Chapter Seven: A Dream in the Realm of Spirits, Seeking Lu Ya 1

Stepping on auspicious clouds like a dream, his eyes blurred between illusion and reality, unable to distinguish the true from the false.

When Hao Dan regained consciousness, he found himself standing in a vast, dark green wilderness, a mountain plain stretching before him. Not far from the grassland, a colossal peak shrouded in mist and clouds rose imposingly.

"Where is this? Why am I here? Strange..." Hao Dan was confused, a peculiar sensation enveloping him, as if caught between waking and dreaming. Nothing in these wilds felt familiar; the sky was a brilliant blue, brighter than usual, and even the clouds appeared different—what was happening?

The clouds above seemed somehow unreal, giving an intense sense of illusion. Hao Dan distinctly remembered being in the woods just outside the city; he had entered the thatched hut, then inexplicably lost consciousness, only now awakening.

Ahead, a faint movement flickered by, followed by a snowy white apparition vanishing in an instant—its swiftness astonishing.

"Who? Who's there?"

Hao Dan’s sharp hearing and keen eyes instinctively caught the direction of the figure, and he sprang forward in pursuit. The shadow moved like lightning, and the two figures sped through the lush wilderness, one chasing the other. As Hao Dan followed, a delicate fragrance lingered in the air, alerting him that this was no ordinary human; though doubt gnawed at him, he pressed on, urging his phantom step technique and accelerating with a few flashes.

He drew closer; it seemed the figure deliberately slowed, making it obvious. Hao Dan couldn’t help but chuckle to himself—since fate had brought them together, he was determined to see who this mysterious being was.

Such was Hao Dan’s confidence! Only someone so bold could behave so audaciously in an unknown land...

The ground was covered with fragrant wild grass, reaching over four feet high, past Hao Dan’s waist. He paid little attention to it, focused solely on the figure ahead. Were it not for the thick grass impeding him, he might have caught up already. Just a few miles ahead stood the towering mountain, soaring into the clouds, majestic and straight like a giant blade splitting the heavens.

At the foot of the mountain lay a patch of dark green forest, into which the figure disappeared. Following its scent, Hao Dan entered the woodland. The dense woods exuded waves of fragrance, intensifying deeper within.

‘Rustle... rustle...’ The sounds of movement echoed through the thicket...

"Stop right there, you brat!" Suddenly, a clear and melodious voice rang out, startling Hao Dan.

He halted abruptly, listening intently for the source. Years of training with the Celestial Abode sect had made him cautious and alert, especially in such a strange place. Outwardly fearless, he was inwardly wary, for this scene and his pursuit had convinced him that this was not the world of reality, but a realm of wonders.

"What sort of demon lurks here, hiding in the shadows? I know you bear no ill will, but your flight made me chase you tirelessly! Now that you've spoken, why not show yourself?" Hao Dan called out with a laugh, arms crossed, knowing that venturing further might lead him into unknown traps, so he decided to probe with words.

His attempt was like tossing a stone into a well, waiting for an echo.

...There was none; it was as if the stone sank without a trace.

For a moment, no one answered. Hao Dan was puzzled—what game was this? He scanned the surroundings: nothing but dark green woodland, the air heavy with ominous mist, sinister and gloomy. He mused that while the clouds above were serene, the forest below was unnervingly eerie. Who would dare enter such a place? Even a supreme immortal would cautiously investigate before stepping in. Hao Dan lingered at the edge, examining the woodland encircling the mountain’s base. Oddly, there were no paths—unlike any mountain forest, where trails are usually worn by travelers. Here, not even a trace of animal droppings could be found.

Perplexed, he recalled the figure’s harsh words earlier; what was its purpose in leading him here? He sensed it meant no harm, yet the encounter felt strange. He touched his chest, feeling something warm, and discovered a silver dagger. Recollecting, he slapped his forehead—wasn’t this the knife he had pulled from a stump in the mulberry woods outside the city? Now the blade seemed to respond, its surface heating up, faintly revealing the characters “Immortal-Slaying Flying Blade,” growing hotter in his grasp.

