Dongting Immortal Clan

The alley is deep and secluded, with bamboo groves on both sides, their verdant greenness seemingly separating it from the hustle and bustle of the city.

At the entrance of the alley stands a half-person-high blue stone tablet, inscribed with the four characters "Qingzhu Bieyuan" (Green Bamboo Courtyard), written in a sharp and forceful style, exuding an imposing aura.

The villa wasn't grand, but it was rather elegant, with a black lacquered wooden door and a gleaming brass door knocker.

Chen Changhe stood at the door, took a deep breath, and then raised his hand to knock on the door knocker.

A short while later, the door opened.

A young face was revealed; the boy was about eleven or twelve years old, dressed in gray with his hair in two buns.

Who are you looking for?

"Chen Changhe of the Bishui Chen family requests an audience with Senior Zhou Yan."

The boy looked him up and down and said:

"Wait here, I'll go and report it."

After saying that, he left the door slightly ajar, turned around, and went inside.

After a while, the child came out again and stepped aside:

"The master wants you to come in."

Chen Changhe followed him through the courtyard.

The courtyard looked more spacious than the outside, with blue bricks paving the ground. Several old pine trees stood strong in the corner, and a stone mountain was built in the center of the courtyard. A pool of clear water was drawn from the bottom of the mountain, and several koi carp swayed their tails slowly.

Zhou Yan sat at the head of the main hall, holding a teacup, and was reading a jade slip.

He seemed a bit older than Chen Changhe remembered, with a few more gray hairs at his temples, but he was still in good spirits, and his eyes were as sharp as ever when he looked up.

"Please sit down."

Zhou Yan raised his chin slightly, his expression unreadable.

"You came to see me today, has something happened at home?"

Chen Changhe sat down in the lower chair and, without beating around the bush, said directly:

"Senior, my elder brother went to Wulong Gorge and doesn't have a suitable weapon with him yet."

"I recently purchased two magical artifacts at the market and would like to have someone deliver them to him for his protection. I wonder if you could pass them on to him?"

Zhou Yan put down his teacup, glanced at him, and smiled slightly:

"That's thoughtful of you."

"Are those the two things you left outside the door?"

"I'll have someone take this to Guan Chengfeng, and he can pass it on to your elder brother."

"Thank you for your help, senior."

Chen Changhe nodded respectfully, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke again:

"The bowstring of that Crimson Bow is broken. I've heard that the Zhao family of Green Stone Cliff is skilled in weapon crafting. I wonder if they could help us...?"

"understood."

Zhou Yan interrupted him:

"I'll have someone send the bow to be repaired as well."

Zhou Yan's gaze fell on Chen Changhe, scrutinizing him. Chen Changhe felt a slight tension all over his body, as if he had been seen through.

Turning his gaze away, Zhou Yan didn't say anything more, but asked:

"Is there anything else?"

Chen Changhe opened his mouth, but in the end he only said thank you.

"Thank you, senior."

"I will not bother you any longer."

He stood up, cupped his hands in greeting, and slowly walked out of the hall.

Zhou Yan watched his departing figure, a thoughtful look appearing in his eyes, and murmured:

"The Chen family's 'family-inherited martial arts technique' does have some merit..."

"Chen Changhe is at the peak of the Wood Embryo stage, and his profound magical power is no less than that of an ordinary peak Jade Spring stage cultivator."

"Chen Xiaohu, who cultivates within the sect, is even more astonishing... Since entering the sect, he has undergone seven transformations through the Moon Essence Refinement. Is he aiming for the legendary 'Nine Revolutions Immortal Embryo'?"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Chen Changhe walked along the main street of Yunmeng County, his pace much faster than when he arrived.

Now that Zhou Yan had agreed to hand over the magical artifact, his elder brother would have more support, and a weight had been lifted from his heart for the time being.

He raised his head and glanced at the horizon.

As the sun sets, the evening glow paints half the sky with gold and red, and the clouds churn like fire, their flames blazing, creating an indescribable brilliance.

The sight inexplicably lifted his spirits, and the gloom of the past few days seemed to dissipate somewhat from the dazzling light of the CD player. He quickened his pace and hurried toward Baiyukou.

When I got home, it was getting dark, but the lights in the old house were still on.

Pushing open the door, Chen Chuansheng was sitting in an old rattan chair in the main room, holding the babbling Chen Xuanji in his arms, and patiently feeding him a small piece of rice cake.

