The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

Upon hearing Xuan Yangzi's words, Wang Zhenhuan was immediately startled. It was only past the hour of Yin (3-5 AM), and the sun hadn't even risen yet. Why would commoners choose this time to go up the mountain?

Moreover, this was Jeju Island, not territory controlled by the Jurchens. Puzzled, he rose and pressed his ear against the palace door to listen. All he heard was the sound of pouring rain. He stood up and looked out through the door; it was pitch black outside.

Wang Zhenhuan was uneasy, so he opened the door and walked out of the main hall to the temple gate. As soon as he came out, he saw a large group of soldiers and warriors climbing the mountain path.

The man at the head was the same one from yesterday, the one on the platform. Judging from the movement of the group, he must be the leader. All of them were carrying weapons and wearing raincoats, as if they were going to war.

Have the Jurchens invaded Jeju Island?

That was the first thought that popped into his mind. Ignoring the heavy rain, he rushed forward, grabbed a soldier, and whispered, "Sir, have the Jurchens attacked?"

As he spoke, he slipped a few copper coins from his sleeve. The soldier was about the same age as Wang Zhenhuan and stood at the end of the line. He was initially a little impatient when Wang Zhenhuan stopped him.

His expression softened upon seeing the copper coin. He took it and cautiously glanced at the line. Once he was sure no one was watching, he took Wang Zhenhuan's hand and led him into the courtyard, where he spoke to him.

"There's no golden man at all. It's all because of these officials causing trouble. They sent people up the mountain before dawn, saying they'd found the trail of the young Taoist who had fought with the eminent monk Faming."

"What kind of magical duel?" Wang Zhenhuan was taken aback, and then asked.

"Oh dear, it's all because of that so-called 'True Scripture,' you don't know? A few days ago, they discovered a tomb, and they say there's a scripture left by immortals inside. If you learn it, you can become an immortal."

These officials are all dreaming of becoming immortals. They're finding all sorts of ways to torment us this early in the morning. Sigh, never mind, I'll fall behind soon." The soldier waved to Wang Zhenhuan and jogged to catch up with the group.

Upon hearing the soldier mention the words "true scripture," a thought struck him, and he immediately remembered the scripture that Master Xuan Yangzi had given him. He recalled that the master had once said that the original copy of this book had been destroyed on its own when it was rediscovered.

Could it be...? He returned to the main hall, his heart heavy with worry, and told Daoist Xuan Yangzi what had happened. Daoist Xuan Yangzi pondered for a moment, then said to him, "Pack your things, let's leave."

Upon hearing Xuan Yangzi's words, Wang Zhenhuan immediately understood. Although it was still raining outside, he didn't ask any more questions. After packing his things, he helped Daoist Xuan Yangzi leave the City God Temple.

It was pitch black outside, and rain was pouring down. Neither of them had any raincoats to shield them from the rain. They were quickly soaked to the bone, but Wang Zhenzhen supported Xuan Yangzi without uttering a sound.

He continued south until sunrise at dawn. The heavy rain finally stopped. The rain itself wasn't unbearable; what was unbearable was being soaked to the bone. The cool autumn wind felt like it was scraping his flesh, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably.

Xuan Yangzi, who was standing nearby, quickly noticed this. He grabbed Wang Huanzhen's hand and found it to be ice-cold. He then said, "Let's stop here. Find a dry place to dry your clothes first, and then we'll continue."

"Master, I...I'm alright..."

Wang Huanzhen said in a trembling voice. From his conversation with the soldiers and Xuan Yangzi's actions, it wasn't hard to guess that what these soldiers and martial artists were looking for was very likely the true scripture that Master Xuan Yangzi had given him.

"There's no rush, go ahead," Master Xuan Yangzi patted Wang Zhenhuan's hand, comforting him. Wang Zhenhuan agreed, helped Master Xuan Yangzi to the foot of a tree, and then ran into the forest.

After the rain, the roads were muddy and difficult to walk on. The fallen leaves and branches on the ground were also wet, and Wang Zhenhuan searched three or four places but couldn't find a good place to step. His damp clothes clung to his body like blocks of ice.

Just as he was feeling disheartened and about to return home, he suddenly discovered a recently abandoned mortuary. Wang Zhen was overjoyed, for mortuaries were quite common in the Song Dynasty at that time.

Although the mortuary wasn't large, at least there was a room that could provide shelter from the wind and rain. He made sure the door wasn't locked. He then retraced his steps, returned to the roadside, and brought Xuan Yangzi over.

On either side of the courtyard of the mortuary were two shacks, piled high with firewood. These must have been left behind when the owner was still alive, which conveniently benefited Wang Zhenhuan. After carrying the firewood into the shack, he lit a fire with trembling hands.

The flickering flames seemed to dispel his chill. There's a saying that life is nothing more than firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, and tea, and there's a reason why firewood is ranked first.

The earthen stove in the mortuary room was very useful. In less than a quarter of an hour, the whole room warmed up, and a wave of heat hit him, making him feel like he had been reborn.

Seeing that Xuan Yangzi was meditating, Wang Huanzhen didn't disturb him. He got up and went outside to fetch some more firewood. Just as he had gathered some and was about to return, he suddenly heard voices coming from outside the courtyard.

