Seeking Fortune and Avoiding Misfortune: Starting from the Celestial Master’s Mansion
Chapter 255: The Legend of the Sword

After dealing with Ye Zhenxing, Gao Xian, and Monk Jingxiang, Lei Jun raised his hand in the air.

The three Profound Gold Sword Pellets that had previously slain Ye Zhenxing automatically flew back to him from afar.

With his current cultivation level, refining the spiritual power of the Parent-Child Condensed Essence Pearl had allowed him to remotely control certain magical tools and treasures, just like a true Daoist artifact refiner. At the very least, simple actions were no challenge.

These Profound Gold Sword Pellets were crafted by Lei Jun using Profound Light Gold as the primary material. They were incredibly sturdy—capable of inflicting terrifying destruction upon impact while remaining completely intact and unwarped.

"Profound Light Gold is indeed an excellent material… it's just too scarce," Lei Jun mused as he recalled the three Sword Pellets, nodding in satisfaction.

Apart from still being slightly warm, the Sword Pellets were in perfect condition.

At that moment, Lei Jun shifted his attention back to the three-story pavilion from earlier.

The pavilion had already collapsed, brought down by his battle with Gao Xian and Ye Zhenxing.

Lei Jun had quickly identified the core of the military ritual at this location—an ancient sword on the second floor of the pavilion. Without hesitation, he had shattered it with a single palm strike.

With the ritual's foundation broken, the other ceremonial objects, while intricate, became fragile and easily destroyed.

As the pavilion collapsed into ruins, most of the remaining ritual artifacts were also severely damaged or lost.

The accumulated martial aura here had once been orderly and disciplined, resembling a well-trained army.

But with the ritual shattered, the energy, once centered around the fallen pavilion, scattered chaotically—like a routed army fleeing in all directions.

However, the destruction caused by the martial aura had already reduced the Gao Clan's ancestral land to an expanse of ruins.

Anyone near the pavilion was felled like harvested crops, leaving the core members completely wiped out.

The outer disciples, still on the periphery, were utterly bewildered. They had no idea what had just transpired—only that disaster had suddenly descended upon them.

Once a dominant force in Zezhou, the Gao Clan, if not entirely erased from history, would at the very least struggle to recover. Without external assistance, it was more likely to disband entirely, its members scattering like monkeys from a fallen tree.

Lei Jun, ever thorough, skillfully wielded the dark side of the Heavenly Book to further cleanse the area.

During the process, he made an unexpected discovery.

Beneath the collapsed three-story pavilion—the core of the military ritual—lay an enormous cache of peculiar stone formations. These resembled both metal and rock, possessing a deeply restrained yet immensely dense spiritual essence. Their composition was truly unique.

Sharpening Stone… Lei Jun immediately recognized it.

In fact, Tianshi Mansion of Mount Longhu also possessed some of this material, which Lei Jun had personally encountered before. He had even obtained a small amount when he destroyed the ancestral land of the Lin Clan in Jiangzhou.

However, all those previous findings were in negligible quantities—nothing compared to the sheer abundance here in the Gao Clan’s ancestral land.

Such a vast amount of Sharpening Stone was far beyond what the Gao Clan could have gathered on their own. It was undoubtedly the work of the Ye Clan of Jinzhou. Even then, it was questionable whether Jinzhou Ye Clan alone could have accumulated such a massive stockpile in a short period—it was likely that they had received support from other sources.

This Sharpening Stone must have been what the Upper-Moderate Omen had hinted at as a Fourth-Grade Opportunity… Lei Jun pondered.

This material was both rare and highly versatile, utilized across many traditions—Daoist talismanic arts, external alchemy, artifact forging, martial combat techniques, Confucian studies, and divine archery.

It was especially valuable to martial cultivators specializing in weaponized combat techniques, as it not only enhanced their weapon refinement but could also directly accelerate their cultivation progress.

For martial cultivators, the sheer quantity of Sharpening Stone here was likely worth far more than a mere Fourth-Grade Opportunity.

Sharpening—honing one's edge.

With this amount of Sharpening Stone, it was no wonder the military ritual in the Gao Clan’s ancestral land had been able to rapidly cultivate and train such an immense martial aura.

