3: Chapter 3 Ancient Scrolls Contain Hidden Secrets

Morning light filtered through the broken window lattices of the ancient temple, cutting several slanted beams of light onto the dust-covered floor.

Lu Mingyuan sat cross-legged on a prayer mat in front of the statue—the mat was originally dilapidated, but after he cleared away the cobwebs and dust, it was barely usable. Spread across his knees was the authentic copy of the "classic of mountains and seas," its pages brittle and yellow, with fine dust motes dancing in the light.

His breathing was steady, his eyes slightly closed; he was not sleeping, but adapting.

With the All-encompassing Clarity talent newly awakened, the world appeared in dual layers before his eyes: the physical world of the ancient temple, scriptures, and light-dust, and the energetic world of flowing Spiritual Veins, the patterns of remaining Formations, and the stream of information leaping between the characters. The two visions overlapped and intersected, dizzying at first, but he forced himself to concentrate, following the vague technique transmitted in Bai Ze's dream, focusing his intent on the point between his eyebrows.

Half an incense stick later, his vision gradually cleared.

When he opened his eyes, a faint golden gleam flashed in Lu Mingyuan's pupils before vanishing. Looking at the ancient scroll again, he could now clearly distinguish two types of "text": one was the conventional Seal script written in ink, and the other, visible only to his Eye of Clarity, was the flowing silver light tracing the edges of certain characters and phrases.

"Spirit-infused text..." He recalled what Bai Ze had said—this copy of the "classic of mountains and seas" had been imbued with Divine Ability by its former owner.

Lu Mingyuan took a deep breath and turned back to the page in the "classic of western mountains" regarding Eagle Beak Cliff. The ink annotation "This is the present-day Eagle Beak Cliff" was clearly visible, and under his Clear Sight, this line of small regular script was entwined with fine golden threads, connecting to some kind of imprint deep within the paper.

He attempted to probe it with a wisp of intent.

"Hum—"

An image appeared in his mind: a Daoist in green robes stood atop a cliff, gazing at the celestial phenomena. It was exactly the terrain of Eagle Beak Cliff, but the vegetation was lush, clearly from an earlier era. The Daoist raised a hand and pointed to the Northwest, and a voice resonated directly in Lu Mingyuan's consciousness: "On the third day of the seventh month of the Gengzi year, red Qi surged into the heavens, shaped like a wound in the sky, lasting for three breaths. Suspected to be a sign of the loosening of the heavenly dimension. Record this for future investigation."

The image shattered, but the lingering sound remained.

Lu Mingyuan steadied his mind, his gaze falling on the four characters "red Qi surged into the heavens." Through his Eye of Clarity, these four characters faintly exuded a very pale, dark red Qi, sharing the same source as the blood-red light he had seen in the Northwest last night. Even more strangely, the Qi extended out from the paper, outlining a rough projection of a star chart in the air—the positions of the seven main stars corresponded exactly to the celestial phenomena at that time last night.

"This book... can record changes in celestial phenomena and echo with reality?" Shocked, he hurriedly took out the charcoal pencil he carried and a few surviving sheets of paper—those tucked into the lining of his documents, which hadn't been soaked by the rain—and began to record.

First, the geographical description of Eagle Beak Cliff. The main text of the ancient scroll stated that the mountain was "shaped like an eagle raising its head to peck at the sky." Lu Mingyuan compared it to the mountain path he remembered and sketched a simple diagram on the paper with the charcoal pencil. As the lines extended, he discovered that the mountain veins and water flow patterns recorded in the ancient scroll matched the terrain he had experienced yesterday perfectly, even marking several details he hadn't noticed:

"There is an abyss in the mountain's shadow, unfathomably deep." —He thought of the deep flood pool beneath the cliff.

"Three miles east of the cliff, an ancient cypress grows, embracing a rock." —He had indeed seen a strangely shaped ancient cypress while climbing yesterday.

"Five miles to the southwest, the earth veins converge, often with strange light." —Wasn't this exactly where the ancient temple was located?

