Chapter 2: Knocking on the Mountain

Riding his auspicious cloud, Star Lord Du Heng was stealthily circling around the ten thousand great mountains of Kunlun. By the time the Golden Crow had sunk in the west, he hadn’t yet covered even one ten-thousandth of the area. His goal was to find a poorly guarded corner to sneak in through. But this legendary Kunlun Mountain, entirely contrary to expectations, was completely unguarded; he couldn’t even see a barrier.

Du Heng began calculating on the spot.

There were two possibilities: One, his own cultivation was too shallow to see the mountain’s outer barrier. Two, the great figure inside the mountain simply didn’t take any of the small cats and dogs who came here seriously. Although Du Heng felt a tiny bit of displeasure at the thought that he might just be a small cat or dog in her eyes, he inwardly felt the second possibility was very likely.

So Du Heng randomly picked a patch of grass to land on and slowly made his way in along the thick underbrush.

He moved so lightly that he didn’t even startle the birds. Then, slowly, he pulled out a compass needle—bought at a high price from a Master Craftsman immortal. While confirming his direction, he diligently began the task the Heavenly Emperor had given him: scouting Kunlun.

At first, the air was fresh and crisp. The mountain was filled with rare and exotic plants galore. Even the well-traveled Star Lord Du Heng couldn’t name most of them. He leaned close to examine the stamen of a white flower and was nearly swallowed whole by it on the spot.

This scared him so much that he no longer dared to gawk at those flowers and plants older than him.

Later, things became increasingly strange. Perhaps because the sky was darkening, the wind suddenly turned eerie. The back of Du Heng’s neck felt cold. Under the shade of the trees, shadows were everywhere. Just as he formed a hand seal, creating two specks of light at his fingertips, a disturbing noise reached his ears.

Whoosh— whoosh whoosh—

It sounded like something was burrowing out from underground, letting out heavy, gasping breaths.

Du Heng’s scalp tingled instantly, and goosebumps prickled his skin. His neck shrank back. Using the light, he looked down at his feet…

He nearly fainted dead away on the spot.

Slowly emerging from the black soil was a creature resembling a pheasant, but more than a hundred times larger. It had a black body, red feet, and a pair of deep yellow eyes. It shook the black fur all over its body. Once it got a clear look at the glowing thing standing at its feet, its throat let out a “Heh” breath, and it immediately opened a mouth full of sharp fangs.

Mountains are full of spirits and monsters, especially a mountain like this. These unsightly things usually come out at night. It was just Star Lord Du Heng’s terrible luck to have run right into one’s clutches.

Star Lord Du Heng’s eyes rolled back. Clutching his chest, he considered just passing out and being done with it. In the Mortal Realm, playing dead to escape a black bear was a thing. This pheasant would probably be similar, right? But just as his expression was right, he reconsidered. This wasn’t the Mortal Realm! What if he fainted and got bitten or swallowed by this pheasant? He was a fairly big immortal, after all. Judging by the creature’s mouth, it would have to chew him up before swallowing. Half inside its mouth, escape would be impossible.

He made a split-second decision: he would fight this pheasant to the death.

Unfortunately, Star Lord Du Heng usually spent his days watering flowers and tending grass. His skills were poor. He retreated in panic while desperately racking his brain for the basic incantations and hand seals he had learned after ascending.

“Hey! Evil spirit, begone!”

The hand seal he formed was the Empty Wisdom Fist Seal, but what his mouth babbled was that ghost-deceiving nonsense used by mortal Daoist priests. It was utterly ridiculous.

The pheasant actually seemed startled for a moment, raising a large wing to cover its face.

“Stay back!” Star Lord Du Heng flailed his arms wildly, seized the opportunity, and bolted with his tail between his legs.

The pheasant wasn’t angry. With a flap of its wings, it flew up lightly. “Lightly,” it landed right in front of Star Lord Du Heng, the impact nearly knocking him off his feet.

“Heh— heh—” it taunted: Run, why don’t you keep running?

My life is over! Star Lord Du Heng thought.

He closed his eyes, ready to become this creature’s meal.

Had any of those Star Lords sent out before actually died out there? Why hadn’t he gone to ask the old man Taishang Laojun before coming? So he could have been prepared? He was sent out here to die! Even if it was just his physical body, his spirit could escape back… but he’d spent ten thousand years cultivating this physical body into this appearance!

Because his eyes were closed, his other senses became sharper. Du Heng could even smell the thick, foul stench from the demon’s mouth as it opened wide. Just as he planned to have his spirit burst out of his body the moment the creature bit down on his head, the demon slowly moved its head away and closed its mouth.

Du Heng squinted at it.

It also looked at Du Heng.

“Heh—” Then it turned around and ran off.

Somehow, Du Heng felt like he heard it scoff.

He dusted off his robes, formed another hand seal, and prepared to continue inwards. Turning his head, he was nearly scared to death again.

