This time, it's yet another new world.
"Taiyin Refining Body?" Song Lin racked his brains but still couldn't recall what this Chapter was about.
However, the Eastern Penglai Myth seemed quite intriguing.
The last world had been based on the Chu Myth.
Song Lin had spent decades in the Lao Mountain World and had a decent understanding of what the Chu Myth entailed.
In the Lao Mountain World, there was no Jade Emperor, nor the Buddha. The highest god worshipped was Taiyi, while the common folk mostly believed in Zhuu Rong, Great Destiny, and Junior Fate.
The Taiyi God System also included deities such as Lord Yunzhong, Xiangg Jun, Lady Xiangg, the River Lord, and others.
The so-called myth largely determined the power system of the world.
The spells in the Chu Myth system were mostly related to nature, drawing material from it—techniques like the Summoning Birds Technique, Bat Night Bright, or Chasing Stars and Fetching the Moon—without too many gaudy embellishments.
Understanding the myth and its corresponding spell system gave Song Lin a rough guess about this Taiyin Refining World.
The Immortal system in the Eastern Penglai Myth was eclectic and multifaceted, giving it the feel of "three thousand side paths."
Adding to that was its Pre-Qin origin, making it even older.
Pre-Qin cultivators always left the impression of being "peculiar"–some achieved immortality by consuming mica, others by drinking dew. There were corpse dissolutions, Qi Cultivation, alchemy...
Enough. Let's go in first and figure it out later.
With that thought, Song Lin reached for the ancient text.
Swoosh!
A dizzying sensation of heaven and earth spinning enveloped him.
Song Lin opened his eyes.
Boundless ocean waves roared around him.
Standing up and scanning his surroundings, he realized he was on a small island, surrounded by seawater extending hundreds of miles.
Behind him loomed a massive mountain.
Oddly enough, despite it being midday, the mountain peak was shrouded in dark clouds, giving off an eerie feeling.
With this in mind, Song Lin began walking toward the mountain.
The trees were towering, their dense foliage blotting out the sky.
The ground was blanketed in thick layers of fallen leaves; the air was damp and chilly, as dim as dusk.
Song Lin walked for who knows how long until, unexpectedly, he came upon a Taoist Temple.
This cold, pitch-black temple suddenly appearing in the gloom indeed felt weird.
The temple's mountain gate was ancient and rustic, with three doorways made of gray stone, carved with dragons and phoenixes, but the gate tower bore no plaque.
Passing through the archways, there was a bluestone square on the other side, and behind that sat a temple shaped like a mountain, its middle section large while the sides were smaller.
In front stood a massive bronze tripod, still containing incense ashes and other remnants.
Flanking it were lifelike... tomb guardian beasts?
"What the hell? Tomb guardian beasts placed here?"
As the name suggests, tomb guardian beasts are mutant beasts used to protect burial grounds—human-faced, deer-antlered, lion-bodied creatures meant to subdue evil and safeguard souls.
The temple was shrouded in dust, making its original color indiscernible—clearly abandoned for ages.
Song Lin pushed open the large iron doors.
Creak!
The sound echoed through the empty space.
"Cough, cough!" The dust made Song Lin cough, and what he saw next nearly caused him to cry out in surprise.
Light illuminated the dark hall, revealing a group of white-robed Taoists sitting cross-legged on meditation cushions with their backs to him.
The floor was thick with dust, yet the white-robed Taoists were spotless.
"Fellow Taoists, pardon my intrusion," Song Lin said, clasping his hands and bowing, calling several times but receiving no response.
He ventured deeper into the hall and saw that the Taoists' faces were ruddy, their lips curved in peaceful smiles, yet they made no sound—they were dead?
The thick layer of dust indicated that at least a century had passed.
A century-old corpse remaining uncorrupted—these must have been immensely accomplished cultivators.
At the forefront of the Taoists sat an elderly man with a long white beard.
His attire was even more ornate, embroidered with golden threads depicting mountains and rivers.
Approaching him, Song Lin discreetly tightened his grip on the Avoiding Filth Talisman; the scene was unnerving—who knew if these Taoists would suddenly reanimate?
Beside the old Taoist were two young boys.
One held a copper mirror, the other a jade box, both faintly glowing with treasure-like radiance.
