The Path Toward Heaven

Nan Wang looked over at the lakeside.

The drunkenness in her eyes had disappeared instantly as Nan Wang made a turn. A wild and fresh aura exuded from her body; more importantly, her bearing appeared exceedingly awe-inspiring. She had changed back to a demeanor suitable for the peak master of Qingrong.

The small boat moved forward against the waves without the paddling of oars, creating countless sprays in its wake. Soon, it arrived at the lakeside.

Kneeling on the ground, the doctor held a file over his head while staring at the ground, not daring to raise his head.

Nan Wang reached out her hand and grabbed the file in the air. After skimming it, she said to Jing Jiu, “We still need to go to Deer Mountain.”

A great many sword strings were produced on the surface of the lake, forming a net-like formation.

Nan Wang leapt in the air and stepped onto the top of the net with her bare feet, flying toward the sky with a whooshing sound.

In the next moment, the Sword of the Universe shot up.

The waves rolled up and down on the surface of the lake, and faded away after a while.

…

…

The Deer Mountain was a famous mountain situated in the southwest of Chaotian. It owed its fame to the fact that it was among the southern barbaric tribes, and it was said that the godly temple where the southern barbaric tribes paid tribute to their ancestors was located on it.

Two sword lights landed in the valley. Nan Wang looked around the wild mountains surrounding them, remaining silent.

She used to be the master of this place; but she felt it a bit unfamiliar since she hadn’t visited it for a great many years. And moreover, her heart was heavy because of the matter regarding Nan Qü.

It was evident that Nan Qü was not on Deer Mountain. If the Curtain Rollers could find him, why would Green Mountain act as if they were facing a formidable foe?

This clue was obtained because the Immortal Liu Ci had asked the Water-Moon Nunnery to employ the Heaven-Human Connection and make calculations.

Nan Wang waved her sleeve, and the silver bracelet on her wrist clanked and gave off a nice, crisp sound as hundreds of wild bees flew out from the flowering trees in the field and followed the sound heading toward the distance.

Jing Jiu was aware that she was asking the elders of the tribes for help.

It didn’t take long before a band of black smoke rose up ten miles away.

…

…

The sword lights broke through the dense forest. The leaves, after being cut into pieces, fell down with rustling sound, twirling in the air, resembling a flock of birds that had been slain and was falling in the air.

There was a clearing in the forest where a simple temple was situated, though was unclear which mountain-god this temple paid tribute to.

The Mountain-God Temple was surrounded by curtains on all sides. Yet, the connecting sections of the curtains were not tight enough; it was evident that the work was completed in a hurry.

Jing Jiu’s vision penetrated the curtains, and he saw at least dozens of barbaric southerners kneeling on the ground, touching their foreheads on the ground, their bodies trembling; it was unclear if they were extremely fearful or excited.

More barbaric southerners could be seen in the distant fields approaching. Likewise, nobody dared take look at the inside of the curtains; they were all walking on their knees with their heads hung low, showing a very faithful demeanor.

A few elders were dressed differently from the others. They wore the clothes that were more lavish than the others, with the silver necklaces on their necks. They should be the likes of tribal priests and the Elders.

No expressional change could be detected on Nan Wang’s face. It seemed that she was quite used to this kind of treatment.

She muttered something that was hard to understand for Jing Jiu.

The barbaric southerners outside the curtains bowed many times, kissed the ground, and retreated to a more distant place.

Jing Jiu walked into the temple and saw an elegant godly statue, its hand supporting its chin while sitting on a lotus. He felt this statue looked familiar, asking, “Is this your ancestor?”

“It’s me,” replied Nan Wang.

Jing Jiu was baffled at first, but soon he understood the reason.

The biggest difference between mortals and Cultivation practitioners was the lifetime.

The prolonged time attributed to the manufacture of fairy tales.

The ground in the godly temple was dug open, exposing some dark matters.

Judging from the freshness of the dirt, the tribal elders had just received Nan Wang’s message and dug it open not long ago.

