Seeking Fortune and Avoiding Misfortune: Starting from the Celestial Master’s Mansion
Chapter 407: A single move affects the entire body

Although a Talisman Decree had been granted to the Shushan Sect of the Ming Dynasty, acknowledging them as the current head of the Daoist tradition, Lei Jun had no intention of making decisions on their behalf.

So after passing the relevant information to the Ming Shushan Sect, he refrained from further comment.

When the Xiaoding branch of the Shushan Sect of the Tang Dynasty learned of the situation, they treated it with great seriousness.

Lei Jun had previously discussed the rough situation of the Ming Shushan Sect with Zhang Taigang, Ji Chuan, and others, after hearing about it from Xu Yuanzhen.

Back then, Zhang Taigang and the others, seeing that the Tang Shushan Sect was in a period of recuperation, had chosen to adopt a passive approach toward their Ming counterparts.

But with the latest news, and following internal consultation, the Tang Shushan Sect dispatched a High-Ranking Elder.

Putting everything else aside, the Qiankun Sun-Moon Gourd was one of the Six Founding Treasures of the Shushan Sect, carrying a meaning distinct from other artifacts. The Tang Shushan lineage had always kept a close eye on it.

If it were still in the hands of a successor from the Ming Shushan Sect, that would be one thing. But now that it had been seized by the Ming court, disciples like Zhang Taigang could hardly remain indifferent.

In the end, Ji Dongquan, Ji Chuan's father and a newly advanced cultivator of the Eighth Heaven, came out of seclusion and traveled to the Tianshi Mansion of Mount Longhu to meet with Tianshi Lei Jun.

Though already over three hundred years old and not as naturally gifted as his son Ji Chuan, Ji Dongquan had spent years accumulating power. With the recent surge of Heaven and Earth Spiritual Energy, he broke through the Heavenly Chasm Tribulation between the Seventh and Eighth Heaven, reaching the realm of Daoist Artifact Refining Sect’s Eighth-Heaven Celestial Roaming Stage.

The Tang Shushan Sect, after years of recovery, had finally gained another Eighth-Heaven cultivator.

After receiving Lei Jun’s latest and detailed account, Ji Dongquan contacted the Xiaoding headquarters again and proceeded east toward the overseas territories.

Upon reaching Guizang, he met with Xiao Xueting, who had taken over for Zhang Hui.

Through Xiao Xueting’s arrangements, Ji Dongquan secretly used the Void Gateway left by Zhang Hui and Meng Shaojie to enter the Ming Mortal Realm.

There, he was received by Chu Kun and Xiao Chunhui.

“The one who came from the Ming Shushan Sect is named Li Miaozhen, a standout of the younger generation,” Chu Kun reported privately to Lei Jun. “The person she represents has been confirmed as the new sect master of the Ming Shushan Sect: Yuan Qingci.”

Lei Jun said, “So that’s how it is.”

Yuan Qingci and Han Qingtao were fellow disciples. Though Yuan had entered the sect slightly earlier, his cultivation was below Han’s. He had long been at the Perfection Stage of the Eighth-Heaven Celestial Roaming Realm.

Nonetheless, both inside and outside the Ming imperial court, even Xiao Chunhui held him in high regard.

It was said that Yuan Qingci had achieved Perfection in the Eighth-Heaven Celestial Roaming Realm of the Daoist Artifact Refining Sect long ago.

Whether it was his own inability to make that final leap or due to the overall environment of the Ming cultivation world, no one could say for sure.

In the Ming Dynasty, whether in Zhenwu Monastery, the Shushan Sect, or the Bodhi Monastery—each only had one Ninth-Heaven cultivator.

Compared to the earlier periods of the Tang and Han Daoist realms, this was already an improvement.

However, the Tang and Han realms had only experienced their Spiritual Energy Revival in the last hundred years.

Whereas the Ming realm had enjoyed several centuries of surging spiritual energy, with many Ninth-Heaven Grand Confucian Scholars from the Neo-Confucianist tradition.

So the current situation in the Zhenwu Monastery, Bodhi Monastery, and Shushan Sect of the Ming realm wasn’t necessarily due to a lack of talent.

Within the Ming Shushan Sect, if a Ninth-Heaven Daoist Sage were to emerge, the imperial-born Han Qingtao would clearly have had the edge over Yuan Qingci.

But the Ming court had misjudged her.

Han Qingtao became a rebel, leading her people from the Mortal Daoist Nation to break away from the Xiaoding headquarters.

