Under the rule of the Divine Dynasty, the Academy's scholarchs held one crucial duty: to oversee and regulate every cultivation sect within their jurisdiction.
But Hunzhou, remote and fractured by endless infighting, had long suffered under a string of useless prefectural officials.
As a result, not a single sect there had ever been registered in the Academy's official records.
That changed today.
The newly appointed scholar Jing Qian, bold and diligent, had finally founded the first public cultivation school in Hunzhou.
This newborn sect, the Yanfudao, might lack proper grounds, senior instructors, or a reliable pool of disciples, but after cutting a few bureaucratic corners and submitting the right paperwork, it now holds an official license.
Anywhere else, registering a new sect would take decades, sometimes centuries of effort, vast funding, and a solid reputation.
Here, Jing Qian had pulled it off in one stroke, without anyone realizing his deeper intent.
Naming the sect Yanfudao was no innocent decision.
Within the Yingfutu Realm, those two syllables Yan Fu were taboo, a name that carried centuries of forbidden weight.
So when the academy officials in Yingdu, the imperial capital, received Hunzhou's registration documents, they nearly dropped their quills in shock.
The matter was far too sensitive.
The duty officer on shift, a minor Seventh-Rank Spirit Official, barely in the Subduing Spirit realm, didn't dare handle it himself. He grabbed the papers and rushed straight to his superior.
At that moment, the academy's acting head was the Deputy Sacrificer, a Fifth-Rank Spirit Official with Star-Seizer cultivation, a man of true power, both in strength and status.
He read through the document once, his brows tightening slightly.
Though his face stayed calm, fury burned beneath the surface.
Then he slammed the document down and barked,
"Utter nonsense!"
"Who gave him the audacity to touch a Divine Dynasty taboo!?"
The trembling junior officer, terrified of being dragged into this, hurried to explain,
"My lord, Hunzhou lies far from the heartlands.
The Spirit Officials assigned there are all locally promoted bumpkins, ignorant of the rules."
"It's likely some wild cultivator stumbled upon scraps of Yanfudao's legacy and acted recklessly."
"The local scholar must be held responsible.
I'll issue a written reprimand immediately!"
The Deputy Sacrificer waved a hand sharply.
"No, don't write. You'll go there yourself."
"Take this writ from me. Go to the Battle Hall and request three Earth-Fiend Generals to accompany you.
I give you three days to clean up this mess."
"And seal the matter. Not a word of this is to reach the Three Lower Sects. We can't afford another storm."
The junior officer could only swallow his dread, bow, and depart at once.
...
Meanwhile, within the Hunzhou Prefectural Pagoda, the five newly initiated disciples of Yanfudao awoke one after another, then dropped to their knees before Jing Qian.
They understood keenly that their lives had just been changed forever, and all because of the man standing before them.
Though Jing Qian had taken them in mostly to secure registration for his sect,
he had no intention of neglecting them.
Reestablishing Yanfudao wasn't a whim; it was the start of a larger plan, a long chain of moves still waiting to unfold.
Their talent wasn't enough to make them Yanfuzhi candidates yet, but they'd serve well as core inner disciples to strengthen the sect's ranks.
Jing Qian said calmly:
"Since you have chosen to cultivate under Yanfudao, you must advance with courage and conviction."
"Our sect's heritage may not yet be restored,
but we can still provide all that is needed for your enlightenment."
"Settle your minds and train well."
"From this generation onward, you will bear the 'Sheng' character in your names."
"As I have led you through the gate, I now grant you your Dharma names Sheng Feng, Sheng Ji, Sheng Miao, Sheng Yan, and Sheng Yao, the outer disciples of Yanfudao."
"If your diligence endures, you may enter the Inner Gate upon reaching the Dragon-Elephant Realm and perhaps one day take a true master among the elders."
"When that time comes, greater rewards will await you."
"Sheng Feng, your aptitude is the highest; you shall be the senior brother of this generation.
Lead your juniors to the docks and find the Xu family's people."
"They'll see you safely by ship to the other elders for temporary training.
If all goes as I plan, within a year Yanfudao will have its rightful home and I will summon you back."
