Volume One: Youths Meet in Troubled Times Chapter Sixty-Four: Visitors from the Great Cheng Dynasty (Part 3)

Thinking of this, Lu Ming said with some difficulty, “Elder, if he really has lived with that Daoist for seven years, and if their bond is deep, I fear he would not be willing to leave.”

After hearing Lu Ming’s account, the Sword-Wielding Elder also felt that for someone as loyal and committed as Li Yu, it would indeed be unlikely for him to switch allegiances. Yet, thinking of such an exceptional sword prodigy slipping through his fingers and being unable to bring him back to Great Sword Green Mountain, he felt as though a blunt knife was slowly slicing at his heart—painful, but never enough to end it all at once.

Suddenly, as if recalling something, he turned to Lu Ming with a grave expression. “Having you bring him back is not just for the sake of Green Mountain.”

Lu Ming was puzzled. “Elder, what do you mean?”

The elder replied with disdain, “With Heaven’s Gate opening this time, most sects see it as a grand opportunity for ascension—some are even resentful for not getting a chance to come to Heaven’s Gate Town. But do they ever consider—can Heaven’s Gate really be opened so easily?”

After contemplating for a moment, Lu Ming asked, “Elder, do you mean this opening of Heaven’s Gate might be a trap?”

“Whether it’s a trap is hard to say. Anyone capable of using Heaven’s Gate as a snare would possess a cultivation and perspective far beyond this world. Our Green Mountain has always adopted a stance of neither approaching nor rejecting Heaven’s Gate, observing as mere bystanders. That’s why we’ve never sent anyone to establish influence in Heaven’s Gate Town. In fact—” At this point, the elder set a barrier around them before continuing, “We have never wanted to muddy ourselves in these troubled waters.”

“Why do you and the other elders, as well as the sect master, maintain this attitude toward Heaven’s Gate in Heaven’s Gate Town? Is there some hidden mystery?” Lu Ming pressed.

The Sword-Wielding Elder thought of the ancient sword dictum left within the Sword Cliff of Green Mountain: “When Heaven’s Gate appears, the Sword must be wielded.” Successive generations of Green Mountain’s ancestors had sought to interpret these words, scouring ancient texts for the origins of that great war between immortals and demons hundreds of thousands of years ago. But time had eroded all but fragments: “Heaven’s Gate appears, chaos descends upon the world; the Sword is wielded, and battle ensues.”

Yet they could not tell whether the chaos was provoked by Heaven’s Gate itself, or whether its very appearance unsettled hearts and bred conflict. Regardless, their impression of Heaven’s Gate remained uneasy; anything that could plunge the world into turmoil, they believed, should not exist.

“As for hidden mysteries, I cannot say. I only know that those ignorant and benighted only see the possible shortcut to transcendence, never questioning why, if Heaven’s Gate were so simple, the ancients chose to exile it here.” As he spoke, the elder could not resist mocking those who flocked blindly to Heaven’s Gate. In the eyes of Green Mountain, even if Heaven’s Gate truly concealed a path to ascension, as sword cultivators, how could they forsake their sword’s integrity and pride for the sake of a shortcut?

For them, there was nothing that could not be cut down by a single sword; if there was, they would simply strike again. Whether it was the path to ascension or the very laws of Heaven looming above them, whether they could sever them was one matter—what mattered first was the courage and resolve to charge forward. This, after all, was the foundation upon which Great Sword Green Mountain had stood for generations.

Lu Ming fell silent for a while, then asked, “Elder, what do you think is that senior’s intention in bringing Li Yu to Heaven’s Gate Town?”

The Sword-Wielding Elder pondered briefly. He could deduce a few possibilities, yet none boded well for the situation in Heaven’s Gate Town. “Whatever his intention, given his cultivation, he may find it difficult to remain unscathed when Heaven’s Gate opens. That boy, too, could be caught in the crossfire.”

Lu Ming began to suspect ulterior motives when that senior brought Li Yu here. At the time, he might not have detected any secrets in Li Yu, but the boy's ability to perceive yin and sever yang was far from ordinary.

If that senior had seen this potential and intended to use Li Yu as a tool, it was entirely possible.

It was not that he harbored malice or suspicion toward that senior, but with those who had cultivated to such extremes, who could say how much humanity they retained? If Li Yu was nothing more than a pawn, his life and death dismissed as inconsequential, it would come as no surprise.

With these thoughts, Lu Ming longed to fly to Heaven’s Gate Town at once, to see with his own eyes how Li Yu was faring.

He had originally thought that if Li Yu was suffering, he would take him away no matter what. But after hearing the elder’s words, his resolve only strengthened—he must take Li Yu away this time, whatever the cost, even if Li Yu refused, even if that senior wielded overwhelming power against him.

