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

"In terms of cultivation and achievements, this person has indeed reached the pinnacle and is more than qualified to ascend; however, upon closer examination of his character, he still retains a degree of recklessness and sharpness. If such a person were to enter the realm of gods, he would likely stir up trouble, overturn the old order, and cause a host of unmanageable chaos."

"While the Heavenly Court may not need to innovate every day, it absolutely cannot allow a powder keg to be brought in, needlessly causing trouble for itself."

The Heavenly Emperor raised his hand and waved it lightly, his expression indifferent, not echoing the sentiment. As the ruler of the Nine Heavens, he had his own judgment and a clear standard in his heart. How could he be swayed by a few speculations?

"What you say is precisely wrong—have you ever heard this ancient proverb?"

"Those who can stand tall and upright all begin as ignorant youths; all they seek is justice and an explanation."

"Since we reside in the Heavenly Court and govern the laws of heaven and earth, how can we be so stingy with even this basic justice? What makes you think you can preach morality and virtue? What gives you the right to stand above the Three Realms with your celestial bodies?"

These words were so powerful that they stunned the Thousand-Mile Eye and the Wind-Following Ear for a moment—when did the Heavenly Emperor, who usually only talked about asceticism and didn't care about external affairs, become so righteous and stern?

When the Heavenly Emperor used to admonish them, he would always say: "The Great Way resides within oneself, not in the court; how can one protect the world if one's realm has not yet been reached? The chaos of the Three Realms is all an illusion."

Ever since he returned from the Heavenly Palace on the Cloud Peak, he seemed to have transformed: his speech was more profound, his gaze sharper, his thoughts more meticulous, and even his aura exuded an unyielding and chilling intensity. That place must truly harbor some unspeakable variable.

"Alright, you understand what I mean—keep a close eye on Lin Daochen and make sure to prevent him from clashing with the Heavenly Mountain Immortals again." The Heavenly Emperor paused, his tone slightly somber. "Also, send more people to Kunlun and keep a close watch on them."

"He had been secretly communicating with Immortal Kunlun before, exchanging flirtatious glances. If they were to form an alliance, it would be a huge problem. Immortal Kunlun is notoriously difficult to deal with, and he has Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao behind him. Although Shen Gongbao is from a collateral branch, his Soul Refining Technique has shaken the Nine Netherworlds. Jiang Ziya's cultivation is slightly inferior, but once he has the Investiture of the Gods in his hand, even all the gods and Buddhas in the heavens must bow down and obey his orders."

"These rogue cultivators may seem to be without sect or faction, but in reality, each of them holds a key to the universe, making them far superior to our old, law-abiding subordinates in the Heavenly Court. We can only look up to them and dare not easily claim superiority."

As soon as the words were spoken, the Eyes of a Thousand Miles and the Ears of the Wind dared not say another word, and hurriedly retreated to set up surveillance in all directions.

The most important thing is to keep a close eye on Lin Daochen—prevent him from making any connections with any potential allies, otherwise the situation will collapse and be difficult to recover from.

The Three Realms are currently undergoing a quiet transformation. The Heavenly Court, which once had eyes and ears everywhere, is now frequently failing to detect anything. Several unusual events are like undercurrents, silently tearing open the cracks in the surveillance system.

Lin Daochen was the most dazzling light in this rift.

The Heavenly Emperor kept a close watch because he knew that when chaos was about to begin, the most unpredictable thing was not the storm itself, but the "variable" that could rewrite the storm's course—no one knew which path it would cleave open or where it would push this world.

At this moment, the Celestial Immortal of Tianshan sat upright in the center of the golden hall, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing as deep as thunder. Suddenly, a golden light slashed down from the dome, tearing open the void and carving out a continuously rotating rift in spacetime!

Deep within the golden vortex, a figure slowly emerged—his robes fluttered, his spine was like a sword, and he stood upright amidst the chaos, not on solid ground, yet seemingly already crushing half the sky.

The oppressive force was invisible yet crushing like a mountain, making it impossible to breathe.