He and Xuan Yangzi had set off in the rain when they suddenly heard voices, and he was startled. A piece of firewood fell from his hand, and he heard a young voice outside asking a question.

"May I ask if anyone is at this mortuary? My brothers and I would like to rest here for a while. Would that be convenient?"

Upon hearing that they were in a hurry, Wang Zhenhuan breathed a sigh of relief, bent down to pick up the fallen firewood, and addressed the door, saying, "It's alright, we're just passing by. Please come in."

As Wang Zhenhuan finished speaking, two middle-aged men dressed as martial artists appeared outside the door. They were travel-worn and soaked to the bone, with identical long swords hanging at their waists.

Upon seeing Wang Huanzhen, the two men cupped their hands in thanks and said, "Thank you, young brother." "Thank you!"

"Come on, my master and I were just passing by and we just started a fire." Wang Zhenhuan smiled and nodded, then led them into the house.

"That's great! Better late than never, haha." The middle-aged man at the head of the group replied, and then followed Wang Zhenhuan into the house. As soon as they entered, they saw Xuan Yangzi meditating.

The two were stunned. Although Wang Zhenhuan had said that his master was still in the room, they did not expect that there was a white-haired Taoist priest in the room, and he was blind.

Seeing the two men stunned, Wang Huanzhen realized the situation was somewhat awkward. He quickly whispered to them, "My master has an eye ailment and dislikes noise. I hope you two gentlemen will refrain from shouting."

"That's natural, that's natural..." the two replied, and then went to the other side of the house, warming themselves by the fire while whispering something. Wang Zhenhuan added some firewood to the earthen stove.

He then sat down next to Xuan Yangzi. Although he didn't have the habit of prying into gossip, the room was unusually quiet at the moment, so the whispers between the two were clearly audible.

Wang Huanzhen listened to them, seemingly tracking someone. Because of the rain, their tracks had disappeared, and he had come here after seeing the smoke. He was about to close his eyes to rest when he vaguely heard one of them say the words "True Scripture."

Normally, Wang Zhenhuan might not have cared about these two words. But after what just happened, he is now extremely sensitive to them.

He feigned rest, but actually pricked up his ears to listen carefully to the conversation between the two martial artists. Gradually, he discerned some clues in their conversation.

The appearance of numerous terms such as "tomb" and "Taoist" made Wang Zhenhuan secretly alarmed. If the "true scripture" only made him somewhat sensitive, then the association with "Taoist" was enough to make him wary.

Because he was too far away from the two martial artists, and the flames in the earthen stove were crackling, he couldn't hear them very clearly. He looked up at Xuan Yangzi, and seeing that he didn't react, he picked up the water bag, got up, and walked towards the two men.

"Brothers, would you like some water? I still have quite a bit left here," Wang Zhenhuan asked with a simple, honest smile and a slightly exaggerated air of concern.

"Thank you, young brother. But we have brought our own drinking water when we're out and about," one of the bearded men said, patting Wang Huanzhen on the shoulder.

Wang Zhenhuan sat down beside them, feigning curiosity, and asked, "May I ask you two brave warriors if I may be so bold as to inquire? You were just talking about a tomb or something; could you tell me about it?"

"Well, it's not exactly a secret. Everyone in Jeju City knows about it now. I might as well tell you. I heard that the tomb of a disciple of Laozi has been discovered outside Jeju City."

"They said there was a true scripture inside that could make us immortal, so we've been heading north. But we haven't even seen what the tomb looks like! What bad luck!" The man slapped his thigh, quite indignantly.

"That's right. I heard from the people in the city that the tomb was discovered because the abbot of Jin Guang Temple, the eminent monk Fa Ming, was fighting with a young Taoist priest, and the noise startled the nearby people," said the tall, thin man next to the burly man.

"The Venerable Master Faming? Is he the one who gave a sermon in the city a few days ago?" Wang Zhenhuan was taken aback and asked subconsciously.

"That's him. I heard from people from nearby sects that when they arrived at the tomb, the old monk Faming and the young Taoist were locked in a fierce battle. They were truly like immortals," the bearded man continued.

"Bullshit! That monk Faming was just relying on his copper head and iron body to charge around recklessly. In the end, wasn't he still defeated by that young Taoist priest using magic and heavenly lightning?" the tall, thin man said, somewhat unconvinced.

"Tch, what's the use of making a big show of things? I heard that Taoist priest is dead? I think they're right, the true scriptures were obtained by the eminent monk Faming. Otherwise, he wouldn't have suddenly held a Dharma assembly in the city." The bearded man shook his head.

"Who can say for sure? It's a pity for that young Taoist. If he could have cultivated for a few more years, he might not have been afraid of that monk Faming..." the tall, thin man said with a hint of regret.

Both men were martial artists, and they spoke and acted as they pleased. After becoming familiar with Wang Zhenhuan, they poured out their grievances and liked to pat him on the shoulder frequently, which Wang Zhenhuan, with his small frame, couldn't withstand after a few times.

After exchanging a few casual words with the two men, he rose to return home, but suddenly an idea struck him. He stopped and looked at them, asking, "I'm just curious, so I'll ask you a question. May I ask, gentlemen, what is the name of that true scripture?"

"I've heard people mention it; it seems to be called something like the 'True Scripture of Primordial Qi'!"