Chapter Sixty-Two: The Oath of the Dao Heart, The Choice of the Holy Son

Once our destination was decided, we bid farewell to the people of Mount Shu. Master Qingxuan escorted us to the entrance of the resort, expressing his gratitude repeatedly, and carefully made copies of the two cultivation techniques, treating them as precious treasures to take back to his sect.

Just before our departure, Ling Qingzhu stepped forward. Her cold, clear eyes now shimmered with a subtle, unfamiliar light. She looked at me, then at Yuan Hao, and finally addressed me, “Mr. Jiang, the journey to Kunlun is no trivial matter. The Kunlun sect leader is brilliant, but also domineering. Please… take care.”

“Thank you,” I nodded.

“If you need anything, Mount Shu is willing to lend you a hand.” Though her words were light, their weight was immense. This meant that the Mount Shu Sect was willing to repay this favor, even if it meant standing against Kunlun.

Yuan Hao was deeply moved. Not so long ago, Kunlun and Mount Shu were bitter rivals. Now, everything had changed because of the man before him.

We got into the car, the off-road vehicle roaring to life once more, this time bound for the distant Kunlun Mountains.

Inside, the atmosphere was even more delicate than when we first arrived. Yuan Hao sat in the passenger seat, hands clenched tightly, torn between conflicting emotions. On one side, his sect—the place that raised and nurtured him, the source of immense gratitude. On the other, the elder Jiang, who illuminated his path to true cultivation. He knew well that Mr. Jiang's trip to Kunlun would inevitably lead to great conflict with his sect.

“You’re wondering who you should help?” I asked quietly as I drove.

Yuan Hao stiffened, as if his thoughts had been laid bare. He hesitated, then replied bitterly, “I… don’t know. The sect’s kindness is boundless, but the elder’s guidance is life-changing. My heart is in turmoil.”

“This isn’t turmoil. It’s ‘choosing a path,’” I said, gazing ahead, my voice calm. “You’re not choosing to help me or your sect. You must decide between ‘the benefit of the sect’ and ‘the truth of cultivation.’”

“The benefit of the sect… the truth of cultivation…” Yuan Hao repeated, chewing over the words.

“Your sect seeks to preserve Kunlun’s dominance, to control the discourse of the ancient martial world. That is ‘benefit.’ But you have glimpsed the vistas above the Divine Sea, peered into the threshold of the Golden Core Path. That is ‘truth.’ When ‘benefit’ and ‘truth’ collide, your heart will guide you to where you belong.”

I said nothing more.

We drove westward, the scenery outside shifting from graceful mountains and rivers to a vast, desolate grandeur. The altitude rose steadily, and the air grew thin.

When the snow-capped mountains appeared on the horizon, Yuan Hao slowly opened his tightly shut eyes. The confusion and inner struggle in his gaze had faded, replaced by unprecedented clarity and resolve.

He seemed to have made his choice.

“Elder,” he turned to me, meeting my eyes with solemnity, “I understand now. Kunlun’s strength should not rest upon a single artifact, but upon the true Path. If my sect clings to ‘benefit’ and abandons ‘truth,’ it is no longer the Kunlun I aspire to.”

He bowed deeply to me.

“This journey, I shall guide you and do my utmost to mediate. If… if reconciliation proves impossible, I am willing to follow you in pursuit of the ultimate truth!”

I nodded with satisfaction. This uncut gem was finally beginning to shine as it should.

The off-road vehicle could go no further. We stopped at a supply station at the base of the Kunlun Mountains. The rest of the journey would be on foot.

Yuan Hao changed into the white, close-fitting attire of the Kunlun Sect and led the way. He walked the snow-covered mountain paths as if treading level ground, each step imbued with a unique rhythm, subtly resonating with the land itself. This was Kunlun’s secret movement technique—“Snow Steps Without Trace.”

Yi Yi and I followed, as leisurely as tourists climbing a mountain. Yi Yi wore a thick down jacket, her cheeks rosy from the cold but radiating excitement, occasionally grabbing handfuls of snow and playing with it curiously.

The Kunlun sect gate was far more grand and forbidding than Mount Shu’s. A massive archway stood in the wind and snow, inscribed with four bold characters: “Ancestor of All Mountains.” Its presence was awe-inspiring.

Seeing Yuan Hao return, the disciple guarding the mountain was first delighted, then cautious upon spotting Yi Yi and me behind him.

“Holy Son, you’re back! Who are these two?”

“This is Elder Jiang, to whom I owe a great debt. This is his daughter,” Yuan Hao replied in a firm voice. “I must see the sect leader and elders at once—I have urgent matters to report.”