The immortal from Tianshan suddenly stood up, prostrated himself on the ground, and kowtowed twice, his forehead touching the ground.

"Master, this matter has absolutely nothing to do with us. It was all Lin Daochen's doing, secretly stirring things up and setting a trap! That's why we have to suffer this enormous injustice in silence!"

The man inside slammed his fist on the table and stood up abruptly, veins throbbing on his forehead. He knew, however, that the immortal from Tianshan was merely a puppet, and his anger was futile. So he lowered his voice and pressed him, enunciating each word clearly:

"Just who is this Lin Daochen? Find out everything about him right now! If there's any chance—within two days, I'll annihilate him completely! Even if the Heavenly King himself came, he wouldn't be able to stop me!"

The immortal from Tianshan lowered his eyes for a moment, his lips twitching slightly upwards, before his expression turned fearful, and he hurriedly bowed in agreement.

"I will obey your orders, Master! This grand plan is entirely due to your strategic planning. With you in charge, overthrowing the Heavenly Court is only a matter of time. As for Lin Daochen? He's nothing more than an ant that we can crush at will."

The Purple Emperor stood silently in the center of the swirling golden spacetime vortex, his face blurred and indistinct, only his body shrouded in thick, inky purple mist—that aura subtly resonated with the Heaven-Stealing Power dormant within Lin Daochen's body.

However, the difference in their oppressive power was like heaven and earth. If Lin Daochen were standing here, he would probably be crushed into dust by that invisible pressure before he could even breathe.

Lin Daochen was completely unaware of this. He was still unaware that an unseen hand was quietly gripping his fate by the throat. Could he break free? No one could say for sure. Perhaps only when the dust settled would he truly see where that lifeline led.

the other side.

The waterfall roared, and the water vapor was misty.

Before the thatched hut by the lake, Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao sat side by side, each holding a bare fishing rod. The lines were lowered into the water, but the hooks had long been cut off. The two men remained focused, their eyes unblinking and their hands still, as if they were contemplating the Great Dao.

Lin Daochen stood to the side, shaking his head with a wry smile, and couldn't help but offer some advice:

"Gentlemen, take a break! Fishing in this lake for three days and three nights without a hook is a waste of time!"

Shen Gongbao laughed loudly, shaking his fishing rod with its gleaming silver hook and taut line:

"Did you hear that, senior brother? What 'willing fish take the bait'? That's pure nonsense! What can you possibly catch with that bare rod? Why not use mine—sharp hook and strong line, I can pull even a dragon ashore, let alone small fish!"

Jiang Ziya's face remained calm and still, like a still well; Shen Gongbao, on the other hand, crossed his legs, his eyebrows dancing with excitement, as if the outcome of the battle was already written in the palm of his hand.

Lin Daochen was about to offer further advice when Jiang Ziya spoke first:

"Young friend, does spiritual cultivation truly require meditation, energy cultivation, and even splitting mountains and seas to be considered successful?"

"If you say that cultivating strength is cultivation, then what about us sitting quietly with a fishing rod, observing the water and listening to the wind, keeping our minds still—does that also count as cultivation?"

Upon hearing this, Lin Daochen was speechless. This wasn't fishing; it was clearly using conversation as bait, waiting for him to take the bait. He simply shut his mouth, only sighing inwardly—after all, the two people opposite him were an ancestor on the Conferred God Platform and a cunning old fox who stirred up trouble. If he said anything more, it would seem like he had lost his composure.

"Alright, alright, I've learned your teachings, senior, and I've taken them to heart! But the food on the table has gone cold three times already—I've made seven pots of soup with the fish I caught, and you two have been fishing here in such a state of 'forgetting to eat and forgetting the time'... Could you please step aside and have a sip of hot soup?"

Before the words were even finished, the two of them kept their eyes straight ahead, as if they could only hear the sound of water.

Lin Daochen raised his hand to his forehead and sighed deeply.

This isn't fishing, it's treating him like the Kitchen God, and even cooking him into Laba garlic!

