Chapter 2: Lingbao Temple on Maple Mountain

A strange bloodline flowed through this cat — it was no ordinary creature. Three years ago, Li Qingyun had come across it by chance from an old hunter, and named it Yuanbao.

According to the old hunter, he had found it while hunting in the mountains.

In his previous life, Li Qingyun had been an avid cat lover. Now that he had arrived in this other world and had the means, of course he had to get one.

As the black cat Yuanbao grew into adulthood, it became increasingly mysterious — seemingly able to sense and intimidate ghosts and spirits. It was also immensely strong and swift, scaling walls and leaping rooftops, slipping in and out of the Marquis's manor as if the place were deserted.

It even carried its own "lucky cat" aura, occasionally dragging back all manner of curious objects for Li Qingyun.

Things like the jewelry of Lady Cui, the Mistress of the Manor; the Heir's prized collection of erotic books; Yin Xunshan's strange and eerie jars and vials; and even Cui Wan'er's hairpins, among other things.

But it had also brought back something truly valuable — the Clear Yang Fish, the most prized treasure of the Clear Yang River.

It had suppressed its innate feline instinct to devour fish and instead delivered the spiritual fish to Li Qingyun — a remarkably devoted act of "spoiling" its owner.

It was precisely thanks to those two Clear Yang Fish that Li Qingyun had greatly accelerated the accumulation of his blood qi and Yang Blight energy.

What a pity...

Now, Yin Xunshan — or perhaps the Mistress and the Heir behind him — was unwilling to even spare this great black cat.

Seeing Yuanbao escape right before his eyes, Yin Xunshan felt his face burn with humiliation. He turned a furious glare on Li Qingyun, who had gotten in his way.

"Wretched beast!"

He suddenly raised his hand, and a Bone Spike flew out from his sleeve.

A flash of dark light flickered, then whoosh — it vanished into the forest in pursuit.

"Mrow!"

From deep within the forest came Yuanbao's sudden, anguished cry, followed by what seemed like a flash of blood-red light.

Then the Bone Spike returned along the same path, trailing wisps of bloody aura, and disappeared back into Yin Xunshan's sleeve.

"I have long been displeased with that wretched beast! My apologies, Third Young Master — I lost control of my hand just now. That creature has been struck by my magical artifact; it likely won't last long."

Yin Xunshan wore a smug expression as he fixed a provocative gaze on Li Qingyun.

"The Cui Clan of Hejian truly lives up to its overbearing reputation. Even a mere servant under their banner is this brazen."

A barely perceptible sharpness flashed across Li Qingyun's handsome face — but in the end, it dissolved into two quiet sighs.

He slowly closed his eyes again and returned to his silent, expressionless state.

"Yuanbao's chances are slim. As your master, I couldn't even protect you..."

Throughout the journey, he had already witnessed Yin Xunshan's capabilities.

The old Yin was quite formidable. Along the road, they had encountered several wandering spirits and demon beasts, all of which he had dispatched with ease.

In this world, demons and monsters ran rampant, while Cultivation Sects stood in a position of supreme transcendence. Ordinary people could only live in relative safety under the protection of such transcendent powers.

Between common mortals and the lofty sects, there had emerged various "watered-down" transcendent clans and what were known as Unorthodox Path factions.

In the territory of the Ghostly Realm of You where Li Qingyun resided, the royal family was essentially the most powerful of these secular clans.

These factions nestled among the common people, willingly serving as suppliers of resources and tribute for the great and small Cultivation Sects that backed them.

The Cui Clan of Hejian was one such particularly vast and powerful noble clan.

Ever since Lady Cui had married the Marquis of Qinghe, Yin Xunshan — who served at her side — had quickly risen to become the Head Steward of the manor.

In the past, Head Steward Yin had kept a low profile, and Li Qingyun had never known he was also a master capable of driving away ghosts and subduing demons!

"Third Young Master, some people think themselves noble and fail to see reality clearly. Little do they know they are just like this little cat — utterly insignificant. Ha ha ha..."

Watching the silent Li Qingyun, Yin Xunshan could not help but laugh freely and without restraint.

Li Qingyun did not open his eyes, nor did he grow angry. But he committed the face of this wicked servant to memory.

His brow and eyes were cool and distant, threaded through with a faint, quiet desolation.

It was as though all his fury, resentment, and regret had sunk to the bottom of a deep, still sea within his heart.

As if he had truly accepted his fate.

"Ha ha ha, Third Young Master, now that's more like it. If only you had been this sensible from the start..."

