Chapter Twenty-Two: As If Awakened from a Dream

At some unknown moment, the tranquil chamber had become infested with countless black serpents, their tongues flickering ominously.
“What is this?”
Wang Ling, struggling against the numbing chill that threatened to freeze him, stepped back, a trace of fear in his heart.
Serpents of all sizes emerged from every corner of the room—from the ceiling, the walls, the floor, and even from cracks beneath the stone. They crawled across the chamber, creating a scene so terrifying that it could make anyone faint from fright.
Though Wang Ling did not lose consciousness, he sensed grave danger emanating from the serpents.
Cultivators often practiced in special meditation rooms, guarded by others or fortified with artifacts to ward off evil spirits.
This particular chamber at Jun Tian Temple had always been meticulously arranged for the use of the temple’s leader.
Yet even these elaborate defenses could not keep out the malevolence of this world.
The serpents, vague and shadowy, were clearly manifestations of the world’s malice and deadly energies.
The more illusory they appeared, the more perilous they became.
The swarm slithered closer, their rustling sounds making Wang Ling’s skin crawl.
The serpents were black as ink; even their eyes and tongues were pitch-dark, making them look especially horrifying.
One snake struck at Wang Ling with lightning speed, but was repelled by a radiant aura surrounding him. With a hiss, it dissolved into black smoke.
The other serpents hesitated, momentarily refraining from attack.
Wang Ling forced himself to remain calm and began to recite the incantations recorded in the temple’s ancient annals, forming the necessary gestures with his hands.
Normally, the ritual would take only half a minute at most,
yet for Wang Ling, this half-minute felt endlessly long.
He watched as the swarm encircled him; the nearest serpent was barely half a meter away, hanging from the ceiling, swaying as if ready to strike.
But Wang Ling, unnervingly calm, showed not a trace of fear. Like an observer, his mind unmoved, he completed the ritual.
A powerful surge emanated from his spirit, and a ray of light shot forth.
The stone walls grew hazy as mist seeped through.
The serpents were struck by the wave; in an instant they scattered, vanishing into the ceiling, walls, and floor.
Those too slow to escape were vaporized by the light.

The next moment, Wang Ling returned to his body and bowed before the ancestral tablets of Jun Tian Temple. “Thank you, venerable ancestors, for your aid. Though I was not born of Jun Tian Temple, I have benefited greatly from its teachings.
From this day forward, I shall regard myself as a successor of Jun Tian Temple, and carry on its tradition… From now on, I shall be called Wang Zhenling!”
“Zhen” was the generational name of the current temple master, Zhen Yunzi, whose given name was Zhao Zhenyun.
Wang Ling—now Wang Zhenling—spoke with conviction, then turned and stepped into the mist.
He found himself once more in the chamber of the Spirit Pool.
Half the pool’s water remained, and the lotus was still half-open, half-closed.
Yet what astonished Wang Zhenling was that, upon his return, the mist in the cave seemed thinner, revealing paintings on the stone walls.
“What are these…”
Wang Zhenling gazed in wonder. Nine murals, lifelike and vivid, adorned the walls.
At first glance, they seemed typical of temple art, depicting scenes of the celestial realms.
But upon closer inspection, he realized they were much more.
Painted by true masters, the murals radiated an unforgettable spiritual essence.
A single look, and Wang Zhenling felt himself transported into their world, journeying through the Nine Heavens.
“This is the Diagram of Nine Heavens’ Longevity and Creation, the secret art of Jun Tian Temple!”
He murmured softly, astonished.
He had never imagined that the temple’s foundational secret would be hidden here.
No wonder he could never find it before.
Perhaps, it was his final gesture that earned him the ancestors’ approval, allowing him to see the nine murals.
Wang Zhenling closed his eyes, and the images seemed engraved upon his mind, clear and indelible.
“Thank you, revered ancestors!”
With a gentle sigh, Wang Zhenling approached the Spirit Pool.
He was cautious, not daring to breathe deeply or touch the water.
He now understood that the mist in the air was concentrated spiritual energy, and the pool’s water was its most refined form.

Each drop of spirit water represented an enormous amount of spiritual essence.
The pool itself was the gathered energy of the entire blessed land—once depleted, it could not be replenished.
It was said that the outside world’s spiritual energy had dissipated, leaving the Spirit Pool isolated and irreplaceable.
“Legend has it that in Jun Tian Temple’s golden age, this pool was as vast as the sea… Now, only this small basin remains…”
Even this was thanks to Zhen Yunzi’s efforts, who resorted to various means to collect and refine spiritual energy, barely maintaining the pool’s current size.
More critically, to return home, the lotus had to fully bloom.
Each time the Transcendent Lotus opened, it consumed immense amounts of spiritual energy.
This pool might barely suffice for two or three more crossings…
But now, Wang Zhenling had no choice but to use these reserves!
He raised his hand, formed the incantation, and channeled his true energy, murmuring the spell: “Swift!”
A thunderous tremor shook the pool. The Transcendent Lotus slowly blossomed.
The spirit water dropped rapidly, as if drained dry.
When only half the water remained, Wang Zhenling’s heart pounded with anxiety, fearing the pool might not suffice. Then a beam of light shot forth.
A gateway of light appeared, and Wang Zhenling wasted no time, stepping through it.
After several days’ absence, his humble cottage was unchanged, save for a thin layer of dust.
The ring of light settled into the jade box—the Jade Pivot between the two realms—and gradually faded.
Everything felt dreamlike and unreal.
Yet, as Wang Zhenling looked inward, he knew that nothing could be faked.
His spirit, once a vague white shadow, was now clear and human in form.
His expression grew radiant!
The manifestation of the spirit—in his previous life, it had taken him a dozen years to reach this stage. Unexpectedly, in this world, just a few short years had brought him to such a realm!