Chaotic World Book
Chapter 349 - 342 Kunlun Yuxu

Chapter 349: Chapter 342 Kunlun Yuxu

Zhao Changhe did not even want to go anymore at that moment, as there were a plethora of matters at hand.

Seeing the Yuxu Sage was solely for probing clues about the Heavenly Book, yet he did not even know how to start probing. He couldn’t just ask, "Hey, do you have the Heavenly Book?" could he? That could stir up trouble and get him killed when there was none initially.

Moreover, the Heavenly Book was desired by a blind man, and although he was also interested, his interest was not that intense. With his current level, was he supposed to compete with the fourth on the Heavenly List for the Heavenly Book? He might as well jump off a cliff.

But since he had requested the meeting, and the other party agreed to meet, it would be inappropriate to stand him up.

Zhao Changhe packed up his sword embryo and books, and began his ascent into the mountains.

Kunlun City was nestled against the mountain. If one entered from the west, it would lead to Yuxu Peak.

All the things he had done on various mountain tops were merely on the peripheral ridges. The true Yuxu Peak was not open for just anyone to enter. According to what Yang Qianyuan had said earlier, Yuxu only admitted identified malign individuals, while those who were unidentified or were simply too lazy to enter the mountain preferring the convenience of the city, would settle in the city.

Would this Yuxu sage, who harbored a massive evil force, really be that forester living in a vast world within a pot? Zhao Changhe was unsure.

The only way into the mountain was a dangerous path, formed alongside the stream that many people had walked on.

On both sides, the snow was pure and thick, even covering the perilous path without any hint of being cleared, showing that no one had trodden this mountain for quite some time. Yet, the stream was clear and flowed silently without freezing.

There were no guards either, and it was all so vast and silent as he walked for a long time.

There was no need for guards; the presence of the fourth on the Heavenly List was deterrent enough. When he says no one is allowed, no one dares to enter.

Zhao Changhe looked up at the clouds swirling around the peak that was obscured from view, and as he walked slowly upward, his cluttered thoughts gradually drifted away, and his mood became clearer, his steps more leisurely.

What was the rush? Thinking too much was meaningless.

Why not slow down and enjoy the snow of Kunlun, the clouds of Yuxu.

Otherwise, when he went back and saw Wanzhuang, she would ask, "You reached Kunlun, but do you know what Kunlun looks like?"

At that time, he would be speechless, unable to answer even one question.

The song of the forester from that day faintly echoed in his mind, "Cloud Mountain, separating the shores of the mortal world; roaming the sights, the world within the pot is vast."

The meeting point of Heavenly Spirit was slightly cool, the Qi between the outside world and inside circulated back and forth, transforming into warm energy within his body, dispersing amidst the snow and wind. The circulation that should occur in the Ninth Layer of the Mystical Gate, the conversion of True Qi qualities from acquired to congenital, was still growing in the process of cultivation, having not been properly experienced before.

A slight throbbing emanated from the third eye located at his forehead, a fleeting understanding unclear and indescribable was about to surge forth, but when he tried to grasp it closely, there was nothing.

So this was what it meant by the final stretch... Always close to sensing the existence of the next Realm.

Indeed, the path of a Grandmaster was a path of seeking—the accumulation and mastery of mental states and techniques, recognizing and understanding Martial Arts, a process of holistic elevation and transformation of quality.

He indeed lacked just that final step.

Unknowingly, his leisurely ascension had taken four to five hours, from noon until sunset, scaling very high, yet the real peak seemed yet unseen. The ethereal celestial mist and clouds already seemed to encircle him; looking back, the haze was dense, akin to a fairyland.

At some point, faint sounds of chopping wood came from ahead, initially very distant, gradually getting closer.

Steady and rhythmic, one chop at a time.

Zhao Changhe slowly walked, feeling his steps unconsciously syncing with the chopping rhythm and then noticed each chop was perfectly spaced.

Continuous chopping by the hour, yet each interval was precise, down to what seemed like milliseconds, as accurate as a machine.

The mist gradually cleared, revealing several wooden houses in the distance, the snow melting into a stream that wound its way past the houses and flowed down the mountain.

Zhao Changhe gazed toward the wooden houses through the swirling mist and fog, almost feeling as though these houses were not built by humans but were entities that had coexisted with Kunlun since the beginning of heaven and earth.

