Volume One: The Revival of All Things, Where Spring Reigns Eternal Chapter Eight: The Illusory Mountain Ascent, An Enigmatic Web of Mist

At the foot of Mount Putuo, in the plaza before the world was transformed, this was once a resting place for tourists about to climb the mountain. Now, it had become a gathering spot for the evolved.

“The Murong family of Suzhou invites all those of ambition to ascend the mountain together; all gains will be shared equally!”

A handsome young man stood on the stone steps, accompanied by several others. As he raised his arm and called out, dozens responded enthusiastically.

The Murong family of Suzhou—one of the four great families of Jiangnan—traced its lineage back to the Song Dynasty of ancient China, enduring for more than seven centuries without decline. Before the upheaval of the world, its members were prominent in Jiangnan’s business and political circles. After the official announcement of the era of evolution, the Murong family declared that its patriarch had already shattered delusion and attained new heights.

The young man kept nodding and smiling at the greetings from the evolved, his demeanor gracious and unchanging, exuding the bearing of a true aristocrat.

“That guy acts like this wherever he goes, flaunting his identity as a Murong. It’s as if he’s afraid people won’t know who he is,” Mi Lu muttered under her breath. Mo Wen and Lin Xi glanced at her in unison, prompting Mi Lu to explain, “I know that Murong Hong—he’s an insufferable man! But he is a direct descendant of the Murong family, after all.”

At that moment, Murong Hong also noticed the trio. His eyes lit up when he saw Mi Lu, and he hurried over with evident eagerness.

“Miss Wang, we meet again—what a small world this is!”

So Mi Lu’s surname was Wang; Lin Xi had not introduced her fully before, and only now did Mo Wen learn the truth.

Mi Lu curled her lips, giving Murong Hong a sharp glare. “You philanderer, I have no desire to see you today!”

Murong Hong took the rebuff in stride, showing not a hint of embarrassment. He sized up Mo Wen and Lin Xi, his gaze growing even more fervent.

“Hello, I’m Murong Hong!” He extended his hand and shook hands with both Mo Wen and Lin Xi, saying, “Both of you are flawless-ranked—impressive!”

Though it was praise, it carried little respect. Mo Wen was surprised—he could not discern Murong Hong’s inner cultivation level at all!

He’s at the Divine Pivot stage!

Among those of equal cultivation, one could tell at a glance. Lower-ranked evolvers could not see through someone of higher rank. So this Murong Hong was at least at the Divine Pivot realm.

Mo Wen felt a pang of envy for these scions of noble families. With abundant resources, their starting point in evolution was so much higher than that of ordinary people.

And not just Murong Hong—even among the four followers beside him, there was an old man in traditional garb whose cultivation Mo Wen could not gauge.

After a few polite exchanges, Murong Hong continued to recruit, “Miss Wang, why not join me in the ascent? Should we gain anything, you may have first pick!”

Apparently, Mi Lu disliked Murong Hong, refusing him outright. After a few more courteous words, he turned and left.

About ten minutes later, Murong Hong led his group of dozens up the mountain. The path was shrouded in mist halfway up. Watching people disappear one by one into the fog, Mo Wen felt a pang of unease, just as he had once felt on that ill-fated flight.

“Sister Lin, let’s return to Shanghai. There’s something off about Mount Putuo. Opportunities are all well and good, but you have to survive to enjoy them.”

Mo Wen turned back and spoke calmly. Lin Xi’s expression grew grave. Though he was a newcomer to the police force, after witnessing Mo Wen’s methods on the Huangpu Bridge, she had come to admire him deeply. She trusted his instincts without reservation.

Mi Lu, however, grew anxious and insisted on continuing up the mountain. Mo Wen frowned, exchanging a knowing look with Lin Xi. Something was amiss.

Mi Lu must have ulterior motives.

After repeated questioning, Mi Lu finally revealed the truth.

“My father entered the mountain two days ago and has not been heard from since. I’m worried and want to look for him, but I’m only at the Spirit Core stage, so I asked Sister Lin to come help.”

“Uncle went up the mountain? Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Lin Xi became anxious as well, instructing Mo Wen, “You should go back, little brother. Mi Lu and I will go. Uncle Wang and my father are sworn brothers—I must go!”

Mo Wen fell silent for a moment, then broke into a rakish grin.

“Sister Lin, you’re not the boss of me. Why should I listen to you? Come on, let’s go up together.”

He was certain that Mount Putuo was fraught with danger and could not stand by while Lin Xi risked her life.