Zhang Xiulan teased Chen Xuanze on the side, while Wang Guifang was busy in the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans clanging.

"father."

Chen Changhe shouted.

Chen Chuansheng looked up, saw him enter the room, a barely perceptible hint of relaxation flashed in his eyes, and he nodded:

"It's good that you're back. Let's eat first."

Zhang Xiulan placed the child in the cradle beside her and got up to go to the kitchen to help serve the dishes.

Before long, four simple home-style dishes and a bowl of rice were laid out on the square table, steaming hot.

Just as Chen Changhe sat down, Old Zhang, carrying Zhang Nianci, rushed over upon hearing the news.

At the dinner table, Chen Changhe recounted his observations and experiences over the past few days.

When they mentioned that the Fairy City of Deer Horn Mountain was besieged by evil cultivators and that the "Mountain-Carrying Guest," a cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage, appeared and scared away the powerful enemy, Chen Chuansheng and Old Zhangtou were both shocked and gasped.

"I've already had someone send the magical artifacts to my elder brother."

Sister-in-law Wang Guifang brought out the soup, wiped her hands on her apron, her eyes filled with worry, and asked softly:

"Changhe...when will your eldest brother be back?"

Chen Changhe paused slightly in his chopsticks, remained silent for a moment, and then said:

"It could take a month or two at best, but if the encirclement and suppression efforts don't go smoothly... well, it's hard to say."

"Guifang, this matter is an order from the Immortal Sect's Wind Watcher, and we can hardly resist it. Guan Chengfeng also agreed that day, and will let Dajiang handle the logistics. There is no danger."

Chen Chuansheng spoke in a deep voice.

Wang Guifang lowered her head and didn't ask any more questions. She just silently added rice to her father-in-law's and son's bowls.

The main room fell silent for a moment, with only the sound of bowls and chopsticks clattering.

……

After finishing his meal, Chen Changhe put down his chopsticks and stood up, saying:

"I'll go check out Qingchi Villa."

He left the old house and walked along the familiar path to the other courtyard.

The moon has risen, hanging on the treetops in the east, its clear light casting a hazy glow on the winding path.

A night breeze blew across the lake, carrying a damp, fishy smell, and felt cool on my face.

The courtyard was completely silent.

Chen Changhe took out the string of warm, smooth ebony prayer beads that were no longer greasy; the wooden child was residing inside them.

Holding the prayer beads in his hand, he walked to the edge of Shangyuan Pond and sat down cross-legged.

The moonlight fell on the surface of the pond, shattering into a silvery white.

He infused a wisp of magical power into the prayer beads.

The prayer beads lit up, and a gray-white shadow floated out from them, slowly landing in front of him.

He still looks like a child.

He was about five or six years old, wearing a light blue silk robe with cloud and dragon patterns. He had bright and intelligent features, like a young master carefully raised by a noble family.

It tilted its head and looked at Chen Changhe with a hint of surprise on its face.

"Come and accompany me in my spiritual practice."

Chen Changhe said in a low voice.

Mu Tong blinked and tilted his head, as if he were sizing him up.

A moment later, it turned around, floated lightly above the surface of the Shangyuan Pool, sat suspended in mid-air, its small mouth slightly open, and began to slowly inhale and exhale the thin spiritual energy in the pool.

The mixed gray and black evil energy was absorbed into its soul and circulated once.

The fierce and turbid evil intent seemed to be filtered out, and a purer spiritual energy was slowly exhaled, turning into spiritual mist that spread across the surface of the pool, blending with the moonlight and water, adding a touch of ethereal fairyland.

Chen Changhe closed his eyes and concentrated, taking a deep breath of the spiritual mist.

The spiritual energy enters the body, gently nourishing the meridians, and the magical power circulates slowly on its own, bringing a sense of comfort.

Upon introspection, the eighty-one strands of Yin energy within the dantian flowed like liquid mercury, deep and heavy.

But he could sense that the door leading to Yuquan remained as solid as a rock, unmoved.

Eighty-one strands of magical power...

With ordinary techniques, thirty-six strands are enough to reach the Jade Spring.

He cultivated to eighty-one strands, but he was still far from perfect.

Chen Changhe opened his eyes, looked at the spiritual mist drifting on the surface of the pool, and remained silent for a long time.

The wooden child swallowed and exhaled for a while, seemingly "satisfied," and its small soul became even more solid.

It yawned, turned into a gray-white shadow, and disappeared back into the ebony prayer beads in Chen Changhe's palm.