One person: Lu Jin, do I look like your master?

He was just an ordinary person with good luck, whose biggest advantage was the mysterious "sign-in system" and the experience orbs obtained from it.

Nowadays, in areas involving fundamental innovation, the direct help that the system can provide seems to have become limited. It's more like he's feeling his way across a river, and he has to be careful and verify every step repeatedly.

"Did the founder of the Sanyi Sect really only pass down the 'Triple Rebirth Technique' back then?"

A somewhat disrespectful thought quietly surfaced.

The more Wang Xuan delved into the mysteries of the Reverse Rebirth Triple Technique, the more he felt that although this technique was powerful and mysterious, its approach seemed to focus more on the ultimate "technique" and "skill".

The focus on how to "reverse" one's own state back to its innate state is more like a powerful "means" for fighting enemies and protecting one's life.

He suddenly remembered the classic novel "Journey to the West" that he had read.

"If we use this as a metaphor, this triple rebirth is more like Sun Wukong's 'seventy-two transformations'."

It is a magical method used to deal with the three calamities and dangers, and it is indeed miraculous in avoiding disasters and calamities.

However, it doesn't seem to be like the 'Great Celestial Immortal Technique,' which directly leads to the Primordial Dao Fruit, a fundamental cultivation method that points directly to the Great Dao.

Wang Xuan even thought somewhat absurdly:

"Could it be that when the founder of the Sanyi Sect ascended to heaven, he was in such a hurry that he only had time to leave behind the 'Seventy-Two Transformations' for protection and combat, but did not explain the core 'Great Celestial Immortal Technique' clearly?"

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but shake his head, suppressing the slight smile that had been aroused by this nonsensical idea.

Such speculation about the ancients is truly inappropriate, and it is merely a form of self-deprecation born out of his fruitless pondering.

Suppressing these chaotic thoughts for the time being, Wang Xuan stood up.

Prolonged periods of quiet contemplation, while not physically demanding, are quite mentally taxing.

He pushed open the door and went out.

It was already evening, and the afterglow of the setting sun painted the sky a brilliant orange-red. Smoke curled from the chimneys in the valley, carrying the fresh scent of earth and vegetation.

It was invigorating. Wang Xuan took a deep breath of the crisp mountain air and felt a rare sense of relaxation and comfort.

He decided to take a walk around the village, both to stretch his muscles and to familiarize himself with his temporary place of refuge.

Wang Xuan strolled along the flagstone path in the village.

Biyou Village is not large in scale, but it is ingeniously laid out. Most of the houses are built against the mountains and by the water, blending into the natural environment.

The villagers seemed to live a simple life, with most of them wearing peaceful smiles. When they saw Wang Xuan, a stranger, they were curious, but there was no malice in their eyes.

Many villagers were struck by Wang Xuan's outstanding demeanor, unfamiliar face, and composed attitude.

They all subconsciously regarded him as a "superior talent" newly recruited by Village Chief Ma Xianhong—that was the village's term for someone with special abilities who was valued by Ma Xianhong.

Therefore, they all treated Wang Xuan with great respect, even nodding slightly as they passed by, but no one dared to approach and disturb him at will.

Wang Xuan offered no explanation, content with the peace and quiet. He strolled to the stream at the edge of the village, watching the crystal-clear water flow gently by, its surface revealing fish and pebbles clearly.

Then we walked to a wide-open medicinal herb field, looking at the various herbs growing vigorously and feeling the rich vitality there.

"Although Ma Xianhong is sometimes too idealistic and even a bit reckless in his actions, the village he built does have its unique features and can be considered a rare haven of peace."

Wang Xuan thought to himself.

The tranquility and peace here temporarily washed away the solemnity he felt while contemplating the Great Dao, and his mind seemed to be cleansed by the clear breeze and flowing water of the mountains, becoming even clearer.

He looked up at the largest bamboo house in Ma Xianhong in the distance, his gaze seemingly able to penetrate the walls and see the "tech geek" village chief inside, who was working diligently.

"I just wonder how long this peaceful place can last..."

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, then vanished. Wang Xuan composed himself and continued to enjoy this rare twilight stroll.

