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Chapter 143: 5: The Witch Jiang Liyan



Next were the Eastern Emperor Path and the Asura Path. The former was akin to a cuckoo taking over the nest; it originated from a small sect with weak accumulation and had snatched some Daoist doctrines from the Beast Taming Sect; overall, their strength was still on the lower side.

The latter was a bunch of killers, fierce in magical fights and murders but a complete mess in other aspects.

The largest in scale was the Mortal Life Path; yet, the weakest in overall strength was also the Mortal Life Path, like a dragon without a head.

After organizing the intelligence, Qiu Changtian seriously thanked Junior Sister Xu and then left the Scriptural Repository.

Xu Yinglian beamed with a triumphant smile, returning to her cave dwelling only to remember:

Wait a second, I was supposed to ask my senior brother why the Marrow Cleansing was so fast, not to help him collect intelligence!

On Qiu Changtian’s side, he returned to his cave dwelling and instructed the Kunlun Mirror, saying:

“Ah Jing, what do you think I should name my fourth persona?”

“Wei Dongliu, how about that?” the Kunlun Mirror suggested and asked.

“That name has a bit of dominance,” Qiu Changtian said skeptically, “How did you come up with it? It feels like you haven’t even thought it through.”

“Thinking of a name is not really a difficult task,” the Kunlun Mirror replied, “If you don’t like the name Wei Dongliu, there are others like Yue Nantian, Yan Chang’an, Tang Wanzhong, and Xue Dinglu…”

“All right, all right, let’s go with Wei Dongliu,” Qiu Changtian considered briefly, feeling that they were all quite similar, and interrupted its litany, “Then it’s Wei Dongliu, teleport!”

The Kunlun Mirror then spoke solemnly:

[Location Four: Mount Wutai, Nanliang Gully.]

[Identity: Wei Dongliu.]

[Mirror Flower Water Moon Template overlay, undergoing time-space travel.]

When Wei Dongliu opened his eyes again, he found himself in the midst of the mountains.

Compared to the snow-capped peaks of Kunlun and the islands of Penglai, the environment of Mount Wutai was closer to that of Shushan, with undulating terrain and densely forested hills.

However, in comparison, the mountains of Shushan were steeper, whereas Mount Wutai was slightly gentler, and the trees were more cold-resistant and sparse.

Wei Dongliu trekked along the mountain path and came across a few woodcutters.

“Excuse me,” he called to the woodcutters, “to visit the immortals of Mount Wutai, is it in this direction?”

The woodcutters exchanged glances for a moment, then one of them spoke up:

“Deep within Mount Wutai, indeed, there are some who practice cultivation, but most of them are not easily dealt with.”

“If they take a liking to you and accept you as a disciple, that’s fine; but if they find you disagreeable, I’m afraid you might even lose your life.”

“Young man, I see you also come from a decent family. It’s better to stop here and not venture deeper.”

Wei Dongliu sincerely thanked them and then continued climbing upward. The woodcutters shook their heads and sighed as they saw his determination to proceed.

After almost two hours, he suddenly heard an ethereal singing from up ahead.

The voice was soft and sweet, but it was sung in dialect, incomprehensible.

Wei Dongliu narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing that the voice seemed to carry an attack from an illusion technique.

Not daring to go further, he looked around and chose to take another mountain path that veered away from the source of the sound, thinking to himself that the woodcutters had indeed not been wrong.

If an ordinary person heard this singing, they would surely be mesmerized by the illusion within it, foolishly seeking the source of the sound, and what fate befell them need not be mentioned.

After about a quarter of an hour, the singing abruptly stopped.

Wei Dongliu continued on his way and reached a turn in the mountain stairs, only to see a small pavilion ahead.

A copper pot was propped up on the stone table in the pavilion, bubbling with cooking ingredients.

Next to it sat a young girl in purple clothes, who looked to be no more than twenty years old, staring blankly at the flames beneath the pot with her cheek propped on her hand.

Wei Dongliu’s brows furrowed slightly, and he was about to bypass the area when he heard the other party gazing at the pot and saying:

“Since you’ve come this far, why not come closer and have a chat?”

“`

“I fear I may be a bother,” Wei Dongliu said with a cupped-fist salute, swiftly making a distinction in his mind.

The voice of this purple-clad young lady was identical to the singing they had heard earlier!

