Jiangbei Province, Zhenwu Mountain.
The sightseeing bus wound along the mountain road, speeding ahead; looking out through the glass window, sheer cliffs loomed close and ancient green trees brushed past.
"I refuse to believe even an Immortal Sacred Land like this can't wash clean your filthy soul."
The decisive voice echoed at his ear. Zhang Fan leaned his head against the window, tilting it slightly, glanced at his best friend's confident face, then looked lifelessly back outside the bus.
Four years of college romance, finally fell victim to the curse of breakups come graduation season—parting ways like migratory birds, two people who were once so close, lives now diverged, never to cross again.
The silhouette running beneath the sunset had become nothing but a memory of lost youth…
Such a comedown had left Zhang Fan feeling out of sorts for quite a while.
As his best friend, Li Yishan had no choice but to drag him out for a pilgrimage—climbing the mountain, worshipping at temples, burning incense for the gods and buddhas—to lift his spirits and seek some blessings.
"Do you think… Immortals have relationship problems?"
Just then, Zhang Fan spat out the question without turning his head.
"Hey, this is Zhenwu Mountain—it's super mystical, don't talk nonsense." Li Yishan's eyes widened and he whispered nervously.
"But there's an old saying: for mortals seeking immortality and descending into the Red Dust, you must pass two trials before Dao is revealed…"
Li Yishan majored in folk culture at university.
"Which two trials?" Zhang Fan tossed out casually.
"Love trial and life-and-death trial… Only after passing those will some master come and enlighten you." Li Yishan murmured in a low voice.
"Since ancient times, Zhenwu Mountain's reputation as a Blessed Land of the Immortal Family is well-known, and it's…"
"A 5A national scenic spot, with tickets going for 280 yuan…"
Before Li Yishan could finish, Zhang Fan butted in.
"This is Emperor Zhenwu's Dao Field—back then, Emperor Zhenwu attained the Dao here, became the guardian of the North, crushed demons, also known as the Ancestral Master of Nine Heavens Demon-Vanquishing…" Li Yishan said solemnly.
Zhenwu Mountain is truly a famed mountain in the nation.
Back in the Zhen Guan Period of the Tang Dynasty, the Imperial Court decreed the establishment of 'Wulong Temple' here, prayed to heaven for rain, and thus opened the mountain gate of the Profound Sect. It's one of the Seventy-two Blessed Lands; countless Seekers of Immortality have come here over the ages seeking to glimpse the immortal way.
Of course, these days, it really has become a 5A national scenic spot—that's just a fact.
"Heard mineral water on the mountain costs ten bucks a bottle…" Zhang Fan muttered to himself.
"..."
"The incense here at Zhenwu Mountain is super effective, I heard…"
"A full-family photo package goes for 380…"
Before coming, Zhang Fan had looked up tips in the Little Yellow Book.
"..."
"If praying to gods and buddhas really works, you wouldn't even make it inside the mountain gate."
Zhang Fan leaned against the window, gazing out—mountain ranges rolled on and on, the steep peaks piercing the clouds, trickling streams winding deep through the earth, cliffs bursting with vibrant blooms, groves of pine and bamboo competing for emerald green.
Moments later, the sightseeing bus left the winding mountain road and stopped at a clearing. Stepping off, they saw an ancient Daoist Observatory standing ahead—the eaves high and sharp, full of classic charm, curling incense rising into the air, and a distant, ringing bell lingering in the ears.
Purple Sky Palace.
One of Zhenwu Mountain's Nine Palaces, a famous spot listed in the Little Yellow Book.
"From here on, don't talk nonsense."
Li Yishan got off with Zhang Fan, coming up beside him and reminding him in a low voice.
"Young man, wanna buy some incense? It's pricey inside… Full-family set for 480…"
As soon as everyone stepped off, a group of elderly men and women hurried over carrying bags full of incense and candles, mountain making a living from the mountain, water from the water, god from the god… clearly, this was their trade.
"No thanks… Thank you." Zhang Fan waved them off.
"Young man, seeing the divine without burning incense will bring bad luck…" The old woman smiled kindly, affectionate and sincere.
"..."
Zhang Fan kept walking, but Li Yishan bought two sets of incense and candles, caught up carrying the bag, and handed Zhang Fan a set.
"A hundred and twenty—make sure you transfer it to me."
"Even gotta pay for this?" Zhang Fan rolled his eyes.
