Stepping onto Chinese soil once again, Qin Zhong felt a rush of mixed emotions.
It really felt good to be home.
However, his return this time was specifically to address the issue with Wenqu, and time was tight.
He had no time to wander around, so he had to abandon any plans of revisiting old haunts for now—there would be plenty of opportunities later.
Entering the country through normal immigration channels was Qin Zhong’s way of showing basic respect to China.
Master Ancient One had presumably given them a head-up in advance, so Qin Zhong didn’t cross paths with any local Chinese forces.
After finding a secluded spot, Qin Zhong first visited several dimensional coordinates provided by Master Ancient One.
According to her, these belonged to several reclusive sects holding ancient inheritances from the Hundred Schools of Thought.
However, as he checked coordinate after coordinate, they were either deserted ruins, desolate wilderness devoid of human presence, or ordinary small mountain villages.
The village genealogies might list someone Ancient One had known, but that person had long since passed from this world.
Looking at the token in his hand, only two options remained: Mount Shu and Wudang.
It seemed his hopes now rested entirely on these two.
He headed to Mount Shu first.
Truthfully, Qin Zhong held little hope.
Whether in novels, TV shows, or movies, Mount Shu was always depicted with an impossibly grand aura—in short, it felt too mythical to be real, more like a mortal’s idealized fantasy of immortal cultivation.
Yet no sooner had he stepped out of the portal than he heard a sharp shout.
“Who goes there?” *Holy…
there’s actually a chance!* Qin Zhong perked up instantly and looked over.
A dozen paces away stood a young man clad in Taoist robes with his hair bound in a topknot crown.
Holding a sword in hand, he watched Qin Zhong with wary eyes.
Just as Qin Zhong was about to speak, a voice called out from above.
“Junior Brother, Master says to invite the guest inside.” Looking higher, Qin Zhong saw another young man in sleek martial attire, two swords slung diagonally across his back.
He stood atop a thick branch extending from a massive tree, resting one hand against the trunk as he looked down at Qin Zhong.
*This is the exact vibe.
Absolutely authentic.* Qin Zhong didn’t think the man was posing at all.
*Go ahead, lean into the drama!
The higher your style, the better your treasures!
You could fly on a sword right now for all I care—I want to see even more of this.
Hell, hit me with a Great Desolation Sky-Imprisoning Finger or Sword-Human Unity just to give me a show, I’d love to see it!* Surprisingly, however, the youth was quite polite.
By the time Qin Zhong approached, the youth on the branch had already leaped down and was waiting on the path.
After exchanging greetings, he led Qin Zhong up the mountain.
Along the way, whenever Qin Zhong showed interest in something, the youth paused to wait for him.
Before long, without any floating islands or magical realm vistas, they arrived at a collection of sizeable Taoist temples.
In this vast complex, only a handful of people were scattered about, going about their duties or practicing martial arts.
Inside the main hall, Qin Zhong finally met the person in charge.
He was an old man with white hair and a white beard, his eyes sharp as needles.
As Qin Zhong drew closer, he could feel a distinct tingling sensation on his skin, like static electricity.
Qin Zhong felt a spark of excitement.
Again, the stronger the master, the better the goods, and the greater his harvest would be.
Taoist Master Kunhong looked at the young man, who was getting excited under the pressure of his aura, thoroughly bewildered.
Originally, he had sensed fluctuations of Western spellcraft and sent his disciples to investigate.
Seeing that it was a young Chinese man, he intended to ascertain his intentions.
Since the visitor wielded Western magic, Master Kunhong thought he’d exert a bit of pressure to curb his arrogance—lest the youngster think possessing a few unorthodox tricks gave him license to act wild on Mount Shu.
He hadn’t expected the young man to react so unpredictably.
Qin Zhong reined in his excitement, fished out the token Master Ancient One had given him from his pocket, and handed it to the young disciple beside him.
“Master, I am Qin Zhong.