Lin Xi was touched, knowing full well Mo Wen’s intentions. In front of the watching crowd, she gave him a perfumed hug. Mo Wen quickly stepped back, hands spread in protest.

Mi Lu thanked him earnestly in a low voice. Mo Wen smiled in return. Once prepared, the three began their ascent from the plaza, climbing the stone steps.

As they drew near the mist, the black orb within Mo Wen pulsed with delight, eager to absorb the fog just as it had on the Huangpu Bridge.

The black orb and the ascetic’s scripture were Mo Wen’s greatest secrets, ones he did not wish to reveal. He sent a silent message to the orb, instructing it not to act rashly.

Unlike the fog at the bridge, the mist on Mount Putuo was like a natural barrier. Even with his flawless body, Mo Wen could see only a few meters ahead. The mist filled the mountain evenly, and when he looked back, the path they had come was lost from sight.

No wonder none of the evolved had returned. Mi Lu, clearly her first time encountering such mist, clung nervously to Lin Xi’s hand. Lin Xi, intentionally or not, brushed her palm against Mo Wen’s. He did not shrink away, but simply took her hand in his own.

Shortly before the trio entered the fog, several others had gone in as well, yet on the single mountain path, they saw no one else. Fearing they might become separated, Mo Wen decided they should hold hands as they walked.

All was silent. The further they went, the more uneasy Mo Wen felt. Were it not for Mi Lu’s presence, he would have used the orb to absorb the mist and see what lay beneath.

The stone steps seemed endless, unchanging. After an hour, fatigue overtook Mi Lu, and the three sat down on the steps. Mo Wen fell into deep thought; Lin Xi grew silent as well.

“What should we do? Keep walking? I’ve climbed Mount Putuo many times before—the trail was never like this.”

In the end, it was Mi Lu who broke the silence, her voice trembling.

Mo Wen considered calmly and gradually understood the rules of this place. The mist was an illusion—they were already trapped within it. To go on would be futile.

Lin Xi gently scratched Mo Wen’s palm with her finger, a ticklish sensation both strange and reassuring. He circulated his inner breath into his palm, the warmth easing Lin Xi’s anxiety. Mo Wen hesitated: should he let the orb absorb the mist? Unless absolutely necessary, he did not want to reveal the orb in front of others.

Suddenly, the tolling of a bell resounded from all directions, each peal striking at their hearts. When nine tones had sounded, the scene shifted as if in a film: Mo Wen looked around and found that the three of them now stood on level ground—the stone steps were gone, and the mist grew even denser.

From the distance came faint footsteps, dull and growing steadily closer. Something was approaching.

Instinctively, Lin Xi and Mi Lu edged closer to Mo Wen. His inner breath surged, his entire being radiating vigorous energy. The sound was now only a few meters away—within sight, a thin figure emerged from the fog.

“Who goes there?” Mo Wen called out loudly.

The newcomer did not answer, only continued to approach step by step, finally stopping about five meters away. Now, the trio could see the newcomer’s face clearly.

It was an old Daoist.

“Isn’t that the mountain hermit? How could he be here? After breaking through to the Divine Pivot before everyone, he simply drifted away—they said he left for Shengsi Island!” Mi Lu exclaimed.

She had seen the hermit before; her own father had entered the mountain after witnessing the hermit’s public breakthrough.

“Master!” Mi Lu called softly.

In reply came a chilling laugh.

“Heh heh!”

The old Daoist let out two more eerie laughs, shrill and piercing, making their scalps tingle.

“Two flawless bodies—excellent, just the nourishment my Divine Flower needs! Three more days, three more days...”

His eyes were empty as he spoke, voice shriveled, as if muttering to himself.

Divine Flower? Nourishment?

Connecting the dots, Mo Wen understood.

He had never witnessed a Divine Pivot evolver in action and dared not strike rashly. The old Daoist glanced at them once more, then slowly turned and walked away.

Mo Wen now understood the scheme: the Daoist had deliberately achieved his breakthrough in public to lure evolvers into the mountain, intending to use their flesh and blood to nourish a plant. Three days from now, the entrapped evolvers would likely be sacrificed to it.

Three days.

He could not sit and await death. The Daoist had not gone far when Mo Wen steeled himself, released Lin Xi’s hand, and with a few swift leaps caught up with the old Daoist, blocking his path.

“You’re not going anywhere!”

He silently recited the scripture, channeled his inner energy to the utmost, and, with both palms, unleashed a full-force strike at the Daoist.