35: Breakthrough

The system’s cold warning text was branded onto Zhang Xuanyi’s retina, yet it failed to stir even a ripple in his heart.

He merely withdrew his gaze calmly, as if it wasn’t a life-or-death warning, but a perfectly ordinary itinerary.

“Break through?” Su Qingzhu’s voice held a subtle tremor. “The stall… the system, is it warning us that Mount Longhu will stop you at all costs when we return?”

Gongshu Yin’s abacus clicked rapidly, more urgently than the sound of the wind and snow.

He adjusted his monocle, its lens reflecting the nine-dot star map on the back of the stall cloth, which had now formed a closed loop. He said in a deep voice, “More than that. The Karmic Device shows that the term ‘return to position’ has triggered the highest level of karmic precepts in the area around Mount Longhu. We haven’t even arrived yet, and Mount Longhu’s entire Luck Formation has already locked onto us as ‘invaders’. This barrier, I’m afraid, isn’t just the mountain gate, but a complete snare.”

Zhang Xuanyi didn’t speak; he just reached out and gently brushed the snowflakes from A Yuan’s hair.

The boy had fully recovered. Aside from his still-pale complexion, he was full of energy and curiously staring at the mysterious stall cloth, as if trying to discern the faces of three hundred fathers from it.

“Senior Brother,” A Yuan looked up, his clear eyes full of trust, “will kicking the door… hurt a lot?”

Zhang Xuanyi smiled, pulled out a handful of fragrant roasted melon seeds from his pocket, cracked one open, and offered the kernel to A Yuan’s mouth.

“It won’t hurt,” He flicked the melon seed shell casually. The light shell arced strangely through the air and precisely embedded itself into a crack in a snow-covered rock ten paces away, silently.

“Because we’re not going to knock on the door,” His voice was soft, yet more penetrating than the raging cold wind, “We’re going to collect a debt.”

The Iron Lady beside him remained silent, merely shifting the sword box on her back to the optimal angle for an instant draw.

Her action was the most direct answer.

The journey back was no longer peaceful.

The “Nine Markets Resonance” was like lighting a towering beacon in the darkness, not only awakening the dormant “Dao Market” nodes but also attracting countless entities that sensed the disturbance.

On the third day after leaving the snowy plains, they were traveling through a desolate forest.

The sky was overcast, and not even a trace of birds could be seen.

“Something’s not right,” The Iron Lady was the first to stop. Her ears, impervious to wind and snow, twitched slightly. “There’s something in the wind, not alive, nor dead, like… the murmurs of countless people.”

Gongshu Yin’s Karmic Device pointer spun frantically, emitting an ear-piercing hum.

“It’s residual wish power! The Nine Markets Resonance has stirred up centuries of accumulated ownerless wish power beneath this land. They’re attracted by the stall’s aura and are gathering!”

No sooner had he spoken than the surrounding withered trees seemed to come alive.

Grey-black shadows seeped out from the tree trunks and from underground. They had no fixed form, sometimes transforming into human faces, sometimes twisting into beastly shapes, emitting unsettling whispers.

These entities were immune to physical attacks but could directly erode one’s mind. A moment of carelessness would lead one to be dragged into an endless illusion of desires, becoming a walking corpse.

“A Yuan, close your eyes, cover your ears!” Su Qingzhu reacted immediately, taking out a calming talisman and sticking it on A Yuan’s forehead.

Zhang Xuanyi, however, stood still.

He looked at the swarming residual wish power, his eyes devoid of any fear, instead looking like he was watching a group of lost children.

“They are yearning to ‘return to position’,” He murmured.

“Senior Brother, the stall is hot!” A Yuan exclaimed.

The rolled-up stall cloth, even through its thick wrapping, began to emit a faint golden light.

The nine-dot star map on its back lit up on its own, its light flowing to form a miniature vortex.

As soon as the grotesque residual wish power approached the vortex, they were instantly sucked in like iron filings drawn to a magnet. All their madness and chaos were ground down and purified by the vortex, eventually transforming into the purest energy, merging into the stall cloth.

In just a moment, the eerie murmurs in the forest vanished, and the overcast sky seemed to brighten a few shades.

The golden light on the stall cloth slowly receded, and the “broken bell” imprint made of ash seemed to deepen in color.

“It… it’s devouring these things to grow stronger?” Gongshu Yin watched, dumbfounded. “This is practically a mobile wish power purifier and power bank!”

“No,” Zhang Xuanyi shook his head. He could feel that the stall was not “devouring” but “containing.”

It was like a true “market,” incorporating these homeless “goods” into its own order.

