Martial Arts Crossover: The Sweeping Monk of Wudang? That's our patriarch!

"When you get out, go to the Wanbao Chamber of Commerce and tell them we're dead. See you in ten years. I need to cultivate here with all my might—without strength, I won't even be able to withstand the sandstorms ten years from now."

No one knows what the fat man stumbled upon that suddenly gave him such a resolute thought. Perhaps, during the final trial, he heard something he shouldn't have.

Since they were complete strangers, there was no need for pleasantries. Lin Daochen nodded slightly to the fat man, and the Jade Emperor raised his fingertip. The void trembled, and a gate with flowing light suddenly opened, hovering steadily in front of Lin Daochen.

Without the slightest hesitation, he stepped in, and when he opened his eyes again, he had returned to the spirit world—but all around him was vast and desolate, the mountains were unfamiliar, and the clouds were strange, and he had completely lost his way.

The most urgent task is to find a secluded place to re-examine his cultivation path. After all, he has already traversed countless mountains and rivers on this path and reached the realm of celestial immortals; now, starting over, he is like an old horse that knows the way well. The difficulty lies in making choices, not in the journey itself.

This is the gift of entering the illusion—it feels like stepping into another world, traveling alone to a foreign land, where one can meditate for five hundred years, or even longer.

He chose a secluded, verdant valley, sat cross-legged on a rock, and closed his eyes to concentrate. Half a year passed quietly, and all his past memories were settled, dismantled, and reassembled. A brand-new and solid path of cultivation was slowly unfolding in his heart.

Back then, in the illusion, he relied on a barrage of elixirs to forcefully achieve the Heavenly Immortal status. However, what followed was that his cultivation was like being trapped in a quagmire, unable to make any progress—the elixir poison accumulated, his spiritual root became stagnant, and every inch of his meridians and every bit of potential was squeezed out. This method seemed like a shortcut, but in reality, it was a dead end.

Just like his delusion that he could refine his flesh and blood into a flawless magic weapon: theoretically, it was indeed possible to forge an invincible body of the same level, but the foundation was weak and the strength was exhausted. If he was not careful, his foundation would collapse and he would be doomed forever.

Would Lin Daochen repeat the same mistake?

After six months of seclusion, he had already made his decision: from now on, he would focus on cultivating the power of the Chaos Origin, removing all the old engraved array patterns from his body, leaving not even a trace.

The golden core within his abdomen was also quietly transforming—nine perfectly round and full elixir cores floated silently, like stars arrayed in the nine heavens. A slight thought stirred within him: this number had reached a critical point, making further fission and proliferation difficult.

Although his cultivation level has not advanced, his combat strength has quietly risen to the Integration stage.

Just then, a cowherd, barefoot, trudged step by step through the gravel and weeds to his side. Seeing Lin Daochen's aura flowing and his eyebrows shining from afar, the boy took off running and charged straight at him.

……

"I beg the immortal master to teach me the secret to immortality!"

The child was only five or six years old, but his eyes shone brightly, brimming with a passion and longing far beyond his years.

Lin Daochen had been cultivating in seclusion here for half a year, and the news had spread far and wide—a true cultivator had arrived in the mountain valley, detached from worldly affairs and utterly unassuming. Ordinary people revered him like a god, rarely daring to approach him, and even birds would fly around him on ordinary days. This child was specially sent by the village chief to test the waters and make an introduction.

"I want to become your apprentice! I'm willing to do anything—sweeping, carrying water, chopping wood… as long as you accept me!"

"Willing to do anything?"

Lin Daochen suddenly spoke, his voice not loud, but it made the child tremble.

"Yes! Anything is fine! I just need the immortal's approval!"

"Then—give me your right arm."

The child froze on the spot, his face turning deathly pale. He never dreamed that this kind-looking immortal could utter such terrifying words without batting an eye.

"The path of cultivation has always come with a price. If you want to attain enlightenment, you must first give up something."

The child's lips trembled, his throat tightened, and he couldn't utter a single word. Weren't immortals supposed to be compassionate and compassionate, helping and saving people? Why was he demanding his arm like he was about to kill someone?

"Immortal Master! I sincerely seek the Dao! My arm... if you truly desire it, you may take it!"

Lin Daochen laughed heartily, not out of mockery, but because he found the child's tone lively and amusing. However, he had no intention of teasing him; with a flick of his sleeve, he turned to leave.

Just then, dust billowed in the distance, and a dozen or so villagers, clutching carrying poles and hoes, rushed towards them. Lin Daochen frowned slightly, unwilling to get entangled in worldly affairs.

"Is the Immortal Master annoyed by their noise?" The child's eyes darted around, and he turned to the group, shouting, "Go back! The Immortal Master just slew a dragon and is resting! Who dares disturb his meditation? The dragon's blood hasn't even been wiped clean yet!"

