Volume One: The Celestial Palace of Mist and Clouds Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Opening of the Cave Abode

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Opening of the Immortal Mansion

In the cold and dark expanse of the universe, a jet-black treasure ship sailed across the void. Upon its deck stood three figures: the esteemed Immortal Yunmiao, along with Zhou Hao and Su Qing, who were about to embark on their journey to the Grand Immortal Mansion.

“When you two enter the mansion, you must exercise utmost caution. This time, the four great factions have sent forty-seven prodigious disciples. Though there is discord among them, you both are their common enemies. Do not underestimate the disciple from the Colorful Xiang Palace either—he is ruthless, and for profit, would gladly kill. Remember: preserve your strength, avoid direct conflict!” Yunmiao Immortal cautioned.

“Thank you, Palace Master, for the warning!” Zhou Hao and Su Qing responded in unison.

“There are countless opportunities within the Grand Immortal Mansion. Upon arrival, you should first lie low and cultivate. I, along with the other fifteen palace masters, deduced centuries ago that the mansion will remain open for a year from the moment it is unlocked. If you use this time well, your immortal cultivation will progress swiftly!” Yunmiao Immortal continued.

“Will the Palace Master return immediately after safely escorting us to the mansion?” Zhou Hao asked, his heart weighed by the possibility of Nangong Xun initiating a rebellion soon. He had spent many years in Yunmiao Immortal Palace—after all, how could one remain indifferent?

Zhou Hao dreaded returning to find the Yunmiao Immortal Palace utterly changed, its people and things unrecognizable.

That night, although Yun Fang had scoffed at Nangong Xun’s actions and assured Zhou Hao that Yunmiao Immortal had methods to deal with him, Zhou Hao knew it was but a comfort. Many, including himself, were aware of the injuries Yunmiao Immortal had suffered.

He glanced again at Yunmiao Immortal’s face, still bearing that ethereal, ascetic demeanor as when they first met, yet his eyes now seemed sunken. This was not mere illness—it heralded the arrival of the Soul Decline, one of the five immortal decays.

Soul Decline—signifying the weakening of an immortal’s soul. The body is but a vessel; the soul is the ferryman. When the soul ages, even immortals must face death.

Such is reality: even in the immortal realm, even wielding vast powers, none can escape the bonds of life and death, nor the relentless passage of time. In essence, the immortal domain is merely a world where time flows slowly—one may achieve longevity, but not immortality, may remain youthful, but never truly imperishable.

“All encounters in this world are fated; do not cling too tightly to these bonds. Your journey is far from over,” Yunmiao Immortal replied, not directly addressing Zhou Hao’s question.

“Palace Master, but I…” Zhou Hao’s brow furrowed, anxiety creeping in.

“No need to say more!” Yunmiao Immortal waved his hand dismissively.

“Zhou Hao, the Palace Master is right. Don’t dwell on it. We’re about to enter the Grand Immortal Mansion; you must keep your emotions steady!” Su Qing comforted him softly.

“Forgive me…” Zhou Hao managed a bitter smile at Su Qing’s beautiful face. “I understand. I won’t ask again.”

Su Qing smiled and nodded.

The jet-black treasure ship sped through the boundless void in the blink of an eye, finally slowing as it neared its destination.

Ahead, the dark heavens were devoid of stars, but a pink celestial scar stretched across the sky, as if heaven itself had split open, quietly suspended in the void.

The pink scar alternated between dim and bright. When radiant, it diffused pink ripples, casting a mesmerizing glow.

“This is the place!” Yunmiao Immortal anchored the ship, pointing solemnly at the pink scar.

“Someone is already here!” Su Qing whispered. Her senses were keen; though no one else was visible, she had already detected others lurking nearby.

Yunmiao Immortal glanced approvingly at Su Qing. With his own perception, he had long known others were hiding here, but Su Qing’s quick awareness proved her exceptional strength.

“So the Yunmiao Immortal Palace has sent two disciples—impressive!” a mocking voice rang out. Suddenly, the void to Yunmiao Immortal’s right twisted, and four treasure ships burst forth, their prows crowded with figures.

These four ships—one each of blue, green, purple, and red—gleamed metallic in the pitch-dark space, dazzling and conspicuous.

Zhou Hao instinctively murmured, “The four great factions of Wind, Rain, Thunder, and Fire!”

“Yunmiao, long time no see. I’ve never forgotten losing to you all those years ago!” At the bow of the green ship stood a tall, slender figure, his gaze icy, long hair cascading to his waist, half his face veiled by hair, revealing only his right eye.

Yunmiao Immortal paid no heed to the man who called himself Feng Yigeng, instead raising his voice: “Such a grand event, yet none of the four faction leaders have appeared? Are they afraid?”

Zhou Hao was taken aback—none of these were the faction leaders?

Unthinkable! The Grand Immortal Mansion is a once-in-a-millennium opportunity. The sixteen immortal palaces hosted a grand assembly, all their masters providing escort, yet not a single leader from the four great factions attended.

