PCJ – Chapter 572 Savior

“Sixteen years ago, Zhou Daoqian, the astrologer from Yimen, observed the stars at night and said that the Emperor Star of Ziwei had appeared. He believed it might be the savior destined to avert the thousand-year calamity of the Daoist sects. But now, sixteen years have passed, and the Daoist world has fallen into such a state, yet that so-called savior has never shown up. Do you think Zhou Daoqian was mistaken?” Di Muguo asked.

“Not necessarily,” Liang Dengheng replied with the same two words.

This time, Di Muguo remained silent. He was waiting for Liang Dengheng to elaborate.

“If the Ziwei Star truly descended sixteen years ago, then that person would only be sixteen years old now. It’s entirely possible that they’ve already appeared around us, and we just haven’t realized it,” Liang Dengheng said.

Di Muguo shook his head. “That’s just your wishful thinking. A savior? I’ve never believed there’s such a thing. The Ascension Path from Earth to the Immortal Realm has been completely severed! Alas, whether it’s your Kunlun, my Shushan, or Buzhou Mountain, all will eventually decline. This fate—I accept it.”

“Brother Di, perhaps today is not the day for us to discuss this. It looks like Brother Zhao is coming. Shall we go meet him together?” Liang Dengheng said.

In the distance, within a remote courtyard of the Kunlun Sect, Zhang Jiaohua had been watching some lively commotion outside but quickly lost interest and was about to head back. Just then, he heard someone shouting loudly:

“Huge clearance sale! Huge clearance sale! Ancestral cultivation manuals on sale! From Body Refinement all the way to Integration with the Dao—various techniques available. Genuine handwritten rare editions! Don’t miss it!”

The voice was so abrupt that it drew the attention of all the cultivators assigned to this remote courtyard, including Zhang Jiaohua himself.

“How much for this manual?” someone asked, evidently interested.

“I don’t sell individual volumes. You have to buy the whole set. Not asking much—just one hundred million. Not only are the techniques complete, but these manuals are also cultural and artistic collectibles. Even if the techniques themselves are no longer very useful, the collection value alone is worth the price,” the vendor claimed.

“Who’d believe that? Who knows if you didn’t just copy it yourself and make it look old? You say it’s ancestral, but it’s probably just self-made. And these techniques—some parts are missing here, others there. Who’d dare to actually cultivate them? Plus, I know you. Everywhere you go, you sell ‘ancestral manuals.’ You’ve done it so many times, and yet you still have handwritten ‘rare editions’?”

“Times are tough. I’m just trying to earn a living. Why push me so hard?” The seller’s earlier story was clearly a scam.

“Tough on your mother! I bought a set from you last time at the Buzhou Mountain market—damn it! And you’re still selling the same stuff here?”

Turns out enemies meet on narrow paths.

The vendor looked embarrassed. “Even if these aren’t authentic ancestral techniques, they’re still ancestral secret arts. When did I ever lie?”

“Just hearing that makes me want to punch you. I practiced your family’s secret manual and nearly went mad from cultivation deviation.”

“That’s not my fault. The spiritual energy nowadays is impure. My family’s manuals require pure heaven and earth qi to be drawn into the dantian. The prerequisite is pure qi. Without that, and you still try to cultivate—it’s a death wish.”

“So it all comes down to your techniques being useless.”

“Whose techniques are useful these days? Sooner or later, we’re all going to be ordinary mortals again.”

“Sigh.”

Hearing this, Zhang Jiaohua walked over. “How much for the manual?”

“Fellow Daoist, that guy’s manual is worthless. Don’t buy it,” the one who had exposed the scam chimed in again, doing his best to dissuade.

“You heard it yourself. These techniques may have been passed down in my family, but they’re no longer useful. If you really want them, just give me eighty to a hundred thousand and take the lot.” With his scam exposed, the vendor stopped spinning tales and offered a throwaway price.

“I don’t have that much on me. How about this piece of jade—worth around a hundred thousand?” Zhang Jiaohua pulled out a jade stone.

The vendor snatched the jade from Zhang’s hand, stuffed the whole stack of manuals into his arms, and ran off at full speed, afraid Zhang would change his mind.

“Young man, you’re too naïve. That jade you just gave—it’s worth way more than a hundred thousand. You could easily sell it for several hundred thousand. Jade prices are soaring these days. That piece was excellent quality. Why do you think he ran so fast?”

“Are the manuals actually usable?” Zhang Jiaohua only cared about the manuals.

“The manuals themselves are fine. But who uses those kinds of manuals anymore? If they were useful, do you think he’d be selling them?”

“As long as they’re not flawed, I’m happy.” Zhang Jiaohua beamed, cradling the stack of manuals.

The man looked at Zhang a few more times, thinking he was just too naïve.

Back in their room, Wei Chenguang finally spoke: “I recognized the man who sold those techniques. He was from the Western Immortal Source Sect—once one of the seventy-two blessed lands, and a prominent sect. But after their spiritual vein dried up, they declined rapidly. I didn’t expect him to fall to the point of selling off his sect’s techniques.”

“So, their techniques are likely legitimate,” Zhang Jiaohua asked.

Wei Chenguang nodded. “Most likely. Without spiritual veins, the techniques became useless to him. If they’re worthless, there’s no need for him to fake anything.”

“Good. Our Meishan Sect lacks cultivation techniques anyway. This is a great chance to collect them. Keep an eye out—if anyone else is selling manuals, see if you can acquire some. Just don’t attract too much attention,” Zhang Jiaohua said quietly.

“Got it. If we work separately, no one will notice,” Wei Chenguang agreed.

At this time, most of the Kunlun Sect’s attention was focused on the upcoming cultivation symposium, so no one cared much about the trades happening in the small market near the remote courtyard.

Meanwhile, Liang Dengheng, Di Muguo, and Zhao Kaiyuan held a closed-door meeting that lasted the entire night. No one knew what they discussed, though many speculated it was about the depletion of spiritual veins. As the three heads of the Daoist world’s greatest holy lands, every move they made influenced the fate of the Daoist path.

No one would have guessed—the three were utterly at a loss.

“If things keep going this way, within ten years even the three sacred lands will lose their spiritual veins. When that happens, it truly will be the end of the Daoist world,” Zhao Kaiyuan said bleakly.

“Is there really no hope left at all?” Liang Dengheng still couldn’t accept such an outcome.

“Too bad we don’t know where Zhou Daoqian is. If he were around, maybe we could ask him whether this ‘savior’ truly exists!” Di Muguo said.