The road ahead is long, and we should cherish the tranquility we have now.

Chapter 67 The Intercepting Sect and the New Intercepting Sect

Wang Xuan stood alone by the stream, his hands behind his back, his gaze seemingly directed into the depths of the water, or perhaps piercing through the tranquil village before him, to see a more distant and unpredictable future.

His figure appeared somewhat lonely in the twilight, blending in with the peaceful pastoral scenery around him, yet also carrying a hint of detachment.

What do you think of my Biyou Village?

A voice rang out from behind, breaking the stillness of the twilight.

Ma Xianhong had silently appeared behind Wang Xuan without anyone noticing.

His tone carried a hint of barely perceptible boasting, but deeper still, it revealed an expectation akin to displaying the culmination of his hard work.

He spent countless efforts building this village, so naturally he hoped to gain recognition.

Wang Xuan did not turn around, nor did he even change his posture, as if he had already anticipated Ma Xianhong's arrival.

He continued to gaze at the surging stream, remaining silent for a moment before speaking in a tone so flat it betrayed no emotion:

"Not bad, it's just a pity we don't know how much longer it can exist!"

The tone was as calm as if commenting on the weather, yet the content was as sharp as a knife.

Ma Xianhong's smile froze instantly. The slight upward curve of his lips, which had previously held a hint of pride, now solidified into a somewhat comical expression.

He had imagined that Wang Xuan might praise him, criticize him, or even look down on him, but he never expected that the other party would give such a near-curse-like evaluation.

A nameless anger suddenly surged up in his heart. Why did he always feel so frustrated every time he met Wang Xuan?

Last time we met, we had a verbal battle, and I didn't gain any advantage. This time, I kindly invited him to give his evaluation, but I was met with such ominous words in return.

"What do you mean?"

Ma Xianhong's voice turned somber, carrying obvious displeasure and even a hint of offended anger.

He stepped forward, almost standing shoulder to shoulder with Wang Xuan, and turned his head to stare at Wang Xuan's seemingly calm profile.

Wang Xuan seemed oblivious to the sudden surge of anger beside him.

"You named this village Biyou Village, what? Do you want to become the Tongtian Cult Leader?"

Instead of directly answering Ma Xianhong's question, Wang Xuan posed a seemingly unrelated question, his tone ambiguous as to whether it was a joke or an inquiry.

When the "Master of the Heavenly Gate" was mentioned, Ma Xianhong's attention seemed to be briefly diverted, and the anger in his chest was slightly replaced by a sense of ambition.

He straightened his back, his tone regaining that almost obsessive sense of pride:

"That's right! I want to emulate the ancient Jie Sect, teaching without discrimination, and opening up a new path for all those in the world who pursue the 'Dao' but cannot find the way in!"

His words echoed in the twilight, carrying the burning passion of an idealist.

In response, however, was two very soft laughs from Wang Xuan.

He shook his head slightly, a movement that was enough to express his disapproval.

Then, without saying another word, he turned around, took a step, and was about to leave this place by the stream.

Wang Xuan's attitude made Ma Xianhong feel even worse than a direct rebuttal.

That laughter was like a fine thorn, piercing his proud heart. The feeling of being ignored and looked down upon reignited the anger he had just suppressed.

Ma Xianhong raised his voice and called out to the figure that was about to disappear into the twilight.

"Stop right there! I heard you laughing! What do you mean? Explain yourself!"

His tone was firm and unwavering; he needed an answer today.

Wang Xuan's words were like a dark cloud, shrouding his beautiful vision for the future of Biyou Village. He had to dispel this cloud.

Wang Xuan stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned around, raised his head, and for the first time truly looked directly at Ma Xianhong.

As dusk deepened, Ma Xianhong could clearly see Wang Xuan's eyes, calm as a deep pool, yet sharp enough to pierce through to the heart.

"Village Chief Ma."

Wang Xuan's tone remained steady, but every word was crystal clear.

"The ancient Jie Sect leader, Tongtian Shengren, wielded the Four Swords of Zhuxian and set up the Ten Thousand Immortals Formation. How overwhelming was his power?"

His disciples were exceptionally talented, a veritable gathering of immortals, his glory unparalleled. But what was the result? What was the outcome?