A blatant affront!

“It’s a contest among disciples; what business do we have? The leaders wouldn’t trouble themselves with such matters. Besides, each faction boasts at least three high-ranking immortals. Any one of us could easily maintain order,” Feng Yigeng replied nonchalantly.

“But your sixteen immortal palaces are different. Each palace has only one immortal, most in the early stages. Only the Colorful Xiang Palace Master is somewhat noteworthy!” Feng Yigeng sneered.

“Is that so? Should I thank you for your praise, then?” A cheerful, refined laugh echoed, as fourteen more figures materialized in the void. An immensely powerful aura erupted, sending tremors through the hearts of all present.

“Colorful Xiang Palace Master!” Feng Yigeng’s gaze darted to the distant figure, immediately filled with apprehension.

Over the years, the sixteen immortal palaces and the four great factions waged endless rivalry, but the factions never eliminated the palaces. The chief reason stood before them: this figure, whose background was astonishing and power formidable. Even the faction leaders might not best him. The factions knew that, though he looked down on the palaces, he feared them not. If a reckoning ever came, the factions would suffer greatly, so a dynamic balance endured between the palaces and the factions.

In a sense, the survival of the sixteen palaces was owed to the Colorful Xiang Palace Master—a peacock spirit, whose identity provided an unassailable foundation. Coupled with his pinnacle-level immortal strength, even the great factions deeply feared him.

This time, the allocation for the Grand Immortal Mansion was also due to his influence. Though only three spots were granted, it was by his own request. During negotiations, both sides vied to maximize their numbers, but he played by his own rules, declaring three slots sufficient for the palaces, any more would be wasted. The factions could have more, but it mattered little; too many would just scatter like headless flies.

Thus, sixteen palaces received three spots, the factions forty-seven. Many palace masters resented the Colorful Xiang Palace Master’s decision, but could not refute him, keeping a respectful distance. Despite his great contributions, his motives were selfish, and such “merit” was never widely acknowledged.

Around the pink scar, the palaces and factions had gathered—except, since Yunmiao Immortal had slain the Muqi Palace Master, only fifteen masters remained.

At this moment, the Colorful Xiang Palace Master, clad in multicolored robes, cut a figure so handsome it bordered on sinful. Beside him stood his disciple—the same who had devoured the heart of Elder Chi Yuan’s disciple from the Chi Xun Palace: Cai Lingzi. Master and disciple resembled each other, both in radiant robes, like twin brothers.

“Since everyone is here, let’s open the Grand Immortal Mansion at once!” a deep, thunderous shout resounded, coming from the purple-gold treasure ship of one of the four great factions.

At the prow stood twelve, led by a burly middle-aged man, bare-chested, his bronze skin etched with purple lightning, exuding explosive power.

“This celestial scar connects to the Grand Immortal Mansion. If we combine our immortal powers, we can briefly tear open a spatial fissure to send fifty disciples inside! But it only works once—if the scar is overstimulated, it will retaliate against the surrounding void, and none of us will survive!” Yunmiao Immortal warned.

“Let’s begin!” urged the immortal representative from the factions.

With no further delays, everyone unleashed their power upon the pink celestial scar, carefully measured so as not to provoke its backlash.

Nineteen beams of immortal light burst forth, spanning the void, striking into the depths of the pink scar. The scar shone more brightly, swelling as if someone inflated a pink balloon.

If handled poorly, the balloon would explode!

“Careful, just tear open a fissure, don’t break the scar!” Yunmiao Immortal reminded again.

Radiant light arched across the dark void like a rainbow bridge, its terminus the expanding pink scar. The immortals felt a faint devouring force emanating from it—soon, it would be strong enough to swallow the heavens and earth.

There was no time to waste!

With a hum, the Colorful Xiang Palace Master squinted, his right hand rotating in the void. With a crack, the pink scar split open—a fissure, tiny in comparison, yet to disciples like Zhou Hao, it was a river.

All the immortals urged, “Quickly, enter!”

At once, fifty figures shot forth like meteors, plunging into the fissure, vanishing into the depths of the pink scar.

“Withdraw!” The nineteen immortals ceased their attacks; the scar stopped swelling, the fissure closed instantly. All went smoothly.

“Now, their fortunes are in their own hands!”

Yunmiao Immortal Palace, atop Yun Fang Immortal Mountain.

Yun Fang had stood beside the little blue lake for a long time, gazing motionless toward the sky, where the palace gates lay.

“My disciple, I believe you will make your mark in the immortal realm. Your name will be remembered by all. Alas, as your master, I won’t live to see that day!” Yun Fang smiled bitterly.

It was dusk; the setting sun bled like blood, ten suns sinking in the sky, evoking a deep sense of desolation.

“Hmm? Where is that turtle? Why is its aura absent from the mountain? It couldn’t have gone elsewhere… Unless…” Yun Fang muttered, walking into the bamboo hut.