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

"Bah! You call yourself an immortal, yet you can't even guide the way. What kind of true cultivator are you?"

"You're just putting on a show! Today I'll tear off your 'immortal' name and stick it on the toilet door as a talisman!"

Rotten vegetable scraps, rotten eggs, and mud balls rained down on him as the crowd drew closer, their spittle almost hitting his face.

Lin Daochen's knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, but he forced himself to swallow the blood back down.

To take action? No. If an immortal attacks a mortal, they will become an enemy of the cultivation world and find it difficult to maintain their position.

Fleeing? Even more difficult. His identity has been revealed, and people will speak for themselves. Tomorrow, the news will likely be spreading for miles around: "A fake immortal appeared in Tianshan, and the people drove him down the mountain!"

The most fatal thing is that the secret to becoming an immortal has always been hidden in the dust and smoke, and no one knows it; if this group of people embellish what they have seen and heard and spread it, the rumors will spread like wildfire and burn away half of his life's reputation.

He looked up at the clouds and mist on the mountaintop, then looked down at the throng of people, and slowly closed his eyes.

In the distance, the Heavenly Immortal sat in his Golden Palace, lightly touching the surface of the void with his fingertips, taking in Lin Daochen's embarrassing situation.

"Heh... It's a dead end either way." A slight smile played on his lips, his laughter chilling. "If you walk away, the rumors will spread throughout the seventy-two peaks in three days; if you raise your hand to kill—"

He paused, and dozens of synchronized images were suddenly projected onto the screen behind him, each clearly showing Lin Daochen's face. "I'll show the entire cultivation world how so-called 'immortals' crush mortal bones."

A burst of wild laughter erupted inside the hall, making the copper bells on the eaves ring. The young Taoist boy guarding the gate quietly took two steps back, a layer of fine sweat beading on the back of his neck.

The immortals of Tianshan have always been like this—they don't make a move unless it's absolutely necessary, but when they do, it's sure to bring utter destruction to those who dare to act.

This time, Lin Daochen ran right into his trap, and he was doomed.

On the mountain path, Lin Daochen remained standing, his robes fluttering in the mountain wind. He was surrounded by a dense crowd, unable to retreat or fight back, and even frowning had to suppress his anger.

"Sigh..." He sighed inwardly, "I never expected that a dignified cultivator would be stuck on this dirt road, unable to move forward or backward."

After a moment of stalemate, he suddenly loosened his clenched fist and raised his hand toward the crowd—not to drive them away, nor to cast a spell, but rather as if he were preparing to lay out his intentions and make things clear.

"I can't control what you're all thinking. But the current situation is clear—whoever doesn't get a satisfactory explanation won't be leaving this Tianshan Mountain. Don't you all agree?"

A murmur rippled through the crowd, and everyone nodded in agreement. Yes, those words struck a chord. Without a proper explanation, no one was going to walk away today.

"Alright, then tell us, how are you going to settle this today? If you're trying to fool us, we'll turn around and head down the mountain, exposing everything you've done in Tianshan! Then cultivators, rogue cultivators, and wandering knights from all directions will flock here, and we'll see if you can still meditate, refine pills, and cultivate your spirit in this misty, cloud-shrouded place!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than the Heavenly Immortal on the distant peak twitched his brow and nearly choked—oh dear, what a blunder! He had forgotten that this was his own territory. But then he thought, oh well, even if these mortals came, they wouldn't even know which way the mountain gate faced, let alone find his trail.

He regained his composure, his gaze returning to Lin Daochen. By this time, the crowd had completely surrounded him, chattering and spitting, their fingers poking at Lin Daochen's nose, all their anger burning towards him.

Lin Daochen's chest heaved, and the veins on his forehead throbbed slightly. Looking at the distorted and anxious faces before him, he suddenly felt a surge of immortal light around him, bursting forth like a tidal wave. With a loud "bang," everyone was thrown to the ground like kites with broken strings.

But instead of retreating, their eyes shone brightly, and they trembled with excitement: "So this is immortal energy? It really has such power!"

"We absolutely cannot go back empty-handed! If we can seize even a single thread, my life will have been worthwhile!"