The military ritual here corresponded to Autumn’s Military Drills—one of the four seasonal military rites.

Under normal circumstances, such rituals would take considerable time to bear fruit.

If drawn out too long, they would risk exposure.

Ye Moquan had gone to great lengths to procure so much Sharpening Stone, allowing the Autumn’s Military Drills to take shape in a very short span.

After collecting the Sharpening Stone, Lei Jun did not linger. He left immediately.

Since the four seasonal military rituals were interconnected, the collapse of Zezhou’s Military Rites would be instantly noticed in Jinzhou.

Ye Moquan himself might be too preoccupied to react swiftly, but others would certainly take notice. Having already accomplished his objective of disrupting the ritual, Lei Jun had no interest in further entanglements. Maintaining his advantage in the shadows would make his next moves easier.

Before the remaining members of the Gao Clan could process what had happened, he had already distanced himself from their ancestral land, finding a secure and hidden location to stop and rest.

First, he reached out for updates from the outside world, gathering intelligence while also organizing his newly acquired Sharpening Stone.

After finishing his tasks, Lei Jun stretched out his hand and opened his palm, revealing a peculiar spiritual flower.

It had four petals, pure white in color, yet speckled with black, resembling an ink-splattered bloom.

This spiritual flower came from the slain Monk Jingxiang.

Such an unusual appearance immediately reminded Lei Jun of the Unborn Flower, a plant he had once read about in ancient texts.

The Unborn Flower was quite famous.

After all, it was tied to one of the Four Great Buddhist Holy Lands—Xuanyan Temple.

At one point, it was considered the bane of Xuanyan Temple disciples, drawing the attention of the entire cultivation world.

Of course, the flower wasn't actually capable of suppressing all Xuanyan Temple cultivators.

But many monks of the temple adhered to a strict vow of non-killing.

For years, various individuals had attempted to find loopholes to break their oaths but had consistently failed.

Xuanyan Temple’s methods had always been renowned for their defensive superiority—unshakable in their balance of rigidity and fluidity.

Until one day, someone discovered a loophole in Xuanyan Temple’s cultivation path—the Unborn Flower.

When it first surfaced, it caught many of Xuanyan Temple’s high monks off guard.

Fortunately, the flower was extremely difficult to propagate and was so rare that it frequently vanished entirely, leading many to believe it had gone extinct.

Yet today, it had resurfaced.

And it had been used for internal betrayal.

No wonder Monk Yongxiang’s vow was broken, leaving him riddled with arrows, dying in disbelief.

"Jingxiang carried two of these flowers while traveling in Zezhou. Has the Ye Clan of Jinzhou accumulated a stockpile of Unborn Flowers, or have they discovered a way to cultivate them?" Lei Jun speculated.

Xuanyan Temple was notoriously isolationist, and the Ye Clan of Jinzhou had always used diplomatic infiltration rather than direct conflict.

Yet, just like the Lin Clan of Jiangzhou and Mount Longhu in Xinzhou, the Ye Clan of Jinzhou and Xuanyan Temple were simply too close to each other.

If open conflict ever erupted, the Ye Clan had clearly prepared their methods to counter the temple’s monks.

Because of their cultivation heritage, Xuanyan Temple disciples were often unable to deal with others effectively—just as others struggled to deal with them.

But it seemed that the Ye Clan was unwilling to tolerate such a force in their backyard.

They might not act immediately, but they had clearly made preparations.

"Xuanyan Temple will likely make a move soon… Let's see how the Tang Imperial Court reacts," Lei Jun mused. "For now, Jinzhou is the priority."

The Ye Clan’s seasonal military rites were different from the norm.

Spring for troop deployment, summer for barracks establishment, autumn for military drills, and winter for grand review.

Normally, these rites were most effective in winter.

Ye Moquan had scheduled the duel for summer, which was not an issue in itself.

But setting up a winter military ritual in the height of summer was suspicious.

Lei Jun followed his train of thought, heading north—toward Jinzhou.

At this moment, the entire Ye Clan Ancestral Land of Jinzhou was fully activated. The vast aura of literary and cultural righteousness condensed into tangible form, manifesting as sharp weapons that clashed head-on with the "barbarians" above.