He reached out and touched the broken bell imprint. A cold sensation came, and a wisp of information quietly flowed into his mind.

“The first rule of the Dao Market: All who enter this market are returning guests, regardless of their origin or past.”

This stall was, step by step, teaching him how to become a qualified “Lamp Bearer.”

In the journey that followed, similar bizarre incidents occurred frequently.

They encountered arrays of soldier souls, their obsessions lingering, abandoned on ancient battlefields; they also stumbled upon fallen deities, their divinity collapsed and reduced to mountain spirits, due to the disappearance of their believers.

But without exception, before they even got close, the stall would react on its own, containing these restless “wish power nodes” one by one.

Zhang Xuanyi and his group seemed to have become kings patrolling their territory.

And that stall was his scepter and his code of law.

He felt more and more clearly that the connection between him and the stall was no longer a simple master-servant relationship, but a deeper symbiosis.

The stall was guiding him, and it was also depending on him.

It needed Zhang Xuanyi, the “Lamp Lighter,” as its core to reconnect the scattered “Nine Markets” across the Nine Provinces.

And Zhang Xuanyi also needed the power of the stall to kick open Mount Longhu’s invisible yet steel-hard gate.

“According to the Karmic Device’s calculations, we will enter the Mount Longhu mountain range in thirty li,” Gongshu Yin’s voice interrupted Zhang Xuanyi’s thoughts. His expression was more solemn than ever. “From there, every step we take will be under the surveillance of Mount Longhu’s mountain-protecting formation. And… I’ve detected an extremely subtle killing intent. It’s not from those residual wish power; it’s from people.”

“They finally couldn’t hold back,” Zhang Xuanyi paused his melon seed cracking and cast his gaze towards the distant, cloud-shrouded mountain range outline.

Su Qingzhu worried, “Mount Longhu’s current Celestial Master, Zhang Chengjing, is said to have reached the pinnacle of cultivation. He also has four great lineage True Sages under him, a multitude of experts. If we just barge in like this…”

“That’s why it’s called breaking through,” Zhang Xuanyi stood up and dusted himself off.

He looked at the seemingly peaceful, yet secretly turbulent Daoist sacred land, a cold curve on his lips.

He remembered his father’s silent whisper in the fiery phantom: “The one who sets up the stall cannot be ‘me’.”

He didn’t understand before, but now he did.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t, but that the time wasn’t right, that “he” wasn’t qualified enough yet.

His father had guarded it his entire life, perhaps waiting for him, the one who was supposed to “set up the stall,” to return.

And Mount Longhu had stolen his father’s glory, occupied his family’s Daoist lineage, and concealed this monumental karmic debt for a century.

Now, the debt collector had arrived.

Night fell again; this was their last night before reaching Mount Longhu.

The camp was silent, even the crackling of the bonfire sounded exceptionally clear.

Everyone knew that after dawn, an irreversible hard battle awaited.

The Iron Lady was wiping her sword, its blade reflecting the firelight, exuding a chilling aura.

Gongshu Yin’s abacus was placed before him, but he didn’t move its beads, merely gazing at the faint light flowing over them.

Su Qingzhu was meticulously organizing the talismans and elixirs in her satchel.

A Yuan was already asleep, a sweet smile on his small face, seemingly dreaming of his three hundred fathers again.

Zhang Xuanyi sat cross-legged. Before him, the rolled-up stall cloth, which had never unfurled on its own without his command, now showed signs of activity.

It remained rolled, lying quietly on the ground.

But on its surface, the closed-loop star map formed by nine golden dots slowly began to rotate at a visible speed.

Round and round, as if calibrating something.

Immediately after, an invisible pressure emanated from the stall cloth. This pressure was not directed at anyone in the camp but spread out in all directions.

It was as if a sleeping emperor, before entering his territory, had issued a silent declaration.

The wind in the forest stopped, and the chirping of insects vanished.

Within several li, all traces of activity were swept away by this pressure.

All eyes, whether human or ghostly, that had been secretly observing were forcibly cut off at this moment.

Gongshu Yin’s Karmic Device emitted a faint “click,” all pointers simultaneously returning to zero, the screen blank.

He exclaimed in horror, “All the karmic lines… have been shielded! This stall, it… it’s clearing the field!”

Zhang Xuanyi slowly opened his eyes. He could feel the stall communicating with him, conveying an exceptionally clear message.

The path ahead is clear.

It’s time to set off.

On the horizon, the first rays of dawn were about to pierce the darkness.

The Mount Longhu mountain range ahead, shrouded in morning mist, resembled a dormant primordial beast, silently awaiting their arrival.