The five children, barely new to cultivation, were dismissed with a few casual words.
When they were gone, Jing Qian shut the gates of the prefecture compound behind him.
Then he picked up his greatsword, walked around to the cliff behind the pagoda, and carved a massive altar platform directly from the rock face.
Once it was done, he dragged the altar before the pagoda doors, stood there with sword in hand, and waited in silence.
...
On the membrane of the Yingfutu Realm, twenty-three Cave Heavens were fused under the suppression of the Qintian Palace, sealing a vast rift in the world's boundary.
Among them, the Pure Yang Cavern was wedged between three other Great Woods, Blood Pool, and Impermanence, each belonging to one of the Three Lower Sects. These sects clung to Pure Yang's borders like jealous lovers, never loosening their grasp.
They did so because torrents of demonic and divine power often leaked from within Pure Yang.
To the three neighboring sects, that was a treasure trove: the closer the shore, the more water to draw.
Their constant harassment of Pure Yang Heaven stemmed from a simple hope that when Shang Xi eventually fell, and Pure Yang's heritage was divided, they would claim the largest piece of the feast.
That day, however, the Pure Yang Cavern suddenly opened a small rift facing toward the Impermanence Monastery's domain.
Shang Xi Zhenren stepped out casually, his figure crossing into the Impermanence Cavern's world membrane in a single stride.
Given the long-soured relationship between Pure Yang Heaven and Impermanence Monastery, this act carried seven parts of malice and three parts of open provocation.
Inside the Impermanence Cavern, a gauzy incense curtain lifted.
A graceful figure emerged from the haze.
Impermanence Monastery had once belonged to the Yanfudao's "Death-Binding Branch,"
renowned for its mastery of curses and hexcraft, the art of harming from afar.
Yet within that lineage existed a rare offshoot: the Joyous Meditation Path,
which preached compassion through desire killing with affection, cursing with lust, poisoning with love.
And the mistress who ruled Impermanence Cavern was the path's supreme adept,
The Crimson-Lute Great Bodhisattva Miaoyin is a third-rank powerhouse.
Sensing Shang Xi's arrival, she did not dare take it lightly.
A radiant avatar rose from the cavern and came to stand upon the membrane opposite him, a serene nun clad in a heavy ritual robe, the fabric cut open only at her chest and thighs with lace-like filigree.
Despite her reputation for three thousand paramours, compassion offered to all, there was not a trace of vulgarity in her aura, only austere holiness.
She spoke softly:
"Zhenren Shang Xi graces us with his presence.
Forgive me for not greeting you sooner.
To what do we owe the honor?"
Shang Xi's voice was calm and direct:
"One of my disciples of Pure Yang Heaven Chi Ling
fell to the combined hands of Blood River Sect and your Impermanence Monastery."
"A short while ago, I severed that karma. Blood Cang lies dead."
"Now it is your monastery's turn.
Send out one Star-Seizer cultivator for me to kill,
and we will consider the matter settled."
...
Meanwhile, far below, Jing Qian stood before the Prefectural Pagoda, holding the Immortal Sword in his hand, his thoughts wandering.
He was continuously forging the Sumeru Immortal Sword Embryo, channeling endless Longevity-Blessing Sword Arts into it.
At present, the embryo held barely two qian of life measure is still immature.
To temper it enough to bear even a single Life Aspect would require centuries of lifespan to refine a lifelong endeavor.
Thus, daily cultivation could not slacken for even a moment.
Just then, a fierce arc of light streaked from the horizon, wrapped in martial qi.
The glow resolved into four cultivators, three Earth-Fiends, and one Subduing-Spirit officer, a force sufficient, under normal circumstances, to flatten all of Hunzhou.
The Subduing-Spirit academy envoy, revealing his form, broadcast his voice across the island:
"I am the Imperial Academy's duly appointed inspector!
Where is the Hunzhou Scholarch?"
"And where is that accursed so-called sect Yanfudao?!"
"Come forth immediately to receive my decree!"
Their combined auras rolled like a hurricane over the sea
Until, from the island below, four slender threads of sword-light shot upward.