‘Rustle...’ Another sound came from nearby.

"Who? Who’s there?" This time, Hao Dan was more cautious, his handsome face tense and a hint of fierceness in his brows.

A spotless white figure appeared beneath the forest, right where Hao Dan had stood—a child in a flowing white Daoist robe, sleeves long and wide. Her appearance was delicate, and she frowned as she spoke in a clear voice, "I went to report to my master; someone has trespassed here!"

Hao Dan was stunned, and before he could react, the young Daoist continued reluctantly, "Fortunately, my master sent word that you are a fated visitor. Otherwise, I would have accidentally killed you! Come now, you may follow me to meet my master." She stepped closer, allowing Hao Dan to see her clearly—a young Daoist girl in white, with refined features and a delicate, melodic voice.

"I am a fated visitor?" Hao Dan echoed, pointing to his nose in confusion. "What is this place? Why does it feel so strange, so unreal?"

The young Daoist didn’t answer, instead fixing her gaze on the silver blade in Hao Dan’s hand, saying sternly, "Put away the Immortal-Slaying Flying Blade. It is my master’s supreme treasure. It recognizes its master and has sensed his presence, which is why it’s glowing and heating up."

Hao Dan, realizing the knife was a magical artifact, his eyes gleamed. He carefully tucked it away, patting his chest protectively. "Ah! All right, haha! So this little thing is a treasure—no wonder I felt it was extraordinary. Seems my intuition was right!"

"Immortal-Slaying Flying Blade, what an impressive name... Majestic!" He caressed his chest, savoring the moment. Hao Dan, ever clever, suspected he might have finally encountered a legendary living immortal. The young Daoist felt unusual, with a hint of celestial aura unlike the Celestial Abode sect—only Nan Tongzi possessed such ethereal presence.

"Foolish child!" The young Daoist rolled her eyes skyward, exasperated by Hao Dan's smugness.

"What did you just say?" Hao Dan’s keen ears caught her words.

"This place is a small world between dream and reality, named the Phantom Spirit Realm." She kept her distance, answering offhandedly, her delicate face still rolling her eyes.

Seeing her expression, Hao Dan felt his mind fill with exclamation marks. Phantom Spirit Realm? Why had he never heard of it? He had some knowledge of ancient legends, but such wonders were new to him—could such mysteries truly exist in the world?

The young Daoist wondered if this brat was mentally deficient. Moments ago, he was full of bravado, and now just a few exchanges later, he was giggling and restless!

She muttered inwardly, "He must be a fool."

"Follow me; you must meet my master," she said impatiently, turning to leave.

The brat seemed lost in confusion.

"Uh—wait for me! Hey, slow down, little Daoist!" Hao Dan looked up; she was already far ahead, nearly out of sight.

As he used his phantom step to catch up, the mist in the woods thickened. Following her into the fog, he discovered there was indeed a path—a sudden feeling of unexpected clarity. The road was paved with white jade and green stone, winding beneath the mountain, with a white jade stairway spiraling up to the mid-slope.

"Are we climbing to the summit together?"

Hao Dan caught up at the steps, asking in astonishment.

"This mountain is called Spirit Peak, the sixth sacred mountain, absent from the mortal realm, and the holy mountain of the Phantom Spirit Realm. To reach the summit, you must ascend step by step—no flying swords, no flight, no aid of any kind. To fly up is a grave disrespect to the holy mountain."

The young Daoist lowered her clear voice as she spoke.

"Spirit Peak? Sixth sacred mountain? Our mortal realm has three mountains and five great peaks, but this is the sixth! Well, all right."

Hao Dan didn’t dwell on it; though puzzled, he chose not to ask further, feeling a touch of carefree ease. As a newcomer, he seemed to have forgotten his earlier caution.

"Boy, I advise you to be steady and patient. The climb is long, and I have never seen a second person reach the top by sheer determination and step by step."

The young Daoist turned her head, her demeanor oddly mature.

"Second person?" Hao Dan perked up—if there was a first, did that make him the second?

"Who was the first to come here?"