Clearly, these were magical artifacts.
After pondering briefly, Song Lin drew the Three Yang Fire Sword and used its tip to nudge the copper mirror in the boy's arms. Once it loosened slightly, he reached out to grab it.
As his right hand touched the copper mirror, its surface reflected a skeletal hand, with veins and blood vessels clearly visible.
This mirror could reveal one's very bones?
It was undoubtedly a divine artifact!
Song Lin then pulled the copper mirror from the boy's grasp.
Swoosh!
Suddenly, a pair of pale hands clasped the mirror tightly.
Looking up, Song Lin was met with a pair of bloodshot, entirely white eyes.
The boy had come back to life! His mouth split open, spewing a stream of black liquid, while his hands grew sharp claws that struck toward Song Lin's head.
"Reanimated corpse!!"
Swoosh!
Song Lin dodged the boy's attack and hurled five Fire Light Talismans, their fireballs blasting the boy away.
From the shadows of the dim hall, countless ghost fires began to swarm out.
Seeing this, Song Lin abandoned the copper mirror and bolted out the door.
The ghost fires chased him closely, clustering like clouds.
From the dense forest came rustling sounds, as hordes of poisonous snakes emerged. The King Silver-ring Snake leading them was five zhang long, its head the size of a basin.
"Damn it!"
Song Lin cursed under his breath, flipping his right hand to produce a green pearl.
The green pearl emitted miasma, disintegrating all the surrounding snakes, insects, rats, and ants into pools of sludge within a ten-zhang radius.
But the King Silver-ring Snake was unharmed, its speed undiminished as it pursued him relentlessly.
Song Lin had no intention of fighting head-on. After using the miasma to clear away the encirclement, he raced toward the seashore.
He realized he couldn't contend with either the King Silver-ring Snake or the ghost fires covering dozens of zhang in radius.
Emerging from the forest, the weather outside abruptly worsened, with wind and rain raging.
Waves soared a hundred zhang high, stirring the sea into a frenzy.
The King Silver-ring Snake caught up to Song Lin, raising its massive tail high.
Bam!
Song Lin narrowly dodged, the ground beneath splitting into a deep trench. In response, he swung his wooden sword backward, piercing through the snake king's scales.
"Roar!!"
The snake king writhed in agony, thrashing its enormous tail around. Clinging tightly to his wooden sword, Song Lin was flung about wildly in midair.
Swoosh!
The sword loosened, and both it and Song Lin were thrown a hundred zhang away, plunging into the sea and swept away by the waves.
...
Qi Country, Lai Mountain.
A battalion of black-clad Iron Cavalry halted by a cliff's edge, overlooking the vast ocean.
Dressed in fabric armor and wielding long halberds, the Iron Cavalry surrounded a man in a mystic robe.
The man appeared about thirty years old, with jade-white skin, a long flowing beard, and an air of worldly fatigue beneath his brows.
Gazing at the boundless sea, Prince Lian furrowed his brows in thought, then sighed deeply: "Ah, when will I ever return to my homeland?"
Prince Lian was a noble of Qin Country, the son of Qin Linggong. After Qin Linggong's death, his great-uncle Daozi ascended the throne.
To avoid unforeseen dangers, Prince Lian, at ten years old, fled to Wei Country.
Little did he expect that his exile would last over two decades.
During that time, his great-uncle had passed, succeeded by Prince Ren. This year, Ying Ren died, leaving the throne to a mere two-year-old toddler.
Now, the toddler's mother ruled in his stead, plunging the nation into misery.
"Prince, the King of Wei expressed his desire to help you reclaim the throne just a few days ago. Should we go back now to answer the will of the people..." a nearby retainer hesitated.
"You don't understand. If I accept assistance from the King of Wei, even if I successfully ascend to the throne, I'll be shackled by Wei Country in the future."
Having wandered in exile for many years, Prince Lian longed to reclaim his homeland, but he refused to act against Qin Country's best interests.
To avoid the stormy politics, he had fabricated an excuse to travel among various countries. It had already been a year since his departure.
At this moment, a faint white mist rose above the sea, drawing everyone's attention.
"Huh? A body?" one subordinate suddenly exclaimed in surprise.
They saw a man floating on the waves.
"Go down and rescue him," Prince Lian ordered.