Their smiles were sinister, their eyes greedy like wolves eyeing their prey. In their eyes, Lin Daochen was no longer a living person, but a steaming, glistening piece of fat meat, which they wished they could tear off and swallow whole.

For them, the ethereal aura was the mist of legends, the incense burned in temples, something they had never touched, never seen, and dared not even utter aloud. Some had only heard their ancestors mention it once, while others had never even heard of it.

Just as Lin Daochen was about to take to the air and escape, he suddenly heard a loud shout from afar: "Yang Kai—!"

His body stiffened abruptly, and his pupils contracted.

Those who cultivate the Tao sever all worldly ties, leaving no trace, yet some attachments remain hidden—for example, Yang Kai, who was his personally taught disciple. He himself could travel by wind and cover thousands of miles in an instant, while Yang Kai had only just begun his cultivation journey, his progress was slow, his foundation shallow, and he was burdened with his entire family living in a town at the foot of the mountain.

Since the other party knew Yang Kai's name, it was as if they had his weakness in their grasp: if they turned against him today, someone would block his door tomorrow and hold a knife to the necks of his apprentice's parents.

Lin Daochen's expression calmed down, though his anger hadn't subsided, it had turned icy cold. In his eyes, those kneeling faces clamoring for immortality had completely lost their humanity, becoming nothing more than livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

He slowly brought his palms together, clenching them in mid-air—

boom!

Blood mist exploded, limbs flew everywhere, and only specks of crimson and charred black remained on the muddy ground.

At the summit, the immortal of Tianshan suddenly opened his eyes wide, stared blankly for a long time, then suddenly threw his head back and laughed loudly, the sound of which shook the pine needles and caused them to fall in a rustling sound.

"Brilliant! Lin Daochen is even more ruthless than I imagined... This is perfect! In less than three days, the name 'Blood Slaughter of Tianshan' will spread throughout the cultivation world, and everyone will call him a wicked star in Taoist robes!"

He slammed his hand on the table, stood up, and called out loudly towards the door.

The boy rushed in at the sound of the command, but his knees buckled and he fell heavily to the ground, his body trembling like a withered leaf in the autumn wind—the immortal of Tianshan was known for his unpredictable temper, so how could he dare to raise his head?

"What orders does the immortal have? I overheard everything you said outside the door. Wherever you point, I will do it without hesitation."

The immortal from Tianshan waved his hand. He usually loved to tease the boy, but now he was too lazy to waste his breath. He reached into his robes, took out a crystal ball, and with a magic incantation, it landed steadily in the boy's palm.

The boy looked down, his face full of surprise and doubt: "Immortal, isn't this a recording mirror? Could it be... that you intend to use it against Lin Daochen?"

The immortal from Tianshan nodded, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

"This crystal ball contains a record of Lin Daochen's recent massacre of mortals—if you spread it, he'll find it impossible to even find a foothold in the cultivation world. Go, take care of this matter, and I'll give you the antidote myself."

Upon hearing this, the boy's expression suddenly relaxed, and the string that had been taut for a hundred years in his heart began to loosen. He had been abducted to the mountain by a celestial being from Tianshan as a child and made to serve as his personal attendant. But this "celestial being" was ruthless and had planted a bone-corroding poison in his body in his early years, forcing him to take specially made pills to maintain his boyish body—all for the sake of easy manipulation and control.

For the past hundred years, on the first day of each month, he had to kneel before the Golden Hall, hold a black pill in both hands, and swallow it to save his life for a month. He dared not disobey or doubt the words of the Heavenly Mountain Immortal, so he simply bowed his head in agreement, clutched the crystal ball tightly, and hurriedly left the hall.

Stepping out of the Golden Palace, he first focused his attention on the image in the sphere: flames soared into the sky, ruins lay in ruins, people fled and cried out, while Lin Daochen stood on a high cliff, his sleeves fluttering, lightning crackling at his fingertips... The boy's throat tightened, and he gasped.

This is hardly the work of slaying demons and monsters; it's indiscriminate slaughter! What puzzles him even more is that Lin Daochen is known as the "Sword Lord of Righteousness," always protecting the common people. How could he suddenly transform into an Asura? If this is true, his reputation in the Three Realms will be ruined, his Dao foundation will be shaken, and he might not even be able to take another step onto the Ascension Platform.

