Volume One: The Celestial Palace of Misty Clouds Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pavilion of Immortal Martial Arts

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Pavilion of Immortal Martial Arts

Everyone was inwardly shaken. Zhou Hao had actually struggled to his feet, trembling as he stood under the gaze of the crowd. His eyes shone with unwavering determination, his voice rang out with such force and clarity. Though grievously wounded and on the verge of collapse, he persisted, his clear gaze fixed on the slender, graceful figure ahead.

Yu Nan too was deeply stirred at that moment. The wariness in her eyes was replaced by astonishment. The young man before her was far from the inept novice she had imagined. Twenty years ago, she had dismissed his abilities without a thought; now, his dramatic return had left everyone in awe. It was like a dream, yet this was no dream—this was reality, unfolding before her eyes.

“Very well… I’ll fight you.”

Biting her red lips, Yu Nan found herself unable to meet Zhou Hao’s eyes, something she herself found odd. He was just a new disciple, a mere student of Yun Fang—why should she fear him?

In the crowd, Su Qing frowned slightly at Yu Nan’s response and was about to step forward when Yu Nan spoke again.

“But if I defeat you in your current state, it means nothing. Go back and recover. When you are healed, I will face you directly.”

With a thud, Zhou Hao collapsed onto the flagstones, stirring up a cloud of dust.

“Brother!” Cao Shuang cried out and rushed forward to catch him.

Yu Nan glanced one last time at the unconscious Zhou Hao, her heart unaccountably heavy, then turned and soared away from Cloudmist Immortal Mountain on her sword, without looking back.

The Sword Practice Square soon emptied out, but by midday Zhou Hao’s name had swept through the entire Immortal Hall like a gale.

Within Yun Fang’s bamboo cottage.

Zhou Hao lay quietly on a bamboo bed, his wounds already healed by Yun Fang. To a Golden Immortal master, so long as the injuries were not deadly, a bit of immortal energy and medicinal pills could restore a lower immortal in an instant.

All that remained was rest. Zhou Hao’s injuries were severe—though medicine could heal the flesh, his body still needed time to recover. The pills merely hastened the process.

In the courtyard, Yun Fang tended flowers and pulled weeds. The breeze stirred the bamboo, and the leaves rustled, when suddenly a shadow appeared before Yun Fang.

“Senior Brother Yun Fang, is this your true form returned today? Have you learned anything?” The newcomer was none other than Elder Li Qionghua.

“Ah, don’t mention it. The people of Night Palace are mysterious and unfathomable, far beyond what we imagined. In their eyes, even the Sixteen Immortal Halls are as ants. How could it be easy to find where Yu Yang’s soul is imprisoned?” Yun Fang paused, his words tinged with helplessness.

“I’m sorry, Senior Brother Yun Fang. I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Li Qionghua said, gazing at the white-haired elder before him, his heart heavy.

He remembered how once, this senior brother had been so full of spirit, traveling across countless worlds to vanquish demons and protect life. Later, he took on a genius disciple, and together they were the envy of all, basking in glory. Who could have foreseen the sudden rise of Night Palace, shattering all that? The disciple murdered, reputation ruined, forced into seclusion and disgrace—one blow after another. A hundred years had passed; the black hair had turned white. The man remained, but his heart had frozen over.

“The Palace Master wishes to see you, Senior Brother. Let me accompany you,” Li Qionghua said after regaining his composure.

“Very well, let’s go,” Yun Fang replied, nodding.

In an instant, the two transformed into streaks of light, shooting up into the azure sky at a speed that took the breath away.

Yet in the courtyard, Yun Fang still tended his flowers, as if nothing had happened at all.

Night fell.

Zhou Hao awoke. The bamboo house was not dim but brightly lit. On the table burned a crimson candle, its wax crystal-clear and lustrous like a work of art, warm and radiant as jade. Most remarkable was its flame, shining with a brilliant white glow like a tiny silver sun, filling the room with light.

“My good disciple, you’re awake already? As I thought, your constitution is far from ordinary. Others would need three days to recover; you’ve woken in half a day.” Yun Fang smiled at Zhou Hao by the bedside.

“Master…”

Zhou Hao tried to rise, but Yun Fang quickly pressed him down, cautioning him to rest despite his sturdy constitution.

“Master, I…”

“I know what you want to say. I am proud of you. Your progress has astounded everyone, hasn’t it?” Yun Fang’s eyes were full of affection; he was immensely satisfied with his disciple.

“Then Master, does this mean I’m qualified to participate in the Immortal Hall’s disciples’ tournament ten years from now?” Zhou Hao suddenly asked with a smile.

“Hmph, you rascal, are you trying to embarrass your master? Fine, fine, I was blind not to recognize a genius when I saw one. Will that do?” Yun Fang said in mock exasperation.

The once solemn mood was lightened by this exchange, and it was a delightful change.

“To have cultivated for a mere twenty years and reached heights that leave countless others in awe—you’ve even broken Yu Yang’s record. Truly, each generation surpasses the last,” Yun Fang sighed, his heart now much lighter about Yu Yang’s fate.

After all, one cannot live forever in the past. Though that tragedy had scarred him deeply, he had finally moved on.

“Oh, right. My disciple, in the Cloudmist Immortal Hall there is a Pavilion of Immortal Martial Arts. I never mentioned it before since you weren’t ready, but now your cultivation is sufficient to choose an immortal martial technique there.” Yun Fang’s eyes held a hint of expectation as he remembered this.

“Immortal martial arts? Master, now I recall—surely you can finally teach me your own Lingxu Immortal Steps?” Zhou Hao grinned mischievously at Yun Fang.