With Han gone, Yuan Qingci—now the de facto sect leader—did not fare much better.

Countless eyes were watching him and the remaining Ming Shushan disciples.

It was no exaggeration to say the sect was hanging by a thread, always on the brink of catastrophe.

Only because the Ming court had now begun mobilizing troops to northern expeditions and Buddhist campaigns in the Western Region did Yuan Qingci and the sect finally get a moment to breathe.

“As of now, it's unclear whether this new sect master of the Ming Shushan Sect still has the strength to reach the Ninth Heaven,” said Chu Kun. “He’s been held back for too long.”

“Even if he’s confident enough, I doubt he dares act rashly. There are still too many eyes watching him.”

Lei Jun said, “While it was Yuan Qingci who initiated contact with the Tang side, with things so unstable in the Ming Shushan Sect, I imagine he’s still far from being able to fully control the entire sect.”

Chu Kun nodded. “That’s what Sect Master said, and I feel the same.”

Lei Jun said, “Elder Ji has gone. Leave the decisions to your Shushan Sect peers. Just focus on your own mission—don’t let it be disrupted.”

Chu Kun replied, “Don’t worry, Senior Brother. I know what I’m doing and will act cautiously. Everything’s been going well so far, but it may take longer than expected. I might fall short in my duties back at the Mansion, and I’ll need to trouble you for a little cover.”

Lei Jun didn’t ask what Chu Kun was working on. He simply said, “I’ll assign someone to help.”

But Chu Kun continued, “By chance, I came across a special terrain in the Ming realm that might allow me to nurture a rare treasure called Supreme Azure Crystal. I hope to produce several.”

“Supreme Azure Crystal—now that’s something special,” said Lei Jun.

That treasure had vanished from the Tang realm for many years.

The last recorded appearance was over two thousand years ago, when a Tang Shushan elder used it in cultivation.

The crystal was incredibly spiritually potent and mysterious, suitable even for Ninth-Heaven Daoist Sages, but extremely rare. Even back then, only one was known to exist.

Now, hearing Chu Kun’s tone, he seemed confident he could produce more.

“To quote what Senior Brother always says—better safe than sorry,” Lei Jun said.

Chu Kun wholeheartedly agreed. “Exactly.”

---

Ming Mortal Realm.

Capital City.

Residence of Vice Grand Secretary Zhou Mingzhe.

Zhou Mingzhe, well-maintained and youthful-looking like a man in his forties, had only faint silver at his temples.

Vice Minister of Rites Xi Zhichang, his prized student, sat beside him with a concerned look.

“Master, your decision to personally oversee the western front may be bold, but isn’t it a bit reckless?”

Zhou Mingzhe smiled. “A gentleman keeps his word. Since I’ve agreed to assist the Grand Secretary, he can now go forth with no doubts.”

“Marching north against the tribes and west against Sumeru, aligns perfectly with the Emperor’s will. And the Qin Party is right under the Grand Secretary’s nose.”

Xi Zhichang asked softly, “Do you believe this war can be won?”

Zhou Mingzhe replied calmly, “The Heavenly Principle, Southern Wasteland, and Eastern Sea Ruins are all quiet for now. The Five Vajra Divisions of Sumeru are down at least two. Even with a few unexpected developments, we can handle it.”

Xi Zhichang was silent.

Zhou Mingzhe glanced at his student and asked quietly, “Worried about the Grand Secretary achieving too much and becoming unstoppable?”

Grand Secretary Chen Yu represented more than himself. He led the Wu Party.

Likewise, Zhou Mingzhe wasn’t just a man—he was the head of the Chu Party, and the second-ranking official in the imperial cabinet.

Xi Zhichang remained composed. “It’s a national war. I have no objection. I was merely considering whether we should personally head west as well.”

Zhou said steadily, “Patience.”

“Yes, teacher. I spoke out of turn.”

Zhou Mingzhe looked up toward the ceiling, silent for a moment before saying, “It’s been too long since a Confucian Scholar rose beyond the clouds and became a Sage remembered through the ages.”

Xi Zhichang understood his teacher’s unspoken meaning.

“Scholar” here didn’t refer to all Confucian cultivators broadly.

Though it was true that no Confucian from any tradition had reached immortality since the disaster at the end of the Han, Zhou meant specifically those of the Neo-Confucianist school.

Neo-Confucianism had overtaken Classical Studies to become the leading Confucian doctrine—and even the foremost intellectual force of the Ming dynasty.

