Seeking Fortune and Avoiding Misfortune: Starting from the Celestial Master’s Mansion
Chapter 422: A bamboo staff and straw sandals outpace a horse; a raincloak shields you for life.

“Sixth Brother, your scholarly talents have always been the finest among us.”

Wang Jian composed himself and continued, “Seventh Son is the most promising of his generation. I wonder if you’d be willing to let him stay by your side and study under you?”

“Wang Xu” turned to Wang Bujiu. “Just now, you said you planned to travel through the Tang Mortal Realm and beyond?”

Wang Bujiu replied, “Yes, Uncle. That’s indeed my intention.”

“Wang Xu” nodded. “Reading ten thousand books and walking ten thousand miles—at your current cultivation stage, wandering the world will help you grow more than studying at my side.”

“Yes, Sixth Uncle,” Wang Bujiu responded.

Hearing “Wang Xu’s” tone, Wang Jian breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Even though Wang Bujiu wouldn’t be following this great figure to study directly, it was clear that “Wang Xu” held him in high regard.

At that moment, “Wang Xu” glanced toward the distant riverbank.

Leading the way was a capable-looking middle-aged official—it was none other than Ouyang Jingyuan, who had also once visited Datong with Fang Junmei.

He cupped his hands in a salute from the riverbank toward “Wang Xu.” “By order of His Highness the Crown Prince, I, Ouyang Jingyuan, extend formal greetings to Master Dongyang.”

“Wang Xu” did not stop the boat. “His Highness is thoughtful.”

Ouyang Jingyuan’s gaze swept past Wang Jian and Wang Bujiu before briefly pausing on Fang Junmei.

Fang Junmei returned the look with a calm expression and offered a formal salute.

Ouyang Jingyuan did not board the vessel. Instead, he leapt into the air, briefly hovering above the great river, and then floated downstream alongside the boat.

“His Highness was overjoyed upon hearing of your reappearance. Though he wishes to meet with you, he is preoccupied with state affairs and cannot make the trip himself. Thus, he sincerely invites you to visit Chang’an at your convenience.”

“Wang Xu” stood with hands behind his back. “Another time, perhaps.”

In truth, he had been hoping to locate Pan Hailin of the Han Dynasty’s Mount Longhu.

But that man was elusive—after briefly showing up to help the Han court repel a powerful enemy, he had vanished again.

That only made Lei Jun more eager to find him.

Yet for now, with no clear leads, he decided not to press the matter and instead turned his attention elsewhere.

“I’m heading to Suyang first,” he said calmly.

Ouyang Jingyuan’s heart skipped a beat.

On the boat, Wang Jian, Wang Bujiu, and Fang Junmei all had similar reactions.

The current abbot of the Vast Void Temple, Master Juexiang, was presently there.

Sumeru.

After the recent invasion by experts from the Ming Dynasty, the sacred tranquility of the Buddhist paradise had been disrupted.

But now, after a period of recuperation, Sumeru had regained its former peace and purity.

Even the once-collapsed Mount Sumeru had been re-erected, now glowing faintly with golden light, like a pillar of the Buddhist realm.

However, a closer look revealed that the mountain was not quite the same as before.

Though it still radiated the wisdom and indestructible essence of Enlightenment, its foundation wasn’t as deep as it once was.

Atop the summit of Mount Sumeru, a single monk sat cross-legged, his body faintly shimmering with gold—as if he were a Buddha cast from metal.

His eyes were closed, quietly chanting sutras.

Below the mountain, the youthful figure of Vimosha, the Head of the Buddha Division of the Sumeru Vajra Realm, approached and bowed deeply toward the golden monk above. “Venerable One.”

Atop the peak, the Venerable of Wisdom opened his eyes. “Any word from Zongjia’s group?”

Vimosha replied, “Thanks to your guidance, Senior Brothers Vandato and Jatiluo have made progress in extracting Senior Brother Zongjia from Guixu. They’ll need a bit more time.”