They struck faster than thought, each thread brushing cleanly across a topknot.
Soft strands drifted down like snow.
Four newly shaven bald spots gleamed in the sun.
An instant later, terror crashed through all four envoys.
For a heartbeat, they had felt death breathing at their napes.
Then a calm voice rose from below:
"Honored guests, please descend and speak.
I have been expecting you for quite some time."
The four cultivators didn't dare resist; they descended from the clouds at once, landing before the pagoda.
There, before a massive incense altar, stood a young man holding a sword.
Jing Qian glanced at them and spoke calmly:
"Perfect timing, fellow Daoists. You can serve as witnesses, so that when you return to report to the Divine Dynasty, you'll be able to explain things clearly."
"My Yanfudao is legitimate and orthodox, not some counterfeit imitation."
With that, Jing Qian raised his hand.
From the Void Realm, Good Corn appeared, riding atop the three-rank Ghost Phoenix, descending into the mortal world for the very first time.
Then, with another motion of his hand, three tall sticks of incense materialized and planted themselves upright on the altar.
Finally, he reached to his ear, tore off a small white-bone earring, and crushed it between his fingers, releasing a surge of divine power.
That earring had been a decree token granted by Lord No-Eyes, the third-generation Yanfuzhi, true patriarch of Yanfudao.
All disciples under that lineage were bound by its authority; it was the source of Jing Qian's borrowed power.
Now, without hesitation, he shattered it, invoking the command within.
In that remote frontier province of the Yingfutu Realm, his voice carried like a divine bell as he began to recite a solemn offering:
"Ritual Proclamation - Jing Qian's Memorial to Heaven in Succession of the Yanfuzhi Title"
"Above stands the Yanfufu; below turns the wheel of rebirth.
Four seasons move in order; the eight extremities shine bright.
Now, I, disciple Jing Qian, accept Heaven's decree to inherit the seat of the Yanfuzhi.
In awe and reverence, I bow twice and sincerely declare to the boundless heavens:
I have heard that the Great Dao is formless; it nurtures Heaven and Earth to sustain all beings.
Supreme virtue is eternal; it moves yin and yang to grant mercy upon creation.
In the Yanfufu world, countless sentient lives rise and fall within the sea of suffering, all bound to a single thought.
I, the foolish disciple, but a speck of dust in the red dust of mortality,
have not been forsaken by Heaven and Earth, nor by my teachers' enlightenment.
I have glimpsed but a crack in the Gate of Mystery,
understood the cycle of life and death,
and felt the vast compassion that flows through all realms.
Now, by decree, I take up the Seal of Yanfuzhi,
to guard the karmic web of all beings
and preserve clarity across the Six Paths.
I burn incense, offer sacrifice, and write my oath in blood.
I pray the Yanfufu bears witness, may all under Heaven hear the voice of my Way."
Each word of the recitation carried a hidden pulse of power.
At first, his voice was soft as a whisper beside the ear;
by the middle, it rang like a bronze bell;
by the end, it thundered with the force of a vow to Heaven itself.
The four bald witnesses, each a high cultivator in his own right, could only gape in speechless terror.
They understood exactly what was happening, and none dared to interrupt.
...
At that very moment, beyond the Impermanence Cavern, when Shang Xi had spoken his demand, Miaoyin Bodhisattva found herself momentarily lost for words.
Even though the Pure Yang Master's reputation and power were extraordinary, how could he, given Pure Yang Heaven's precarious situation, dare to provoke them so openly?
Before she could reply, two other forces stirred from neighboring caverns:
the Thousand-Hand Ghost Buddha, ruler of the Great Wood Cavern and master of the Mirror Cloud Shrine;
and Blood-Robe, lord of the Blood Pool Cavern and patriarch of the Blood River Sect.
Both were high third-rank Heaven-Mending cultivators, each a cavern master with a formal divine title, just a step away from second-rank ascension.
These three, the Lower Three Sects, were bound by shared interests.
Thus, as Shang Xi appeared, the three gathered together, forming a wary encirclement.
All four were old rivals.
The trio of Heaven-Mending experts knew Shang Xi's strength well, a supposed fifth-rank Earth-Fiend whose accumulation was unfathomable.