“No trouble at all,” the young lady in purple lifted her head, suddenly revealing a bright and beautiful smile.

Her eyes were large, but the corners were slightly upturned, characteristic of peach blossom eyes. Even without any expression, there was always a trace of enchantment in her glances.

Her nose was small and delicate, and her mouth’s corners curved slightly upward, “not speaking yet smiling,” always stirring fanciful thoughts without end.

In the art of physiognomy, such features belonged to ‘beauties who bring disaster,’ exquisite on the surface but often cunning and tricky, capable of leading to unrest at home.

Wei Dongliu therefore became extremely vigilant, ensuring there were no formations hidden around the pavilion before carefully stepping inside and sitting down opposite the girl in purple.

“May I know your esteemed name?” he asked.

“My surname is Jiang,” the girl said with a sweet smile, “My name is Li An, what’s yours?”

That smile was full of allure, intermingled with illusion techniques, aimed directly at bewitching the mind.

Ordinary cultivators who fell for it would become deeply infatuated, their feelings for her maxing out instantly. They would be led astray by her few words, willing to walk through fire and water for her.

Although Wei Dongliu did not possess the talent of Daoist Heart Clarity, it was fortunate that the Kunlun Mirror was the master of illusions. He dispersed the illusions right away and quickly notified Wei Dongliu.

Realizing he’d been attacked by her illusion techniques again, Wei Dongliu slightly narrowed his eyes as a hint of murderous intent arose within him.

Jiang Liyan: ?

The appearance of this man when he narrowed his eyes reminded her of a very dangerous person she had met before…

She steeled her mind, nonchalantly withdrawing the illusion technique, and smiled,

“Is it inconvenient to disclose your name?”

“I am Wei Dongliu.”

“So, it’s Cultivator Wei,” Jiang Liyan said with a smile, her thoughts secretly turning.

“Wei Dongliu” might not be his real name, but “Jiang Liyan” was actually a pseudonym; the last character of her real name was not “Li An”.

Because in the Intercepting Cult, there were innumerable unusual techniques, including secret incantations based on a person’s name, like the famous Seven-Arrow Nail Head Scripture from ancient times…

Of course, those secret techniques had all been lost over time, but to be on the safe side, the Heavenly Demon Path still required its disciples to keep their true names hidden, using pseudonyms even within the sect.

“From whence do you hail, Cultivator Wei, and why have you come to Mount Wutai?” Jiang Liyan asked with a glowing smile.

“I am but a loose cultivator,” Wei Dongliu said seriously, “Many years ago, I chanced upon an opportunity left by a predecessor, and now I am here in search of my sect.”

“Oh?” Jiang Liyan immediately understood, “May I ask which sect you are seeking?”

“Tong Xuan Gate,” Wei Dongliu replied, “Reportedly a sect left over from the ancient Intercepting Cult.”

Jiang Liyan paused for a moment then burst into laughter,

“Are you serious, Cultivator Wei?”

“Why do you ask?” Wei Dongliu inquired with surprise.

“That one you speak of should be the Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect, once a leading force of the Mortal Life Path, but it perished and its lineage was cut off four thousand years ago,” Jiang Liyan said with a smile, “If it weren’t so, the Mortal Life Path wouldn’t have fallen into such a state.”

The Tong Xuan Gate was gone? Wei Dongliu felt a dull heaviness in his thoughts.

Although he was mentally prepared, hearing the news so abruptly still irritated him.

“If you are searching for that Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect, then I’m afraid you have indeed come too late,” seeing his somber expression, Jiang Liyan feigned sorrow as she sighed and said:

“Not to mention the lineage of the Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect, even the outer disciples died fully during the sect-destroying catastrophe. The sect’s Daoist techniques and Magical Treasures are also gone… Even if something miraculously remained in some ruins, after four thousand years they would have been looted nearly clean.”

“All that’s left is perhaps the name, which some ignorant loose cultivator sects have improperly adopted.”

“However, I can assure you, these so-called ‘Tong Xuan Gate’ factions have no hereditary connection to the original Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect.”

“You might as well start your own Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect, Cultivator Wei. I wager it would be more authentic than theirs,” Jiang Liyan said, her smile tinged with disdain as she shook her head.

“I see,” Wei Dongliu mused for a long while, then said, “It seems that to revive my master’s legacy, I have no choice but to reestablish the Myriad Laws Mystic Profound Sect myself.”

Jiang Liyan: ???

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