Entrusted by an elder of my house, I have come first to pay respects and send greetings to an old friend of my master, and second to seek guidance on some difficulties in my cultivation.
I have no other intentions.” The young disciple took the token and presented it to Master Kunhong.
Kunhong took it and examined it.
It was a Mount Shu Sword Token, its engraved patterns matching the style used back when his own master had been the Sect Leader.
That meant the visitor had ties to his master’s old acquaintances.
Calculating the generation, that would make Qin Zhong his martial junior brother!
“Who is the elder of your house?” “Master Ancient One.” “Greetings, Junior Brother!
I am your Senior Brother Kunhong.” Qin Zhong froze.
*You’re my senior brother too?* Kunhong explained.
“My master gave out only two of these tokens in total.
One was used long ago, and as for the other, Master only said he gave it to a dear friend without specifying who.
Only now do I know.
Since you are the disciple of my master’s friend, and I am older than you, you are naturally my junior brother.” *That…
actually makes sense.* Qin Zhong hastily offered a formal greeting.
Did Taoist Master Kunhong know who the Ancient One was?
Yes.
After all, he was currently the leader of the Mount Shu Taiwu Tianshu lineage and one of the rare figures atop China’s Ministry of National Security.
Most classified information was fully accessible to him.
He was simply surprised that his master had possessed a friendship with the Ancient One in those years.
“In the chaotic war years of the past, my master received word through one of the tokens and led his disciples down the mountain to save lives.
Of over a hundred disciples, only my master returned alive.
Overcome with grief and illness, he passed away long ago.
I was taken in as his disciple only after his return.
If you came seeking my master for a purpose, Junior Brother, you may tell me.
As his disciple, I will carry out his obligations and do everything in my power to help.” “My condolences, Senior Brother.
There is no grave matter—I came merely to visit an old friend on my master’s behalf and seek a bit of guidance.” Only now did Qin Zhong understand why such a vast place held so few people.
Knowing it was best not to pry into tragedies of the past, he offered a respectful apology.
Master Kunhong observed Qin Zhong closely.
“I see that you possess extraordinary martial potential, Junior Brother, and must have encountered great fortune.
At your age, you are remarkably promising, not to mention guided by Sorcerer Supreme Ancient One.
However, spellcraft is not Mount Shu’s specialty.
If you seek instruction in magic, I fear you have come to the wrong mountain.” Indeed, Mount Shu focused primarily on sword techniques and divine abilities, unlike Maoshan or Longhu Mountain, who were the true masters of spellcraft.
“Senior Brother overthinks it.
While I say ‘guidance,’ the truth is that my cultivation has reached a bottleneck, and I wish to consult Mount Shu’s cultivation methods for reference.” To put it plainly, Qin Zhong was here to borrow their techniques—he had no ulterior motives.
Hiding his intentions would only make him look petty, so he chose to be direct.
At the very least, with Ancient One’s reputation backing him, he wanted to see if he could get access to core techniques.
If not, even secondary techniques would do, giving him something to study so he could resolve his Immortal’s Touch technique.
“This…” Master Kunhong was put on the spot.
It wasn’t that cultivation techniques couldn’t be shared—after all, all Mount Shu disciples practiced them.
The issue was that Qin Zhong was not a Mount Shu disciple.
In the West, few people would recognize cultivation techniques.
But in the East, if someone used Mount Shu’s techniques to commit evil, anyone with a bit of skill would immediately recognize which Mount Shu stance had been used.
That was why sects were so cautious in accepting disciples—to prevent renegades from using the sect’s name and techniques to wreak havoc and ruin their reputation.
As he hesitated, Master Kunhong’s phone rang.
He picked it up, and a voice uttered three words from the speaker: “Let him view.” Now relieved of his dilemma, Master Kunhong put down his phone, though thoughts were stirring in his mind.
When his master had descended the mountain to save the world, Mount Shu’s foundation had been completely wiped out.
Master had taken him in, but Kunhong knew his own talent was average; his master had simply possessed no other choice when entrusting Mount Shu to him.
