Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Verdant Hills Leave No Regrets

The elder from the ancestral temple arrived, holding a painting, and An Le ceased practicing the shattering sword force. He slowly drew the Bamboo Sword of Green Mountain from the old locust tree, fastening it at his waist. Whether it was an illusion or not, An Le felt the sword fit his grip more naturally now.

"Swords possess a spirit. It senses hope within you, and the spirit hidden within the blade will gradually awaken. Don't be deceived by Green Mountain's battered appearance—it can cut through anything. You are still far from mastering it," the elder said. "A sword is a swordsman's best companion, but you are still too inexperienced."

Seated on a bamboo chair, the elder poured a cup of aged yellow wine, drank it in one gulp, and laughed. An Le caressed the Bamboo Sword of Green Mountain, finding himself increasingly fond of this unattractive, broken bamboo blade.

"You started late—only at eighteen, which is a pity. You must quickly improve yourself to be worthy of Green Mountain, so it doesn't end up with regrets," the elder sighed, drinking his wine, a flash of loneliness in his eyes. Perhaps he had once left Green Mountain with regrets and did not wish for the youth to repeat his mistakes.

An Le smiled, his words firm and earnest amid the gentle wind and rain, "Green Mountain will not be left with regrets." Having come to this world and encountered the splendid path of cultivation, he was determined not to let life pass with regrets.

His previous life had been fleeting and mundane, shackled by constraints, filled with helplessness and ordinariness. Childhood spent at the youth palace, school, and home—a triangle, elementary, middle, high school, adulthood in the blink of an eye. He poured all his time and energy into painting, finally gaining admission to the art academy at the cost of his entire youth—only to transmigrate.

Those years held many regrets: the result of his mechanical struggle, the farewell to his era. But this world was dazzling and colorful; to embark upon cultivation, to sense the beauty of heaven and earth, to wear Green Mountain at his side—he would not waste his life. The taste of regret was too bitter; he would not endure it again.

An Le poured a cup of aged yellow wine and drank with the elder. The clouds parted above, and the bright moon shone like a goddess ascending to the heavens, gentle as water. Moonlight illuminated the branches of the old locust tree and the tender leaves newly sprouted by spring rain, casting mottled shadows.

Draining his cup, An Le gazed at the moon and laughed lightly, "There are those who learn early and those who learn late; the latecomers may surpass the early. Do not worry, elder."

Hearing the resolve in the youth's words, the elder's eyes filled with admiration. He stroked his beard and laughed heartily, raising his cup. Afterwards, they spoke no more of cultivation, instead taking out the painting and, together under the moonlight, drank and discussed art.

...

Spring's third month arrived, ninety days of continuous rain. Spring rain always came without warning; a moment after it stopped it would return before half a day had warmed, weaving mist and drizzle, watering the green fields, falling like fine hairs or beaded curtains, enveloping the world.

The spring of Lin’an Prefecture, nourished by the rain, became even more beautiful. Streets and alleys overflowed with budding leaves and flowers, hastened by the moisture. Walking beside West Lake, strolling the long embankment, or resting in a pavilion, one could witness life in every direction.

After requesting leave from Lady Hua, she granted An Le three days to stay home and cultivate, to nourish his spirit in preparation for the opening of the Sixth Mountain. An Le declined at first, but Lady Hua explained that the young masters must also prepare for the mountain's opening; painting would be paused for now. Thus, An Le saw no reason to refuse.

...

At dawn, bathed in spring rain, clad in white, he practiced the Five Beasts technique amid the drizzle; bones rang, blood boiled, and his vitality reached fullness, beginning to condense and spread through his bones. An Le knew he was only a step away from the second stage of body refinement—the Spirit Bone. Perhaps a single opportunity would allow him to cross the threshold.

Demonic energy from the treasure jade continued to seep into his body during practice, tempering his flesh and making him stronger. The demonic energy enhanced his appearance, not only making him more handsome but also adding an alluring, captivating charm.

Contemplating the Sword Cascade, refining the Five Beasts, practicing the shattering sword force... An Le had his own plans for cultivation. Reading was important; in his spare time he made room for study, reading books related to the imperial examination, works of renowned scholars, and the masterpieces of famous writers. He believed that reading a hundred times reveals the meaning, and held fast to the idea that books could change his fate.

Even as he pursued cultivation, he would not abandon reading. Even Lady Hua, a formidable figure, read scholarly works every morning while drinking tea at Tianbo Pavilion. How could An Le, then, neglect his studies? Moreover, with the spring examinations approaching, he could not let cultivation distract him from learning.