Those dark matters were not coal, but dark wood.

Many pieces of old wood from thousands of years ago had been buried under the ground of the godly temple by the barbaric southerners; they called these old pieces of wood the godly wood. There were many meanings behind the godly woods suddenly changed into dark woods.

The expression on Nan Wang’s face turned grave. She sat down on the ground, and her bearing grew sluggish.

She pulled her left foot back under her buttock and extended her right leg forward; her bare feet looked like the white lotus. Supporting her chin with her hand, she seemed to be pondering something.

If she held an alcohol jar in her hand, it would be the often seen scene on the top of Qingrong Peak where a drunken beauty sat against a large rock under the starry sky.

There was no alcohol jar at the moment.

She looked very much like the godly statue in the temple.

Jing Jiu looked at her quietly.

Nan Wang closed her eyes, as if sleeping soundly.

The silver bells on her body suddenly rang out.

These small silver bells on her body usually made no noise, no matter whether she walked on the roads or flew on the sword in the sky.

The silver bells vibrated at an increasingly faster pace, and the crisp ringing grew more frequent. The sound penetrated the curtains and resonated all over the fields and mountains.

The cheers of the barbaric southerners burst out outside the temple, followed by the deep and vigorous music and singing; later the stomping of feet on the ground was heard.

The dancing party should have started.

Time passed by slowly. Nan Wang was still asleep. The silver bells kept on ringing until the fall of night.

The bonfires were set up. The barbaric southerners were still dancing and singing without rest. They didn’t feel tired, instead growing more excited after drinking alcohol.

Jing Jiu sensed there were at least several thousand energies gathering in the Mountain-God Temple; they grew increasingly stronger and thicker, as if they would condense into cheerful raindrops and fall down.

Nan Wang suddenly opened her emotionless eyes and stabbed her finger at the sky carelessly.

This looked simple, but it was the combination of the Endless Sword style of Qingrong Peak and the godly magic of southern tribes. She was the only one who could do it in all of Chaotian.

Countless fine threads of light shot out from her finger, forming a huge diagram in the air.

This diagram had distinctive bright and dark parts, and a structure had gradually formed. It was evident that this was a map of the southern land.

The landscapes on the map were more detailed for the areas that were closer to the Deer Mountain, where a small stream and a cave were even clearly marked. On the other hand, the landscapes on the map were blurrier as the areas grew further away from the mountain. The distant Snowy Kingdom occupied a vast empty space on this map.

A bright speck could be seen near the Deer Mountain on the map; it should be the Mountain-God Temple they were in.

A dark line extended from the bright speck to the distance.

Jing Jiu knew that it was his turn now.

His sight fixed on the empty space at the bottom of the map because a bright speck appeared there.

It was a patch of South Ocean, where the sailors of a godly ship from Penglai Island were slain.

The second bright speck appeared on the seashore in the south, where all the villagers died mysteriously.

More bright specks appeared later in the places where the Green Mountain Sect believed he would most likely go. The distribution of these bright specks seemed to be in disorder, yet if one looked at the map from a distance, they would find that the distribution of those bright specks looked like a fan, extending northwards from the line drawn from the deep part of the South Ocean to the small village by the seashore.

The dark line starting from the Mountain-God Temple reached the area of the fan, expanding gradually and turning into a dozen bright spots arranged neatly in rows from the top to the bottom.

Yizhou was near this belt of bright spots.

As such, the West Ocean was not far from it.

Jing Jiu remained silent.

He had expected Nan Qü to make other choices, but he didn’t anticipate that he was so confident.

Having sat for a whole night, Nan Wang had used up a great deal of her mental energy; she felt a bit tired. After stretching her back with a yawn, she asked, “Where the heck is he?”

Those bright specks looked tiny on the map, but they were at least as large as one hundred square miles in reality, so it was that easy to find out where Nan Qü was among a dozen of bright specks.

Nan Wang moved her head back and forth, the silver bells quivering as she spoke. She then pouted, as if she was an ordinary young woman of the barbaric tribes who was being mistreated.

