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

Lin Daochen's eyes turned cold. The thought of killing him arose, yet he couldn't suppress it. To act now would surely backfire. If the Heavenly Emperor used this as an excuse to cripple his foundation under the pretext of "insubordination," he would lose even his foothold in the Heavenly Court.

"Consider yourself lucky today," he uttered coldly, then turned and left, his robes fluttering like knives. "If it weren't for the Heavenly Emperor stopping you—your head would already be hanging outside the Southern Heavenly Gate."

The immortal of Tianshan stands atop the precipice, his figure like a thorn, piercing between the sky and the earth, impossible to remove or heal.

Above the clouds, the Heavenly Emperor gazed upon this scene and sighed silently.

"Even I, the Emperor, am not free to act as I please... These three realms have never been ruled by just me. Those reclusive ancient gods, operating outside the laws, are the true players in this game, secretly manipulating the situation."

"Lin Daochen, don't blame me for standing idly by... If there is even the slightest chance to protect you, I am willing to take off this imperial crown for you."

He shook his head gently, no longer thinking about Lin Daochen's situation.

Time passed quietly. After leaving the foot of Tianshan Mountain, Lin Daochen did not delay for a moment and went straight to the world in the painting—he had to meet the Kunlun Immortal and explain the whole series of changes to him in detail, and ask for a conclusion: whether his actions and decisions were right or wrong?

The landscape along the way was like a long scroll of ink painting, with verdant peaks and cascading waterfalls. The wind carried the scent of pine resin and the mist of cold pools, brushing against his face inch by inch, stirring his heart and soul.

The deeper he delved into cultivation, the more he felt an indescribable intimacy between heaven and earth—as if the mountains were his bones, the clouds his breath, and even the wind that brushed past his ears was like the whisper of an old friend.

He lay reclining on a soft cloud, gazing up at the sky, his brows slightly furrowed. Too many unresolved questions swirled in his mind: Who established these ironclad rules? Why must even the Heavenly Emperor bow down in obedience, daring not to disobey in the slightest?

Logically, the Heavenly Emperor, who rules the Three Realms, holds the power of life and death in his hands. Yet, he himself admitted that there are some things that even he cannot touch or change…

Isn't this strange? What kind of power is it that is secretly weaving this invisible giant net, binding all the heavens and myriad worlds so tightly?

He sat motionless on the cloud for a long time, his thoughts churning, completely unaware that the sun was setting. When he came to his senses, dusk had fallen, and only a sliver of pale gold remained on the horizon. In a flash, he landed before that familiar waterfall.

The roar of the water was thunderous, and the spray of water continued as before. But the person guarding this place had changed—the child who had once stood on tiptoe to look was nowhere to be seen. In its place was a middle-aged man with a beard, a warm smile, and a hint of respect in his eyes.

"Immortal, you've finally arrived!" The man quickly stepped forward, cupped his hands in greeting, and said, "I have been ordered by the Immortal Kunlun to wait for you here for a long time. There are a few important things that I must personally entrust to you."

Lin Daochen hesitated for a moment, then finally reached out and took it. It was a plain silk scroll, cool to the touch, with fine lines, and sealed with a small cloud-shaped seal, its contents unknown.

But he knew in his heart that since it came from the hands of the immortal Kunlun, it must not be an ordinary gift.

He subconsciously lifted a corner of the scroll, his gaze sweeping over the page before he abruptly closed it again. The person opposite him, who was peeking in, paused upon seeing him, scratched his head, and smiled wryly: "Is this treasure so precious? Not even allowed a glimpse? Could it be a warning sent to you by a celestial being from Tianshan?"

Lin Daochen gave him a cold glance but didn't answer. This man was too talkative and his question was really presumptuous.

"What you need to know, you will know; what you shouldn't ask, don't ask a single question." His voice wasn't loud, but every word was firm. "Now, just shut up, turn around, and leave. Understand?"

The man shrank back and nodded hastily, "What you say is true, senior! This junior will take his leave now!" Although he was full of suspicion, he knew that he was just a messenger and errand boy, and it was not his place to ask questions.

Before leaving, he paused again, lowered his voice, and added, "The Immortal Kunlun specifically instructed that this scroll must be read carefully. If you can understand its mysteries, all the troubles that follow will naturally come to light."

Before the words were finished, the person had already drifted away, leaving Lin Daochen standing alone in front of the waterfall, stunned and speechless.

He approached the water curtain and gently touched it—the water shimmered, and a mist washed over him, but there was no further movement. The door to the world in the painting seemed to have been quietly erased without a trace.

He tried three more times, tracing the void with his fingertips and urging it with his mind, but all he could hear was the roar of water, and he could not find any trace of the entrance.

Lin Daochen remained silent for a moment, then finally let out a soft sigh.

Well then, there's no need to force it. I came here seeking guidance, and since the immortal is temporarily withdrawing, let us each make our own arrangements. Ultimately, the path ahead is up to us to decide.

He slowly opened his hands, the lines on his palms clearly visible, with a faint light seeming to move between the veins. The power had changed—it was no longer the brute force that used to split mountains and shatter rocks, but something deeper, calmer, and more expansive, as if with each breath he resonated with the heavens and earth.

So this is what the Great Dao looks like.

It is silent, yet it determines life and death, yin and yang, and governs all things. Now, this power has firmly taken root in his flesh and blood.

What's there to hesitate about?

He turned and left, his sleeves brushing against the mist, his figure gradually disappearing into the vast mountain scenery—to find a secluded valley, sit quietly, contemplate, and understand this new world inch by inch.

He gritted his teeth and secretly vowed that in the days to come, he would be single-minded and focus solely on comprehending the subtle resonance between the Great Dao and himself—perhaps one day a flash of inspiration would strike him and he would truly discover his own unique understanding of the Dao.