In the end, he could only shrug and resign himself to his fate, stepping aside.

The scene was quite comical: two white-haired old men sat by the lake, their fishing rods dangling from the blue water; next to them stood a young man with a sour face, arms crossed, eyes wide open, looking just like a small stone lion guarding a temple gate.

They didn't put away their fishing rods and get up until the afternoon sun was setting and the sun was casting its golden rays.

Jiang Ziya stretched, his bones cracking, clearly indicating that his back was stiff from sitting too long.

Shen Gongbao immediately clapped his hands and laughed, "Senior brother, do you admit defeat? This time you've lost clearly and decisively! You can't go back on your word!"

Jiang Ziya lifted his eyelids, glanced at him sideways, said nothing, simply hoisted the fishing rod onto his shoulder, and turned to leave.

"Alright, alright, you win this time! But let me make this clear first—give me some food first, my stomach is growling!"

Seeing that the two seniors had finally remembered the matter of filling their stomachs, Lin Daochen's lips relaxed and a smile appeared. But just as he was about to nod, a thought suddenly flashed through his mind, and he raised his hand and slapped his forehead, as if he had remembered something important.

"Oh dear, I'm so ashamed! I was so busy with work that I completely forgot about this—our stove is almost empty, the rice jar is so empty it could be banged on a drum, and there are only a few strands of meat left in the jerky. Why don't we go down the mountain together while it's still light and buy some fresh produce? What do you two think?"

Upon hearing "go down the mountain," Shen Gongbao's eyes lit up, and he grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth, looking just like a cat that had smelled blood.

"Ha! Wonderful! I've been squatting on this mountain for over a decade, I can barely even remember what the smoke from the chimneys at the foot of the mountain smells like anymore. Let's go, let's set off!"

Once the idea was decided, everyone immediately got to work: Lin Daochen quickly packed his bags and tied up the bamboo baskets; Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao continued casting their lines and fishing, casually stuffing the few silver-scaled fish they had just caught into a ceramic jar to keep them alive.

Just as they were about to step out the door, a dark cloud suddenly rolled in from the horizon. Before the wind had stopped, an old man wrapped in a dark cloak had already stepped through the air and landed steadily under the eaves of the thatched hut.

He threw his head back and laughed three times, then bowed deeply to Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao. His voice was loud but lacked any warmth: "You two immortal masters are still as elegant as ever! You must have long forgotten this old man's face!"

Jiang Ziya didn't even lift his eyelids, while Shen Gongbao simply turned his face away to pick at his nails. Lin Daochen knew something was wrong, so he silently took half a step back, stood quietly with his hands at his sides, acting as if he were a clothesline pole—not interrupting, not joining in the fun, and certainly not trying to clean up the mess.

Jiang Ziya finally spoke, his tone as cold as well water: "Immortal of Tianshui? You wouldn't come to my humble abode without a reason. We've been out of touch for a whole century. What brings your precious feet to my dilapidated hut today?"

The old man in black robes stroked his beard and chuckled, the tips of his whiskers trembling slightly. His eyes, like hooks, swept over Lin Daochen: "How can friends become estranged? If you don't visit each other, the relationship will fade, and you can't blame anyone else..." Before he finished speaking, he suddenly turned to Lin Daochen, squinting as he sized him up. "Hmm? This young man looks unfamiliar, yet there's a certain familiarity about him—could he be the 'newly rich' that's been making headlines in the Heavenly Court lately?"

Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao's expressions darkened instantly. With a flick of their sleeves, a heavy gust of wind exploded out of thin air, shoving the black-robed old man out the door with a "bang," without even letting him touch the threshold.

"Ugh, the stench is enough to give me a headache the moment I walk in." Jiang Ziya frowned and covered his nose. "Is it because my yard hasn't been swept in a long time and has caught some bad luck? Never mind—close the door! And bolt the windows tight too. It's a north wind today; let's not let that rancid smell get in!"

Before he could finish speaking, there was another knocking sound at the door, slow and steady, yet with a lingering, persistent quality.