In terms of immediate victory or defeat, the "barbarians" still held the upper hand for now.

But they had only gained a temporary advantage.

After the initial burst, their momentum quickly faltered.

While the Ye Clan Ancestral Land of Jinzhou had suffered some losses, and even some ritual artifacts used to construct the defensive formations were damaged, its overall expansion was underway. It was reclaiming lost ground and regaining control over the skies above the ancestral land.

Observing from a distance, Fang Du, Chu Peng, and the others were most concerned with this crucial turning point for the Ye Clan of Jinzhou—a shift that could define an entire era.

They watched the battle unfolding above the ancestral land with unwavering focus, their expressions neither tense nor relaxed—just wholly absorbed in the moment.

As representatives of the Tang Imperial Court, Prince Changshan, Zhang Junhai, and Chu Yu, however, wore solemn expressions.

Time was short, and Ye Moquan’s response still had some shortcomings.

But this battle had already proven that his strategy was viable.

Though the Ye Clan Ancestral Land of Jinzhou had suffered heavy damage, it had at least avoided the fate of Jiangzhou and Youzhou, where their cultural lineage was severed, their ancestral lands reduced to ruins with no power to resist, and even their clan members dragged into the disaster.

For now, apart from some destruction, the Jinzhou Ancestral Land—by reversing the tide—was generating an impact vastly different from before.

For the lower and mid-level cultivators of the Ye Clan, suddenly facing this shift would likely be difficult to adapt to.

No wonder Ye Moquan had ordered the clan members to evacuate, leaving only himself in the ancestral land.

On one hand, he had other arrangements in place, with clan members scattered to carry out specific tasks. On the other, this prevented his kin from being dragged into the conflict.

“There are pros and cons. The sudden changes, without enough time to nurture and adapt, render many of Jinzhou’s usual methods ineffective,” said Elder Gao Dongyan of the Shushan Sect, frowning. “Not even leaving behind the Yi Xing Seal?”

The Yi Xing Seal was the Ye Clan of Jinzhou’s treasured heirloom, as significant to them as the Dragon Serpent Brush was to the Lin Clan of Jiangzhou or the Northern Wind Sword to the Lin Clan of Youzhou.

Ji Dongquan sighed. “Ye Moquan truly is getting old. Though he has maintained himself well and hasn’t regressed in cultivation, he’s no longer at his peak. And now, without the Yi Xing Seal…”

Gao Dongyan remarked, “No one knows themselves better than they do. If we can see it, he certainly does too. He must have a plan.”

Ji Dongquan nodded in agreement.

Yu Qiyue remained silent, her gaze sweeping across the battlefield.

The Ye Clan’s old patriarch, who had rarely left the ancestral land—let alone engaged in combat—now fought with practiced ease. His movements were fluid and unrestrained, wielding his power freely.

Streams of righteous energy intertwined with the spiritual energy emanating from the ancestral land, forming a lattice-like structure in midair that resembled both a web and a chessboard.

But as Chu Yu and the others observed closely, they noticed that the artistic conception behind it differed from the traditional Yi Xing Divine Art of the Ye Clan of Jinzhou.

In the past, when their upper-tier cultivators fought, they would arrange a chessboard across the heavens, transforming the battlefield into their own game, restricting their opponents while expanding their own influence.

Yet now, Ye Moquan’s approach was entirely different. Instead of a singular chessboard, fragmented chessboards emerged in various locations—here one, there another. The pieces were scattered, and even the virtual chessboards themselves were fragmented and spread throughout the battlefield, numerous and dispersed.

Rather than treating Yi Xing as a chessboard, it now resembled a vast nebula, expanding outward in all directions.

The "barbarians" were not achieving the same overwhelming effect as they had in Jiangzhou and Youzhou. On the pitch-black thunderclouds above, Xu Yuanzhen remained composed, even nodding slightly in acknowledgment.

Her gaze was cold yet piercingly bright, locked onto the clash between the barbarian forces and the righteous martial power of the Ye Clan’s ancestral land, deep in thought.

She paid little mind to Ye Moquan’s counterattack—until real chess pieces began to appear within the scattered nebula chessboards. Only then did she glance at them.