A few words were enough to leave everyone bewildered, and they hurriedly turned and retreated.

The child knelt down with a thud, forehead touching the ground, his voice trembling yet unusually clear: "Please, Immortal Master, take me in!"

"So be it. Since we've bumped into each other, it's fate. I'll tap you with my finger and plant a seed of destiny—how far you go in the future depends entirely on your own efforts."

He flicked his finger, and a warm golden light seeped into the child's brow. In an instant, a spark seemed to ignite in the child's eyes, radiating a faint glow.

"Thank you, Immortal Master!"

The child skipped and ran away, his back as light as the wind. Lin Daochen watched the small figure disappear into the mountain path, and his heart suddenly relaxed—he realized that he had been so focused on climbing the peak that he had forgotten to look down at the soil beneath his feet and listen to the sounds of the wind.

He emerged from the mortal world step by step, but now he has been completely transformed. It's hard to say whether he has acquired the demeanor of an immortal or truly absorbed the clarity of an immortal.

"Perhaps the next stage of my cultivation should focus on the mind—although I currently possess nine golden cores, the path to the fusion of the body remains elusive, like viewing flowers through mist. Perhaps I should find peace and quiet to contemplate this in these vast mountains."

Lin Daochen originally planned to make a final push before heading to the lower realm, breaking through the Golden Core barrier and entering the Integration Realm. Only in this way would he dare to venture freely into the new world.

He slowly stood up, his gaze sharpening—the child had bounced back again.

"Immortal, my father asked me to tell you that there is a 'True Waterfall' deep in these mountains. Legend has it that it was left by an ancient Great Immortal who split open the mountain wall and drew water from the sky when he was in seclusion to comprehend the Dao."

He said, "Maybe it will be useful to you."

Before he finished speaking, the child had already skipped away excitedly. Lin Daochen looked in the direction he pointed and indeed saw a silver ribbon piercing through the clouds and descending straight down between the towering peaks, its sound echoing through the valleys and its power swallowing the sun and moon.

"rise!"

He flashed, a wisp of blue mist rising from beneath his feet, and suddenly arrived. Standing before the waterfall, he looked up—a hundred feet of water cascaded down, the steam boiling, crashing into the deep pool with a deafening roar, shattering into countless pieces of jade.

Lin Daochen gazed at the surging torrent, and his heart was suddenly struck by lightning: it was as if he saw a senior standing naked in the middle of the torrent a thousand years ago, letting the immense force wash over his soul, and in a moment of enlightenment, all things became clear.

The nine golden cores within his body trembled slightly, as if returning to a familiar place, or recognizing someone after a long separation. Without hesitation, he leaped into the bottom of the waterfall, letting the surging water crash down on him.

A bone-chilling cold suddenly jolted him awake. He didn't even need to use a fraction of his immortal power to protect himself—his intuition rang in his ears like a bell: this waterfall was not just water, but the key to unlocking the door to fusion.

"Young friend, how have you been?"

"Um?"

Lin Daochen suddenly turned around and saw an old man with white hair standing quietly in the middle of the waterfall, right behind him. His clothes were not wet, and his figure was ethereal, as if he did not belong to this place.

"You are...senpai?"

The old man didn't answer, but slowly stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder—in an instant, birdsong filled the air, the fragrance of flowers filled the air, and the waterfall in front of him vanished with a roar, replaced by a paradise: thousands of trees and flowers vied for beauty, hundreds of birds sang around the branches, and the sweet fragrance permeated the lungs when the wind blew by.

"This is the Realm of Truth. To ascend to the True Realm of Union, one must first see one's true nature—and the real you is right here."

The old man stood calmly at the end of the flower path. Lin Daochen looked around and saw a thatched cottage nestled among the fragrant bushes not far away, with seven-colored vines hanging from the eaves and exotic flowers clustered under the window, a beauty that seemed otherworldly.

Just then, the thatched door of the hut opened slightly, and a person slowly stepped out—his eyebrows, figure, aura, and even the folds of his robes were exactly the same as Lin Daochen's.

"I am both you and Lin Daochen. Come in."

The man turned and went back into the house, his back calm. Lin Daochen stood there for a moment, then looked up and saw the old man nodding with a smile. Finally, he stepped forward and pushed open the door to enter.

Inside, Lin Daochen sat cross-legged on a futon, an ancient chessboard lying across his lap. He raised his hand, lightly tapping an empty space with his fingertip: "Once a move is made, there's no going back. Life is like a game of chess, every move can change the course of events. Here, it's your turn."

A smile played on his lips, his eyes like a mirror. Lin Daochen didn't refuse and strolled closer to examine the situation—the endgame was now a dead end; the piece he had just placed was clearly meant to force him into a corner.

