Pavilion of Primal Sun Essence
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014 Yuanyang Hermitage
This hermitage is no ordinary place!
It likely contains an unbroken legacy, a complete inheritance that stretches from the art of absorbing vital energy, the foundation of the Dao, all the way through to the Golden Core and even the Primordial Spirit.
Such a heritage usually signifies a higher grade, more profound techniques, and powers of far greater magnitude.
Should a solitary cultivator acquire such a legacy, it would be enough to found a powerful clan, with the hope of nurturing descendants who may one day reach the Golden Core, ensuring their line endures through the ages.
As Pang Yue pondered these things, he flicked his finger, sending forth a crimson sword light that struck the bluestone.
Clang!
A clear, ringing sound reverberated through the depths. In an instant, the massive stone erupted in radiant white light, layer upon layer wrapping it like an eggshell.
A tremendous, surging force rushed toward Pang Yue.
From a distance, it looked like a sun, shrunk to a fraction of its true size, suddenly manifesting on the seabed!
The pitch-black, gloom-filled depths were instantly illuminated, bright as day.
The massive orb of light was composed of three exquisitely layered “inner shells,” each inscribed with nine seals of prohibition.
These seals, utterly masculine and resolute, brimmed with boundless spiritual power and contained a terrifying force capable of annihilating all things, held in check but ready to burst forth. The pressure of this spiritual force was far beyond the scope of the Dao Foundation stage.
The three veils of light encased the Yuanyang Hermitage, spinning one within the next like the grinding stones of a mill. To intrude recklessly was to be ground to dust.
No wonder those before him could only look on with longing, sigh in frustration, and leave empty-handed.
Even with Pang Yue’s current strength, a forceful assault would end in disaster.
Only a Golden Core cultivator or someone wielding a high-grade artifact might be able to break through these prohibitions by force.
Gazing at the hermitage within the sphere of light, and pondering the ancient inscriptions, Pang Yue faintly sensed that the ancient cultivator of Yuanyang Sect who set these defenses intended them more as a trial than as an impenetrable barrier to keep others out by sheer might.
He drew forth the Innate Wuji Tablet, using the artifact to deduce the mysteries hidden within.
A halo spread from the tablet, countless runes flowing, colliding, being born and dying. Pang Yue closed his eyes, motionless, quietly comprehending.
An hour passed.
Abruptly, he opened his eyes.
“There is indeed a flaw!”
Each of the three layers of the glowing sphere rotated independently, each with its own profound intricacies, together generating a force that could obliterate anything—yet, curiously, they left a single gap!
A single snap of the fingers contains sixty instants!
And in one instant, there are nine hundred cycles of birth and death!
Yet this gap appeared for only three such cycles.
Pang Yue could not be sure whether this gap was deliberately left by the ancient Golden Core cultivator, or whether the prohibition was simply not quite perfect.
He put away the Innate Wuji Tablet, scrutinized the sphere for a while longer, then with a twist of his body, merged with the formless sword, transforming into a light invisible, intangible, and colorless, drifting silently around the sphere.
Suddenly, the outermost layer of light rippled faintly.
Then all was calm once more.
In the innermost layer, Pang Yue’s form flickered and appeared before the bluestone.
Now, on the face of the bluestone, beneath the four characters “Yuanyang Hermitage,” there had opened a great door, leading to a spacious hall beyond.
Upon entering, Pang Yue saw that the furnishings were of ancient design, elegant and clean; the hall remained as it had been hundreds of thousands of years ago.
Light radiated naturally within, so that, though deep inside stone, there was no sense of oppression or gloom; in fact, one could see the outside world through the stone walls.
The main hall connected to several stone chambers, and at the side, a staircase led upward.
A quick survey revealed the stone chambers contained only the daily items of a cultivator’s life—simple, refined, yet of little value.
Ascending the stairs, he found the next floor emptier still, save for a huge bronze gui vessel at the center.
Its mouth wide, neck drawn in, belly swollen, flanked by two handles and set on a square base.
Beast faces were carved upon its surface, along with ancient script, which, upon closer inspection, contained a secret method for cultivating spiritual rice.
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On the other side, three ancient characters caught Pang Yue’s eye.
Shanhe Gui—“Mountain and River Gui.”
With a wave of his sleeve, Pang Yue released a surge of spiritual power into the Mountain and River Gui, beginning to refine this… artifact!
As his power flowed within, dozens of prohibitions intertwined to form a vast matrix, slowly revolving.
Only then did Pang Yue realize that this bronze gui was, in fact, an artifact!
Once a magical tool exceeds nine prohibitions, it becomes a first-grade artifact.
A first-grade artifact with more than eighteen prohibitions ascends to the second grade.
And so it continues, up to ninth-grade artifacts—the pinnacle within this world.
The gui before him, astonishingly, held thirty-four prohibitions!
A third-grade artifact!
Pang Yue’s heart sped up; just this one find far exceeded his expectations.
Pouring his power into the gui, he hastily refined several prohibitions, gaining initial control and a sense of its wonders.
Forming a hand seal, he flickered and entered the vessel’s mouth.
In a blink, he stood within the Mountain and River Gui’s internal space.
The world opened up before him.
A field of golden spiritual rice, a thousand acres wide, sprawled at his feet!
Neat ridges and furrows, spiritual springs bubbling, a small river dividing the immense field in two, with mists encircling its borders on all sides.
Overhead, a clear sky and radiant day, with a “great sun” suspended high, radiating both light and heat.
Pang Yue looked up at the sun—within it, countless runes danced and converged, split and rejoined endlessly, perfectly harmonious, evoking a sense of eternal immutability.
