Chapter 25 – The Celestial Elder of the Heavenly Pool’s Fame Spreads

That cup of spirit tea which improves one’s Physique needs no explanation; treating someone to tea is simply good manners, and no one could find fault with it.

Inside the bracelet were several changes of clothes, some dried and fresh fruit, a three-foot-long green bamboo staff, and three small packets of tea leaves.

A sniff of the tea’s aroma confirmed it was the same spirit tea he had drunk.

Li Qiuchen truly felt the Senior’s care and concern.

He also had to thank the Stupid Bird; if it hadn’t let out that broken-beaked squawk, none of these preparations would likely have been made.

Li Qiuchen, utterly content, said solemnly to the White Crane, “I’ll treat you well from now on.”

Nutcase!

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The White Crane retreated two steps in alarm.

Li Qiuchen’s biggest worry used to be that he’d always been an undocumented outsider.

But that was the worry of a wild man in the mountains.

Now, with this outfit and the covert support of the mountain god, whether he was documented or not no longer mattered.

Clothes make the man; attire itself is a badge of identity.

“Tomorrow we go down the mountain to probe that Daoist’s background. When the time comes, you’ll obey my every order; do not act rashly or on impulse.”

Li Qiuchen cautioned carefully.

The Stupid Bird’s brain did fail at times, but it had one virtue: knowing its limits and being willing to listen.

If it had been the argumentative, contrary sort, Li Qiuchen would have parted ways long ago.

Early next morning, as the sun had just risen, Li Qiuchen strolled down the mountain clutching his new green bamboo staff.

The staff was no Magic Treasure—just a straight length of bamboo. Its only merits were light weight and hardness; it could even serve as a weapon for self-defense.

Entering the village, he was greeted by the thick scent of incense.

The Daoist was there, leading men, women, old and young in wild dance, as if practicing some health-boosting exercise akin to the Five-Animal Frolics.

It should have been time to work the fields, yet the villagers seemed to have forgotten their duties, wholly absorbed in this Cultivation.

That was definitely abnormal.

If you don’t farm the land, what will you eat?

This time Li Qiuchen came openly, hiding nothing of his presence.

Hearing his footsteps, the Daoist turned, sized him up, and showed caution and surprise.

The mountain hamlet was remote; a stranger appearing out of nowhere naturally warranted vigilance.

Yet Li Qiuchen was very young and neat in appearance, which lessened suspicion.

At the very least he didn’t look like a rival here to smash the scene.

The Old Daoist Priest closed his technique, stroked his beard, chuckled, gave quiet orders to dismiss the villagers, and walked toward Li Qiuchen.

“Immeasurable Heavenly Venerable; this poor Daoist is Fang Hong. May I ask how to address you, Fellow Daoist?”

Li Qiuchen copied his gesture and saluted. “Greetings, Junior Martial Uncle. Your Disciple Hong Yang Cultivates with his Master in the mountains, unaware of worldly years. Today I came down for a stroll, passed this place, saw auspicious clouds above the village, and knew a lofty person was here; I came especially to pay respects.”

Junior Martial Uncle? Where did that come from?

The words left the Old Daoist Priest baffled. After pondering a long while he could only ask, “May I ask which venerable Master is your teacher…?”

Li Qiuchen planted the bamboo staff in the ground; fresh green leaves slowly sprouted.

The Old Daoist Priest started in shock and hurriedly bowed. “So we are fellow travelers; forgive this poor Daoist’s poor eyesight.”

Li Qiuchen smiled. “My Master left on a journey years ago and hasn’t returned; I don’t know where he went. Seeing the changes in this village from the mountain, I thought my Master had come back, but instead it turns out a Junior Martial Uncle is performing rites here.”

“No, no, absolutely do not call me Junior Martial Uncle; you’d flatter this poor Daoist to death. Let us address each other as peers.”

The Old Daoist Priest quickly added, “This poor Daoist wandered here, could not bear to see the people’s hardships, and offered guidance. I never meant to intrude upon a Senior’s sacred ground. Please, Junior Brother, do not take offense.”

The old man was quite sensible.

Sensible made things easy; if he’d been as unruly as Call Break Heaven, Li Qiuchen would have had trouble prying information from him.

They found a place to sit, and Li Qiuchen said gravely, “To be honest with you, Senior, this place is called Jiguan Mountain, remote and secluded, rarely visited. What brings you here?”

Spare me the wandering tale—this isn’t some famous mountain or great river; you’d have to be bored senseless to wander here.

The Old Daoist Priest hesitated, reluctant to speak, but seeing that this young local Daoist had come calling, he feared offending him and inviting needless trouble if he spoke falsehoods.

After weighing the matter he lowered his voice. “Since Junior Brother Cultivates in these mountains, surely you know that some days ago the Celestial Elder of the Heavenly Pool fought someone, perished, and vanished from the Dao?”

Who?

What nonsense?

Celestial what Elder?

Li Qiuchen’s mind was full of question marks, but outwardly calm he nodded slightly. “This Junior secluded himself for many years and only sensed something; I do not know the details.”

Hearing this, the Old Daoist Priest thought, “Crap, this is an old monster pretending to be tender.”

Explain to me: what the hell do you mean by ‘secluded in the mountains for many years,’ huh?

The Master you speak of—is it yourself?

The Pharmacist line treads the Great Dao of longevity; the deeper the Cultivation, the younger one appears, even returning to youth.

Conversely, an aged appearance like his meant one had not even entered the gate.

Thinking this, he dared not put on airs; he glanced left and right, then furtively produced a shriveled, rough-looking dried root from his robe.

Li Qiuchen leapt back three steps in a flash.

The aura of that root was all too familiar.

“The Celestial Elder of the Heavenly Pool you speak of—is that old peach tree?”

“Exactly.”

Hearing Li Qiuchen speak the venerable name so directly, the Old Daoist Priest involuntarily stooped even lower.

“We Loose Cultivators never knew that within the Cang Mountains of Yunzhong County such a lofty hermit dwelt. Only after the Celestial Elder perished did we learn his honored name from others.”

“Which person told you of this, Senior?”

The Old Daoist Priest chuckled and stroked his beard, about to keep him guessing, but seeing Li Qiuchen’s half-smile and recalling that he could not fathom this old monster’s depth—disguised like a newly-entered Qi Refining Realm fledgling…

Like hell I believe you!

“To tell the truth, that day two Golden Core Grandmasters fought with all their might, shaking nearly all of Yunzhong County. After the Celestial Elder fell, his bodily remains split apart and fled in every direction. This poor Daoist chanced upon one piece by Opportunity.”

Split apart?

What kind of Heaven-Defying Demonic Disintegration Art is this?

Li Qiuchen, who likewise possessed the Pharmacists Blessing, pondered thoughtfully after hearing this.