His sword case was said to contain the refined essences of two second-rank great fiends, its sword-qi tempered over three thousand years, its power utterly beyond reckoning.
Even these three paragons of their realm dared not attack him head-on.
They didn't even manifest their true bodies, sending avatars instead.
Still, with their caverns behind them, they held firm.
So long as they didn't leave their domains, they were effectively invincible.
Even a second-rank powerhouse would see its strength ground away by the cavern's defensive laws upon entry.
With their deep foundations as a backing, they did not need to fear Shang Xi.
Should he rashly invade any of their caverns, the local suppression would let them fight on even terms.
Thus, though they could not defeat him, they feared him little.
Miaoyin Bodhisattva finally spoke, her tone light, yet laced with provocation:
"Zhenren Shang Xi must be joking.
That disciple of yours hadn't even attained longevity; death is death.
How could such a one compare to a Star-Seizer?"
"If you insist, why not take me instead?
Come into my cavern and join me in meditation upon the Joyous Dharma of Desire.
I'll gladly offer myself and even the whole Impermanence Monastery to you if only you'll accept."
The words had barely left her lips when the tiny night-spirit clinging invisibly to Shang Xi's back could no longer hold back.
She materialized in a flash and snapped furiously:
"Hah! Shameless woman!"
The instant the second-rank Mother Yaksha revealed herself, the three Heaven-Mending masters recoiled in alarm, retreating as far as possible.
Blood-Robe shouted, pale with fear:
"Shang Xi! You've been possessed by a demon!"
"I'll report to the Emperor of Ying at once!
The Pure Yang Ruins must be purged before it's too late!"
The night-spirit, Ling-ling, pouted and hissed:
"Silence!
Any who obstruct my Shang Xi brother's ascension to the stars all deserve to die!"
Though her voice was soft and lilting, the demonic qi of her second-rank corpse-body exploded outward,
sweeping across the entire cavern realm and echoing far through the void.
With such a being present, the three masters dared not step beyond their boundaries.
They clung to the edges of their own membranes, ready to flee into their caverns at the slightest movement.
For three thousand years, these stubborn Heaven-Menders had clung to Shang Xi like leeches,
binding him in endless stalemate.
Just then, from deep within the Yingfutu Realm's core, a faint chant rose beneath their feet.
It began as a murmur, then grew louder and louder, soon echoing across the entire realm.
The three masters recognized it instantly.
Their faces paled.
The Thousand-Hand Ghost Buddha was the first to cry out, his voice breaking with dread:
"A Dao-Son Sacrificial Chant!?"
"Someone's being invested as the new Yanfuzhi!"
"This must not be allowed!"
The three Heaven-Mending Grandmasters acted almost in unison.
Without a moment's hesitation, they abandoned Shang Xi and fled headlong back into their respective Caverns of Heaven.
To the Lower Three Sects, Pure Yang Ruins was nothing more than a slab of fat meat on the chopping block, appetizing, but not urgent.
The Yanfudao, however, was an old debt they all feared to remember, a nightmare that haunted their dreams.
In any sense, political, karmic, or cosmic, they knew one thing: before anything else, the newborn Yanfuzhi had to be destroyed.
At that very instant, Shang Xi, who had remained motionless all this time, suddenly drew his sword.
The Twofold Annihilation Sword erupted in his hands, transforming into a beam of blinding light that pierced straight through the membrane of the Impermanence Cavern.
Then, taking Lingling with him, he ascended in a streak of divine radiance and dove headfirst into Impermanence itself.
Had all three caverns joined forces, even Shang Xi might have hesitated.
But facing only one? He charged in without a second thought.
...
Meanwhile, on Hunzhou Island, before the Prefectural Pagoda, Jing Qian had just finished reciting his sacred memorial.
At once, he activated the power sealed within Lord No-Eyes' decree, unleashing a wave of invisible spiritual force, a ripple that only a handful of beings across the realm could sense.
Across the Yingfutu Realm, every remnant trace of Yanfudao's ancient power responded in kind.