Lu Mingyuan stood up and walked to the temple entrance, looking toward the southwest. Under his Clear Sight, he could see five pale cyan earth veins extending from different directions, converging three feet beneath the ancient temple to form a slowly rotating vortex of Spiritual Qi. In the center of the vortex, a milky white halo faintly permeated the ground, which was exactly where the foundation of the ancient temple lay.

"So that's it..." he muttered. "This temple wasn't built arbitrarily; it was built to suppress a node of the earth veins."

Returning to the prayer mat, Lu Mingyuan continued to read. The subsequent discoveries made his back turn cold.

Many of the mountains and landscapes recorded in the ancient scroll could actually be matched with real-world geography, and they were marked with extreme precision. The first chapter of the "classic of southern mountains," "Que Mountain," pointed directly to "the present-day Mount Heng"; next to "Di Mountain" were small characters: "This is Junshan Mountain in Dongting Lake"; below "Dan Yuan Mountain" was marked "the main peak of the Luoxiao Mountain Range"...

But these were just ordinary things.

What was truly eerie were the "abnormal records."

Another part of the "classic of western mountains" mentioned "Yanzhi Mountain," saying, "Where the sun sets, there is a country called Mei Valley, whose people hide by day and come out at night, living by eating moonlight." The annotation, however, read: "A Secret Realm on the western border of Kunlun, appearing once every sixty years; the entrance is above the snow line, guarded by an ice crystal illusion Formation."

The "classic of northern mountains" recorded "Yufa Mountain," stating, "The mountain has a strange beast, shaped like a dog but with a human face; when seen, the city will suffer a great drought." The annotation was more detailed: "Deep in the Mongolian grasslands, above a geothermal Rift, an ancient Seal remains. In recent years, it has loosened, and the Qi of the Drought Demon is leaking out."

The "classic of eastern mountains" described "Qizhong Mountain," writing, "There is a bird there, shaped like an owl, with a human face, four eyes, and ears, and its cry sounds like its own name." Next to it were small vermilion characters: "Nests still exist deep in the earth veins of Changbai Mountain; seventeen years ago, a hunter saw one and suffered mental collapse for three months."

Lu Mingyuan flipped through the pages, cold sweat soaking his undergarments.

If these records had been presented to him yesterday, he would have dismissed them as myths and legends. But after experiencing the dream of Bai Ze, his Awakening, and seeing the blood-red light in the Northwest with his own eyes, a chill shot from his tailbone to the top of his head as he read these annotations.

This was not a collection of fictional stories.

This was a... dossier of primordial geography. It recorded the Secret Realms, strange beasts, relics, and Seals that were hidden from the eyes of ordinary people but truly existed in the corners of the world.

And the time span of those annotations ranged from "the Western Tour of King Mu of Zhou" to the "seventeenth year of the Republic of China," a full three thousand years. This meant that for at least three thousand years, someone—most likely the lineage of "Heaven-Patrolling Censors" mentioned by Bai Ze—had been continuously observing and recording these abnormal existences.

Lu Mingyuan suddenly thought of a key question.

He quickly flipped to the last page of the ancient scroll, wanting to find a postscript or signature, but only saw a blank space. However, under his Clear Sight, deep within the blank paper, lay an extremely complex silver rune Seal, woven from hundreds of fine lines, with an ancient Seal character at the center—

"Inspect."

The moment his intent touched the rune Seal, a massive stream of information flooded his mind. It was not specific text, but a kind of "perception": this rune Seal was the "core imprint" of the entire book, and it was linked to a vast and ancient observation network. Every abnormal record in the ancient scroll was a "signal point" captured by this network. And the annotations were the field notes left by successive holders of the scroll after they had personally verified the locations.

The stream of information was also mixed with fragmented images:

A Daoist riding a sword through a sea of clouds, with snow-capped mountains stretching out below;

A monk walking on foot in the desert, with a huge beast-shaped shadow appearing on the sand dunes behind him;

A Confucian scholar standing on the edge of a volcanic crater, recording red runes rolling in the magma...