The disciple dared not delay and immediately sent word.

Soon, we were guided through layers of palatial halls, arriving at a platform perched atop a sheer cliff.

This was Kunlun’s “Cliff of Inquiry.”

The platform was paved with a single enormous slab of white jade, smooth as a mirror. Mist swirled at the edge, obscuring the depths below. There, the Haotian Mirror awaited.

The mirror was not a solid object, but a swirl of gentle, luminous energy, ancient and boundless. A single glance brought serenity, washing away all distractions.

Before the jade platform, several elders already stood, their presence deep and formidable. At the forefront was a man clad in a purple robe edged with gold, crowned with jade, his face stern and dignified. He was none other than the current leader of Kunlun, acclaimed as the greatest in the ancient martial world—Xuan Tianzong.

Xuan Tianzong’s gaze was sharp as an eagle. He glanced briefly at Yuan Hao and nodded, then focused all his attention on me.

He could not see through me.

I was like a deep sea—smooth and calm on the surface, but concealing unfathomable power beneath.

“Hao’er, you have returned,” Xuan Tianzong spoke, his voice resonating across the cliffs, “You say you have urgent matters and bring two guests. What is this about?”

Yuan Hao stepped forward, about to speak.

I stopped him with a smile and met Xuan Tianzong’s gaze directly.

“I have come for one reason: to take the Haotian Mirror.”

My words sent shockwaves through the assembly.

The atmosphere on the Cliff of Inquiry instantly grew tense, as if the air itself had frozen.

As soon as my words fell, the temperature seemed to drop further.

A hot-tempered elder with a ruddy face behind Xuan Tianzong shouted, “Audacious scoundrel! How dare you covet Kunlun’s divine artifact! Seize him!”

Several Kunlun guardians’ auras surged, their bodies shifting as they prepared to surround me. Even the wind and snow seemed to be stirred into a frenzy by the murderous intent.

Xuan Tianzong did not immediately erupt, but his stern gaze flashed coldly. He had ruled Kunlun for decades, and never had anyone dared to so openly declare their intention to take the foundation of Kunlun in his presence.

At that critical moment, Yuan Hao stepped forward, blocking me from the elders.

“Master! Uncles! Please, restrain yourselves!” His voice was hoarse with urgency. “This Elder Jiang is the peerless master I told you about on the phone—the one who enlightened my cultivation path!”

His words caused the elders on the verge of action to halt abruptly, disbelief written across their faces.

Xuan Tianzong’s intense aura also paused, his sharp eyes flicking between Yuan Hao and me, full of scrutiny and doubt. “Hao’er, what are you saying? Is he… the one who revealed the century-old barrier in Kunlun’s cultivation—the ‘Elder’ you spoke of?”

He could not reconcile the “master” who had shaken his heart and whom he’d considered visiting in person, with the seemingly ordinary young man before him, accompanied by his daughter.

“It’s absolutely true!” Yuan Hao explained urgently. “Master, do you recall the theory of ‘Divine Sea transforms into spring, the spring yields true water’? That was Elder Jiang’s guidance at the Crescent Spring by Tianshan, enlightening both me and Ling Qingzhu of Mount Shu! Mount Shu also received a great favor from him, which turned a duel between me and Ling Qingzhu into friendship!”

He swiftly recounted the events at Tianshan, the connection with Mount Shu, and described the profound meanings behind Jiang Xiuyuan’s “Minor Refining Technique” and “True Explanation of Condensing the Core.”

After hearing Yuan Hao’s account, silence reigned on the Cliff of Inquiry.

The hostility on the elders’ faces gradually faded, replaced by deep shock and uncertainty. As Kunlun’s core leadership, they understood well what the “Divine Sea transforms into spring” theory meant for Kunlun, not to mention the significance of “Minor Refining Technique” and “True Explanation of Condensing the Core.” These were doctrines capable of overturning their current cultivation system and guiding them to higher realms.

The cold light in Xuan Tianzong’s eyes finally receded. He reassessed me, his gaze deep as the sea. If Yuan Hao spoke the truth, the worth of the man before him far surpassed that of the Haotian Mirror.

He waved his hand, signaling the elders to stand down. The tension eased at last.

“So it is Mr. Jiang in person—Xuan Tian was blind not to recognize greatness. Forgive my disrespect.” Xuan Tianzong offered a slight hand salute, his tone now much more courteous, though still bearing the authority and caution of a sect leader. “But, since you are the master who enlightened Hao’er, why would you come and request to take Kunlun’s treasured artifact? This is difficult for me to understand.”

He placed the contradiction between “master” and “forceful taking” side by side, his words still tinged with inquiry.

I smiled faintly.