The long-silent Ghost Origin Hall at the realm's core;
The Yanfufu Hall is buried deep within the Sea of Spiritual Emptiness.
Even the Yellow Springs Hall sank beneath the Sea of Wraiths, each stirred and returned a surge of pure Dao will, refined through three thousand years of accumulation.
And beyond these ancient legacies, within the Lower Three Sects' own cavern territories, streams of Dao light flared up as well brighter, though far more turbulent.
From within the Great Wood Cavern, the Thousand-Hand Ghost Buddha erupted in a frenzy,
Its entire body was trembling with the resonance of that call.
It burst through its own sky, emerging as a colossal thousand-armed Buddha that towered miles high, reaching across the skies to seize Hunzhou.
At the same time, from the Blood Pool Cavern, a boundless river of blood surged forth,
flowing like a crimson tide toward the island.
Within that blood river writhed countless ghostly shapes
each one a cultivator, lost over the last three millennia,
now part of the Blood River Sect's ghastly harvest.
With a single ritual act, Jing Qian had stirred the entire Yingfutu Realm.
Even the great Caverns of Law, dormant for ages, were now shaken awake.
Across the realm
in the Kitchen God's Court,
in the Compassion Nunnery,
in the Reverent Mystery Palace,
among the Three Bright Sects,
The Sea Spirits, the Mountain Ghosts, and by the shimmering Longevity Fish Pools, every great cultivator turned their gaze toward this forsaken land at the realm's edge: Hunzhou.
Even in Yingdu, within the Palace of the Human Emperor,
The reigning monarch Ying Kun, together with his heir Ying Hao,
paused to watch this grand spectacle unfold.
It was the first time in history that such attention had ever fallen upon a backwater like Hunzhou.
At the pagoda's foot, Jing Qian stood unmoving.
The Six Paths Three-Life Eye on his brow fully opened,
His vision pierces the heavens.
He could see the two Heaven-Mending giants racing toward him,
their divine auras rolling like oceans, and yet, he felt no fear.
For this, too, he had foreseen.
Before the two could even arrive,
the divine will emanating from all those ancient Yanfudao relics
descended upon him.
Jing Qian felt the infinite blessing of the Great Dao pour into his being.
A title, "Son of the Yanfudao Patriarch," imprinted itself upon his spirit.
It carved straight into his Fate Stele,
ascending to rest upon the pinnacle of the Sumeru Dao Monument.
The title itself was of mid-tier celestial rank,
its authority no lesser than his "Lord of Myriad Sumeru Manifestations."
Of the three slots upon his Dao Monument,
the newcomer forcibly claimed one,
casting out the old "Daughter of Witch and Ghost" title without mercy.
And with that, the heavens trembled.
Jing Qian had become the true and rightful Yanfuzhi
the heir of the ancient path.
But even as he attained this seat of divine inheritance,
He faced his greatest peril yet.
Two mighty Heaven-Mending foes were closing in fast.
Jing Qian, calm as ever, raised his hand and issued his first decree as Yanfuzhi:
"Let it be known
The Void Mother Tree, Good Corn, virtuous and loyal,
is hereby appointed First Grand Protector Deity of Yanfudao."
A promise kept, and a child's delight fulfilled
Good Corn practically glowed with joy.
Then came the second and third decrees, one after another:
"The Seventeenth Protector Deity of Yanfudao, Thousand-Leaf Buddha Chrysanthemum,
has proven faithless and defied divine command.
His lineage is stripped, his discipleship revoked!"
"Henceforth, the great ghost of the Yellow Springs Hall, Princess Ping'an,
gifted with wisdom and blessed with fate,
is appointed the Seventeenth Protector Deity of Yanfudao,
and shall recover all authority and relics once granted to the traitor."
The effects were immediate.
The towering thousand-armed Buddha froze, its golden glow dimmed,
its aura is collapsing as though its very skin had been peeled away.
Thousand-Leaf Buddha Chrysanthemum's worst fear had come true.
After three thousand years of borrowed time,
judgment had finally come.
Its courage was shattered.
It fled desperately back toward its Great Wood Cavern,
seeking refuge in the only place that could still offer it
a fleeting illusion of safety.
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