A Pawn's Passage

The Daoist Order was the best at slaying dragons. Ever since the Daoist Order began mass-producing flying ships, the demand for Dragon Pearls surged. Thus, the Daoist Order embarked on a century-long campaign of dragon hunting and slaughter.

To be precise, the specific type of dragon being hunted was also known as the flood dragon.

In the eyes of the common people, flood dragons could summon storms, traverse both heavens and earth, and stretch 300 meters in length. When they entered rivers and seas, they could create floods that spanned thousands of kilometers. How could anyone possibly hunt such a formidable beast?

Yet, in the eyes of the Daoist Order, flood dragons were no different from tigers and leopards to ordinary folk. Though they were dangerous, a tiger was no match for a man.

As a result, the Daoist Order nearly wiped out the flood dragons. At the very least, their numbers became scarce in rivers, lakes, and coastal waters. Some survived only in the deep seas, far from land.

Flood dragons were born incredibly powerful. Upon reaching maturity, they could rival Pseudo-Immortals, and at their peak, they could stand toe-to-toe with Immortals.

However, flood dragons were lone creatures, and when faced with the Daoist Order’s overwhelming numbers, they were defeated. By the time they realized the threat and attempted to band together, it was already too late. Their only option was to flee to the distant seas.

To the flood dragons, the Daoist Order had a notorious reputation. Yet, despite this, there was still a flood dragon daring enough to assume a human form and infiltrate the Wanxiang Daoist Palace to steal the secret of longevity. One had to admit that it was an act of sheer audacity.

In the past century, the Daoist Order began experimenting with artificial Dragon Pearls. Coupled with their existing reserves, they no longer needed to hunt flood dragons. With this shift, a new voice emerged, criticizing the brutal methods of the previous generations. While they enjoyed the prosperity built by their predecessors, they fervently advocated that the Daoist Order should uphold the virtue of benevolence and show mercy to the flood dragons.

However, many disagreed. Without the toil and sacrifice of their predecessors, how could the Daoist Order have achieved what it has today? Were they willing to walk all the way to Kunlun Mountain on foot?

Ordinary folk slaughtered chickens and cows, while the Daoist Order slaughtered flood dragons—what difference was there? Were flood dragons somehow more noble than poultry and livestock? They would rather make the flood dragons suffer than suffer themselves.

It was one thing for outsiders to criticize them, but those Daoists who enjoyed the benefits while standing on a moral high ground were hypocrites.

This was also a growing issue within the Daoist Order in recent years—the rise of so-called “pure scholars.” Perhaps due to an excess of flowerbed Daoists, more and more people began pursuing unrealistic moral ideals, standing on their perceived moral high ground to freely condemn others. They demanded that others adhere to the standards of saints, much like the self-righteous scholars of the previous dynasty.

To Qi Xuansu, the sixth-generation Grand Master seemed like a figure from ancient texts, yet in reality, his existence was not so distant. It was much like how Qin Xiang viewed Zhang Yuelu as a legendary figure, even though she was very much real.

Had the sixth-generation Grand Master not chosen to ascend early, he would still be the current Grand Master, and the Daoist disciples would not have to attach the sixth-generation prefix to his title.

The Daoist Order had no official regulations on this, but there was an unspoken rule that the current Grand Master was always addressed simply as the Grand Master. The numbering of generations was only applied to past Grand Masters. Since it was inappropriate to directly refer to the past Grand Masters by name, this was the established convention for differentiation between them.

When the fifth-generation Grand Master was in power, Qi Xuansu had not yet been born. However, by the time the sixth-generation Grand Master took office, Qi Xuansu was in the Lower Palace of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace and had never crossed paths with someone of that stature.

The upheaval following the sixth-generation Grand Master’s ascension sent shockwaves throughout the Daoist Order, but for the young Qi Xuansu who was still far removed from the central power in Jade Capital, the event was too distant and beyond his reach.

From this, it was evident that the sixth-generation Grand Master was, in fact, a contemporary figure who had been influenced by many emerging ideological trends. He believed that flood dragons should be treated with kindness and that their slaughter should cease. This decision to spare the flood dragon’s life aligned well with the “benevolent man” image that Sun Hewu had described.

Qi Xuansu suddenly thought of something and asked, “Since the Palace Master is still in Jade Capital and you are acting as the temporary head of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace, does that mean you have access to the Tianshui Core Tower?”

Sun Hewu chuckled, stroking his beard with a sly smile. “In theory, yes, that is correct.”

Qi Xuansu turned his gaze toward the crystalline wall once more.

Sun Hewu spoke, as if addressing Qi Xuansu or perhaps just murmuring to himself, “Speaking of the Tianshui Core Tower, there are still a few books inside that I haven’t finished reading. If I miss this chance, who knows how many years—or even decades—it will take to retrieve them again?”

The elder and the young man exchanged a glance.

“Shall we take a peek?”

“What if we release the flood dragon?”

“The Tianshui Core Tower has three floors. Old Shi once said that the flood dragon was sealed by the sixth-generation Grand Master on the top floor. As long as we don’t go up there, we should be fine.”

“Who’s Old Shi?”

“That would be the Palace Master. We’ve been old friends for many years. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have entrusted me with this role.”

“If the Palace Master finds out, I’m afraid—”

“Then we won’t let him find out.”

“So, shall we?”

“Let’s go!”

Qi Xuansu could see that Sun Hewu had long wanted to visit Tianshui Core Tower but was still hesitating, as if there were two little voices constantly arguing in his head.

Now, Qi Xuansu had become the final straw that broke the camel’s back, giving Sun Hewu an excuse to finally take the plunge.