The Venerable of Wisdom said gently, “It’s good as long as he returns.”

He then asked, “In the Mortal Realm of the Two Jins, has the surge of spiritual energy begun?”

Vimosha bowed his head. “Not yet, Venerable. That region is still too close in time to the last great tribulation.”

The Venerable of Wisdom showed no disappointment. His face and tone remained serene. “No matter. Patience.”

“Yes, Venerable.”

Over the past while, bits and pieces of news from Penglai had reached them through various channels.

What he hadn’t anticipated was Saha’s involvement in the region.

Although Penglai had changed, Saha itself remained stable.

Among the Five Divisions of the Sumeru Vajra Realm, his Buddha Division had been cultivating influence in the Mortal Realm of the Two Jins.

Though the spiritual energy there remained weak, it provided a solid human foundation for Sumeru’s Buddhist endeavors.

The Buddha Division had the deepest roots and most extensive development of all the Divisions.

In Northern Jin, Buddhism under Sumeru had already been established as the state religion, with Vimosha himself serving as National Preceptor.

There, Daoist and Witch Sects had little traction, and even prestigious Confucian families were unable to suppress Buddhism’s rise.

In fact, the Buddha Division’s greatest rival in that realm was the Southern Jin Kingdom, separated by a wide river.

There too, Buddhism flourished—but it was the Buddhism of the Central Plains, backed by Saha.

“As for the Han Mortal Realm, don’t intervene for now. Just observe.”

The Venerable of Wisdom continued, “When Vandato returns, leave matters to him. There’s no need to act forcefully.”

Vimosha bowed.

Exiting seclusion early had indeed affected the Venerable. He needed time to fully recover.

For now, stabilizing Sumeru took priority.

The reemergence of Wang Xu, the Eastern Yang Hermit, might bring change to the Han Mortal Realm.

Whether that would benefit or harm Sumeru remained to be seen. Better to maintain stillness and adapt as needed.

“Venerable…” Vimosha asked softly. “What about the Tang Mortal Realm?”

Although the Tang had caused them great losses in the past, Vimosha’s tone held no resentment—he brought it up for another reason.

The Venerable of Wisdom nodded slowly. “The Tang Mortal Realm warrants close attention. Emperor Zhang Wantong harbors deeper mysteries.”

“Yes, Venerable. I shall obey.”

Elder Fu Yuzhou of Han Mount Longhu stepped forward. “Sect Master.”

Ji Daocheng returned the greeting. “Uncle Fu.”

Fu Yuzhou asked softly, “Shall we contact Hailin?”

Ji Daocheng shook his head. “Not for now. We mustn’t risk exposing the location of the Taijing Salvation Grotto-Heaven. I trust Hailin can handle worldly matters on his own. Our focus now should be on cultivation, as instructed by our Daoist Ancestor.”

“Are you preparing to form the Bridge to Profound Enlightenment?” Fu Yuzhou asked in a low voice.

Ji Daocheng replied, “The timing of success remains uncertain.”

Kongsang Realm—counted among the Ten Earth Realms alongside places like the Earth Sea, Yellow Springs, Guixu, and Luoyuan.

However, unlike the harsh environments of the Earth Sea or Luoyuan, Kongsang resembled the human world more closely, with rivers and mountains stretching far and wide. A man dressed in old-fashioned robes wandered seemingly aimlessly, yet his pace subtly echoed the intermittent black smoke rising from the distant mountains.

After a while, he halted.

A youthful-looking boy approached. “Senior Brother Peng.”

Grand Shaman Peng Youshan of Kongsang asked, “Any new updates?”

The boy—Ou Hongcheng, also a Kongsang Grand Shaman—nodded. “Latest report says Wang Xu appeared on the northern shores of the Poyang Marsh in the Han Mortal Realm and wounded the Turtle Emperor of Flame Island.”