“Already? Isn’t it too soon for you to learn my exclusive immortal technique?”

“How about this: I’ll go to the Pavilion, choose a suitable technique, and when I’ve mastered it a little, you’ll teach me the Lingxu Immortal Steps. Deal?”

“Deal!”

The next day, Sword Practice Square.

“Wow, brother, you’re amazing! You were so badly hurt just yesterday, and today you’re sprinting and leaping?” Cao Shuang stared at Zhou Hao, who was fully immersed in sword practice, as if he were a monster.

“Senior brother, I don’t mind you talking, but do you have to be so loud? Now every disciple knows what you’re saying,” Zhou Hao rolled his eyes, drawing glances from all the nearby disciples.

“Nonsense. After yesterday’s events, you’re already famous in Cloudmist. All the disciples are talking about you. They say you’ll be the top disciple within a hundred years, and within a thousand you’ll reach the Golden Immortal realm, sure to be courted by every great sect,” Cao Shuang declared.

“That’s absurd,” Zhou Hao almost spat out blood. As he glanced around at the whispering disciples, he felt a sense of foreboding. Life in Cloudmist would only grow harder.

The pressure, the lack of freedom in cultivation, the weight of everyone’s expectations, and the anticipated success—all these were challenges Zhou Hao would have to face. Gradually, he found himself understanding Su Qing’s situation. He glanced toward the most beautiful figure in the distance.

It had been twenty years since their last meeting.

“Senior sister, look, Zhou Hao is looking your way,” Wen Yuan nudged Su Qing.

“Focus on your sword practice!” Su Qing’s gaze was cool, her steps light as she circled on the flagstones, seeking to comprehend her new sword intent.

“Oh,” Wen Yuan stuck out her tongue sheepishly.

Elsewhere, Yu Nan, Cheng Yan, and Xiao Shanshan were also practicing. Cheng Yan, unable to contain himself, grumbled, “How did Zhou Hao get so strong? I don’t believe he’s only cultivated for twenty years. He was clearly hiding his strength yesterday. I’ll settle the score with him sooner or later!”

“Exactly! Senior brother, you should’ve seen it—Zhou Hao even badly injured senior Fei Ling,” Xiao Shanshan replied, her big eyes sparkling with an unspeakable charm.

“So what? With senior sister on the field, he still got crushed, right, senior sister?” Cheng Yan snorted, glancing at Yu Nan.

But Yu Nan paid no attention, wholly absorbed in her sword practice, oblivious even as Cheng Yan called her name repeatedly. Only when Xiao Shanshan tapped her shoulder did she return from her own world.

“Huh? Shanshan, what is it?”

“Senior sister, what’s wrong? You’re acting strange today,” Xiao Shanshan asked.

“Heh, am I? I hadn’t noticed,” Yu Nan replied, a bit embarrassed.

“Senior sister, you must avenge me! Zhou Hao’s gotten far too bold!” Cheng Yan gritted his teeth.

“Zhou Hao? I’m not thinking about Zhou Hao. Not at all!” Yu Nan shook her head vigorously, her gaze flickering. She glanced once at Zhou Hao but quickly looked away, lowering her head in confusion.

“What’s gotten into you, senior sister?” Cheng Yan stared at her in disbelief.

“Oh, come on, senior brother, let’s not mention Zhou Hao anymore! Senior Yu Nan is sick of him already!” Xiao Shanshan interjected.

…

“Senior brother, take me to the Pavilion of Immortal Martial Arts. I want to choose a technique for myself,” Zhou Hao said to Cao Shuang after sword practice.

“Surely, junior brother, you’ve never been to Cloudmist’s Pavilion before?” Cao Shuang immediately saw through Zhou Hao’s real intention.

Zhou Hao nodded sheepishly. Cao Shuang didn’t say more, and the two of them headed straight for the Pavilion.

Cao Shuang explained that the Pavilion was located in the gilded underground chambers beneath the Cloudmist Immortal Hall, and entry required the palace master’s permission.

Cloudmist Immortal Lord listened to their request and agreed gladly, granting each of them a square, sky-blue token as a pass for the guardian.

They followed a staircase down to an underground chamber, where they found seven domed doors, each painted one of the seven colors of the rainbow, illuminated by lamps on the walls.

“We take the fifth door, the blue one. That leads to the Pavilion,” Cao Shuang indicated.

Zhou Hao nodded and followed him in.

Cao Shuang’s plump hand pushed open the blue door with a creak, the noise echoing through the dim, empty basement and sending a chill down their spines. But Zhou Hao was not one to be easily frightened, and together they peered into the space beyond.

A long, pitch-black tunnel stretched ahead. There were no lamps, and only the light from the open door gave a faint illumination, just enough to see it was a tunnel—otherwise, it would be utter blackness.

“No problem. I have a luminous candle!” Cao Shuang grinned, taking a crimson candle from his pocket and lighting it. Instantly, the tunnel was bathed in white light—the very same kind of candle used in Yun Fang’s bamboo cottage.

With the candle, the tunnel seemed much shorter, and their quick steps soon brought them to another door.

“Why are there so many doors in Cloudmist Immortal Hall?” Zhou Hao muttered. Ever since passing through the gate guarded by the Death Guards in space, he’d developed a real aversion to doors.

Cao Shuang pushed open the door, and a flood of light spilled out, revealing the scene within.

A pavilion, towering nearly a hundred meters high, radiated with a silvery glow from top to bottom like a luminous mountain. On the plaque above the first floor were three golden characters: Pavilion of Immortal Martial Arts.

Below, two elders sat quietly, cross-legged on their meditation mats.