Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

"I've found the puppet's weakness. Let's storm the palace again; this time, we'll have an 80% chance of success."

Upon hearing this, Qingluan nodded without hesitation, and the two immediately set off to return to the palace from yesterday.

Outside the palace, everything had returned to normal; the stone steps were silent, and there was no wind from the eaves. Without waiting for a greeting, Lin Daochen raised his hand and, as usual, set up an array to summon spirits. The outline of the palace then appeared, slowly taking shape like ink seeping into water.

Having already entered and exited once, they were familiar with the route and their cooperation became increasingly seamless.

As soon as the puppet was activated, the two men pressed their backs together, their breathing synchronized, instantly forming a unified offensive and defensive stance.

Lin Daochen flicked a bronze array plate with his backhand, which spun as soon as it landed. The plate's surface shimmered with a faint light, and ripples spread out silently in circles. It seemed as soft as nothing, yet it seeped into every inch of air, every brick, and every joint of the puppet like fine rain seeping into the soil.

The air hummed slightly, even the dust trembled gently, and the surrounding objects seemed to echo it, as if a long-dormant resonance had been awakened.

Qingluan's pupils shrank suddenly as she stared blankly at the old man beside her. She was used to seeing him come up with all sorts of strange tricks and techniques in the past; but this silent and subtle method that made all things bow down still made her heart skip a beat and her throat tighten.

In a short while, all the puppets froze, and even the array patterns engraved on the ground began to crack like spider webs, peeling off in a rustling sound.

"My God... what did you do?!"

"It's actually not difficult—everything has its own resonant frequency. Once you find it, you can shatter even the hardest iron with a gentle nudge. You'll understand once you take a few more glances."

Hearing him adopt that nonchalant tone again, Qingluan stood there, speechless for a moment.

If you're going to pretend, why pretend so subtly and so naturally?

As they ventured deeper into the terrain, they became more familiar with it.

This heavenly palace does indeed consist of several halls, but most of the doors are closed, except for one that is open—the Peach Garden.

The words "Pan Tao Yuan" came into view, and Lin Daochen's brows furrowed slightly.

Could it really be related to the Heavenly Palace recorded in ancient books?

Logically speaking, Kunlun Mountain should be the residence of the Queen Mother of the West. If it is the Jade Pool Palace, where did the Peach Garden come from?

The question lingered in his mind, but it did not hold him back—with Qingluan by his side, he dared to take two steps even through mountains of knives and seas of fire.

Upon entering the park, one is greeted by a landscape of peach trees, their branches gnarled and their bark mottled, yet appearing perfectly normal.

The strange thing is that the garden is devoid of flowers and fruit, and not even a single new bud can be found.

The two walked slowly, their eyes scanning every shadow of the trees, every fallen leaf, not even missing the soft rustling of the wind through the branches.

"Don't you think... these trees seem to still be alive?"

These words rang out again, and Qingluan's right foot, which was about to step forward, was left hanging in mid-air.

If I remember correctly, last time, as soon as this guy finished speaking, all the puppets around him opened their eyes and stood up—could he be doing the same thing again now? Qingluan tensed her back, her gaze sweeping across the surroundings like a knife. Just as she was about to catch her breath, the ground beneath her feet suddenly trembled and rumbled.

The two looked at each other and shook their heads with bitter smiles—the tree trunks that had been withered and dead were now twisting and turning one after another!

The bark cracked inch by inch, revealing distorted human faces protruding from it, with ferocious features and mouths stretched to their ears, exuding a chilling aura.

The entire forest came alive, its branches like whips and roots like claws, lashing out at them relentlessly. Lin Daochen's eyes narrowed, and he drew his longsword. Before the cold light had even faded, two approaching old trees were already sent flying by the sword energy, crashing heavily into the rock wall, sending debris flying everywhere.

These ancient trees possessed cultivation levels of at least the peak of the Integration Realm, making them far beyond the capabilities of a mere Golden Core cultivator like himself.

Fortunately, this time there was no need for a fierce battle—the aura of the Azure Phoenix suddenly exploded, its body enveloped in crimson flames, and with a flurry of palm strikes, its afterimages were as fast as lightning. In just a few breaths, the ground was covered with broken branches and charred wood, devoid of any sign of life.