"Of course! Incense money can only come from your own pocket." Li Yishan lectured about the taboo.
"You come to the mountain to worship gods, don't act like you lost your soul!"
Li Yishan eyed Zhang Fan's lifeless look, trying to console: "Would not breaking up really be any better?"
"You want to get married, walk down the aisle, not afraid you'll end up like Wu Dalang?"
"Shut up." Zhang Fan said, deadpan.
"Only a fool actually wants to get married!"
"Got to have a car, got to have a house—sounds like being single is way better."
"..."
Zhang Fan shot him a sideways glance, grabbed the incense and candles, and strode into the palace. The architecture was old-fashioned—not Ming or Qing style—with walls marked by the scars of time and deep grooves.
He took a deep breath, the mountain's chill filling his lungs, making his head much clearer.
"This place is really something." Zhang Fan whispered, feeling his mood begin to lift.
"This Daoist temple's got over a thousand years of history—just treat it like going hiking."
Li Yishan squeezed beside him, squinting and grinning: "If you change partners fast enough, there's no heartbreak, only love."
"Rumor is there are lots of hiking babes here—you might even get lucky."
"Heavens! How do you dare talk like that in a place like this?"
Zhang Fan stepped aside from Li Yishan: "Gods and Immortals above, he's the one saying that."
"Weren't you the one always going on about not believing in feudal old superstitions?" Li Yishan glared hard at him.
"That kind of talk would get you roasted online." Zhang Fan replied dryly.
"What fucking kind of fake saint act is that? Be honest—who wouldn't sneak more than one look at a hottie on the street? Does that make you some kind of animal? And who's really got the filthy mind here?"
"..."
Zhang Fan said nothing, clutching his incense and candles, and made his way into the Worship Hall.
Inside were three divine statues, with Emperor Zhenwu seated in the center; to the left, Ancestor Sanfeng, and to the right, Ancestor Master Chunyang.
Both were immortals who achieved enlightenment while cultivating at Zhenwu Mountain, and both were huge historical figures.
There weren't too many worshippers at the moment; Zhang Fan, following the guidance of the temple priest, lit the incense and paid his respects to Zhenwu Upper God.
Next, he moved to the statue of Ancestor Sanfeng on the left.
"Wait your turn…"
Li Yishan pulled Zhang Fan and lined up behind two old ladies, who were kneeling on prayer cushions and murmuring wishes, one bowing so forcefully her head thumped audibly.
"Huh!?"
At that moment, Zhang Fan caught sight—out the corner of his eye—of a young woman behind them in line: about 1.7 meters tall, fair-skinned, short hair just grazing her shoulders, bright and lively features, an aura at once ethereal and melancholy, dressed in a water-patterned black satin outfit that really stood out.
"Hurry up and bow!"
Li Yishan's voice snapped Zhang Fan out of it; the two of them fell to their knees before Ancestor Sanfeng's statue and offered three bows.
Upon rising, Zhang Fan abruptly noticed that black-clad girl was staring dead at him—her gaze distant yet persistent, sending a chill up his spine.
"She here alone?" Zhang Fan instinctively surveyed the area, but didn't spot anyone accompanying the black-clad girl.
Solo travel was already rare, especially mountain climbing.
He recalled seeing an 'Level Ten Solitude Chart' online—solo surgery is level 10, solo travel is level 8.
"Let's go pay respects to Ancestor Master Chunyang."
As he spoke, Li Yishan dragged Zhang Fan over to the right side of the hall.
Coincidentally, after the black-clad girl finished with Ancestor Sanfeng, she silently followed them, queueing up behind.
Li Yishan was fully devoted, muttering prayers under his breath, but most of Zhang Fan's mind was elsewhere—he could sense that black-clad girl standing right behind him, making him a bit uneasy.
Right now, it was just the three of them at the right side of the hall.
After the ritual, the two of them got up, saw the black-clad girl step forward, and edged aside to let her through, then walked out of the hall.
Leaving the hall, after they'd gone a short way, Zhang Fan turned to look at the Worship Hall fading into the distance, a little dazed.
"What're you thinking about?"
"You saw that pretty girl back there, right? Why did she…"
Now that they'd left the temple, away from the Ancestors' gaze, Zhang Fan finally dared speak—still turning over that black-clad girl in his mind.
"What pretty girl?"
Li Yishan's face was all confusion—which made Zhang Fan stop in his tracks.