Starting Cultivation During a Trip

Chapter 344 - 186: Chu Chaoran’s Thoughts! Traversing the Three Corpses’ Memories_2

"Li Changgeng of the White Crane Temple has left Shangjing and now can’t be found," Bai Buran continued.

"That young man has cultivated [Heaven and Earth Stealing Fortune], an utterly hegemonic technique in the world. He inherited the Dharma lineage of the White Crane Temple..."

"Back then, during [Breaking Mountains and Attacking Temples], the Zhang Family of Dragon Tiger Mountain and the Ancestral Masters of White Crane Temple nearly decimated the Wuwei Sect’s disciples. If not for the Ancestral Court’s survival, would there even be today’s state of affairs?"

"White Crane Temple is indeed unfathomable."

The calm voice abruptly ceased, and the main hall returned to its former tranquility.

Dragon Tiger Mountain, illustrious in its day, has already faded, while the White Crane Temple stands tall like the midday sun, proof enough of this lineage’s extraordinary nature.

"Go on..."

After a brief silence, that calm voice sounded once more.

Bai Buran continued speaking about the affairs of the outside Daoist sects, most of it trifling and little more than idle talk for tea-time leisure.

"You really yearn for the world beyond."

At this moment, Bai Buran suddenly spoke.

"I have no choice. I am trapped here by Chu Chaoran," the calm voice replied leisurely, with no attempt to hide his present predicament.

For him, the Deserted Mountain was less a Daoist ground than a prison cage.

Fortunately, Bai Buran could come and go freely, becoming his channel of understanding the outside world.

"You actually fought with Transcendent Zhenren!?" Bai Buran inquired.

"You know."

"But I don’t know how you exchanged blows with him, nor how you ended up trapped here," Bai Buran voiced his curiosity.

Losing to Chu Chaoran is nothing; the key is that those qualified to challenge him in this world number only a few. To retreat unscathed is even more shocking.

Without doubt, the Observatory Master of the Perfect View is among those rare few.

"I made a wager with him."

At this moment, the calm voice sounded again, revealing the dust-laden past.

"What wager?" Bai Buran pressed.

"A wager on his thought."

"Transcendent Zhenren’s thought!?" Bai Buran exclaimed in astonishment.

"At the Pure Yang Realm, the Zhenren’s supreme station... such beings have reached a state where not even a single thought arises, embracing the One and returning to the True... their thoughts are terrifying."

All dharmas are impermanent, only Mr. Nian remains constant.

Even this seemingly illusory world is born of thought.

The Buddhist Sect speaks of ’the true mark is no mark,’ while the Confucian Sect claims, ’there is nothing outside the mind.’

When nothing exists any longer, within heaven and earth, within nature, there remains but a single thought, which may be called the Primordial, may be called Dao, may be called Buddha...

The name is unimportant; in the real world, everything has its origin in that thought.

Some say Pangu splitting heaven and earth is actually just an externalization—the explosion of that so-called [Primordial] thought.

That thought gave birth to everything.

Wishing for life, there came myriad beings; the multitudes give rise to thought, yearning for warmth, so comes fire; wishing to record, so there is writing...

Countless thoughts are interwoven, forming a framework that structures the real world.

Cultivation is thereby the ending of all postnatal thoughts, and, within the Innate Primordial Spirit, one comprehends that Primordial Thought.

Therefore, in this world, if one can control thought, one may do as they wish.

Say you seek wealth: as long as you hold unwaveringly to this thought, without doubt or confusion, it can be realized—though the thought itself is also subject to the influence of others’ thoughts, thus affecting the outcome.

So it is for ordinary people; for cultivators, whose Dao practice is deep, whose Divine Techniques are vast—especially upon reaching the Realm of the Infinite, where not a single thought is born—should a thought arise, it will have terrifying consequences, giving rise to inestimable karma.

Hence, for one like Chu Chaoran, no one in this world knows how fearsome his thought can be.

If there is anyone who knows, it must be this existence in the Perfect View Temple.

"I lost... so I’ve been trapped within this observatory..." the calm voice slowly sounded, admitting his defeat.

"Trapped here by Chu Chaoran’s thought, trapped in Yujing..."

"The Pure Yang Zhenren’s thought?" Bai Buran was shocked.

"Yes, you can’t see it, but it is here, omnipresent... You are all within this thought..." the calm voice gradually began to fluctuate.

Hoo...

In the cold, clear main hall, a sudden wind arose, as if reflecting the emotion in that calm voice, stirring the candles.

The flickering candlelight stretched Bai Buran’s shadow long. After a moment, it finally stilled.

"How’s that new young man at your company lately?"

At this moment, the calm voice shifted abruptly and asked.

"Zhang Fan!?" Bai Buran was momentarily stunned, then fell silent.

"Chu Chaoran placed him with you for a reason. He is no ordinary young man, is he?"

As soon as these words fell and before Bai Buran could respond, the voice sounded again.