The once mighty Jie Sect fell apart. Its disciples either ascended to the ranks of gods and were driven by the Heavenly Court, or they died and their cultivation vanished.

Even someone as prominent as him, who almost reached the pinnacle of success, ultimately met a tragic end.

He paused slightly, his gaze sharp and intense, looking directly into Ma Xianhong's eyes, and asked, word by word:

"Even the leader's abilities couldn't protect himself and the sect's lineage. Do you think... you can?"

These words were like a thunderclap, exploding in Ma Xianhong's ears.

"you……!"

Ma Xianhong's face instantly turned bright red, his blood rushed to his head, and even his neck seemed to thicken.

He felt that his ideals and beliefs had been directly trampled upon.

After uttering those words that were enough to make Ma Xianhong blush, Wang Xuan seemed to have no intention of appreciating the other party's embarrassment.

He turned around again, walking unhurriedly along the path he had come from, toward the temporary residence arranged for him by the village, leaving Ma Xianhong, who was trembling with anger, in the rising night.

The stream continued to flow gently, as if the brief but intense confrontation had never happened.

Just as Ma Xianhong clenched his fists, trying to calm his surging blood and qi, Wang Xuan, who had already walked more than ten steps away, stopped once again.

He didn't turn around, but simply turned to the side, his voice carried by the wind, clearly reaching Ma Xianhong's ears.

"Oh, right."

Ma Xianhong suddenly looked up, staring intently at Wang Xuan's back.

"Since you arranged for me to stay, I'll give you a heads-up."

Wang Xuan's voice remained calm, but the content made Ma Xianhong's heart tighten suddenly.

“That Zhao Guizhen has too much of a violent aura about him; he is definitely not a good person. It is good that you uphold the idea of ​​‘education for all,’ but you must also distinguish between good and bad. Be careful not to let a wolf into your house and suffer the consequences. You should take care of yourself.”

After saying that, Wang Xuan did not linger and his figure quickly disappeared into the shadows of the village buildings, blending into the thick twilight.

Only Ma Xianhong remained in the same spot.

The flush on his face quickly faded when Wang Xuan mentioned the name "Zhao Guizhen," replaced by a look of surprise and uncertainty.

The anger was temporarily suppressed, replaced by deep confusion and a barely perceptible sense of vigilance.

That Taoist priest who claimed to be from Maoshan, but was usually quite well-behaved?

Why did Wang Xuan single him out? Was it his hostility?

Although Wang Xuan's words were sharp, Ma Xianhong had to admit deep down that this man had a keen eye and was definitely not someone who spoke carelessly.

His final reminder didn't seem like an attempt to sow discord; rather, it was more like a well-intentioned, albeit awkward, warning.

"The Tongtian Sect Leader... met a tragic end... Zhao Guizhen... was no benevolent person..."

Wang Xuan's words echoed repeatedly in Ma Xianhong's mind like fragments.

His initial enthusiasm for building Biyou Village and gathering "comrades" was now overshadowed by a heavy shadow.

A cool evening breeze blew by, carrying the chill of the stream, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

He gazed in the direction where Wang Xuan had disappeared, then looked back at the peaceful and serene Biyou Village in the twilight. For the first time, he felt a vague unease about the path he had taken.

Night completely enveloped Biyou Village.

Ma Xianhong stood there, motionless for a long time, lost in deep thought.

Chapter 68 Zhuge Qing and the King of Wudang

As dusk settled, Biyou Village was enveloped in tranquility and peace.

Wang Xuan walked slowly along the path paved with bluestone slabs toward his temporary dwelling.

He walked with a steady gait and an upright posture, and his simple clothes could not conceal his unique and transcendent temperament.

Surrounded by bamboo groves, the evening breeze rustles softly, carrying the fresh scent of earth and grass.

He seemed to be pondering something, his gaze calm, strangely blending into this idyllic village.

Just then, faint footsteps and voices came from the fork in the road ahead.

Wang Xuan looked up and saw Zhuge Qing walking side by side with Fu Rong.

Zhuge Qing was still dressed in his signature attire, his eyes narrowed, a faint smile playing on his lips, appearing languid and composed.