Of course, it was a delusion... These were indeed built by people, but the builders had long achieved unity with heaven and nature, having reached the pinnacle of natural dao.

Zhao Changhe’s gaze finally fell on a large courtyard in the center of the wooden houses, where a pile of firewood was seemingly placed haphazardly on one side. An elderly forester leisurely reached for a thick log, split it exactly in half with a swing, and nonchalantly tossed it aside, continuing for the next one.

He simply watched quietly, not disturbing the scene.

From beginning to end, the woodcutter’s every movement seemed like a mechanical repetition of the last, yet it did not feel rigid like a robot’s; each of his chops merged with the wind and snow, as if the air naturally flowed and swung the axe. The knife was the wind, the snow was the knife, instead of feeling robotic, it was a natural and harmonious beauty.

But the direction of the wind and snow was clearly not where he swung his knife, which made it hard to understand how he achieved that.

Was it not the knife merging with the wind and snow, but rather the knife leading the wind and snow?

Yet the wind and snow did not change.

Zhao Changhe sighed deeply and closed his eyes, replaying the movements he had just seen in his mind, only to feel a wave of dizziness.

His realm was not enough, he couldn’t understand... there was quite a gap.

With a snap, the woodcutter split the last log and casually threw it aside.

The split logs stacked neatly on top of each other in a perfect square shape, as if measured, with identical length, width, and height.

Zhao Changhe didn’t need to measure to know there wouldn’t be a discrepancy; this old fellow seemed to be showing off to him... well, perhaps he was giving a demonstration? But the gap was really too wide; the demonstration was useless, yet the showing off was quite effective.

He finally sighed, "Old man, I’ve come to have a drink with you."

The old woodcutter stood up and entered the house, laughing, "The wind and snow have picked up late, come in and drink."

Zhao Changhe followed him into the nearby house, which was warm with a fire burning under the stove, heating a large jar of wine. The woodcutter, seemingly oblivious to the heat, grabbed the jar and thumped it on the table, his expression stern, "You picked an untimely moment. It was supposed to be ’the skies are about to snow, one can drink a cup freely’, but with your arrival, it’s already snowing. The poem doesn’t fit, which is rather frustrating."

Zhao Changhe’s lips twitched with a strange expression.

You’re the fourth ranked in the world.

These wooden houses are Yuxu Palace.

The woodcutter took two large bowls and poured the wine while saying, "Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be the one treating me to a drink? How did it end up the other way around..."

Zhao Changhe said, "Why should I be the one treating? I am, after all, a guest..."

"Could you have dealt with Kun Gang’s Fire without my reminding you of your Heart Fire?"

"Uh..." Zhao Changhe said, "I should thank you, senior. Are you suggesting I carry a wine jar up the mountain?"

"Can’t you?"

Zhao Changhe thought for a moment, "It seems possible, I’ll definitely do it next time."

In their brief conversation, the two bowls were just filled. The woodcutter put down the jar and clinked bowls with him, "It’s been a long time since anyone has joined this old man for a few drinks... good timing."

Zhao Changhe said, "Won’t Thief Saint come?"

"He doesn’t like to come... because every time he does, you can see him suppressing a cramp in his fingers, always wanting to steal something from me. Unfortunately, I only have these three wooden rooms and nothing else. He can’t stand it."

Zhao Changhe couldn’t help asking, "It’s said there are many villains in the mountain, is Yuxu Palace an organization of villains, and why is it only you here, old man?"

"If it was really so, would you dare to come for a drink?"

"Why wouldn’t I dare, I, Zhao Changhe, am not exactly a saint myself."

"Ha..." the old woodcutter said indifferently, "The villains who enter the mountain, of course, all end up dead... I can’t just casually let people come in to die, right?"

Zhao Changhe: "..."

So, the supposed haven for villains is actually a trap where villains come to die?

"Drink," the old woodcutter heartily finished the wine in his bowl and wiped his mouth, "Don’t inquire about what I’m doing here. Asking too much won’t do you any good... a young man who sees the cold from the snow and is willing to offer an old woodcutter a coat, I am happy to treat him to a drink, nothing more. From where you come, where you go, your path to becoming a Grandmaster, is not here."