Chapter Three
The Nine Provinces and Eight Wastelands are divided into the Celestial, Demon, and Ghost Realms, with the mortal realm lying beneath them. Above these Three Realms, the Ancient Divine Realm reigns supreme.
Over sixty thousand years ago, the Chaos Tribulation descended upon the world. The four Ancient True Gods—Shang Gu, Bai Jue, Tian Qi, and Blazing Sun—exerted their full strength to confront the calamity, exhausting their Divine Power before falling into a deep slumber, and the Ancient Realm was sealed away.
Two hundred years ago, the four True Gods awakened one after another, the Ancient Realm reopened, and the Immortals, Demons, Gods, and Devils of the Three Realms and Nine Provinces welcomed the new era of the Later Yuan Ancient Calendar.
One hundred years ago, True God Bai Jue sacrificed himself to extinguish the Chaos Tribulation in the Abyssal Marsh. In her grief, True God Shang Gu decreed that only High Gods could enter the Ancient Divine Realm, sealing it away above the Three Realms, rarely to be opened again.
After this calamity, the long-standing enmity between Immortals and Demons was temporarily set aside, and hostilities ceased. Phoenix Sovereign Feng Ran became the Celestial Emperor, ruling over the Celestial Realm. The leader of the Demon Tiger clan, Sen Jian, became the Demon Emperor, governing the Demon Realm. The ruler of the Ghost Realm was personally chosen by the Ancient True God and, after enduring a hundred lifetimes, took charge of the Ghost Realm, named Ao Ge.
Since then, the Three Realms have enjoyed peace for over a hundred years.
For a long time, no new High Gods have emerged in the Three Realms. In the past century, only three individuals have shown the potential to ascend to the rank of High God.
Celestial Emperor Feng Ran, Demon Emperor Sen Jian, and the third is not the Ghost King, but the master of the Great Marsh Mountain in the Immortal Realm—Old High Lord Dong Hua.
This alone demonstrates the extraordinary status of Great Marsh Mountain.
Of course, the two birthday banquets of Old High Lord Dong Hua hundreds of years ago, which once welcomed the appearance of the Ancient True Gods, have already become legendary tales across the Three Realms.
At this moment, at the rear cliff of Great Marsh Mountain.
"Thud... thud..." The heavy sound of chopping echoed from beneath the rear cliff, faintly audible across half the mountain. Perhaps accustomed to it, the mountain's beasts continued their play undisturbed, seemingly filtering out the noise as if it were nothing.
Along the narrow winding path leading to the rear cliff, a fair-skinned and tender young Daoist boy stumbled forward. Half-grown, with rosy lips and bright teeth, he wore an indigo Daoist robe and struggled to carry a wooden bucket taller than half his body, inching his way along the path. It took a full hour for the young Daoist to finally stop at the edge of the rear cliff. He set down the bucket and peered down into the valley.
The rear cliff of Great Marsh Mountain was a deep, bottomless valley perpetually shrouded in white clouds. Faintly visible were verdant pines, lush grass, babbling streams, and blooming flowers—it seemed as though all the Immortal Qi and scenic beauty of Great Marsh Mountain converged here.
Unfortunately, no matter how beautiful this place was, very few had entered it over the centuries. The reason was simple: ever since Old High Lord Dong Hua established his mountain sect, he had loudly proclaimed his benevolence and consideration for his disciples, and without hesitation, designated this place as the sect's forbidden ground.
Hidden seals lay within the white clouds at the valley's bottom. Once thrown into the rear valley by the old master, disciples of Great Marsh Mountain could not take a single step out until the appointed time. No matter how majestic the mountains, how clear the waters, how beautiful the scenery, or how fragrant the flowers, after being confined for ten or even a hundred years, one would surely grow weary and restless.
The young Daoist boy widened his eyes, gazing at the figure chopping wood in the valley. He hurriedly straightened his wrinkled Daoist robe, cleared his throat, cupped his hands around his mouth like a trumpet, and called out, "Little Martial Uncle... Little Martial Uncle... Little Martial Uncle..."
His clear voice echoed through the mountains, drifting faintly down into the valley. The figure below continued chopping wood unhurriedly for another half a moment before leisurely riding a cloud toward the cliff edge.Before the cloud could approach the cliff's edge, a golden lotus seal quietly manifested above the cloud layer. Thousands of lotus flowers flickered in and out of sight, gradually coalescing into a thunderous formation poised to strike. As the cloud drew a few feet closer, a massive fiery red wing abruptly appeared in mid-air, sweeping toward the figure on the cloud with blazing flames. No matter how the person on the cloud tried to evade, they could not escape the relentless pursuit of the fiery wing. In the end, the figure had no choice but to resign themselves to their fate, standing still in mid-air as the wing sent them spinning several times in an instant, charring them into a blackened lump.
