Free Web NovelChapter 312: Chapter 41: True Yang Mountain
For the True Yang Sect, the Liangjiang Region and parts of central Zhongzhou were what Shang’an Prefecture was to Qianmu Temple—their own private domain.
From afar, True Yang Mountain looked like the spine of the earth, as if it propped up the heavens over Zhongzhou. Its highest peak was impossible to observe, as it was perennially shrouded in a thick, gray-black fog, similar to the summit of an active volcano.
The main body of the mountain range stretched all the way to the Northwest, so even from where Wang Ping stood in the Liangjiang Region, he could not see its end. The range itself was a fiery red expanse, constantly maintaining a high temperature. At the foot of the mountains, the Fire Candle Trees absorbed the majority of this heat from the ground.
The leaves of the Fire Candle Tree were fiery red, just like a maple’s. But while maple leaves only turned this color in autumn, the Fire Candle Trees remained so year-round. Furthermore, "Fire Candle Tree" didn’t refer to a single species, but rather to any tree suffused with Fire Spirit Qi. Their trunks bore flame-like patterns, and upon closer inspection, one could see faint halos of light flowing within the grain.
At the edge of the forest of Fire Candle Trees, there was a branch of the Nong River called the Chiyan River. It flowed south from the Shangjing Plain, circled True Yang Mountain, and then emptied into the Great Sea from the Liangjiang Region.
The Chiyan River earned its name from the crimson reflection of the Fire Candle Trees that colored its waters year-round; its original name was long forgotten and unimportant. Furthermore, the river was clearly artificial. Its channel was remarkably uniform, and its bed was lined with Water Element Arrays meant to prevent the Fire Spirit Qi of True Yang Mountain from seeping into the mortal world and disturbing its spiritual balance.
"Just looking at this mountain makes me feel uneasy."
Yu Lian hid in Wang Ping’s sleeve. Fear and revulsion filled her Spirit Sea, yet she couldn’t stop herself from tilting her head, observing True Yang Mountain with her tiny eyes.
Seeing Yu Lian’s reaction, Fire Swift stood proudly on Ruan Chunzi’s shoulder and spat out a puff of flame.
"Fellow Daoist, are you certain you won’t allow me to play the host?" Ruan Chunzi asked, extending a polite invitation.
"Thank you, but no. Definitely next time."
Wang Ping politely declined, cupping his hands. "I’m not accustomed to staying in fiery places for long." With that, he projected the identity token Ruan Chunzi had given him into the sky and transformed into a streak of light, flying further north.
A dozen breaths later, Wang Ping felt Ruan Chunzi’s gaze disappear. He cast the token’s projection a hundred li ahead of him, while he himself suddenly veered off, landing silently on a small path beside a nearby main road. He had changed into an ordinary blue Taoist robe, with a worn-out sword on his back and the water flask from his junior brother Wang Kang hanging at his waist.
As soon as his feet touched the ground, Wang Ping instinctively grabbed a handful of seeds and threw them into the wind. Then he headed for the main road. As he stepped onto it, he casually tossed two Copper Coins to perform a divination.
The Copper Coins landed in his hand. He glanced at the results of the divination, then looked up to see a swift horse galloping from the north. The rider was a constable, a wooden document case strapped to his back.
Wang Ping paid it no mind, simply keeping to the side of the road as he headed north. Before long, he saw a figure emerge from a towering structure at the end of the main road and soar into the sky, chasing the identity projection he had cast out earlier.
"If you were planning to walk, why did you even ask for an identity token?" Yu Lian, hiding obediently in his sleeve, asked Wang Ping through his Spirit Sea.
"It was a transaction. Besides, he’s the one who offered it to me."
As the constable galloped past, Wang Ping made a Taoist hand gesture and then quickened his pace northward, scattering a few seeds every hundred zhang.
After walking for about twenty li, he saw a teahouse. Atop a five-zhang-tall flagpole out front, a red banner with a white word fluttered. The word, of course, was ’Tea’. Here, it wasn’t just the banner that was red; the teahouse’s main structure and even the chairs were red.
There were two reasons for this. First, this was the True Yang Sect’s territory, where the color red was revered. Second, the Fire Candle Trees themselves were red. Because they grew in great abundance, nourished by Spiritual Qi, the True Yang Sect encouraged the locals along the road to harvest them freely. On top of that, the bark of the Fire Candle Tree could be used to make an exceptionally cheap red dye.
As he drew closer, Wang Ping confirmed that the teahouse’s chairs and benches were indeed naturally red, not coated with red lacquer.
However, Fire Candle Tree wood was exceptionally brittle. The teahouse was likely using it to save on costs, nothing more. Proper dwellings would still require a good coat of lacquer.
"Right this way, Daoist!"
Seeing Wang Ping’s attire, the attendant greeted him enthusiastically and led him to an unoccupied table. Once seated, Wang Ping ordered, "A pot of tea, light on the salt, and two flatbreads."
"Coming right up!"
The attendant nodded, bowing as he took the order, then hurried back inside the teahouse.
Only then did Wang Ping take a look around. The teahouse was already quite full. Two of the patrons were Cultivators like himself, while the others were clearly traveling merchants. The merchants had no tea on their tables, only dry flatbreads, and they drank from their own waterskins.
As they ate, the merchants observed the traveler’s code, not exchanging a single idle word, their eyes constantly fixed on their convoy of carts nearby. The two Cultivators, on the other hand, were speaking in hushed tones. They were discussing trying their luck on Mozhou Road, as they had both reached the peak of the Qi Cultivation realm but lacked a Marrow-Cleansing Cultivation Technique.
’Watching them, Wang Ping felt a surge of gratitude for his own good fortune. He was so lucky to have met his master.’
Just as the attendant brought Wang Ping his tea, the leader of the merchant caravan paid for their flatbreads. He counted his men as they filed out of the teahouse, then they began methodically wheeling out the cargo they had stored in a corner.
The taste of the tea filled Wang Ping with a pleasant nostalgia. ’After so many years of cultivation, I’d almost forgotten what this worldly tea tastes like.’ The slight saltiness, the full body of the tea, and the hint of spice were genuinely invigorating. Paired with a bite of flatbread, it instantly took him back to his very first journey.
After finishing one flatbread, Wang Ping waited for the attendant to finish cleaning the merchants’ tables before asking, "Friend, where does this road lead up ahead?"
"North takes you to Liuxia County, and south to Tu County." The attendant answered smoothly, as if he’d been asked this question many times before.
"And this road can take you to the Shangjing Region?" Wang Ping asked.
"It’ll take you to Dalinfu City, the capital of Qianjiang Road. Once you’re there, you can just ask around to find out how to get to the Shangjing Region." The attendant’s reply was just as practiced. As he finished speaking, the two Cultivators who had been deliberating for some time paid their bill, left the teahouse, and hurried south down the main road.
Wang Ping was currently in the Houjiang Road region. ’If this were Nanlin Road,’ he thought, ’it would be impossible to have a straight road leading directly to the capital of another region. But here, they could.’
Wang Ping took out his water flask and handed it to the attendant. "Fill this with tea for me."
"Right away."
「A quarter of an hour later.」
The teahouse welcomed new patrons. As the new arrivals sized him up, Wang Ping walked out of the teahouse and continued north along the road.