Standing in the darkest part of the forest was a tall human figure. Du Heng didn’t dare look at it out of curiosity again. He swallowed, tiptoeing in the opposite direction. But although his foot moved forward, his person didn’t move an inch.

The tall dragon youth was holding him by the back of his collar, no different from holding a scrawny little chick. He said, “The Mountain Saint requests your presence.”

Star Lord Du Heng had been messing around in the sky during the day, and had ultimately blundered right into the territory of the white dragon Meng Zhaozhong. He had been coiled in the water, watching this silly little Star Lord bumble and crash through the forest until the Mountain Saint gave the order.

Du Heng kicked his legs in the air a few times and said helplessly, “Good sir, please put me down first.”

The youth had a chiseled, rugged face in human form, standing a head taller than ordinary humans.

Du Heng craned his neck to look at him and suddenly understood why the pheasant had run. This person’s cultivation was definitely much stronger than the pheasant’s. Just the powerful aura around him was enough to put him among the top ranks even in the Upper Realm.

He immediately knew what to do: stick close, so his life would be secure.

He followed Meng Zhaozhong step by step, his feet stumbling over the dark, heavy soil. From time to time, he could hear the eerie cackle of night owls in the high trees and the deep, heavy roars from underground. Glancing at Meng Zhaozhong’s back, he grabbed the corner of his robe.

Before receiving the Heavenly Emperor’s order, Star Lord Du Heng had never formed any image of her in his mind. This person’s life was too far removed from these minor Star Lords. Now, thinking he was about to meet a great figure even greater than the Heavenly Emperor, Star Lord Du Heng did form some conjectures.

He thought: She should first have majesty like the Heavenly Emperor, making people too afraid to breathe. Then, she should have a beauty surpassing everyone—weren’t gods who lived longer said to be more beautiful? But then again, maybe not. Perhaps she was an old woman? Having lived so long…

Star Lord Du Heng frowned.

Yes, she had lived so long and hadn’t died.

Wasn’t it said that gods cannot die? Then how did Nuwa and Fuxi die back then? Where did the original gods and immortals come from? Who established the Upper Realm, and how was the Heavenly Emperor chosen?

The dragon youth stopped. Du Heng crashed headfirst into his back, doubling over and hopping in circles while clutching his nose in pain.

“We’re here,” Meng Zhaozhong said.

Du Heng looked up. Compared to the magnificent palace where the Heavenly Emperor lived, the Mountain Saint’s residence was practically a thatched hut. Blue bricks, black tiles, a bamboo fence around the courtyard; he could take in the entire scene inside just by looking from the doorway.

He turned to look at Meng Zhaozhong. Meng Zhaozhong made a “please” gesture towards him.

“No restrictions?”

“None.”

Du Heng stuck one foot out, testing it warily at the door frame, before walking in anxiously. Then he heard a clear, sharp dragon roar behind him. A giant dragon soared towards the direction he had come from, roaring majestically.

Du Heng: “…”

So it was a dragon! This dragon was much larger than any he had seen in the Upper Realm. If his focus had been on cultivation, he might have wanted to cling on here even if it killed him. Judging by the spirits and demons in Kunlun Mountain, the spiritual energy here was far more concentrated than in the Upper Realm.

Kunlun glanced over at the minor Star Lord hesitating by the doorway. Her hand rested on her sleeve, gently stroking it. She cast an Illusion Spell, making her sleeve look normal, then placed both hands together on her knees.

After struggling internally for quite a while, Du Heng finally walked forward with downcast eyes, knelt down respectfully, and saluted: “Minor Official Du Heng pays his respects to the Mountain Saint.”

No response.

Du Heng lowered his head even more, prostrating his body, but raised his voice considerably: “Minor Official Du Heng pays his respects to the Mountain Saint.”

“Oh,” Only then did he hear the sound of this great Buddha standing up. The rustle of her robe hem moved back and forth in front of him for the length of a full incense stick’s burn. Du Heng had nearly counted the number of stitches on the snow lotus embroidery at the hem of Kunlun’s cyan robe before he finally heard the Mountain Saint continue, “What did you just say?”

Star Lord Du Heng dared not be negligent and quickly repeated: “Minor Official Du Heng pays his respects to the Mountain Saint.”

“Du what?”

“Du Heng.” Du Heng waited for ages, his knees numb from kneeling. He had assumed she was about to ask why he came to Kunlun Mountain, but his prepared speech was forced back down into his stomach.

“Oh,” Kunlun said slowly. “Du Heng? As in the fragrant grass, Du Heng?”

“Replying to the Mountain Saint, that is correct.”

“What did you say?”

“I… minor official said, that is correct! Correct, like the Du Heng Grass, Du Heng!”

Could it be that the Mountain Saint was hard of hearing?

Kunlun looked at him, nodded, and said, “Good.”

Then there was again no follow-up.

Du Heng: “…”

Great Buddha, are you sure you actually heard what I said?