It was no wonder this elderly Sage had never been promoted to an Omniscient Sage. Besides being too carefree and unrestrained, the issue was neither his capability nor his qualifications, but rather his slightly eccentric nature. Perhaps spending a lifetime immersed in books had left him with a childlike curiosity, making it difficult for others to fully trust him in an overly crucial position.

Sun Hewu took out a jade token from his magical receptacle that resembled both an official badge and a talisman.

The old man strode toward the nearest alley. As he approached, the crystalline wall blocking the alleyway immediately revealed a Daoist symbol—the Eight Trigrams. While the trigrams remained still, the yin-yang symbol began to rotate slowly.

When Sun Hewu waved the jade token in his hand, the yin-yang symbol immediately began rotating in reverse. The entire wall started to disintegrate, unraveling like strands of silk that gradually transformed into interwoven threads of light. A gap appeared, through which the scenery beyond the wall could be seen.

A moment later, the interwoven light also dispersed completely, leaving no obstruction behind.

Sun Hewu took the lead to step into the alley, with Qi Xuansu following closely behind.

The alley itself was unremarkable, just unusually long and narrow. This suggested that the nine surrounding archive towers were not ordinary buildings but rather massive structures with a hidden internal dimension.

Exiting the alley, the nine archive towers formed a courtyard-like space, with a shimmering lake at its center that reflected the moonlight. In the middle of the lake was a small island, on which stood a three-story pavilion, perfectly mirrored by its reflection in the water. This, presumably, was the Tianshui Core Tower that Sun Hewu had mentioned.

Without stopping, Sun Hewu walked straight toward the island in the center of the lake.

Qi Xuansu followed behind Sun Hewu, initially assuming they would have to walk across the water. However, he soon discovered an invisible bridge spanning the lake. As long as they walked straight ahead after leaving the alley, they could step onto the bridge without issue.

After crossing the bridge and making a short detour, they arrived at the main entrance. Above the doorway hung a plaque inscribed with a calligraphy of profound artistic conception.

Below the plaque, the doors were tightly shut, once again displaying the Eight Trigrams of the Daoist Order.

Sun Hewu once again waved his jade token, preparing to push open the doors and enter.

Just then, a cool and indifferent voice floated over from behind them. “Well, well, you two have entered Tianshui Core Tower without permission. I’m going to report this to the Palace Master.”

Sun Hewu and Qi Xuansu turned around to see Yao Pei emerging from the alley they had used, arriving at the lakeside.

Qi Xuansu felt a little guilty and cleared his throat lightly. “Daoist Yao, you really appear and disappear like a ghost.”

“I just happened to be reading in a nearby library,” Yao Pei replied with an expressionless face.

Sun Hewu was unafraid of Yao Pei’s threat. He waved his hand dismissively and said, “Miss Yao, just state your conditions directly. I will agree with whatever is within my power. Otherwise, go ahead and report it to the Golden Tower Council.”

The old Sage paused for a moment, as if trying to muster more courage before continuing, “Besides, I am the Acting Palace Master. This is in accordance with the rules, so why should I be afraid?”

Yao Pei walked along the invisible bridge to join them. “Count me in.”

Sun Hewu laughed heartily and pushed open the door to enter the restricted tower.

Qi Xuansu and Yao Pei exchanged a glance, neither saying a word. They quickly followed the elderly man.

The first floor of Tianshui Core Tower was filled with densely packed bookshelves, where books were meticulously categorized and stored in protective cases. Anyone visiting for the first time would undoubtedly find themselves dazzled by the vast collection.

It was clear that Sun Hewu had been here before. With a clear goal in mind, he headed straight for a particular bookshelf, used the jade token in his hand to disable the restriction on it, and retrieved a bookcase. After verifying its contents, he was overjoyed.

Nearby, there was even a record of past borrowings. Every name listed belonged to individuals of high status and power. Sun Hewu casually added his own name to the record before placing the book directly into his magical receptacle.

This was Qi Xuansu’s first time entering, so he felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of books. Then, a thought struck him. Sage Sun had come in to retrieve books, but why did I follow? Just to get a look at the collection?

With that thought, Qi Xuansu lifted his head and looked upward.

If things were as expected, a flood dragon was lurking upstairs, at the very least with a Pseudo-Immortal’s level of cultivation. If it were to escape while the Palace Master was absent, there might be no one in the entire Wanxiang Daoist Palace capable of handling it.

Qi Xuansu glanced sideways at Yao Pei from the corner of his eye.

Yao Pei was staring at the entrance of the staircase, where another Eight Trigrams seal glowed faintly.

Though Yao Pei’s face remained expressionless, her posture clearly suggested she was intrigued.

Qi Xuansu thought, Wait, that’s not right. After cultivating the Taishang Emotionless Sutra, she shouldn’t be troubled by curiosity. This meant Yao Pei had a motive for coming here. Given her extensive network of information, there’s no way she doesn’t know what’s sealed on the third floor.

At that moment, Yao Pei asked in a low voice, “Daoist Qi, do you want to go up to the third floor and take a look?”

Qi Xuansu shook his head immediately without a second thought. “No.”

Yao Pei raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, which were far less captivating than Zhang Yuelu’s. Her cold gaze was fixed on Qi Xuansu.

In that instant, Yao Pei no longer seemed like a dead fish. Her gaze remained calm, yet it was no longer lifeless. It resembled a tranquil lake.

Usually, Yao Pei appeared somewhat dull and detached, restricted by the various side effects of the Taishang Emotionless Sutra, as if perpetually caught between waking and dreaming.

But at this moment, she entered a fleeting state of clarity, akin to a longsword partially drawn from its sheath. Its sharp edge was exposed, reflecting an icy light.