These chess pieces, seemingly carved from jade, were black and white, exuding a warm radiance as they hovered in midair, forming an actual chess game.

And these pieces were not mere constructs—they possessed innate spirituality, perfectly integrating with Ye Moquan’s nebula chess formation.

From afar, Tang Xiaotang, who had been watching the battle, suddenly narrowed her eyes, a faint golden hue flashing within her pupils.

“Heh!” She sneered. “So they’ve been preparing for us all along? This doesn’t look like something they just came up with recently.”

One nebula formation after another expanded.

Each was like a massive chess piece being placed upon an even larger board.

The formations moved freely, not sealing off the battlefield completely, yet still exerting a powerful influence over the flow of spiritual energy.

Most notably, it directly affected Daoist Talismanic cultivators’ ability to channel spiritual energy.

Similar to the Confucian Recitation lineage, the Tianshi Mansion of Mount Longhu followed a Daoist tradition where talismans connected with heaven and earth, commanding spirits and deities, borrowing the forces of nature to amplify their power. This was why talismanic spells wielded such great might.

However, Ye Moquan’s specially crafted chess pieces, formations, and movements did not completely sever this connection, but they constantly disrupted and interfered with the talismanic cultivators' spellcasting.

This approach deviated from the Ye Clan’s usual strategic, all-encompassing control, yet it was far from a complete blockade like a Confucian scholar’s Nation-Binding Formation. Instead, it allowed for greater adaptability, making it even harder for opponents to counter.

It was not a technique aimed at Xu Yuanzhen personally.

It was a strategy designed against the entire Daoist Talismanic Sect.

Just like how they had devised countermeasures against Xuanyan Temple.

In the past, the Ye Clan of Jinzhou had secretly aided the Li Family of Xunzhou in expanding their power on Mount Longhu, but at the same time, they had also prepared contingencies in case things spiraled out of control.

This chessboard strategy, which restricted talismanic cultivators from drawing upon heaven and earth’s power, had a name:

Zhen Shen Tou (God-Suppressing Formation).

As this technique began taking effect, Ye Moquan finally unsheathed the ritual sword at his waist.

His blade swung forth.

The Yi Xing Formation took shape—righteous energy surged forth like meteors, descending upon Xu Yuanzhen from all directions.

Xu Yuanzhen remained calm, looking at the God-Suppressing Formation before her.

A trace of mockery flickered across her face.

She stood unmoving, as an emerald-green sea of fire erupted around her.

A colossal Flame Tiger roared within the inferno, blazing meteors flying forth to clash against Ye Moquan’s righteous sword-stars.

Though the specially crafted black and white jade chess pieces shimmered with brilliance, maintaining the God-Suppressing Formation, they…

Had no effect on Xu Yuanzhen.

Instead, the surrounding heaven and earth’s energy gathered around her, completely under her control.

Not only was she unaffected—she even began contesting Ye Moquan and the Ye Clan for dominance over the spiritual energy in the battlefield.

Ye Moquan’s expression tightened as realization dawned upon him.

He recalled their prior battle in Youzhou and all the past encounters with her…

And at long last, he confirmed his long-held suspicion:

“…The Natural Law.”

When the Grand Military Review of Winter arrived, it was the peak of military presence, the moment to fully display one's strength.

But under Ye Moquan’s careful orchestration, everything now seemed to have reversed.

He was not simply countering the height of midsummer.

Instead, he was responding to the shifting tide within the Ye Clan’s ancestral land, which was currently moving against the flow.

The sheer abnormality of it all, when combined with the present circumstances, actually reinforced the momentum, amplifying its might!

A surging aura of warfare erupted, instantly sweeping away the lingering remnants of the so-called "barbarians" and taking on the form of a righteous army rising from despair. The counterattack was swift and sharp, brimming with an indomitable killing intent.

Even the destruction caused by the earlier invasion had become fuel for this moment, tempering an even fiercer force for retaliation!

…That was how it should have been.

Yet, just as the aura of warfare surged skyward, it suddenly showed signs of faltering, as if it lacked the strength to sustain itself.

Ye Moquan took a deep breath.

His gaze turned southward.

Something had happened in Zezhou!

