Chapter Two: The Quest for Immortality

At this moment, Yang Nan no longer needed to travel by carriage or horseback. With the Water-Walking Technique protecting him, he could summon a veil of mist to support his feet, allowing him to move swiftly and effortlessly. Although his speed could not compare to the flying sword techniques of the soldiers of the Sword Sect, it nonetheless served as excellent training for his Daoist arts.

Each day, he would dash hundreds of miles, stopping to rest for a night only when his spiritual energy was utterly depleted. It was only through Yang Nan’s exceptional tenacity that he was able to persevere, and even the vigilant Chiyang, who watched over him along the way, nodded his approval in secret at such endurance.

Within a thousand-mile radius, peace and tranquility reigned. Villages and fields dotted the landscape, smoke curled gently from kitchen chimneys, and farmers tended their lands at ease. There were no taxes, no oppression from corrupt officials—this was a realm that seemed almost like a paradise.

As Yang Nan observed all this on his journey, he could not help but sigh, “If the world were governed as the Kunlun Sect governs its lands, where would chaos and strife find a place?”

His lament was not without reason. The world was in turmoil, the people impoverished; from Chang’an to the Immortal-Seeking Residence, he had seen nothing but disheveled peasants, lawless demons, and rapacious officials. Never before had he witnessed such serenity.

Chiyang clapped him on the shoulder with a smile. “Ah Nan, to cultivate the Dao is to cultivate both body and heart. One day, when you have achieved mastery, you must descend the mountain and travel the world. If you can help a wise ruler restore peace and order, it will be a rare and invaluable experience.”

Yang Nan nodded with a smile. “I only wish for less turmoil in the world. If it lies within my power to help, I shall not refuse.”

Chiyang nodded again. Not all who seek the Dao are recluses; even those who reach the highest realms must experience the full spectrum of human emotions and the myriad wonders of the mortal world to attain true enlightenment. Yang Nan’s aspiration to bring order to the world was indeed commendable.

A few days later, Yang Nan arrived at the foot of Mount Kunlun. Stretching for thousands of miles, the Kunlun range resembled an ancient dragon sprawled amidst drifting clouds. Known as the ancestral dragon of the world, Kunlun was the foremost of all mountains, exuding a profound and majestic aura. It connected to the earth’s veins, making it the most renowned spiritual mountain and celestial abode in the world.

Immortal mist swirled among the mountains, and eighty-one peaks were scattered throughout the range. Countless white clouds descended from the sky, shrouding the mountains and forming the sect’s gate. Using clouds as a gate was a grand gesture unrivaled anywhere else; only Kunlun could claim such magnificence. Gazing at the faint outlines of peaks amid the mist, Yang Nan felt a surge of excitement in his heart.

Having lived two lives, his sole pursuit was immortality. He did not fear death, but since the world contained demons, spirits, and wondrous Daoist arts, might it not also hold the answers to the greatest mysteries—where he came from and where he would ultimately go?

A century of human life passes in a finger snap; all the myriad experiences of the world are but a fleeting dream. Only the Great Dao is eternal…

The Great Dao marks the beginning of the exploration of the universe’s infinite wonders, and Mount Kunlun was the starting point of his journey toward immortality and the endless mysteries of time and space.

Only a grand sect like Kunlun, with its countless divine arts and secret techniques, could offer him the chance to achieve immortality.

At last, he could seek the Dao at Kunlun…

“Grandfather, unless I reach the rank of Grandmaster, I will not descend the mountain. And if I do attain that realm, I will return to pay my respects at your grave!” Turning to the vast west, Yang Nan thought of his grandfather’s deep affection and was filled with emotion. Even now, the old man’s last words seemed to echo in his ears: “Nan’er, do not leave the mountain until you become a Grandmaster!”

Chiyang seemed to sense his thoughts and patted his shoulder with a smile. “Ah Nan, if you achieve great success in the future, you will be able to roam the world at will. You will surpass even the likes of Yang Cheng. Do not let the old duke’s efforts be in vain!”

Yang Nan nodded. “No matter what, I must enter the Kunlun Sect! No one can block my path to the Dao!”

Seeing his steadfast resolve, Chiyang nodded his approval with delight.

The two of them joined the thronging crowd, gazing up at the majestic peaks of Kunlun, their hearts brimming with excitement. There were only three paths leading into the peaks of Kunlun: the Gate of Clouds, the Gate of Waters, and the Gate of Heaven. The Gate of Heaven welcomed honored guests, the Gate of Waters connected to the Eastern Sea, but the Gate of Clouds was the main route for countless mortals and demons seeking enlightenment.

The Kunlun Sect accepted disciples regardless of background, considering only innate talent and aptitude. Each year, official disciples descended the mountain to select children with exceptional potential as novices. Besides this, there was another path—those who could traverse the Seven Paths and Seven Calamities of the Immortal-Seeking Trail and reach the mountain could become registered disciples. Thus, the Gate of Clouds was always bustling; whether demons, mortals, or Daoists, none were turned away by Kunlun.

However, moving from registered disciple to outer disciple, inner disciple, and finally to a true inheritor was no easy feat. Countless tests and trials awaited along the way.

Before the vast Gate of Clouds, dozens of Kunlun disciples in blue Daoist robes, swords strapped to their backs, stood distributing tokens to those ascending the mountain. Each of these officials radiated spiritual energy, their cultivation no weaker than Chiyang’s—an impressive sight that filled Yang Nan with awe.

Seeing his amazement, Chiyang explained, “Kunlun’s registered disciples study martial arts, and many break through to become warriors or spellcasters. Outer disciples learn various Daoist arts, and reaching the rank of Adept is merely the basic requirement. If one attains the Grandmaster level, they may enter the inner sect. To become a Venerable is to be a true inheritor! To become a Sage of War is to stand among the founders of the sect!”

