Chapter 100 — The Daoist Sects of the World, Part Two

The old monk's voice was not loud, yet everyone present heard him clearly, and one by one their faces turned sour. Mount Shu was a great sect, to be sure, but what they cultivated was the way of the sword, and they had never produced many treasures. Though they had flourished a thousand years ago, they had declined by degrees thereafter, and had all along been held down beneath Kunlun. This time they had made such a tremendous show, and even brought out rare treasures of this order to swell the spectacle; everyone understood in their hearts that it was meant as a display of force.

Yet apart from Daoist Tianyi of Dragon-Tiger Mountain, these cultivators were all itinerant practitioners with no sect to their name, and those who did belong to sects belonged only to small ones. Now Mount Shu had sent out invitations far and wide and summoned them all here, and they had to give Mount Shu at least the courtesy of their presence. In any case, being itinerants, the quarrels of sects would never be laid at their door; they knew perfectly well that, plainly put, this grand ceremony of the Shuyue Sect was staged for Kunlun to see. Maoshan and Dragon-Tiger were great sects too, illustrious and renowned, but in recent years they had not kept pace with Mount Shu's rapid rise.

Some cultivators, having reasoned their way through this, smoothed their expressions; however grand a show Mount Shu put on, it was no affair of theirs—and some even settled into the mood of spectators at a play. A few began to chat idly: "I wonder whether anyone from Kunlun will come today."

"Of course they will. Mount Shu had no reason not to invite Kunlun—the two sects must at least keep up appearances, no? If Kunlun doesn't come, isn't that a plain admission of weakness?"

"Not necessarily. Didn't Maoshan fail to send anyone?"

"Maoshan? Several of Maoshan's disciples have gone missing—word is they were killed by the demonic cultivator Gaoli. Right now everyone in Maoshan is running around with their hair on fire."

"Demonic cultivator! Where is there any demonic cultivator Gaoli these days? You must have misheard."

These cultivators gossiped in twos and threes, with not a trace of the bearing proper to men of the Way—they might rather have been townsfolk trading the latest news. Clearly these itinerants had kept up with the times and blended into modern society. Daoist Tianyi stood to one side with his four disciples, exchanging no pleasantries with the others, rather like a crane standing amid a flock of chickens. The cultivators, for their part, knew their place and did not presume to approach; indeed, cultivators set the greatest store by strength, and without strength a man's words carry no weight. The highest among them had only just entered the Spirit Transformation stage—how could they presume to speak with Daoist Tianyi, one of the four great masters of the world?

As they spoke, from the far end of the great golden arch bridge—the Golden Dragon Ladder in its transformed shape—came a dozen or so old Daoists all in robes of blue cloth. At their head was the very master of Mount Shu, the old Daoist Qingxu; and standing shoulder to shoulder with him, a middle-aged cultivator with three strands of dark, flowing beard drifting before his chest—who else could it be but Lingxu, likewise one of the four great masters? At the sight of Lingxu emerging, Daoist Tianyi's face changed abruptly; with his cultivation he could of course perceive what was uncommon about this old Daoist Lingxu. Yet the surprise on his face flashed and was gone; their gazes met, and the air between them seemed to strike sparks. The old Daoist Qingxu, seeing the two exchange a look of mutual understanding, smiled and then beckoned the assembled cultivators to follow the golden bridge into that blessed cave-heaven of Mount Shu. Those dozen-odd old Daoists plainly all possessed the cultivation of the middle Spirit Transformation stage, and several had even entered the late stage. The cultivators could not discern the true depth of these old Daoists' cultivation, yet they felt the mighty presence and the pulse of true essence about them: these were all elders of Mount Shu, juniors or seniors of old Qingxu—and among them, unexpectedly, was mixed Qingxu's own disciple Xu Jiankong, whose presence was in no way inferior to that of these elders. Only then did the cultivators truly marvel, and all fell silent.

In a moment the whole sea of clouds was left empty and bare, with only old Daoist Lingxu and Daoist Tianyi, together with Dai Jinrong—four persons in all. Seeing Lingxu approach, Daoist Tianyi suddenly made his move: a purple-light talisman flashed above his head and wrapped itself about the four behind him; then the talisman blazed with radiance, and with a great clatter it bore the four of them out of the sea of clouds, whither none could say. Old Daoist Lingxu watched Daoist Tianyi's maneuver with a smile and did not stop him, saying, "The Tianyi Master is as cautious as ever. We are both of the Daoist fold—surely the Master does not think I would bully a few juniors?"

Daoist Tianyi sneered, "I heard that last time my unworthy disciples came to blows with Mount Shu's people, and I thought I might take this chance to get to the bottom of it. I never imagined Mount Shu's strength had swelled so—no doubt you have found the hidden vaults and treasures your Mount Shu forebears left behind. I could not rest easy leaving my disciples to clash with Mount Shu's again." Fair as his words were, in truth he feared only that his few disciples would come off the worse. Last time the four had clashed with the Mount Shu disciple Xiang Hui, and had it not been for old Daoist Kuangjun stepping in at the right moment, his four beloved disciples would likely have been finished. This time Daoist Tianyi had come to Mount Shu to demand justice—how was he to know that Mount Shu's strength had soared? To overawe the Daoist sects of the world, they would surely shield their own; and though these old fellows would not stoop to strike, if the disciples of both sides clashed, with Mount Shu's strength so swelled, their disciples had surely reaped no small benefit. So that his own disciples might not suffer, Daoist Tianyi had no choice but to send the four away with an escape talisman.

The two eyed each other like fighting cocks, each watching the other—not a shred of the bearing of masters about them. After a long while old Daoist Lingxu shook his head and sighed, "I never thought the Tianyi Master too had broken through to this realm. It seems our thirty years were not wasted—no doubt Sect Master Qianji and Perfected One Kaiyang are the same as we!" At the war of Dao and demon thirty years past, the four great masters had all been figures of the late Spirit Transformation stage; who would have thought that thirty years on, all would have advanced greatly in power and entered the Return-to-Void realm together—one could only marvel that the balance of heaven's way is exact and never errs. Daoist Tianyi had in fact had his own extraordinary encounters and advanced greatly in power, which was what emboldened him to hurry here at the time of the Xiulan Sect's grand ceremony to demand justice for his disciples. Now, seeing that old Daoist Lingxu had like himself entered the Return-to-Void realm, he decided on the spot to send his disciples away, lest he bring humiliation on himself.