The elder had more to say, but considering the Daoist’s strength, he admitted he could do little for now, and sighed, “Let it be. We’ll let fate decide. If he can come with us, all the better. If not, we will act as circumstances dictate. Still, if you meet him, you should rekindle your friendship. The Daoist’s power is formidable; after these seven years, I suspect the boy has begun his own cultivation. With his talent, he will soon shine in the world of cultivation.”

These words showed that the elder no longer clung to the hope of taking Li Yu as a disciple, but he still wished for Great Sword Green Mountain to gain a powerful ally in the future.

Lu Ming understood his elder’s meaning, but in his heart, even if Li Yu could never cultivate, it mattered little to him. At first, his intent in coming to Heaven’s Gate Town was merely to see Li Yu again, and that was enough. Now, however, he had found a greater reason to take him away.

Heaven’s Gate Town was under the jurisdiction of Dacheng. The Supreme Hall, despite its unique status within Dacheng, curiously showed little interest in Heaven’s Gate Town. Whether it was overseeing the town or managing its currency, their attitude remained indifferent.

This was evident from the absolute dominance of the town’s lord. The influence of the Supreme Hall extended only across the outer continent; from the administration of other sects to the cultivation of talent, the allocation of resources, and the organization of methods, their approach was consistently forceful.

But upon reaching Heaven’s Gate Town, that attitude became a mystery worthy of scrutiny.

At this moment, on another ship, the dean of the Supreme Hall’s Academy was perusing an ancient tome, a cup of steaming tea in hand. The fragrance of the tea filled the air—a scent reminiscent of orchids in a secluded valley, yet with the refreshing vitality of rain nourishing the earth in spring. When he read something striking, he would pick up his pen and copy the passage into a small notebook he had made himself. When finished, he closed the booklet, its cover bearing two dark-gold characters: Word, Deed.

Once he had recorded all he wished, he glanced out the window and sensed the surging fluctuations of the Dao emanating from Heaven’s Gate Town. With a wry smile, he mused, “A land once devoid of the Dao now radiates five great Daoist fluctuations. It seems Zhang Helun has been forced to reveal all five Sovereign Decrees.”

With that, he picked up his pen again and wrote a line: “When the five Sovereign Decrees appear, Heaven’s Gate will open soon.” He then took out an incense burner and placed the slip of paper inside. The page ignited without flame, burning swiftly to ash. The curling smoke drifted upward and vanished in an instant.

Heaven’s Gate Town occupied a most peculiar location. Without special means of communication, no one could send messages out from within its borders. Even those special methods required the aid of unique magical implements. Apart from these, all information concerning Heaven’s Gate Town could only be conveyed to the outside world by human messengers.

Meanwhile, in the imperial capital of the Dacheng Dynasty, not far from the palace, stood a vast complex of palaces, the two facing off as if neither would yield an inch. Most of these palaces were of an ancient cinnabar red, their style distinct from the palace’s dazzling brilliance. Instead of gems, gold, obsidian, mica, and ethereal stones, these halls were built primarily of wood, adorned with bronzeware, colored in deep ink or cinnabar.

This arrangement set off the innermost and tallest palace, making it the focus of the entire complex.

At the heart of this compound stood a tower-like palace, its form round rather than angular, differing from the usual six- or eight-sided towers. Built entirely from a white stone that gleamed like jade, its presence was extraordinary even from afar.

Inside, twenty-eight grand columns of golden nanmu wood supported the structure in concentric circles. The central four were dragon well columns, holding up the upper eaves; twelve more golden columns supported the mid-level roof, painted with exquisite patterns in gold leaf over crimson lacquer; the twelve outermost columns held the third tier of eaves. Three ceilings were set one above the next, the central one adorned with coiling dragons and phoenixes. The beams and brackets were painted in resplendent dragon-and-phoenix motifs.

Above the main entrance hung a plaque with three grand characters: The Hall of Origin.

At this moment, deep within the hall, sat an old man in a coarse grey robe. As he gazed at the smoke rising before him, it shaped itself into ten characters. His eyes flickered with thought, as if pondering endlessly. If one looked closely, it seemed as though his gaze passed through countless iterations of Heaven’s Gate Town—each with its own unfolding and its own end.

After a long while, the visions faded from his eyes. His gaze became as deep as the sea—calm on the surface, but turbulent below.

He sighed softly. “Very well. If you will not let me see the future of Heaven’s Gate Town, I will not force it.” Moving to the window, he looked toward the town and murmured, “But what is it you truly desire, my brother?”