From Chen Yu, Chao Feng, and Gao Ming, to Zhou Mingzhe, Xi Zhichang, and even the Qin Party’s Liu Chong, they all upheld Neo-Confucian ethics as sacred law.

But since its rise in the Liang Dynasty, through the Qian Dynasty and into the current Ming Dynasty, Neo-Confucianism had produced no Ninth-Heaven Sages.

Even with centuries of Spiritual Energy revival, that milestone had never been reached.

And Neo-Confucianism was still a young tradition—not yet two thousand years old.

Zhou, Chen, and others all continued to study, refine, and experiment—pushing the limits of their doctrine.

Chen Yu’s northern campaign wasn’t just his ambition—it was also an experiment in the Dao.

Whether in public or private, as the highest-ranking official and Wu Party leader, he couldn’t allow sabotage.

And Zhou Mingzhe had no intention of undermining him. In fact, he would lend a hand.

In return, Chen Yu offered him a price worth accepting.

And Zhou was also keen to see how Chen’s gamble played out.

If Chen succeeded, future complications were inevitable—and grave.

But if he failed, Zhou would stand to gain.

“Prepare to enter the cabinet,” Zhou instructed his student. “Regardless of the war’s outcome.”

Xi Zhichang took a deep breath. “Yes, Teacher.”

A servant arrived to report a visitor.

Zhou asked Xi to receive another group on his behalf, while he changed and went to the front hall.

There, a young Daoist with an immortal demeanor, refined bearing, and calm gaze stood to greet him.

“Apologies for disturbing your rest, Elder.”

Zhou smiled and gestured to a seat. “I invited you, Daoist Master Mu, no need for formality.”

The Daoist who looked like a youth was none other than Mu Chunyang, Sect Master of the Ming Dynasty’s Zhenwu Monastery.

“This northern expedition must be taxing on you, Master Mu,” said Zhou Mingzhe.

“Some of the young officials under the Grand Secretary have grown increasingly flippant in their actions—please don’t take it to heart. The Grand Secretary has always prioritized the nation, and oversight in daily matters is inevitable. I’ve already instructed the Censorate to discipline them. This campaign is of utmost importance. I hope you can set aside past offenses and lend him your strength.”

Mu Chunyang replied, “You’re too kind, Elder. The northern expedition concerns the fate of the country. I know the weight of such matters. Over the years, you’ve often protected our monastery—I’ve always been grateful. Since you’ve made a request, I’ll give it my all.”

Among the three political parties at court, Zhenwu Monastery had always had close ties with the Chu Party. Zhou Mingzhe and his student Xi Zhichang were personally acquainted with Mu Chunyang.

Because of Han Qingtao and the Mortal Daoist Nation issue, not only had the Ming Shushan Sect fallen into turmoil, Mu Chunyang and Zhenwu Monastery were also caught in the storm.

Zhou Mingzhe held mixed feelings toward Mu Chunyang.

But for someone who was currently the strongest Daoist in the Ming Realm, and had reached Perfection of the Ninth Heaven, he had to be used—carefully.

Mu Chunyang, as always, remained mild-mannered and modest.

Even though he vaguely sensed the presence of someone familiar, his expression didn’t change. Calmly, the Sect Master of Zhenwu Monastery took his leave from Zhou’s residence.

Zhou Mingzhe then went to a side hall.

There, Xi Zhichang was receiving two other guests on his behalf—both fellow Daoists like Mu Chunyang.

One was dressed in plain robes and straw sandals, clearly from the Ming Shushan Sect.

The other wore a dark Daoist robe, unmistakably a member of Zhenwu Monastery.

“You two have waited long,” Zhou said as he entered.

“Teacher,” Xi Zhichang and the two Daoists stood to greet him.

“With Master Mu joining the northern expedition, the monastery will be in your hands, Daoist Wei,” Zhou said with a smile.

Wei Jingyi, an elder of Zhenwu Monastery, bowed. “I’m honored by the trust. I shall rely on your guidance.”

Zhou took his seat and smiled, “Loyalty to the throne and devotion to the nation—heaven and earth will bear witness.”

Wei Jingyi: “I shall obey your instruction, Elder.”

Zhou turned to the other Daoist: “And the same words go to your sect and you, Daoist Mo.”

Mo Qingshi, elder of the Shushan Sect, replied solemnly, “I will heed your advice and ensure our sect disciples are properly supervised. Please rest assured, we harbor nothing but hatred for the traitor Han Qingtao, and have always remained loyal to the Ming Dynasty—our hearts are clear as the sun and moon!”