Looking at her snow white belly, Jing Jiu thought it would be better if she hadn’t drunk so much alcohol.

Nan Wang noticed his line of sight, saying, “You want…”

Jing Jiu didn’t have a death wish, nor did he want to touch it. Pointing at a bright spot on the map, he interrupted, “He is here.”

“Why?” asked Nan Wang; she forgot about the earlier matter.

Jing Jiu pointed at the village by the seashore and said, “Based on the normal speed of traveling, he is mostly likely to be here.”

Nan Wang wondered what the normal speed of traveling was, since the Great Grandmaster of the Foggy Island had a profound Cultivation state and could travel thousands of miles to and fro like a sword of the Fairy State at will.

“If a sliver of energy were leaked out from Nan Qü, the Sword Formation of Green Mountain would be able to detect it,” Jing Jiu said. “As such, he must find a way to seal off his energy temporarily, like what Emperor Xiao has done. But no matter which method he is employing, he can’t move around; otherwise, he will leak out his energy.”

Nobody in Chaotian could achieve the feat of making traveling as still as staying motionless.

Even though Jing Jiu had learned the Underworld Fairy Sword, he could merely achieve the feat of nearing the stillness while traveling.

Now that Nan Qü couldn’t move at all himself, he had to rely on others to carry him. In order to avoid the attention of the Cultivation circle, he had no choice but to employ the common traveling method.

Who was the person carrying Nan Qü to the deeper part of Chaotian? It couldn’t be the West Ocean Sword Sect, because the Green Mountain Sect had been watching them closely.

Though Jing Jiu didn’t know who the helper was, he had figured out another fact, claiming, “He is in a coffin.”

Thinking of the dark and gloomy energy she sensed while administering the godly magic, the expression on Nan Wang’s face changed slightly.

…

…

A horse-drawn carriage bearing a coffin had been heading northward on the official roads over the last few days.

It was an old coffin. Judging from its appearance, it had been kept in an excellent condition.

The young woman driving the carriage was also in an excellent shape.

She had a small and curved figure and attractive looks. Wearing a funeral robe of white color, she looked even more appealing, arousing a great deal of sexual interest from many wicked and devious people.

Yet, those wicked people had no idea this young woman had been a true evil person of the Old Ones.

Nan Zheng didn’t want to kill people at will, but it was rather easy for her to get rid of these people.

Ten days later, she drove the carriage to a patch of barren mountains. It was the end of the mountain path, and the distant city could be seen outside the cliff, but it was still about one hundred mile away.

She couldn’t sense even the slightest spiritual energy in this mountain range; it was barren to an extreme degree. She thought it must be the wild mountain range on the outskirts of Yizhou.

One would scarcely encounter any humans here, let alone the Cultivation practitioners. The Baotong Zen Temple, which was built by the Fruit Formation Temple to clean miasma many years ago, was still here.

Nan Zheng didn’t expect a small temple to exist in this patch of wild mountains.

It was a Mountain-God Temple of her tribes that she had been familiar with but hadn’t seen for many years.

This place was at least one thousand miles away from Deer Mountain; why was there a temple of her tribes here?

The Mountain-God Temple was very old and small. After she brought the coffin in, only a narrow space was left, just enough for her to lie down.

As she turned toward the black coffin, the eerie feeling grew stronger in her mind.

No energy came out from the black coffin, as if the Great Grandmaster had truly died inside.

She had no idea why the Great Grandmaster came here and how long she would wait here, but she didn’t dare leave.

As night fell, the mountains turned as dark as black ink. It was soundless and devoid of the cries of the wild animals.

Nan Zheng was a highly achieved swordsman of the Old Ones, so she was not afraid of the wild animals; but she was scared of quietness of this sort.

She found some oil under the stone statue in the Mountain-God Temple, and poured it into the lantern hanging outside.

The lantern was lit even though it was kind of dilapidated, and it was a red color.

The red and warm light illuminated the ruined temple.

It looked a bit cheerful as well as a little frightful.

…

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