Peng Youshan gazed into the distance without replying.

Ou Hongcheng added, “He seems to be continuing downriver. If he heads toward Jiangdong, the monks of Vast Void Temple are currently active there.”

Still, Peng Youshan remained deep in thought.

“Senior Brother Peng?” Ou Hongcheng prompted.

Peng Youshan asked, “Are we sure it’s really Wang Xu?”

Ou Hongcheng replied, “A Confucian cultivator skilled in Divine Archery, Recitation, and Classical Studies, and with such formidable power—there’s no one else who fits the profile.”

Peng Youshan mused, “Our King personally cast the Shaman-King Descent Curse upon him back then. Hard to believe he survived.”

That silenced Ou Hongcheng as well.

The Shaman King had once attempted to descend upon the human world using a host body, avoiding the dissipation of curse spirits and mana upon arrival. Unfortunately, he was interrupted.

Now, with everything in place, success was critical.

And yet, Wang Xu—who had once disrupted that descent—was back like a haunting ghost.

“Could it be interference from Sumeru or somewhere else?” Ou Hongcheng asked.

Peng Youshan replied, “Sumeru can barely manage its own mess. They’re unlikely to meddle in ours.”

Ou Hongcheng lamented, “It’s a shame we discovered the Golden Khanate’s human realm too late. If we had time to prepare, it could’ve saved us years of effort.”

Peng Youshan nodded lightly. “Timing waits for no one.”

Back during the Tang Realm’s war over Datong, Kongsang had not yet completed its preparations. By the time the war ended, the chance to harness the bloodshed and souls for their ritual had passed.

No use regretting what was lost.

“For now, our full attention must be on the Han Realm,” Peng Youshan said.

“Yes,” Ou Hongcheng replied.

The Tang Realm—especially its Talismanic Daoist Branch—wasn’t without strategic value. It could help distract Han Mount Longhu.

“Keep a close eye on the Tang Realm as well,” Peng Youshan instructed. “And as for Wang Xu in the Han Realm—verify his identity. Don’t let him ruin our King’s plans again.”

Ou Hongcheng nodded. “I’ll go to the human world myself. Abbot Juexiang isn’t weak. Even if Wang Xu could slay the Turtle Emperor of Flame Island, I don’t believe he could have fully purged the Shaman-King Curse.”

“If the opportunity arises, I’ll coordinate with Abbot Juexiang to eliminate him. Completely.”

“But doing so might expose Kongsang.”

Peng Youshan said calmly, “No matter. If necessary, we can reverse our arrangements in the human world. Just don’t damage the key points. They must remain secure.”

“I understand,” Ou Hongcheng replied.

He turned to the black smoke rising from the mountains in the distance, bowed solemnly, then took his leave from Peng Youshan and departed Kongsang.

Lei Jun rode a small boat down the river, his Zhou Heavenly Mirror of Jade Purity surveying the land as he traveled. His expression remained calm as the region around Suzhou gradually came into view.

There, Vast Void Temple’s top monks and numerous demons were laying siege to the ancestral grounds of the Li Clan of Suzhou.

The Li Clan lacked a Ninth Heaven Confucian Grand Scholar, and could not match Abbot Juexiang, Vast Void’s leader.

Though the abbot had not yet reached Perfection in the Ninth Heaven, his strength was overwhelming.

Even Ye Zhao, clan leader of the Ye Clan of Qingzhou—himself a Ninth Heaven Grand Scholar with the “Peace Under Heaven” title—could not match Juexiang due to differences in minor realms.

Forced to retreat into the Li Clan’s ancestral grounds, Ye Zhao had no choice but to unite with the Li Clan to defend together.

However, as a guest, Ye Zhao was not in full command. The two sides struggled to cooperate seamlessly.

Meanwhile, Abbot Juexiang had other top monks and demons under his command. Though the defenders barely held the line, they couldn’t secure the outer perimeter.