Regardless of whether they advance or retreat, they cannot escape defeat.

At this moment, the white-haired old man also stepped into the room, his hands folded in his sleeves, a smile on his face, his eyes fixed intently on him, waiting for him to make his move.

"I will not play this game." Lin Daochen's voice was clear and bright, each word like pearls falling on a jade plate. "Since I refuse the chessboard, there is no winner or loser. You have not defeated me, and I have not defeated you."

With every gesture, there was no more hindrance, as if the clouds had parted and the moon was shining, and the dust had cleared and light was shining—at that moment, he truly broke free from the cage of victory and defeat, and also jumped out of the net of obsession.

"Excellent!" The old man clapped his hands. "Good, this game is over. We neither declare a loser nor a winner. Let's start again."

"Wait a minute."

Lin Daochen smiled gently, bent down, and picked up the black and white pieces one by one, calmly arranging them in his formation. Once the last piece was placed, the tide turned dramatically, and the black pieces had a firm grasp on the winning position. He looked up, staring directly at the "himself" opposite him.

"There's no going back on a move once it's made. I've won this game."

Before he finished speaking, Lin Daochen's figure vanished like smoke, transforming into a wisp of mist. The old man clapped his hands and laughed, slowly stepping forward, his eyes full of approval.

"Indeed, the young are awe-inspiring. Life is like a game of chess: the opening moves are up to you, the moves are up to you, and the game is up to you—not being bound by old patterns or fixed rules is the true path."

"Congratulations, young friend! You've passed the first test. Come on—follow me to broaden your horizons. This second test is the real threshold to unlocking the door to fusion."

Lin Daochen's gaze sharpened as he saw the old man's figure subtly rippling, spreading out like ink into water. He pushed off with his feet and swiftly leaped out, the surrounding scenery suddenly distorting and shattering into streams of light with a deafening roar. When he looked again, he was standing atop a solitary peak.

Ahead, nine figures stood still as pines, their robes fluttering, the cold light of their swords flashing in their hands. Each of them looked exactly like Lin Daochen, and their auras were similar, but their eyes were sharp and all locked onto him.

The old man stood with his hands behind his back, a slight smile on his lips, his expression serene.

"These nine are all manifestations of your original essence, and their combat power is no less than yours. If you defeat them, you will break through the barrier and enter the unified body; if you lose them, the mental barrier will be difficult to dispel."

Lin Daochen's heart skipped a beat. He scanned the area with his divine sense but couldn't distinguish between reality and illusion—was it a mirror image? A demon in his heart? Or the real self that had been torn apart?

He took a step forward, and nine figures simultaneously raised their eyes, their brows relaxed, their expressions varied: some were gentle and smiling, some looked down coldly, some had a mocking smile on their lips, some had their Adam's apple bob slightly as if they wanted to growl... It was as if nine different personalities had broken free from his very bones and blood.

"I am 'Goodness'." The leader stepped forward lightly, his sleeves fluttering, and a blue light spread like water, silently enveloping Lin Daochen's limbs and bones. The pressure was as dense as a mountain crushing down, but it did not carry a trace of violence.

Lin Daochen's forehead was beaded with sweat, but he suddenly smiled with narrowed eyes: "As expected, you are of the same level as me... But this attack, with its gentleness concealing weakness, clearly shows that you are unwilling to hurt anyone—so, this is 'goodness'."

Before he finished speaking, he flipped his palm, unleashing his sword intent. With the word "Slash!" he uttered, and a blazing white sword aura cleaved through the air, tearing apart the blue light and instantly obliterating the "good" figure.

Before the echo had even faded, a dark figure suddenly sprang from the side, its fist carrying a chilling, murderous aura, aimed straight for his throat: "You're courting death!"

Lin Daochen turned his head sharply, and the fabric of his clothes on the side of his neck tore open in three places, letting the cold air brush against his skin.

The other figures also slowly surrounded them, their steps steady, their killing intent growing stronger.

"I am 'evil'."

"I am greedy."

"I am a fraud."

"I am 'Kill'."

Four voices rang out one after another, cold and hard like iron nails hitting the ground. Lin Daochen's throat tightened—he had already been in grave danger fighting one person, and now he was surrounded by enemies on all sides. How could he possibly defend himself?

He subconsciously turned to look at the old man, but the man only stroked his beard and smiled, his eyes indifferent, as if to say: The road is under your own feet.

"Young friend, achieving fusion is not so easy," the old man said slowly, lightly tapping the air with his fingertips. "I brought you here not to force you to pass this test today. If you feel you are not strong enough, you may retreat for now and come again another day."

He sat cross-legged, his robes billowing like clouds, a hint of cunning in his smile.