In Yin Xunshan's eyes, this change in demeanor meant the boy's proud spirit had finally been ground away entirely.

Contemptuous laughter echoed through the carriage.

Each peal seemed designed to trample what little dignity remained in the young man's heart into the mud — to crush that unyielding spirit inch by inch, until he became nothing more than a stray dog that could only whimper helplessly, too broken to resist.

"My Lady has said: focus on cultivating the Dao. In the future, unless something comes up, there is no need to return to the manor."

"Ah yes, My Lady also said — though cultivation is important, Third Young Master must still write a letter home each month, reporting your safety to My Lord Marquis and My Lady, and providing a detailed account of your cultivation progress."

Yin Xunshan fixed the young man with an unbridled stare and delivered his deeply insulting words in an unhurried, deliberate tone:

"After all, you do carry My Lord Marquis's blood in your veins. Even if you were a dog or a cat, My Lady has always been kind-hearted and would still spare you a thought or two..."

Under that piercing gaze, Li Qingyun — eyes half-lidded — slowly nodded.

Only then did Yin Xunshan allow a satisfied smile to cross his face.

In his heart, Head Steward Yin thought with contempt: "What outstanding talent, what remarkable strategic genius — in My Lady's and the Heir's eyes, he is nothing more than a bastard son to be casually suppressed whenever convenient.

What's laughable is that this naïve, almost endearing Third Young Master had genuinely believed, in years past, that he might receive the Marquis's Yang Blight technique and perhaps even inherit the title one day.

Little did he know that in My Lady's and the Heir's eyes, he was nothing but a joke!"

The Heir had broken his body in his early years, leaving him with no hope of entering the Yang Blight Refinement path. How could a mere bastard son dare to harbor such wishful thinking?

Maple Mountain blazed like fire, its forests dyed in brilliant red, the entire mountain awash in crimson.

Atop the high summit stood a Daoist temple of imposing grandeur, rising magnificently against the sky.

Its upturned eaves and gilded roof gleamed brilliantly, standing out vividly amid the fiery maple leaves that blanketed the mountain.

Several thick plumes of incense smoke spiraled upward from below like signal fires, testament to the temple's thriving popularity among worshippers.

At the foot of the mountain.

"Honored guests, please halt. Those wishing to offer incense and pray, seek the suppression of demons and spirits, pray for children, or visit as sightseers — please take the main ascent road to the side. The path behind me is for disciples of the temple to enter and exit..."

A young Daoist dressed in blue robes with a longsword strapped to his back raised a hand to stop the approaching luxurious carriage, his thick brows arching slightly.

The carriage came to a halt. Yin Xunshan, dressed in fine robes, jumped down first.

"Fellow Daoist, we are not worshippers. We are here to escort the young master of our household to enter the temple and cultivate the Dao."

In the presence of the young Daoist, Yin Xunshan involuntarily showed a measure of deference. He clasped his hands in a respectful bow, then casually pulled back the carriage curtain and called out with a flippant smile:

"Third Young Master, time to head up the mountain!"

Under everyone's watchful gaze, Li Qingyun — his complexion pale and drained of color — stepped slowly down from the carriage, a large bundle draped over one arm.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Li Qingyun raised his head and looked toward the mountain path behind the young Daoist.

The path was veiled in a faint white mist that even sunlight seemed unable to penetrate. On either side, crimson maple leaves adorned the way, lending it an air of serene, otherworldly stillness — as though it belonged to a realm apart from the mortal world, carrying the quiet charm of transcendent immortals.

This stirred a faint flicker of hope in Li Qingyun's heart.

When it came to power and mystery, these Daoist temple mountain-gate factions stood far above the secular world.

He even suspected that the temples built in the mortal world were merely the outward face of those mysterious Cultivation Sects.

The true sects, he imagined, lay within Blessed Grotto-Heavens beyond the reach of ordinary mortals.

Though his Primal Yang Essence was gone and he had lost his chance at the Unorthodox Path, coming here to join Lingbao Temple at least offered him one last sliver of a chance to touch transcendent power once more.

Yet this body of his — shortly after birth, an expert invited by the Marquis of Qinghe had examined his Dao Bone and tested what was called his Spiritual Root, and had regretfully concluded that he possessed no aptitude for orthodox cultivation or Dao comprehension.

This was likely one of the main reasons Lady Cui and the Heir felt comfortable letting him enter the temple.

In this world, the threshold for orthodox cultivation was extraordinarily high — which was precisely why so many Unorthodox Paths had emerged, such as Li Qingyun's own family's Yang Blight Refinement.