Seeing the figure suffer, the fiery wing transformed, revealing two round, wide eyes and a phoenix-like beak. The large beak opened, and it let out two arrogant cackles while pointing at the charred figure, before twisting its plump wings and vanishing into the air.
The golden lotuses in the sky, witnessing the figure's plight, exchanged knowing glances with remarkable sentience. They quietly dispersed their thunderous formation and drifted peacefully to the side.
The cliffside fell silent. The young Taoist novice lowered his head, stealing a few glances at the spot where the fiery wing had disappeared, then looked toward the gentle golden lotuses at the cliff's edge, inwardly marveling. Truly worthy of the Celestial Emperor's craftsmanship—compared to the lotus seals left by their grandmaster, the sheer majesty and power were on an entirely different level!
That awe-inspiring fiery phoenix wing just now was a seal personally placed by the Celestial Emperor Feng Ran in the past. As for the target of its punishment, it was naturally the charred lump on the cloud, now looking utterly disheveled.
Ah, Little Uncle’s fondness for Drunken Jade Dew was simply too persistent. Even though he knew he would be bullied by this fiery wing every time, he still charged forward, undeterred, as if facing death itself.
At that moment, the charred lump vigorously shook itself a few times, recited an Immortal Incantation to summon a dark cloud, and thoroughly rinsed its entire body. Only when it began to resemble a human again did it drift back toward the young Taoist novice at the cliff's edge on its cloud.
"Qing Yi, hand it over," the charred lump said lazily, floating cross-legged in mid-air with its hand just reaching beneath the lotus seal at the edge of the cloud layer.
The voice sounded clear and crisp, with a lively and spirited tone, likely belonging to a young man.
"Ah, Little Uncle Gu Jin, here you go!" the young Taoist novice responded quickly, struggling to lift a half-person-high wooden barrel as he wobbled toward the charred lump. The barrel overflowed with the fragrance of wine, and a drop or two occasionally splashed onto the ground, instantly revitalizing the plants it touched, filling them with vibrant life.
The figure on the cloud immediately sat up straight, its scorched and blackened eyebrows furrowing in distress. "Qing Yi, be careful! Your master treasures his Drunken Jade Dew. I’ve waited half a year just for this little bit—don’t waste any for me!"
Hearing this, Qing Yi glanced at the half-person-high wine barrel in his arms and felt like crying. The Drunken Jade Dew from the immortal pond at the foot of the mountain only yielded a single pool every six months. Each time, at least half of the collection was sent to the rear valley on his master’s orders. In all of Great Marsh Mountain, no one received as much as this little uncle. Everyone in the mountain sect knew how dearly their grandmaster and master cherished Little Uncle Gu Jin—how could he have the nerve to say he’d only gotten "this little bit"?Qing Yi is a disciple of Immortal Lord Xian Shan, the first disciple of the old High Lord Dong Hua. After the old High Lord entered seclusion, Great Marsh Mountain was entrusted to Immortal Lord Xian Shan to manage. Naturally, Qing Yi felt compelled to defend his master a bit. He immediately placed the wine barrel in Gu Jin’s hands, his face scrunching up in a pitiful expression as he said, “Little Martial Uncle, Master cares for you the most. He said the valley was too quiet and secretly instructed me to bring you an extra jug.” As he spoke, Qing Yi pulled a pristine immortal jug from his robes and handed it to Gu Jin.
Noticing the little immortal boy’s eyes glued to the porcelain jug, Gu Jin pondered for a moment before waving his hand with a touch of tragic grandeur. “Qing Yi, this jug of Drunken Jade Dew is for you. You come to the back valley to see me every month—consider it your martial uncle’s token of gratitude.”
Qing Yi immediately broke into a wide grin, his eyes narrowing to slits as he swiftly retracted his hand. Yet he still protested, “Little Martial Uncle, how could Qing Yi dare…”
“Take it. Finish it before you go back. Those little rascals are all too clever—you definitely won’t be able to hide it from them.” Gu Jin was about to ride his cloud back to the valley when Qing Yi called out to stop him.
“Little Martial Uncle!”
Gu Jin turned back.
Qing Yi poked his fingers together, hesitantly asking, “Little Martial Uncle, when will you be able to leave the valley?”