The Jinzhou Ye Clan's branch, along with the affiliated noble families, was not limited to just the Gao Family of Zezhou.

Likewise, Ye Moquan’s orchestration of the Four Seasons Military Rites was never reliant on a single contingency. He had prepared multiple feints, with three true targets hidden among them—Xuanyan Temple, the Gao Family of Zezhou, and the ruins of Bodhi Temple.

Had someone already found the Gao Family of Zezhou this quickly?

And broken through them just as fast?

Was it luck?

Or had someone leaked information?

Tang Xiaotang was here—so who was on the opposing side in Zezhou?

Countless thoughts flashed through Ye Moquan’s mind, only to be swiftly cast aside.

None of those questions would help him now.

The Four Seasons Military Rites were designed to be seamlessly connected, forming a singular, cohesive whole. Once fully activated, their power would be immense—justifying the Ye Clan’s long and arduous preparations.

If successful, this would be the key move to dominate the battlefield.

As a Ninth Heaven Grand Scholar, Ye Moquan had drawn upon the spiritual veins of four regions, connecting the vast terrain across thousands of miles. Its power far surpassed the ritual formations once prepared by Lin Che and the others at Poyang Great Marsh. Even the grand ceremony held solely within the Ye Clan’s ancestral land could not compare.

This would be the most powerful Confucian ritual to manifest in recent years.

But now, with a crucial piece missing, it was as if a mighty dragon had been severed in half—rendering the formation incomplete.

Though the Ye Clan’s ancestral land was still brimming with the aura of war, it now lacked sustaining force. Its initial explosion was fierce, but it was nothing more than a transient flare.

After momentarily resisting Xu Yuanzhen’s black thunderclouds and the dark realm they conjured, the military aura began to fade and dissipate.

Ye Moquan could even sense that, aside from the Gao Family of Zezhou, the other two key locations—the Xuanyan Temple and the ruins of Bodhi Temple—were also beginning to show signs of failure.

"Even though I controlled the scope as much as possible, with so many people involved, it was inevitable that some mistakes would slip through," Ye Moquan muttered to himself.

The initial shock quickly faded, and his mind regained its composure.

Despite losing a major trump card, he did not alter his original plan. Instead of reversing the ancestral land’s prohibitive rituals to restore their original state, he continued shifting the seasonal flow—reversing the tides of Spring and Autumn—to command the surging literary essence upward, resisting Xu Yuanzhen’s Great Ascension Daoist Manifestation.

Both of them were Ninth Heaven cultivators, and in terms of minor realm progression, Ye Moquan was actually the stronger of the two. However, with age catching up to him, he was no longer at his peak, particularly in terms of endurance for prolonged battles.

But as long as he could rely on the power of the ancestral land, he had no concerns.

What truly caught the elder’s attention, however, was Xu Yuanzhen’s Great Ascension Daoist Manifestation.

In the pitch-black depths of that cosmic void, there were still places beyond his understanding.

At that moment, four of the great noble families’ core leaders—Fang Du of Jingxiang, Chu Peng of Suzhou, Lin Lishan of Youzhou, and Ye Zhi of Qingzhou—were all observing the battle between Ye Moquan and Xu Yuanzhen with intense focus.

Then, messengers from the Chu and Ye clans arrived from afar.

The mere presence of these younger disciples caused their spirits to tremble, blood surging within them.

Fortunately, Chu Peng and Ye Zhi promptly shielded them, ensuring their safety.

Receiving the messages delivered by their clan’s disciples, the two read them carefully.

Lin Lishan and Fang Du turned toward them. “Is it time?”

Chu Peng gave a slight nod. “The hour has come.”

Ye Zhi looked at Fang Du. “Brother Kuangze, His Majesty may issue an imperial decree for Jingxiang.”

Fang Du’s expression remained unperturbed. “As long as Shushan stands with us and moves north, there is no cause for concern.”

The four of them exchanged knowing glances and nodded in silent agreement, their gazes once again returning to the Ye Clan’s ancestral land in Jinzhou.

Meanwhile, on his way to Jinzhou, Lei Jun received a message from his sect.

The Tang Imperial Family had sent a specialist to the ruins of Bodhi Temple, where they had indeed uncovered the Winter Military Rites and promptly destroyed them.