"If you don’t say, I won’t ask."

"You may go now."

"I’ll come visit you again."

Bai Buran nodded and softly spoke in the direction of the candlestick.

In the dim firelight, only a single shadow appeared on the wall; in the vast palace and temple, it seemed as though Bai Buran was alone, speaking; the cold and clear hall echoed with different voices.

After he turned to leave, a gust of wind blew, the candle was snuffed out, and the long-accumulated dust was stirred up.

...

Zhang Fan and his party did not return to Yujing City until after eleven at night.

Qi Ji and the others were disciples of Maoshan, so upon arriving in Yujing City, they were naturally hosted by the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance, which booked them a hotel.

One must know, Maoshan’s standing in Jiangnan Province is extraordinary, being the foremost Daoist sect in the region, just as Lao Mountain is to East Mountain Province, Zhenwu Mountain to Jiangbei Province.

Therefore, the annual funds sponsored to the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance are quite considerable; not only do they contribute money, but also personnel, as disciples are often sent to train under the Jiangnan Province Daoist Alliance.

"We really owe it all to you this time."

On the way back, Qi Ji thanked Zhang Fan profusely, shooting glances of half-blame at Jifeng Pavilion and Mo Yun more than once.

These two fools, completely oblivious to their own limits, actually dared to get so close to the Deserted Mountain and ended up provoking the supernatural, entering the mountain.

If something had truly gone wrong, he, as their elder brother, could hardly have escaped blame.

"Aren’t you two forgetting your thanks to Brother Fan?" Qi Ji reproached.

"Thank you, Brother Fan."

Jifeng Pavilion and Mo Yun nodded repeatedly, like children in trouble. On the way back, they already understood the perils they’d encountered in the mountain.

"Alright, you’ve thanked me more than enough. Great kindness needs no words," Zhang Fan waved dismissively.

"Your Brother Fan is right—great kindness, no need for thanks. But next time, put it into action," Qi Ji admonished.

"Is that really what I meant?" Zhang Fan grinned.

A moment later, Qi Ji drove the car and dropped Zhang Fan off first at Hongfu Garden.

"I’ll head back first."

"Let’s get together again another day!"

"Drive safe on the way."

Zhang Fan called out his farewells and got out of the car, heading straight into the residential compound.

At this hour, there wasn’t a soul to be found in the complex, not even a ghostly wisp.

Lights shone in the security booth; Zhang Fan glanced over. It wasn’t Uncle Liu’s shift tonight.

"If I can get up early tomorrow, maybe I’ll go try Uncle Feng’s pancakes."

Zhang Fan was already thinking about breakfast the next day—he never slept long anyway, often rising early to crisscross the city and enjoy all kinds of breakfast delicacies.

At this hour, he suddenly thought of Feng Ping’an, the pancake vendor by the Zhang Family’s Old Mansion—his Uncle Feng.

Lost in these thoughts, Zhang Fan found himself already back at his place, pushed open the door, and went straight into his room.

He stooped down beside the bed, dived under, and after fumbling around, pulled out an ancient, plain iron box—the very [Golden Radiance Treasure Box] he’d brought back from East Mountain Province.

In years past, it was with this box’s golden glow that the Three Corpses Daoist cultivated the Three Corpses Illuminating Fate technique.

Zhao Jie Xuan had said—their hope of achieving Divine Fusion was more than half pinned on this very box, thus he’d had Zhang Fan bring it back to study.

But on that day at the [Imprisoned Immortal Temple], Zhang Fan had already witnessed the power of the box’s golden glow and now dared not open it rashly.

"Three Corpses Daoist... Three Corpses Daoist... If only I could dig him up and have him explain things to me..." Zhang Fan muttered softly.

Suddenly, he slapped his forehead as inspiration struck.

He couldn’t dig up the Three Corpses Daoist, but he had swallowed a [Three Corpses Primordial Pill] containing all the Three Corpses Daoist’s life memories.

"Why not just look at them directly!?"

Zhang Fan’s eyes lit up instantly, as if seeing hope. But he also knew that a person’s memories are vast as an ocean, containing countless thoughts—let alone a figure like the Three Corpses Daoist, once the strongest in the world. Seeking gain within those memories would entail risks easily imagined.

Thus, Zhang Fan took out the hide he’d brought from the [Imprisoned Immortal Temple], blew into it, True Yang infused; the hide instantly ballooned, taking on human shape—it was [Zhang Beijiang].

"Guard me."

Zhang Beijiang’s strength was terrifying, even compared to most [High Skill] practitioners, especially thanks to his freakish defense. With him as guardian, Zhang Fan could rest easy.

Zhang Beijiang stood at the doorway, motionless; yet his spiritual-light-filled eyes were fixed unwaveringly on Zhang Fan.

Zhang Fan sat cross-legged, eyes half-open, half-closed, his breath falling into silence, and at last in the Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery, the sound of heavy chains clashing arose.

Clang... Clang... Clang...