The two continued deeper, and suddenly a dark well appeared before them, its bottom unseen, seemingly leading straight to the earth's core. For some inexplicable reason, they both became convinced that this was the only entrance to the deepest level.

Without waiting for any discussion, Qingluan leaped into the darkness. Lin Daochen had no choice but to grit his teeth and follow.

After falling for a full half-incense stick's time, my feet finally touched solid ground. Suddenly, a vast expanse opened up before me—the space was far beyond my imagination; the rock walls gleamed with a faint white light, their texture far beyond that of ordinary mountain rocks.

Qingluan lightly tapped the stone wall with her fingertips, and amidst the crisp echo, her eyes suddenly lit up: "A spirit stone vein! Where is the main vein node? After I finish my business, I'll dig it up by the roots!"

This woman's ruthlessness and appetite are truly astonishing.

But who has time to worry about the mines right now? Finding the Haotian Mirror is the most important thing.

The further in you go, the higher the dome becomes, and the wider the terrain. Judging from the length of time it took to fall, this place is probably deep inside the core of the Kunlun Mountains.

As he walked until he reached the end of the mountain, Lin Daochen suddenly felt that the spiritual energy was so dense that it was almost viscous—at least ten times denser than the outside world!

The ground was damp, with droplets of water slowly drifting by. He bent down to examine it closely and then saw clearly: it was spiritual energy condensed to its extreme, spontaneously forming liquid in the air, like dew or tears, quietly dripping down.

"Where is the Haotian Mirror?"

Qingluan murmured, her gaze cold and indifferent to the strange sights around her—she had come only for this mirror, with no other intentions.

As far as the eye could see, the distance had sunk into darkness, but a verdant meadow stretched out before us, with a vibrant energy flowing like a river, meandering through the dim light.

Just as the two bent down to examine the cave closely, an old voice suddenly rang out from deep within the cave—

The source of the sound was difficult to discern, yet every word resonated like a bell, making one's eardrums buzz. Just by listening to the tone, one could tell that the speaker was well over ninety years old, perhaps even more than a hundred.

"What kind of child dares to trespass on my forbidden ground?"

The oppressive aura was like a mountain, and the two instinctively stopped in their tracks, holding their breath and looking around.

But the voice paused for a moment, then revealed a hint of joy, like rain after a long drought—

"...This old man has been living alone in this place for too long, and has not seen a single living person for many years. Now that you have shown yourself, I will grant you the opportunity to ask two questions as a token of my gratitude!"

Lin Daochen remained silent, his divine sense spreading out like a net, scraping inch by inch through the crevices and dark corners of the rock, searching for the source of the sound.

Qingluan frowned and asked, "Who exactly are you? Why are you trapped here?"

"These are two questions," the old voice replied crisply.

Even so, he answered slowly:

"My name is Bai Mei. I am an immortal who fell during the creation of the world. I was ordered to draw a circle on the ground to guard the Haotian Mirror."

White eyebrows!

It was the Mirror Master they had been searching for! Qingluan's heart warmed, and her tone became urgent:

"Please hand over the Haotian Mirror to me—the cultivation world is facing a great calamity, and only this mirror can turn the tide!"

The cave was silent for a moment, then a soft sigh could be heard after a long while:

"You are the third person to ask for a mirror under this pretext. That concludes my two questions. Young friend over there, what would you like to ask?"

Lin Daochen lowered his eyes to look at his palm, slowly raised his hand, and spoke in a deep and steady voice:

"I want to know how to become a realm lord."

To become the Lord of the Realm?

Bai Mei pondered for a moment, and suddenly ripples appeared in the void. In the center of the ripples, a figure slowly solidified.

An elderly man with white hair and beard slowly appeared, circled Lin Daochen once, his robe sleeves fluttering lightly, his aura as calm as an ancient well.

"You aspire to rule a realm? You certainly have the ambition—but right now, you're not qualified to touch that forbidden barrier. Knowing too early isn't a blessing, it's a calamity!"

"However..." He suddenly narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp as hooks, "your style of attack reminds me of a character—the reincarnation of the King of Benevolence? Could it really be you?"