Qing Yi had only been cultivating at Great Marsh Mountain for a year, but Gu Jin had already been confined to the back valley for five years. Over the past year of delivering Drunken Jade Dew, Qing Yi had never heard the reason why Gu Jin was imprisoned in the forbidden area. He only knew that this treasured little martial uncle of the mountain sect was the only disciple in Great Marsh Mountain’s sixty-thousand-year history to be sealed here with two layers of restrictions—one by their grandmaster and the other by the Celestial Emperor.
Gu Jin stroked his chin and asked, “Has Master come out of seclusion?”
Qing Yi shook his head. Gu Jin clicked his tongue, placed his hands on his hips, and shouted toward the sky, “Hey, Fat Wings! I forgot the Celestial Emperor’s decree. Come out and recite it for me again!” With that, he hugged the wooden barrel and drifted on a cloud toward the valley floor.
Qing Yi watched longingly as Gu Jin rode his cloud down into the valley, unable to tear his gaze away. The dissipating intense Divine Power coalesced once more into fiery red wings floating in mid-air. The wings Gu Jin had called “Fat Wings” formed eyes and a phoenix beak, transforming into the shape of a small Fire Phoenix.
“Hmph! How many times must I say it? My name is Fire Wings! You’re the fat one—your whole family is fat!”
It wiggled its plump waist, looking down with an air of grandeur. Only when golden lotuses gathered around it and Qing Yi stared up with wide, eager eyes did it finally snort in satisfaction, clear its throat, and raise its head to cry out toward the gradually disappearing figure in the valley.
A majestic phoenix cry echoed joyfully across the back cliff. Many immortal beasts in the forest leisurely walked to the edge of the woods, covering their mouths with their paws as they yawned, clearly quite familiar with this scene.
“By my decree: Immortal Lord Gu Jin, for his mischievous and reckless actions that led to grave consequences, is hereby confined to the back valley of Great Marsh Mountain. The day High Lord Dong Hua emerges from seclusion shall be the day you leave this valley; the day High Lord Dong Hua ascends to godhood shall be the day you descend from Great Marsh Mountain.”
Fire Wings recited this sentence with imposing grandeur three times in a row before finally falling silent, satisfied. It raised its chin toward the stunned Qing Yi and then vanished into the air once more.
Was this a seal? Yes, it was a seal—but it was a seal that had gained sentience.
Truly, the world of deities at the Celestial Emperor’s level was one he could never enter.
After a long while, Qing Yi used his hand to lift his small chin back into place, silently comforting his startled little heart. He blinked toward the valley floor, then, coming back to his senses, quickly turned and hurried toward the mountaintop.Oh heavens, he had to go back and ask for clarification—what exactly had Immortal Lord Gu Jin done to be tormented like this by the Celestial Emperor! He had heard that their grandmaster hadn’t emerged from seclusion in over a decade. As for achieving godhood, not a single Demigod had appeared in the Three Realms for more than a hundred years, let alone a High God! If Immortal Lord Gu Jin’s luck was truly poor, and the grandmaster remained in seclusion for a few thousand years, then by the time his handsome little uncle emerged from the valley, he’d likely be an old man trembling with every step!
Qing Yi, clutching the immortal vial Gu Jin had just gifted him, sprinted away with unbridled joy, completely unaware that while he was drawing a salary for sweeping the mountain gates, he was carrying the weight of saving the Three Realms on his shoulders.
At the bottom of the valley, it was perpetually spring, with flowers blooming in abundance. Lush green pines encircled the valley, and a wooden bridge spanned a small stream, connecting a flower garden on one end to a bamboo cottage on the other. Outside the cottage, a fence made of clay stood, and within it, two rare phoenix trees grew. Golden leaves from the phoenix trees lay scattered outside the bamboo cottage, and stepping on them felt incredibly soothing.
In short, this valley seemed to have gathered nearly eighty to ninety percent of the spiritual energy of Great Marsh Mountain. Unfortunately, the two seals at the top of the valley had turned this blessed land of the Immortal Realm into a famously notorious living hell.
An Immortal Cloud slowly descended from the cliff. The person on it carefully carried the Drunken Jade Dew into the bamboo cottage, then came back out, stripped off his charred and blackened clothes, and took a dip in the small lake. Only after washing himself clean, fair, and tender did he climb out of the water.
Casually reciting an Immortal Incantation, he conjured a set of green robes, which the youth slipped on. He then examined his reflection in the stream for a long while before finally looking up, satisfied.
It was only at this moment that the Immortal Lord whom Qing Yi referred to as Gu Jin—the rarest treasure and most unfortunate disciple Great Marsh Mountain had seen in sixty thousand years—finally revealed his true appearance in full.
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