Up north, however, the situation at Xuanyan Temple had spiraled into complete chaos.

This long-standing Buddhist sanctuary, known for its reclusive and quiet nature, had followed in the footsteps of Tianshi Mansion and Shushan—erupting into internal strife.

After hearing a general summary from his master, Yuan Mobai, Lei Jun shook his head slightly.

A portion of the monks at Xuanyan Temple—including Elder Kongjian—did indeed have ties to the Jinzhou Ye Clan or the Zezhou Gao Family.

But they were the minority.

First, the talent pool for those capable of practicing the Precepts Lineage of Buddhism was already limited.

Second, cultivating in the Precepts Lineage demanded extreme asceticism. Every vow had to be upheld without fail, or one’s cultivation would be completely ruined.

Only a rare few could persist in such training.

Among the Four Great Buddhist Holy Lands, Xuanyan Temple had always had the fewest successors for a reason.

This time, however, there were also monks who did not hail from noble families but still chose to stand with Elder Kongjian and his faction.

Xuanyan Temple had long upheld the doctrine of sowing good karma, accepting suffering, and dedicating oneself to diligent cultivation.

Over the years, this had naturally given rise to the belief that the present life was merely a bitter sea to be crossed in pursuit of salvation in the next.

This ideology had only continued to spread.

Strictly speaking, similar sentiments existed within Bodhi Temple, Tianlong Monastery, and Vajra Monastery. But at Xuanyan Temple, the proportion of such believers was particularly high.

If that were the case, then the joys and sorrows of this life no longer mattered.

Some completely detached themselves, believing that imperial rule and noble power had nothing to do with them.

Others, however, sought to preserve the status quo rather than disrupt it.

Only by maintaining stability could they attain eternal freedom and enlightenment.

This divergence in belief had deepened the schism.

For this reason, the Jinzhou Ye Clan had never resorted to extreme measures against Xuanyan Temple, despite attempting to infiltrate and suppress it.

If left undisturbed by external forces, the temple might have eventually fractured, but an outright civil war was unlikely.

But now, Elder Kongjian and his faction had made their move…

“Well, whatever happens, it’s not my concern.” Lei Jun shook his head.

With the Tang Imperial Family already intervening, and the Four Seasons Military Rites dismantled, all that remained was to check on his senior sister’s situation.

Lei Jun had just stepped into Jinzhou’s borders when he reached out to Tang Xiaotang.

“I’m at the critical moment—time to show my cards!” Tang Xiaotang’s tone was filled with excitement.

Hearing this, Lei Jun quickened his pace.

But just then, a sphere of light flickered in his mind, forming words:

"Storms rise across the world, the four directions entangled. Tribulations emerge and fall, fortune and misfortune intertwined."

Lei Jun slowed his steps.

From within the light sphere, four divinations emerged:

(1) Upper-Moderate Omen: Head northeast to Tianle Mountain—there lies an opportunity for a Third-Grade Opportunity. Challenges must be overcome, but proceed with caution, and all will be well. Fortune.

(2) Moderate Omen: Head southeast to Duanlong Gorge—there lies an opportunity for a Fifth-Grade Opportunity. Challenges must be overcome, but proceed with caution, and all will be well. Neutral.

(3) Lower-Moderate Omen: Head southwest to Jing Mountain Cliff—no gains, significant danger. Exercise extreme caution. Misfortune.

(4) Lower-Moderate Omen: Head northwest to Wuzhai Peak—no gains, significant danger. Exercise extreme caution. Misfortune.

Two bad omens…

Lei Jun raised an eyebrow.

With his current cultivation and resources, for two separate bad omens to appear simultaneously, the situation was far deeper than it seemed.

He had no intention of choosing either of those paths.

But some matters had to be addressed.

“Master.” Lei Jun contacted Yuan Mobai.

At the same time, he stepped into the True-One Altar Grotto-Heaven, born from the Tianshi Seal.

Within the three-tiered True-One Altar, shimmering with purple, gold, and blue light—

At its peak, the purple glow grew increasingly intense, accompanied by the rumbling of thunder.

From within, a sword inscribed with talismanic patterns slowly began to manifest.