The spiritual rice grew as tall as a person, stalks straight and golden as spears, heavy heads bowed with ripeness.
At the heart of the field stood a thatched cottage, surrounded by wildflowers, a scene of pastoral peace.
Landing before the cottage, Pang Yue examined the crops, plucked a handful of grain, and inspected it closely—each grain was perfectly round, like pearl or jade, emanating dense spiritual energy and warmth. Within the rice, runes flickered in patterns resembling the great sun above.
“This rice… is extraordinary.”
Holding it, Pang Yue felt his spiritual power stir, his body brimming with vitality, his energies circulating with newfound agility.
Entering the cottage, he found only a straw cushion and a jade slip at its side.
He picked up the slip and pressed it to his brow; within were the methods for cultivating the spiritual rice and its properties.
Yuanyang Rice—consumption aids cultivation, improves constitution, opens the meridians, and strengthens the physical body.
It benefits practitioners at every stage, from absorbing vital energy, to Dao Foundation, to the Golden Core!
This was no small matter.
Most spiritual rice in the world only aided those in the early stages; Golden Core cultivators, with lifespans of a thousand years, found ordinary rice of negligible use.
Only a rare few grains, comparable to elixirs, possessed the transformative power to assist Golden Core masters.
This Yuanyang Rice was one such grain.
Cultivated by great masters of Yuanyang Sect, it required an artifact like the Mountain and River Gui to grow and mature, making it exceedingly rare—reserved for Golden Core elders and a select few core disciples.
Its properties were entwined with the sect’s most treasured teachings; consumed over time, it could even enhance one’s spiritual constitution.
“This rice is of immense use to me!”
For so long, what had hindered Pang Yue most was his aptitude.
The former owner of his body, Taoist Xu, was plagued by inferior spiritual roots, which had been a source of endless torment.
If he could use Yuanyang Rice to enhance his constitution, and supplement it with the Demon Refining Urn, the Innate Wuji Tablet, and the Formless Sword, the path to the Dao would become smooth before him!
He could not help but laugh heartily, then departed the gui and put it away.
Ascending to the third floor.
This seemed to be the living quarters—elegant in its simplicity, with a bluestone at the center bearing a jade slip and a massive axe. On the central wall hung a great, dark-gold withered leaf, as if for decoration.
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There were no more stairs above this level, and Pang Yue felt a touch of puzzlement—was this truly all that an ancient Golden Core cultivator had left behind?
He did not dwell on it, but picked up the jade slip on the bluestone. Instantly, he discovered a technique that could be cultivated up to the late Golden Core stage.
Yuanyang True Method, the Eighteen Yuanyang Slashes, the Nine Heavens Yuanyang Grand Array…
The technique appeared incomplete, lacking the Primordial Spirit portion of the inheritance!
Even so, it was at least equal to the “Infernal Demon True Record” he currently practiced.
If he could complete it, it would rival the sect-defining “Arcane Codex of Chaotic Nether Demonic Sigils” of the Demon Sigil Sect.
The massive axe, carved from gray-white stone, was astonishingly heavy. Inscribed upon its blade were the ancient characters for “Yuanyang.”
Pang Yue hefted it; it weighed hundreds of thousands of pounds!
This axe was also an artifact!
Within it, thirty-nine prohibitions—a fourth-grade artifact!
Artifacts of this grade were rare even among Golden Core masters.
As was his habit, Pang Yue refined its prohibitions for initial mastery before storing it in his pouch.
At last, his gaze fell on the dark-gold leaf on the wall.
It looked mysterious, yet also quite ordinary, with not the slightest trace of spiritual energy. Neither artifact nor spiritual material, its purpose was unknown.
“I’ll study it when I return…”
Pang Yue collected it as well, then circled the third floor, sensing that something was missing.
Suddenly, he slapped his thigh, eyes falling on the bluestone.
If there was any further treasure here, it must surely be the Yuanyang Hermitage itself!
With its astonishing defensive power and other possible wonders, this abode was itself a precious treasure, comparable to the greatest artifacts.
If so, the control center must be the bluestone at the room’s heart!
In a flash, Pang Yue appeared before the stone, pressing his palm to its surface and channeling a stream of pure spiritual energy.
Hum!
The bluestone shone with dazzling spiritual light, countless runes emerging across its surface, layer upon layer, flickering unpredictably.
After a moment, the stone quivered gently, catching Pang Yue off guard and forcing him to step back.
From the stone, the intense white light gathered into a human form—that of a middle-aged man in wide robes and long sleeves, with an elegant and noble bearing.
He wore a tall crown, his features both ancient and refined, his eyes bright with spirit, leaving a deep and unforgettable impression at a single glance.
“After a dream of thousands of autumns, what year is this night?”
The man recited softly, his gaze falling upon Pang Yue, then shook his head slightly, a look of disappointment in his eyes.
“Young friend, how long has it been since the Cataclysm of the Heavenly Demons?”
Pang Yue’s heart pounded; he realized the figure before him was likely the ancient Golden Core cultivator himself. Cautioning himself, he prepared at any moment to summon the Formless Sword and escape as a ray of sword light.
He answered in a steady voice, “Senior, the Cataclysm of the Heavenly Demons is an event of ancient times—by now, some six to seven hundred thousand years have passed.”
The man started in surprise, then sighed, “So much time has truly passed?”
He continued, “And what is the current state of Chixiao Heaven?”
“Chixiao Heaven?”
Pang Yue was taken aback.
From the original owner’s memory, he had no knowledge whatsoever of Chixiao Heaven.
“You do not even know of Chixiao Heaven?”
The man looked at him in astonishment.