In Order to Live as an Immortal, I changed a martial artist world to a xianxia world

Chapter 33: The Approach of a Land Immortal!

As Abbot Kongwen’s voice resonated across the plaza, the air grew heavy with tension.

All eyes turned toward Zhang Cuishan. The crowd’s objective was singular: discover Xie Xun’s whereabouts. Whether Zhang Cuishan truly knew the answer or not mattered little to them. What mattered was that he provided a satisfactory explanation—or faced their relentless demands.

“Wow, it’s about to turn into a brawl!”

A young man at the edge of the plaza whispered to his companion, an amused grin on his face.

“Quiet down! Don’t speak carelessly,” the second man snapped, his tone filled with exasperation.

This was Duan Tianya, the first-ranked secret agent of the Emperor’s Dragon Guard. He could scarcely understand how someone like Cheng Shifei, with his frivolous demeanour, had become the top agent of the Yellow Division.

[Duan Tianya can be poetically interpreted as “Heaven’s Horizon Duan” or “Duan at the Edge of the Sky,” evoking imagery of someone with lofty ambitions, boundless aspirations, or a destiny tied to the heavens.]

While Cheng Shifei was indeed a capable martial artist—a Heavenly Phenomenon Grandmaster at the initial stage—his unpredictable personality often left others exasperated.

[Cheng Shifei can be interpreted as “Cheng of Right and Wrong” or “Cheng Is and Is Not,” reflecting a philosophical or paradoxical nature.]

“Fine, fine,” Cheng Shifei mumbled, pouting as he fell silent.

Despite his current rank, his personality had yet to mature fully. He had been a street ruffian before his rise, and his old habits occasionally slipped through.

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Zhang Cuishan remained silent.

But before he could speak, Mo Shenggu, the seventh disciple of Wudang, stepped forward with an angry retort.

“My Fifth Brother has already stated that he doesn’t know! Why does Shaolin continue to push so aggressively?”

Earlier, at the Sword Depository Stone, Mo Shenggu had wanted to block Shaolin’s entry, sensing their ill intentions. For the sake of Wudang’s reputation, he had relented.

Now, watching Abbot Kongwen lead the charge against Zhang Cuishan, Mo Shenggu’s anger erupted.

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“Amitabha,” Abbot Kongwen intoned, shaking his head as he closed his eyes, unwilling to continue the confrontation.

“Hmm?”

“What’s happening now?”

“Did Kongwen… back down?”

The martial artists exchanged confused glances at the unexpected turn of events.

Suddenly, a powerful voice thundered across Mount Wudang.

“Master Zhang! An old friend has come to celebrate with you!”

The source of the voice revealed itself—a monk, clad in a simple robe, hovering mid-air above the mountain.

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An overwhelming aura radiated from the monk, Pu Zhi, blanketing Mount Wudang with palpable pressure.

[Pu Zhi can be interpreted as “Universal Wisdom” or “All-Encompassing Intellect”]

Even Heavenly Phenomenon Grandmasters among the martial artists felt the weight pressing upon them.

“A Land Immortal!”

“Could this be one of Shaolin’s hidden masters?”

“So, it’s true—Shaolin does have a Land Immortal!”

The crowd murmured as the realization dawned: Shaolin was no longer pretending to negotiate—they intended to act.

But a question lingered in their minds.

How could Shaolin, even with a Land Immortal, confidently challenge Wudang? After all, Zhang Sanfeng, a Land Immortal for decades, was widely acknowledged as unparalleled in his mastery.

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“Greetings, Grandmaster,” Kongwen and the Shaolin disciples intoned respectfully, bowing toward the monk in the air.

The monk, Pu Zhi, was a legendary figure over 150 years old—a hidden powerhouse of Shaolin.

For decades, his existence had remained a closely guarded secret, known only to Shaolin’s upper echelons and a select few among Jianghu’s elite.

Pu Zhi’s face bore a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed a hint of unease. Memories of his past clash with Zhang Sanfeng reminded him of the latter’s overwhelming strength.

He had initially refused to involve himself in Shaolin’s plans, fearing Zhang Sanfeng’s retaliation. But when Kongwen informed him that Wudang disciples had been searching for their master—indicating Zhang Sanfeng’s absence—Pu Zhi reconsidered.

If Zhang Sanfeng was truly absent, the opportunity to seize the Dragon-Slaying Saber was too great to pass up.

“So, Master Zhang,” Pu Zhi called out, his tone light but his words laden with challenge, “won’t you come out to greet an old friend?”

The silence that followed stretched on, the tension rising with every passing moment.

“I see,” Pu Zhi mused, his smile growing wider. “It seems the rumours are true—you’re not here.”

Turning his attention back to the crowd, he declared, “Since Master Zhang is unavailable, I won’t press the matter further. However, the villain Xie Xun cannot be allowed to roam free.”

With a feigned air of benevolence, Pu Zhi extended a hand toward Zhang Cuishan.

“Fifth Hero Zhang, since you know of Xie Xun’s whereabouts, please accompany me to Shaolin.”

Without waiting for a reply, Pu Zhi’s hand shot forward, his powerful energy enveloping the space around Zhang Cuishan.