… lingering sweetness follows. Good leaf.”

Zhiyuan gave easy answer: “Wild growth upon the mountain slope. Hardly deserving mention.”

Chen Changsheng smiled mildly—yet sudden shift crossed his tone: “The young gatekeeper spoke of origins. From what Immortal Mountain did your shrine first rise?”

“Former site… Luo South Mountain.”

Chen Changsheng weighed the distance: “Quite far journey.”

He paused then. Gaze drifting sharply—

Zhixuan Master traced the look turning round. He spotted the sacred robe Chen Changsheng noticed—hung reverent upon stone wall.

Silence held a breath. Then Chen Changsheng’s voice broke quiet: “Unless vision fools… that hangs a celestial cave robe?”

“Truth,” Zhixuan Master nodded.

Chen Changsheng’s eyes narrowed slowly: “Belongs it to the Master?”

“This Chen heard celestial cave robes are no common wear. Only those of deepest cultivation dare shoulder that cloak.”

The old Taoist smiled serenely. “The recluse shows me too great honor.”

Sudden force flashed in Chen Changsheng’s gaze.

“Zhixuan Master…”

“Hmm?”

“How bold of you!”