Zhou nodded. “You speak too humbly. I naturally trust your words.”

He smiled, “As for your sect’s artifact, it’s only being held in trust by the court for the time being.”

Mo Qingshi replied gravely, “The treasures of Shushan are treasures of the Ming. Under the court’s protection, they can better serve the country. The court commands—we obey. The Qiankun Sun-Moon Gourd, by name and nature, should belong to the state. I have often advised my fellow disciples accordingly.”

Zhou nodded approvingly. “Daoist Mo, your heart lies with the Ming. You are indeed a worthy High-Ranking Daoist.”

He swept his gaze over Mo Qingshi and Wei Jingyi, then continued, “There is another matter for which I need your assistance.”

Both replied, “Please command us.”

Zhou said, “While assisting the Grand Secretary in easing the burden of governance, I’ve had little time for scholarly pursuits. However, over the years I’ve made modest progress and would like to request your expertise to examine it with me.”

He nodded at Xi Zhichang, who stepped forward and handed each Daoist a document.

As the Eighth-Heaven Artifact Master and Pill Refining Elder browsed the texts, Xi Zhichang recalled something Zhou had once told him while discussing Chen Yu’s northern campaign:

“A true commander wins from a thousand miles away.”

That quote had left a deep impression.

The further the two Daoists read, the more shocked they became.

Zhou Mingzhe claimed he was too busy for scholarly work, but this clearly aimed to create an entirely new cultivation paradigm within Neo-Confucianism.

Until now, regardless of school—be it Classical Studies, Neo-Confucianism, or others—Confucian cultivators hadn’t fought on the front lines like martial cultivators. But in decisive battles, there was no avoiding it.

You couldn’t expect figures like Chen Yu, Zhou Mingzhe, or Liu Chong to just sit safely in the capital while sending their Seventh or Eighth-Heaven juniors to battle the steppe Khans or Western Buddhist masters—and win.

Top-tier combatants had to clash directly. Only then could the rest fight freely. Even in the Ming cultivation world, this was an unchanging truth.

But now, Zhou...

“When it comes to rituals, let us all contribute,” Zhou said with a smile.

Mo Qingshi and Wei Jingyi quickly responded, “We are honored to help and will do our utmost.”

---

Later that day, Xi Zhichang left his teacher’s residence and returned home.

As the Deputy Minister of Rites and a rising star of the Chu Party, his path to the cabinet was wide open. Though he remained deferential toward Zhou Mingzhe, Xi Zhichang himself was already a towering figure in the Ming bureaucracy.

Guests came and went constantly at his estate.

All had been dismissed—except one.

“Thank you for waiting, Brother Shouzhen,” Xi said apologetically.

Waiting for him was a middle-aged scholar named Nie Zhongjie, who hailed from Guizang.

Back when the Ming court wiped out remnants of the Lesser Ming Dynasty, Nie had earned great merit.

“Not at all. I had time to spare. The one imposing is me,” Nie replied.

After exchanging greetings and sitting down, Xi said, “Forgive my boldness, but I have a question. Some who came from Tianli mentioned that among the Nie clan, there may be a lineage practicing heterodox demonic arts under the False Tang regime?”

Nie Zhongjie’s face darkened. “It’s true. I have a rebellious, unfilial son. It is my failing as a father.”

Xi said, “Please don’t misunderstand. I’m not here to place blame. I only hope your son can repent and return to the right path. I invited you here to discuss Tianli.”

“The court’s current focus is on the northern front. As for the southwest areas linked to Tianli, stability is the priority—for now, no major moves will be made. But we must plan for the long term—ten years, a hundred years. So we must start preparing now.”

“Wise words, Brother Fanguang,” said Nie. “I may be unworthy, but I will do my part.”

From Xi’s words, Nie inferred that the imperial court wouldn’t make major moves—most work would happen outside official channels.

Though rewarded for his past service, to formally enter the imperial bureaucracy, Nie would need to pass the official examinations.

He was accomplished in Neo-Confucian cultivation, but his current efforts focused on grooming the next generation of the Nie clan.

The clan had already aligned with the Chu Party—but much would depend on future developments.

Nie Fang…

As that name came to mind, Nie Zhongjie maintained a calm appearance, but his thoughts stirred.

---

Tang Mortal Realm.

Tianshi Mansion of Mount Longhu.

Lei Jun was speaking with Ji Chuan from the Tang Shushan Sect.

“So Yuan Qingci, Li Miaozhen, and the rest of the Ming Shushan Sect weren’t conscripted for the northern campaign?”