He hesitated for a moment, then decided to obey. But before leaving, he wanted to see this person with his own eyes—what kind of face did he have that he could do such a thing? The trajectory reflected in the crystal ball was clear: Lin Daochen was sitting alone at the foot of Tianshan Mountain, his back desolate, seemingly meditating, or perhaps just sitting in meditation. The boy dared not delay, exerting force with his feet, pushing his Divine Speed ​​Technique to its limit.

His figure darted down the treacherous peak like an arrow released from a bow. The Tianshan Mountains twist and turn, a climb that would take ordinary people several days to complete, yet he reached the foot of the mountain in mere moments. The people who had surrounded Lin Daochen had come with their families, risking their lives, but now their bodies lay strewn across the desolate path, their elderly and weak still anxiously awaiting their return—this bloodshed had already sown the seeds of a catastrophe.

Following the winding path, the boy indeed saw the man: sitting cross-legged on a blue stone, his eyes closed, his face calm to the point of being cold and hard, as if the surrounding mountain wind, birdsong, and even life and death were none of his concern.

The boy's lips curled slightly as he stepped forward, cupping his hands in a smile: "Fellow Daoist Lin Daochen, I've long admired you. I never expected to meet you here. What I saw in the crystal ball just now was truly eye-opening—you personally burned a hundred lives; aren't you afraid of being scorned by the people and the collapse of your lineage?"

Lin Daochen didn't open his eyes, but his aura deepened. He had sensed the presence of the person who came earlier, but he was unwilling to open his eyes—what floated before his eyes were still those faces screaming and turning to ashes, charred and curled hands, and swaddling clothes that hadn't even hit the ground... His mind was in turmoil, and even his spiritual center was clouded.

His voice was low and hoarse, yet every word was clear: "They came with knives, their intent to kill was firm. I showed no mercy, nor did I shirk my responsibility. I acknowledge the debts I owe; I accept the punishment I deserve."

The boy paused, a sense of respect rising within him. But the Heavenly Mountain Immortal's command was like a branding iron searing his spine, allowing no room for hesitation. He clasped his hands in a respectful bow, his tone gentle: "In that case, fellow Daoist, please calm your mind and regulate your breathing. Fluctuations in mental state are common in cultivation. Once you regain your clarity, perhaps a new opportunity will arise. Farewell."

After speaking, he turned and left. Not long after, he used a secret technique to activate the crystal ball, turning the image into thousands of streams of light that fell to the mortal world. In an instant, the blurry yet ferocious face of the immortal appeared everywhere—in the mansions of princes and nobles, in the teahouses of the city, and in the military tents at the border—along with the sky bursting with crimson fire rain.

The people were dumbfounded. The "Immortal Venerable of the Upper Realm" they had once worshipped was actually the butcher who had wiped out the city with a flick of his sleeve? The clay statues with golden incense enshrined in the once-prosperous Taoist temples and shrines suddenly became cold and glaring. Angry curses swept across the land overnight, the imperial court was furious, and proclamations flew towards the Tianshan Mountains like snowflakes.

Even more astonishingly, the surging resentment pierced through the clouds and rushed straight to the divine realm—incense in temples everywhere suddenly went out, and believers wielded sticks and hammers, smashing shrines and shattering memorial tablets; statues once revered as gods were now littered with mud and spittle. People's reverence for immortals and Buddhas was peeling away inch by inch, revealing the burning hatred beneath.

Haha, as Lin Daochen personally demolished one temple after another, the power of the wishes that the gods who had been worshipped were rapidly depleted like the receding tide—after all, the power of the gods is mostly tied to the awe and piety in the hearts of mortals.

Now that people have stopped burning incense, stopped kneeling and worshipping, and stopped reciting prayers, the divine power has collapsed in an instant; if this continues, I'm afraid even the divine name will be erased from the heavenly register, and the deity will be dragged down from the altar and banished to a desolate shrine.

In an instant, the gods could no longer sit still. They tore through the clouds and shattered the void, heading straight for Lin Daochen, demanding that he admit his mistake and give an explanation.