Once he made up his mind, he turned and left. He couldn't enter the waterfall, nor could he return to the real world, so he might as well cast aside all distractions and focus on doing what needed to be done.

Time flowed by quietly. Lin Daochen walked slowly along the mountain path, and after a few hundred steps, he arrived at the foot of another mountain.

This waterfall is suspended on the top of a low mountain. Looking around, the peaks are scattered: some rise thousands of feet from the ground, as majestic as mountains; others are exquisite and delicate, like green snails.

He hadn't walked far when his feet touched the gravel and moss at the foot of a new mountain. Suddenly, he felt a tremor in his body, as if something unusual was happening.

The feeling was strange and unfamiliar, but Lin Daochen didn't even have time to think about it. His body had already tensed up and become alert because a faint but familiar aura was swirling around him.

Who is it? His heart skipped a beat, and his brows furrowed: This aura... is exactly the same as Shen Gongbao's! When he first met Shen Gongbao, it was this kind of composure that revealed his cunning, and his gentleness that concealed his sharpness, that made him unforgettable.

What startled him even more was that Jiang Ziya's aura had quietly surfaced beside him.

He suddenly turned around—and sure enough, a thin old man in a plain robe stood three steps away with a smile, his gaze as gentle as spring water, his smile full of warmth.

Jiang Ziya's natural affinity never needed any words; just by standing there, people would unconsciously lower their guard and feel no sense of distance.

The old man spoke first, his voice as gentle as a pine breeze: "Young man, you've suffered these past few days! You've lost quite a bit of weight. Don't let this little bit of hardship break your back—if it really defeats you, wouldn't it be a waste of your strong bones and passionate heart?"

Lin Daochen looked up and met that kind, smiling face. His throat tightened, his eyes burned, and tears almost welled up. He bit his lower lip to swallow back the sobs and asked in a low voice, "Senior...you've been watching all this?"

Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao exchanged a knowing smile and laughed heartily.

"You clever child! We were indeed watching you from the shadows. We also received word of the Thousand Mountain Immortal's appearance long ago."

"He has a very powerful background—the Ziwei Emperor stands behind him, a revered deity among the Three Pure Ones and Five Emperors who reigns over a region! It's certainly not a wise move to provoke him. However..." Jiang Ziya's eyes flashed with a sharp light, "We do have a way to teach this 'Heavenly Mountain Immortal' a lesson without offending the Ziwei Emperor."

Lin Daochen was taken aback: "Immortal of Tianshan?" How did he become "Immortal of Tianshan" again?

I overheard people whispering that this person was the illegitimate son of the Ziwei Emperor. Because of his awkward status, no one dared to reveal it, so he simply hid in the lower realm, mingling among ordinary cultivators and pretending to be an ordinary rogue cultivator.

Now, a thousand years later, he has reached the Integration Stage and possesses profound cultivation. Lin Daochen frowned, pondering: what should he do now?

"Speaking of which, this matter is quite interesting," Shen Gongbao suddenly interjected, his tone playful. "The immortals of Tianshan are ultimately not of the same ilk as us, don't you think?"

"But I really can't understand it—how can a heart be so vicious? Can such a person truly stand in this world for long?"

"It's not hard to understand... After all, he has powerful backers." Lin Daochen shook his head and smiled bitterly, his chest filled with resentment, but he knew that it was useless to be angry in vain—this matter was too deep to be shaken by one person's strength, nor could it be rewritten by a surge of passion.

Jiang Ziya and Shen Gongbao fell silent for a moment. How could they not understand? This powerlessness and frustration had been repeatedly worn down and eroded on their respective paths thousands of years ago.

If you wish to attain immortality and seek enlightenment, you must first swallow bitter medicine that is difficult for ordinary people to swallow; if you cannot even endure this little bit of torment, becoming an immortal? That is nothing but a fool's dream.

"Then, young brother," Jiang Ziya asked gently again, "now that you know he is backed by the Ziwei Emperor, an existence you can only look up to—is your resolve still as firm as before?"

Lin Daochen's lips moved slightly, but he didn't utter a single word. Just then, at the bend in the mountain path in the distance, a child with pigtails skipped over, his steps light as a frolic, humming a clear nursery rhyme.

"Sun Wukong, Sun Wukong, with his seventy-two transformations at his fingertips, he can stir up storms in the Heavenly Court without batting an eye—Sun Wukong is the most resolute and unparalleled hero in our hearts!"

The child hummed a tune and skipped over, his shoes making a crackling sound on the bluestone slabs. Suddenly, he stopped beside Jiang Ziya and slapped him on the back of the head with a sharp, clean sound. The sound startled the several elders leading the team, who all gasped in surprise and their sleeves trembled.

Good heavens! This is Jiang Ziya! The elder who once held the reins of the Investiture of the Gods, appointing and bestowing titles upon countless celestial officials with a single stroke of his vermilion brush. This kid is so audacious he dares to slap him on the head? He's probably about to be struck by lightning and have thunderbolts strike him from the next second!

Just as Jiang Ziya lowered his head and covered his face, making it impossible for Lin Daochen to see his expression, Shen Gongbao suddenly threw his head back and laughed, his laughter hearty yet tinged with a hint of mischief: "Oh, senior brother, don't put on that stern face like Yama! This junior has just entered the sect, his bones haven't hardened yet, if you keep scaring him like that, you might scare his soul out of his body!"

Lin Daochen was stunned on the spot, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets—what? Senior Jiang was just... teasing him? He subconsciously shook his head, speechless for a moment, thinking to himself, could this white-haired old immortal be a mischievous child who loves to hide candied hawthorns at heart?