Vast Void’s wandering monks and roaming demons ravaged the southern lands, causing untold suffering.

Though the Han court had sent reinforcements, Juexiang controlled the tempo, advancing and withdrawing at will. The imperial forces were spread thin.

With the south in crisis, another plea for aid was sent to Chang’an.

Word spread that Crown Prince Xiang Jing planned to personally lead a southern expedition. But the presence of foreign experts and northern demons on the borders delayed him.

Lei Jun’s boat reached the lower river region.

His Jade Mirror showed the ruined state of the Li Clan’s ancestral lands in Suzhou.

Compared to the ancestral estates of long-standing noble clans in the Tang Realm, the Li Clan had risen recently. Yet even so, their estate resembled a fortress rather than a manor.

Now, that fortress lay battered.

A massive Turtle-Dragon Demon of the Ninth Heaven—crocodilian in form—was attacking the stronghold alongside monks and demons from Vast Void Temple.

Within the walls, the Li and Ye clans defended while keeping their focus on one particular figure—the black-robed monk standing in the distance with a cold gaze behind his smiling face.

Abbot Juexiang, head of Vast Void Temple, stood at the Fourth Layer of the Ninth Heaven, the most powerful Evil Dao practitioner in the Han Realm.

Every gesture he made could spell disaster for the defenders.

Vast Void Temple followed the Extinction Tathāgata lineage. Its Ninth Heaven realms were not called Dharma Bodies like other Buddhist paths, but instead stages of Annihilation:

• First Layer: Annihilation of Primordial Matter

• Second Layer: Annihilation of Mind and Soul

• Third Layer: Annihilation of All Dharmas

• Fourth Layer: Annihilation of the Profound Void World

• Fifth Layer: Annihilation of Universal Reflection (the Perfection Stage)

Together, these were called the Five Great Annihilations, culminating in “Shattering True Suchness”—ultimate offense and defense, destructive beyond compare.

Among the many human traditions, Vast Void Temple was one of the best at direct frontal warfare.

Though Juexiang had not reached Perfection, his mastery of the Six Paths of Emptiness was already terrifying:

• Annihilation of Primordial Matter, when paired with the Human Realm, shattered Confucian ritual instruments.

• Annihilation of All Dharmas, paired with the Asura Realm, devastated opponent’s spells.

• Annihilation of the Profound Void, paired with the Hell Realm, repeatedly tore through the Li Clan’s estate.

Had Ye Zhao and others not helped, Suzhou would have fallen already.

Then, news arrived—Wang Xu of Dongyang Mountain had reappeared, heading downriver.

The siege eased slightly. The defenders breathed a bit easier.

Though Juexiang did not withdraw, he grew more cautious, assigning his monks and demons to continue pressing the siege while he watched from the side.

But the one coming made no attempt to hide.

One by one, reports came from monks and demons stationed upstream—only to go silent.

Juexiang looked toward the horizon.

There, a single boat drifted downstream.

At its bow stood a middle-aged scholar in a rain cloak, bamboo staff in hand.

Around him, a majestic painting of mountains and rivers seemed to unfold, engulfing the land.

Wherever he passed, Vast Void disciples and demons were drawn in and disappeared—swept up by elegant but unstoppable sword intent.

“So, the famed Recluse of Dongyang Mountain,” Juexiang said, his hands joined in greeting. “Tell me, how fares your health, good sir?”

As he spoke, thick black smoke spread like ink, destroying everything it touched.

From within, a jet-black Buddha with four heads and eight arms manifested, seated upon a Black Lotus.

All eight hands pressed together in a gesture of prayer.

At once, a black hell spanned across the river.

Six Paths of Emptiness—Hell Realm.

It merged with Juexiang’s Annihilation of the Profound Void, forming a terrifying domain meant to counter Confucian Nation-State Canons, Talismanic Ascension Realms, and Ghost-Dance Rituals of Grand Shamans.