He read while walking to West Lake, as always, hoping to glimpse the coldly beautiful, aloof but fallen fairy, Yunrou. From the passage of time he learned that Yunrou was powerful in cultivation, yet content to be a courtesan among flower boats. Though she was the head courtesan, famed far and wide, the profession was humble, not matching her identity as a cultivator. Even the first brothel of Lin’an, Linhua Pavilion, had some cultivators among its girls, but they were only beginners—just a gimmick. A prodigy like Yunrou was rare.

Unfortunately, after lingering at West Lake for a while, treading through spring rain, he did not encounter Yunrou for the third day in a row. Leaving West Lake, he returned to Qingbo Street, Ancestral Temple Alley.

An Le set a table, prepared tea cups, and a charcoal stove boiled water beside him. He brewed tea, sat quietly at the doorway facing the old locust tree, and began to contemplate the "Sword Cascade Scroll," letting his spirit, newly entered into fetal breath meditation, slowly gather.

The blessing of the "Talent of the Ages" Dao fruit accelerated his cultivation greatly.

He had no need to work at the Lin family mansion; the only regret was missing the chance to absorb the energy of time. Luck on the streets was uncertain; he might not meet other cultivators. The energy from the elder was beyond his ability to draw now.

Still, he felt little regret. When the Sixth Mountain opened, surely many cultivators would gather, and he could absorb enough then.

The rain came and went, fine and sparse, never too much nor too little.

He watched spring rain from his doorway.

Tea, contemplation, and quietude.

...

Three days passed in a flash.

The spring rain stopped and started again, as if growing more enthusiastic to greet the opening of the Sacred Mountain's Sixth Peak.

An Le rose early, the sky still dim, spring rain drifting like silver threads in the dawn.

...

He donned clean, wide-sleeved white robes. Three days of demonic energy tempering had brought him to the verge of forging the Spirit Bone; he was only a step from breaking through. Thus, his entire bearing grew taller, his features radiant as jade.

At his waist hung Green Mountain and the demon-tempered treasure jade. He opened an oil-paper umbrella, locked the courtyard gate, and walked through the narrow streams between the flagstones of Ancestral Temple Alley.

The alley was quiet; high walls on either side, a few peach branches poked out, their pink blossoms split by the rain, falling onto the stones, sticking to his feet, smearing traces of pink.

Today was the opening day of the Sixth Mountain, and the atmosphere across Lin’an seemed to have changed. The fetal breath meditation enveloped him, allowing him to sense the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, which flowed faster as cultivators' hearts surged.

Just as the Literary Academy was the sacred place for scholars, and the Martial Temple for warriors, the Sacred Mountain was the supreme force of Great Zhao and all of the Central Lands, a holy ground for countless cultivators.

To enter the Sixth Mountain—even just to serve as a guardian—was a leap in status.

Thus, as the mountain opening decree echoed through Lin’an, cultivators from all around Great Zhao and the four corners of the Central Lands flocked here, some chasing distant dreams, others simply joining the excitement.

An Le, umbrella in hand, reached the mouth of the alley, suddenly realizing a serious problem. The Sixth Mountain was renowned, but... he had no idea where to go.

Gazing at the rain-washed Qingbo Street, he scratched his head and looked toward the distant, majestic octagonal, double-eaved tower that radiated grandeur.

The ancestral temple still burned incense, shrouded in dawn and spring.

The elder had said he’d take him to the Sixth Mountain today, but there was no sign of movement.

An Le approached the temple, not stepping inside, and bowed respectfully from several meters away.

"Don’t be anxious, young friend. Spring sleep is hard to wake from. I’ll catch up on my rest today, won’t go with you. Someone will come to guide you," the elder’s lazy, cheerful voice drifted out.

An Le was taken aback.

Amid spring breeze and rain, the sound of wheels splashing through the flagstone streams suddenly approached.

At some point, a luxurious carriage turned a corner, rolling slowly from the end of Qingbo Street.

An Le stood with his umbrella by the alley. The carriage stopped beside him.

A pale hand emerged from the carriage window, lightly lifting the curtain, revealing Lady Hua’s exquisite, radiant face, unseen for several days.

Lady Hua first nodded slightly toward the ancestral temple, then her autumn-water eyes fell upon An Le, her lips curved at the corners.

"This way to the Sixth Mountain. I’ll take you."

"Master An, please get in."