Only now did Yang Nan realize the immense strength behind the world’s foremost sect.

Here, the most gifted talents from across the land gathered to seek the Dao. Ordinary folk could not even approach the mountain gate, let alone cultivate here. Thousands of Adepts could unleash their flying swords at once; under such an assault, even a Venerable would struggle to withstand it!

With over ten thousand registered disciples at the innate level, what army in the world could possibly stand against them?

Yang Nan raised his eyes and saw the endless stream of people at the Gate of Clouds, all seeking immortality and enlightenment. Even demons brazenly revealed their true forms to claim tokens, which surprised him greatly. Truly, the Kunlun Sect was broad-minded and grand in vision, embracing all within its fold—such magnanimity was beyond the reach of lesser sects.

At this point, Chiyang could no longer accompany him up the mountain. “Ah Nan, once you enter the sect, you must be ever vigilant. Remember, the pursuit of the Dao values only strength—nothing else. You must devote yourself to diligent cultivation.” As they prepared to part, Chiyang spoke with utmost seriousness. He had witnessed all of Yang Nan’s actions on this journey and, though he knew Yang Nan was no ordinary youth, he could not help but worry.

Yang Nan nodded, his heart calm. The Seven Paths and Seven Calamities of the Immortal-Seeking Trail were not so difficult to overcome. Besides, he still had the jade token given by Buxu; if he truly could not get through, he could always present the token to resolve any trouble—though doing so would invite disdain.

“Brother, wait for my news at the Immortal-Seeking Residence. If I am accepted by the sect, I won’t be able to descend the mountain for a year or two. I leave everything at the Residence in your hands.” Once on the path of cultivation, leaving the mountain without cause was forbidden. Yang Nan had gathered all his forces at the Residence and could only entrust them to Chiyang. After traveling together for thousands of miles, their bond was as close as brothers. Cultivators valued detachment, so parting required no tears.

Chiyang smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. With me here, those little demons will not cause any trouble. I’ll wait for your news at the Residence.”

Yang Nan nodded lightly, then turned and walked toward the mountain gate. In this life, his parents had died young, his grandfather had passed away, and he had no family left. Only Chiyang, who was both brother and father to him, gave him any sense of attachment. Though he felt reluctant to part, he hid it well. He joined a long queue, and when he reached the jade table at the gate, he recorded his name and origins, received his token, and proceeded toward the Seven Paths and Seven Calamities of the Immortal-Seeking Trail.

This trail twisted and turned, comprising seven paths, each shrouded in a unique worldly calamity. The seven calamities were linked in an endless loop, and those who wished to ascend had to endure these ordeals. As soon as Yang Nan entered the Gate of Clouds, he was enveloped in a sea of mist; even with his current vision, he could only see a few yards ahead.

Both sky and ground were cloaked in seven-colored clouds, and the farther he went, the colder it grew. The Seven Paths and Seven Calamities of the Immortal-Seeking Trail were famous in the cultivation world—not only as a test of a disciple’s innate talent, but also as a grand protective array for the mountain. When activated for defense, the seven calamities would descend in turn, overwhelming anyone of weak cultivation.

Yang Nan entered the first segment—the Frost segment—where water calamity reigned and biting cold pierced to the bone, as if he were in the frozen wastes of the north. Even though Yang Nan had practiced the Mysterious Jade Azure Water Technique, he could barely withstand the chill; his teeth chattered and it felt as if his very blood was about to freeze.

The stream of people ascending the mountain was endless. Most mortals, upon entering the first Frost segment, could not endure the unbearable cold and withdrew in dejection.

After passing through the first segment, more than half of those around Yang Nan had fallen away—only the stronger wandering cultivators or those with spiritual roots remained. Mortals with spiritual roots were exceedingly rare.

Enduring the agony of the icy cold, Yang Nan reached the second segment—the Fiery segment—where the chill abruptly transformed into scorching heat, as if he had entered a furnace. He nearly fainted from the intensity, but, focusing his mind, he summoned two azure dragon phantoms to envelop himself in water vapor, which brought some relief. Though not as fierce as the demonic fire of the Profound Flame Sword, the heat was still too much for ordinary mortals.

Yang Nan’s unruffled passage through the Fiery segment drew the attention of many. Several demons, unable to withstand the onslaught of fire, called out to him as “Senior Brother,” hoping he would help them along. Yang Nan merely sneered inwardly and strode on, ignoring their pleas.

Whether demon or human, those who sought the Dao must temper their will—how could one expect to succeed without such trials?

If one could not even pass the entrance test, what hope was there of pursuing immortality?

Yang Nan tested himself; even without using spiritual power for protection, relying on pure physical endurance, it was not impossible to traverse the Seven Paths and Seven Calamities—though the pain and torment would be more than most could bear. Even demons with spiritual power could not withstand the freezing and burning; ordinary people would not dare to attempt it.

After the Fiery segment came the dreaded Golden segment, where gold represented thunder. With every step, one suffered a jolt of lightning—eighty-one steps brought eighty-one bolts. Many with poor talent or weak character could go no farther. Though the lightning was not fatal, the pain was worse than death. At this stage, those with strength would use magical treasures to shield themselves and make it through.

Still, the baptism of thunder was beneficial for cultivation—though few dared to risk it.

Yang Nan dismissed the azure dragon shielding his body and stepped unprotected into the Golden segment. Lightning lashed down mercilessly with each step, but he pressed on. Many were amazed at his determination and imitated him, but after thirty or forty steps, they collapsed to the ground, unable to rise.