Finally, all the images converged into a star chart—not the stars in the sky, but an "earth vein star chart" formed with the land of Shenzhou as the board and those abnormal locations as the stars. Eagle Beak Cliff was just one faint star point on it, while on the entire map, hundreds of light points were shining, distributed across the land, some bright as torches, others dim and about to extinguish.

The most glaring were three places.

Deep in the Northwest wilderness, a patch of dark red light was slowly spreading—corresponding to last night's blood-red light.

Somewhere in the East Sea, a dark blue vortex was slowly rotating—marked next to it was "Entrance to Guixu, fluctuations have intensified recently."

In the mountains of the Southwest, an area shrouded in ink-green miasma—marked "Ruins of the Witch Gu, Seal weakening."

Lu Mingyuan abruptly pulled back his intent, gasping for air. The information overload made his temples throb, but the fog in his heart dissipated somewhat.

"So, the Dharma-Ending Kalpa Bai Ze mentioned... refers to all these abnormal points becoming active and deteriorating at the same time?"

He looked at the sun rising outside the ancient temple, a strong sense of urgency rising in his heart. This authentic copy of the "classic of mountains and seas" was not a book for leisure; it was an alarm, a map, and a key.

Knowledge is the seed of power—Bai Ze's second sentence echoed in his ears.

Lu Mingyuan steadied himself and spread out the paper again. This time, he was no longer just recording; he began to analyze. With Eagle Beak Cliff as the origin and comparing it with the earth vein descriptions in the ancient scroll, he attempted to deduce the structure of the entire observation network.

An hour later, the paper was filled with lines and markings.

He discovered a pattern: the distribution of all the abnormal points was not random but arranged along nine main earth veins. These nine earth veins converged at five core nodes—three of which were the glaring light spots he had just seen. As for the other two nodes, one was in "Kunlun," and the other was in... "Zhongnan Mountain."

Zhongnan Mountain.

Lu Mingyuan's pen paused. This name had appeared many times in the ancient scroll, and the annotation described it as "one of the ancestral courts of Daoism, the main hub of earth veins, and a place where successive generations of recluses gathered." More importantly, one of the annotations mentioned: "In Zhongnan Mountain, there is a hidden temple, and in the temple, there is an old Daoist named Xuanweizi, who may know the inside story of the Kalpa."

Xuanweizi.

He repeated the name three times in his mind, committing it firmly to memory.

When the sun was high in the sky, Lu Mingyuan finally closed the ancient scroll. He carefully wrapped it up with oilcloth again and tucked it close to his body. The deduction diagram on the paper was also neatly folded and stuffed into his chest.

He stood up and stretched his stiff limbs. A feeling of hunger came from his stomach—he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon, but his mind was entirely focused on the truth revealed by the ancient scroll, and instead, he felt mentally invigorated.

Walking to the temple entrance, Lu Mingyuan looked back at the dilapidated ancient temple one last time.

Under his Clear Sight, the vortex of Spiritual Qi at the foundation of the ancient temple was still rotating slowly, connected to the earth veins, maintaining the miracle that this building had not collapsed for three hundred years. Although the face of the statue was blurred, a trace of weak "divine intent" remained inside; it was this trace of divine intent that had protected him from being disturbed by certain things last night.

Lu Mingyuan bowed to the statue again.

"Thank you for your protection. Since this junior has obtained this scroll and learned of this secret, I shall naturally follow the trail to seek the truth and not fail to live up to this Opportunity."

After bowing, he stepped out of the ancient temple.

The sun was bright, the birds were chirping crisply in the mountains, and the traces of last night's storm were rapidly evaporating. Lu Mingyuan stood on the small platform in front of the ancient temple and opened his palm—three golden runes in his palm were slightly hot, as if guiding the way.

He looked up toward the southeast.

That was the direction of Zhongnan Mountain.

The mountain road was muddy, and the path ahead was uncertain, but Lu Mingyuan's heart was clearer than ever before. The fame of the imperial examinations had become a thing of the past; a more vast and dangerous path was already unfolding beneath his feet.

And the first step was to take this ancient book, filled with hidden mysteries, and go find that old Daoist who might know everything—

Xuanweizi.