Upon hearing this, Lin Daochen helplessly turned his head to look at Qingluan beside him.

This is the second time this has been mistaken for someone else.

Qingluan clenched her teeth, making a grinding sound, and a stubborn line appeared on her cheek.

But she forcefully suppressed her surging anger—if she got too angry, the Haotian Mirror would fly away.

"White Eyebrows!" Her voice was as cold as frost. "In all these years, hasn't a single person even given me a second glance?"

"How many times have you used me as a substitute?!"

Bai Mei then focused his gaze, his eyes lingering on Qing Luan's features. After a long while, he suddenly slapped his forehead and exclaimed in surprise:

"Oh! I remember now! It's an old friend! How could I have forgotten you!"

The moment Qingluan's lips curled into a slight smile, the opposing team's finishing blow came crashing down on her:

"Venerable Wanxu? You... how did you become a girl? You were clearly a towering man back then! Did you lose your manhood when you were reincarnated?"

"White Eyebrows—I'll chop you up! I, Renwang, am the one who will lead the charge in the Battle of Slaughtering Heaven, not your candidate!"

The two instantly became entangled in a fierce struggle, their robes billowing and their hair and beards flying wildly, showing no trace of their seniority.

Lin Daochen stood there, mouth agape, stunned like a stone—he thought he was going to pass a trial, but the Haotian Mirror ended up in his hands without him even realizing it.

After catching her breath, Qingluan finally spoke, explaining her purpose:

"I will use it to reopen the path to heaven. The Mirror of Heaven and Earth is shattered, but this mirror can uphold the heavenly order and mend the broken threads."

"Have you thought this through?" Bai Mei's playful tone vanished, his voice suddenly turning deep and somber. "You are no longer the brave person you once were. One wrong step, and your soul will be scattered, leaving you not even worthy of being a ghost—just an empty shell to be driven around by others!"

Their subsequent words became increasingly obscure; each word entered his ears, yet vanished without a trace, like water flowing over stone. Lin Daochen grew more and more bewildered, realizing that the two must have secretly set up a restriction to erase the truly important words from his consciousness.

After the two finished speaking, Lin Daochen hesitated before speaking:

"The Path to Heaven... what exactly is this path? And why must it be opened?"

Qingluan simply smiled faintly and remained silent.

Bai Mei stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on the churning sea of ​​clouds outside the cave, his voice hoarse as gravel:

"The time has not yet come, and the secrets of heaven have not yet been revealed. When you truly stand before that door, you will understand—once the path to heaven opens, blood will flow like rivers, and the mountains and rivers will turn red."

Before she finished speaking, Qingluan's figure had already dissipated into a wisp of green light, disappearing in the blink of an eye, leaving not even a trace of her clothes behind.

Just as Lin Daochen breathed a sigh of relief, he suddenly felt the mountainside tremble, and the spiritual energy was frantically drained away like a receding tide—the woman had actually drained the entire spirit stone vein dry before she left!

The white eyebrows also disappeared, as if they had never appeared.

When he returned to Kunlun Gate, the sunlight had already bathed the mountaintop. As usual, Lin Daochen strolled into the Sutra Repository, only to see a hunched figure sitting on an old chair—it was the former elder who had given him the tattered scroll years ago.

"Didn't you already travel far away? Why have you returned here?"

The old man looked up, his withered fingers gently stroking the back of the chair, his voice as soft as a falling leaf:

"Mo Chen. The name remains, but the person should have long since dispersed. I'm leaving, and I've done what I desperately wanted to do back then... But now that it's done, my heart is empty. The feeling is as bland as paper, and I can't bear to throw it away—I don't have many days left, so I have to find something I won't regret before I close my eyes and do it."

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes slightly closed, a layer of ashen grayness rising from the corners of his eyes—a sign that his lifespan was nearing its end.

Cultivators spend their lives rushing about, climbing peaks and crossing mountains, but in the end, they leave in a panic even on their final journey—they haven't done what they wanted to do, haven't seen what they wanted to see, and after living a whole life, it seems as if they have never truly lived.

Lin Daochen choked up, unable to utter any words of comfort, and silently took out a kettle to boil water and brewed a cup of hot tea.