Lei Jun, in his guise as Wang Xu, had deployed the “Nation-State Domain” of the Confucian Canon—but it was being shredded.

The void around him cracked under the pressure, and his domain struggled to expand or retract.

Worse yet, the annihilative force began pushing outward—threatening to engulf the boundary of space itself...

The pitch-black hell expanded outward.

A lone boat carried the scholar forward, as if sailing directly into the inferno.

Yet “Wang Xu” remained unhurried. He lightly tapped his bamboo staff and rose into the air, chanting in a gentle, drawn-out voice:

“Five hues fill the clouds above,

Nine lights spread across the misty sky.”

As his chant echoed, a brilliant radiance truly burst forth across the heavens.

Clouds surged, and a vast great sun seemed to descend from the sky, hovering over the dark hell below and bathing it in light.

Infinite light and heat began to flow through the realm, distorting the air with their intensity.

Even so, Abbot Juexiang, now in the form of a black four-headed, eight-armed demonic Buddha, did not retreat.

Above the Buddha, a vortex of darkness emerged, within it a massive Asura form just as pitch-black, embodying Juexiang’s domineering intent of annihilating all Dharma—confronting the descending radiant sun head-on.

Gold and black clashed with a thunderous roar.

Sunlight and black mist devoured one another, neither yielding.

The Asura Path, capable of destroying all law and combining offense and defense in perfect balance, was on full display—powerful enough to halt the falling sun.

But once in direct contact with that blazing sun, Juexiang's heart sank.

He sensed that the sun's power flowed endlessly—vast, mighty, seemingly without end.

Even if not truly infinite, it was certainly far more enduring than his Asura Path.

The Vast Void Temple's mystical arts were potent in direct combat—but at the cost of tremendous mana consumption. They could not endure drawn-out battles.

And grappling with this opponent only hastened that drain.

Yet “Wang Xu” appeared completely at ease, holding his green bamboo staff, strolling toward him without haste.

The black demonic Buddha formed by Juexiang let out four simultaneous bellows from its four mouths.

Drawing on the Hungry Ghost Path of the Void-Annihilating Six Paths, combined with mind-and-soul-devouring intent, a hidden power erupted.

Invisible to the mortal eye.

But “Wang Xu” could see the swarm of invisible hungry ghosts, launching directly at his soul.

This was a soul-targeting mystical art.

Normally, facing such a spell, “Wang Xu” would risk soul injury—or even expose his true identity.

But Juexiang never got the chance.

The rain mist surrounding the scholar swirled, and the reeds on his reed cloak fluttered like dragons hiding in clouds—heads visible, tails unseen.

This rain mist and dragon shadows not only defended against tangible attacks but also blocked formless, soul-piercing techniques.

The phantom hungry ghosts were ensnared the moment they entered the mist.

“Wang Xu” then swung his bamboo staff—shattering them completely.

Juexiang, though startled, didn’t panic. He invoked the Human Realm of the Six Paths, which specialized in destroying physical forms.

But it had no effect on his opponent’s cloak or bamboo staff.

“...What is this thing?” Juexiang was astonished.

He wasn’t sure if his opponent had been secretly recovering all these years, but he’d never heard of the Eastern Yang Hermit wielding such formidable artifacts aside from the Sunrise Bow.

Though “Wang Xu” seemed to stroll idly, a few steps brought him right before the black demonic Buddha.

He struck with the green bamboo staff—the Buddha raised an arm to block, but three arms were shattered on the spot.

A radiant light flared.

At near point-blank range, without warning, a streak of brilliant light—like an arrow of pure light—shot out.

Juexiang’s Asura Path was still fully committed to resisting the great sun overhead and couldn’t pull back in time. He could only watch helplessly as that “light arrow” pierced the black Buddha.

Shot like that, with no need for the Sunrise Bow, and still so powerful... Juexiang groaned.