Decades had passed, and he was nearly in the grave himself, yet he hadn’t trained a single peerless genius.
A few of his disciples had joined the Dragon Group, but none were legendary talents.
Now Qin Zhong had appeared, seeking Mount Shu’s techniques, and a titan of the Taoist world had personally vouched for him.
What did that mean?
It meant Qin Zhong was worth investing in!
What was he waiting for, then?
“Junior Brother, would you be willing to join Mount Shu?” Qin Zhong blinked.
*Wait, what?* “I am willing to accept you on my late master’s behalf.
If you become a true successor disciple of Mount Shu, the Scripture Pavilion will naturally be open to you, and we can open the Sword Forest for you once as well.
Whatever opportunity you gain there will depend entirely on your destiny.” Master Kunhong’s thinking was simple.
He wanted Mount Shu to have a prominent figure out in the world—first to boost the sect’s prestige, and second to ensure Mount Shu had capable successors for the future.
If Qin Zhong could comprehend most of Mount Shu’s techniques, then through their shared bond as martial brothers, having him instruct a few disciples down the road would be far better than anything Kunhong could offer.
He only wondered whether Qin Zhong, as a disciple of the Ancient One, could join Mount Shu…
*There’s actually a deal this sweet?* Qin Zhong cupped his hands in respect.
“Of course!
Since Senior Brother thinks so highly of me, I would be honored to join Mount Shu.” “Good, good, good!
Wait a moment, Junior Brother.
I shall gather the disciples at once for the initiation ceremony.
Qintan, take your Martial Uncle to bathe and change into Taoist robes.” Overjoyed, Master Kunhong called for Qintan, who brought Qin Zhong to bathe and change into traditional Taoist robes.
Next came the formal initiation process: reciting the sect rules, bowing to the patriarchs, listening to the Sect Leader’s admonitions, and finally offering incense and tea to their late master.
Master Kunhong returned the token to Qin Zhong as a token of apprenticeship and granted him the Taoist name Dongxuan.
Only then did the ceremony conclude.
Qin Zhong was now officially a member of Mount Shu.
Right as the initiation ceremony finished, a report came from the mountain foot: visitors from Wudang had arrived, bearing congratulations and gifts for Perfected Master Dongxuan’s discipleship.
Qin Zhong looked astonished.
*There really are living Perfected Masters in China!* What he received were two manuals: one titled *True Explanation of Taiji*, and the other *Scripture of the Mysterious Passages of Yin and Yang*.
Qin Zhong’s expression grew complex.
He had to admit that he had underestimated this world.
If Ancient One hadn’t intervened, China’s hidden foundations were far deeper than he had imagined.
Given the traditional Chinese mindset, if their experts calculated an apocalyptic threat and foresaw a group of foreigners resolving it, they might very well choose not to interfere.
No wonder China was nowhere to be seen during the Endgame!
After all, it wasn’t happening on their turf, and the ultimate outcome would be good anyway.
Why bother getting involved?
For all he knew, China might even have formidable divine means capable of neutralizing the Thanos Snap!
After all, looking back at history, China had countless myths and legends—and now Qin Zhong wasn’t even sure if they were just myths anymore.
Since Mount Shu actually existed, did King Yu’s Nine Cauldrons exist?
What about the Eastern Emperor Bell or the Human Emperor Banner?
Accepting the two manuals, Qin Zhong bowed deeply to the messenger, expressing his sincere gratitude and asking him to pass his thanks to the Perfected Master.
He promised to hold this favor in his heart; if they ever needed his help in the future, they need only call upon him, and he would come without hesitation.
Qin Zhong’s attitude greatly reassured Master Kunhong.
*Mount Shu’s legacy has hope after all!* Dismissing the disciples, Kunhong gestured to Qin Zhong and said, “Junior Brother, follow me.
I shall take you to the Scripture Pavilion.” Qin Zhong assented and followed him.