Ji Chuan: “Not for now.”

Lei Jun: “Are they planning to take this chance to reclaim the Qiankun Sun-Moon Gourd and other artifacts?”

Ji Chuan said, “Not really. Though the Ming court is focusing its strength on the northern front, the forces they left behind remain formidable.”

And they hadn’t sought help from the Tang either. Yuan Qingci and the others were still observing quietly.

Lei Jun, despite his disdain for the Neo-Confucian elders of the Ming court, had no intention of meddling in the war.

That would only relieve pressure on Sumeru’s Buddhist monks.

“Pull one string and the whole net moves,” Lei Jun muttered, handing a Talisman Decree to Ji Chuan.

Ji looked at it and said, “The Sumeru Treasure Division on the Han side has begun to withdraw?”

Even the Karma Division active in the Ming realm was feeling the pressure.

Now the Treasure Division in the Han realm was feeling it too.

The Five Vajra Divisions of Sumeru—with the Vajra Division already collapsed, and the Lotus Division Master Zongjia, the Gold Vajra Rod, and Amitabha’s Peacock Throne all lost in Guixu, plus the death of Master Baima—had suffered great losses.

Now the remaining divisions acted more cautiously.

Though each operated independently, they now had to communicate and prepare together.

“The Treasure Division’s retreat has essentially undone years of effort in the Han realm,” Ji said. “What about the noble families and Dakang Temple?”

Lei Jun replied, “The noble clans are also pulling back, no longer as active. And in contrast, Dakang Temple is becoming even more aggressive.”

Ji was stunned.

Originally, it had been a three-way struggle: Sumeru’s Treasure Division, the Twelve Aristocratic Families, and Dakang Temple.

Now with the Treasure Division willingly backing off, the balance had collapsed.

The noble families had no desire to clash directly with Dakang Temple, especially not in bloody battle.

On the surface, they wouldn’t withdraw completely, lest the court accuse them of cowardice.

But the effect was the same—they were retreating steadily.

Naturally, the noble families had their excuses:

“The monks abandoned us, sold us out, caused heavy losses—we demand punishment.”

One tug, and the whole net moves indeed... Ji massaged his forehead.

What impact this might have on the Han Emperor and Crown Prince, no one could say.

With Tang Longhu, Sumeru’s Treasure Division, and the noble families all falling apart, the Han imperial court would now have to face Dakang Temple’s rebels directly.

Lei Jun, uninterested in meddling in the Ming’s northern campaign, remained focused on cultivating in the Tang realm.

From time to time, he gathered updates via Chu Kun, Ji Dongquan, Xiao Chunhui, and Zhang Hui.

For once, the Ming Dynasty was united, deploying large numbers of top-tier cultivators from top to bottom.

Their pace was slow but steady—perfect for Neo-Confucian cultivators, whose strength grew the longer they fought.

From steppe tribes to Sumeru’s Karma Division, the enemy was full of elites.

But the Ming side was showing explosive potential.

Grand Secretary Chen Yu, Third-Ranked Grand Scholar Sang Yan, and Fourth-Ranked Grand Scholar Liu Chong led the charge.

Even retired officials returned to duty.

And they were joined by Mu Chunyang of Zhenwu Monastery, and Abbot Guangshu of Bodhi Monastery.

These alone formed an astonishing lineup of top-tier cultivators.

Others? Countless.

The Ming campaign force resembled a moving mountain range, first pressing against the northern tribes, then turning toward the Western Sumeru Buddhists.

“Heavy and powerful, yes, but at this pace, they’ll likely only push Sumeru back and then seal the Void Gate,” Lei Jun commented after hearing Chu Kun’s latest update.

If the Ming court wasn’t greedy, that would still meet their goal of pacifying the northwest.

Given how much the Western Buddhists valued Mount Sumeru, they wouldn’t risk its fall just to trap the Ming in a “lure into the urn” tactic.

This rare moment of unity—Sumeru might as well close its doors and ride out the storm.

Lei Jun didn’t believe the Ming Dynasty could remain this united for long...

“That’s what I thought too,” said Chu Kun, sounding odd. “But the latest news is... they’ve seized the Void Gate to Sumeru and are pressing the assault.”

Lei Jun: “?”

Chu Kun: “Word is, a team of palace eunuchs formed their own unit. With Chen Yu personally leading the charge, no one dared cause trouble inside. But outside, maybe eager for credit, those eunuchs charged hard—and actually seized the gate.”

Lei Jun: “…………”