The broken demonic Buddha collapsed with a deafening crash.

Black mist exploded, transforming into a night curtain blanketing the sky.

This was the strongest of the Six Paths—the Deva Path.

If it had been performed by a master who had reached Perfection in the Ninth Heaven's Realm of Annihilation, its power would have been at its peak.

Even now, Juexiang was fighting desperately. The Deva Path’s might was enough to temporarily withstand the onslaught of the Nation-Realm and the great sun overhead.

He quickly tried to retreat.

But movement speed was never a strength of Vast Void monks.

“Wang Xu” was far faster. With a single step, his bamboo staff came crashing down.

Suddenly, a blood sea surged into existence—vast and endless—separating him from Juexiang.

Yet the bamboo staff struck down, instantly blasting a hole in the blood sea.

On the riverside, Ouyang Jingyuan, Wang Bujiu, Fang Junmei, and Wang Jian were all watching in awe.

Sir Dongyang, you’re too humble...

Is this what you call fighting while still recovering from injury?

Then what would your full power look like?!

But when the sudden blood sea appeared, they all tensed.

“...The Blood River Grand Shaman!”

Not just them—both sides engaged in battle around Suzhou took notice.

Though the name of the Eastern Yang Hermit had long been legendary, he had vanished for many years.

And Juexiang was one of the most notorious demonic cultivators in recent times.

True, Vast Void experts couldn’t endure prolonged battles—but this fight had barely started!

Juexiang had withdrawn early from Suzhou to conserve strength—he was at peak power, ready to unleash devastation.

Yet even so, he had been crushed head-on in mere moments?

The one aiding him—Ou Hongcheng, Grand Shaman of Kongsang—was equally shocked.

The blood sea he summoned was dispersed with a single blow from that bamboo staff.

Sensing the unfathomable power within, Ou Hongcheng frowned.

This opponent was far beyond expectations.

He immediately gave up on helping Juexiang turn the tide, and instead called for a retreat.

But just as that thought formed—

A thunderclap echoed in his mind.

The sound birthed an invisible lightning arrow, speeding straight for his soul.

A soul-piercing arrow!

Ou Hongcheng groaned, turned into a blood shadow, and fled.

The scholar remained as composed as ever, stepping ashore from the riverbank. His reed cloak fluttered, rain mist spreading in all directions.

Having repelled both Juexiang and Ou Hongcheng, he wandered forward, bamboo staff in hand, passing through the ranks of Vast Void monks and demonic beasts.

With each step, he casually swept his staff left and right—

One moment crushing a monk’s skull, the next breaking a demon’s spine.

The enemy completely collapsed. Morale shattered, the monks and demons scattered in panic.

In the misty rain, blood flowed freely—

But the haze obscured the gore, leaving behind a dreamlike beauty.

Whether it was Ouyang Jingyuan and the others on the riverbank, or Ye Zhao and his group within the Li Clan’s ancestral land, all watched the scene in stunned silence.

Ye Zhao, clan leader of the Ye Clan of Qingzhou, was the first to react. He emerged from the Li Clan estate, chasing after the fleeing Ninth Heaven-level Dragon-Turtle Demon.

The other Han Dynasty cultivators followed swiftly.

The battle turned in an instant.

The siege of Suzhou was broken.

The Vast Void monks and demon clans that had ravaged the Jiangnan region met swift defeat—either slain or sent fleeing.

The people of Jiangnan were finally safe.

Outside Suzhou, in the rain and mist, the Han cultivators all exhaled in relief:

“We owe this morning’s salvation to Sir Dongyang...”

But when they looked up, all they saw was a retreating back.

The scholar continued walking in the direction Juexiang and Ou Hongcheng had fled.

Calm and unhurried, he disappeared into the mist within moments.

Only a refined, resonant verse lingered behind:

“With bamboo staff and straw sandals, I outpace horses with ease—

Who fears the storm? Let mist and rain be my companion in life.”