Volume Two: The Map of the Nine Provinces Unfolds, Joining the Lingxu Sect Chapter 63: Settling in Taizhuo

On the lofty Tai Zhuo Peak, the mountains rose in myriad forms, their shapes both strange and imposing. The whole mountain, to Chen Yu’s immediate impression, seemed restrained, its grandeur hidden. Yet beneath the surface, he could sense a heavy, pressing force.

The very moment he set foot on this land, a dangerous intuition stirred within him, as if he had fallen onto the back of some colossal beast. He drew a deep breath, doing his best to steady himself.

When he glanced at the others, he saw that they were faring no better—perhaps even worse. Only Xiao Gu smiled, as if he had long expected such a reaction.

Xiao Gu did not hurry Chen Yu and the others. Instead, after stamping the words “Tai Zhuo Peak” onto the front of their jade tokens, he smiled and said, “There’s no need to be surprised. Every new menial disciple feels this way on their first visit to Tai Zhuo Peak. In time, you’ll grow accustomed to it.”

With that, he proceeded to assign each of them their tasks.

From Xiao Gu’s explanation, Chen Yu gathered the general idea—it was much as Xue Ren had described before. He was surprised to learn that Tai Zhuo Peak alone had over a thousand menial disciples. But then again, considering the peak’s vastness, even a thousand people scattered across it would seem sparse.

Chen Yu was assigned to tend a mu of spirit grass, ensuring its proper growth and reporting any abnormalities. The water, moreover, had to be fetched from a spring three li away, along treacherous mountain paths—a troublesome chore.

By his estimate, he would need to make at least twenty trips each day to fulfill his duties.

Soon, Xiao Gu led Chen Yu to the plot he would be responsible for, gave him a few reminders, and left.

Staring at this untidy patch of spirit fields, Chen Yu felt helpless. Not far from the field stood a thatched hut—his future dwelling.

He gave it a quick cleaning; it was clear no one had lived there in a long time.

According to Xiao Gu, menial disciples usually enjoyed considerable freedom. As long as they completed their quarterly tasks, the sect would not interfere much. After all, these disciples merely handled basic labor, which could not possibly shake Lingxu’s foundations. Still, Xiao Gu warned, failure to complete assigned work would bring punishment, even expulsion. Lingxu would not tolerate freeloaders.

Of course, whenever other tasks arose, menial disciples could be summoned at any time.

This time, Chen Yu received two sets of clothing and a few basic cloud-summoning and rain-bringing techniques to aid his work.

Though he had become a menial disciple of Lingxu, Chen Yu did not rush into his tasks. Instead, he first treated himself to a comfortable bath, changed into fresh clothes, and slept soundly through the night.

Since arriving in the Nine Provinces, he had not faced great danger, but his nerves had been perpetually tense. Now, with a real place to settle, he could finally relax.

Yet he had not come here to farm or seek a quiet life. He was here to pursue the Dao and immortality; Lingxu was merely his starting point.

Early the next morning, Chen Yu turned the soil of his assigned field. His physique was already at the Innate stage, his dantian holding the power of six breaths—such labor was hardly a challenge for him.

Before noon, he made his way to the menial disciples’ main hall at Tai Zhuo Peak to listen to a senior brother expound on cultivation.

Unfortunately, having just entered the path of cultivation himself, and with only a basic grasp of the Nine Breaths Breathing Art, much of the lecture was beyond his comprehension. He understood little, except for the cloud-summoning and rain-bringing techniques, which resonated with him. He had already practiced those new spells himself.

Returning to his field, Chen Yu recalled the senior’s words, combined them with his own insights, and soon achieved a clear understanding.

Eager to test it, Chen Yu fetched several buckets of water, filled a large vat, and with a single incantation, watched as the water leapt up, droplet by droplet, soared into the air, and fell like rain over the entire field, evenly drenching the soil.

Chen Yu could not help but laugh at himself, thinking this so-called cloud-summoning and rain-bringing art was rather overrated.

Over the next few days, he sowed his field with spirit seeds and, with diligent care, soon found himself with a bit of leisure.

Half a month passed, and though Chen Yu’s days were full, he felt unsatisfied. Such a tranquil life was not what he desired, nor could he afford to waste time.

The daily lectures at the menial disciples’ hall had long ceased to offer him much. So, he set his sights on the Library of Ten Thousand Books, hoping to find greater inspiration and a deeper understanding of cultivation.

His habits changed little in Lingxu, save that each day, after completing his chores, he would vanish into the library, greedily absorbing knowledge and experience.

From these books, he learned something of the vastness of the Nine Provinces and its great powers, though only in general terms.

Across the land, there were twenty-six top sects with legacies stretching back more than ten thousand years. Besides the Wuyai Sword Temple, Lingxu itself, and the Cui clan in Huang Province, there were Jiantian Pavilion, the Beitang clan, and Guiyi Hall in Tian Province; Wuling Mountain, the Dongguo clan, and Tianyuan Manor in Di Province; Jinlong Monastery, the Nangong clan, and Wuwei Hall in Xuan Province; the Grand Hong Imperial Dynasty, Tiandao Institute, and Suwen Palace in Yu Province; Biyou Sect, the Ximen clan, and Shenque Gate in Zhou Province; the Barbarian God Temple, Myriad Demon Hall, and the Bai clan in Hong Province; the Jiuli Tribe, Sacred Heart League, and Hidden Dragon Society in Huang Province; and finally, the Xuanqing Sect and Valley of Life and Death in Central Province.

It was said that the Nine Provinces were once a single continent, but in ancient times, four great chasms split it into nine regions. From then on, immortality became unattainable—even the mightiest could live no more than ten thousand years.

Yet the strong of the Nine Provinces never lost hope, for when the land was divided, a legendary artifact—the Map of the Nine Provinces—was said to have the power to break the current impasse and offer a chance to seek the Dao and attain immortality.

Sadly, in at least the last hundred thousand years, no one had truly succeeded. With the passing ages, the tale faded into legend, mentioned only on rare occasion.

After learning all this, Chen Yu could not help but furrow his brow. To seek the Dao and become immortal was his goal. If success was impossible, what was the point of cultivation? Whether one lived ten years or a hundred, all would return to dust in the end.

But his spirits soon recovered. For now, he was but an insignificant figure, and the road ahead was long and arduous—how could he give up so easily? Besides, was there not still the legend of the Map of the Nine Provinces?