Chapter Fifty: What is the Meaning of the Nine Provinces of the Mysterious Heavens?

Zhong Ming wore a smile that never reached his eyes, inwardly scoffing: Fate, they say? Nonsense. They’ve calculated it all, deliberately maneuvering themselves to me.

Though he felt dissatisfied, Zhong Ming betrayed nothing on his face. He was too slick for that. He replied, “Indeed, it seems I am fated to meet the Daoist Master.”

The old Daoist flashed his large yellow teeth in a grin. Whether he sensed Zhong Ming’s perfunctory tone or not, he turned to Old Sun and said, “Village Chief Sun, I believe your constitution is rather frail. It’s not good for you to stay indoors too long; you should go out for a stroll instead.”

“Daoist Master, my grandfather’s body is weak. Is he really suited for a walk?” Sun Luolian was just about to protest, but Old Sun smiled and interrupted, “I think Master Zhang is quite right. I ought to take a walk. Xiaolian, help your grandfather outside and let’s clear my mind.”

With that, Old Sun propped himself against the bed, stood up, and, leaning on Sun Luolian, made his way out.

Passing by Fei Dacheng, he said, “Da Chi, why don’t you check on Hei Zi? He’s all alone at home; I wonder if anyone’s tending to him.”

Fei Dacheng slapped his forehead, exclaiming, “Ah, I nearly forgot. I’ll go give Brother Hei his medicine right away.”

Fei Dacheng hurried out, and Old Sun left as well, supported by Sun Luolian. The tiny thatched hut was left with only the two mysterious Daoists and Zhong Ming.

Just moments before, Old Sun and the old Daoist had been probing one another, two seasoned elders testing the waters.

The old Daoist’s underlying intent was clear: he wanted everyone else out so he could speak privately with Zhong Ming. Zhong Ming caught the hint easily. He got up, closed the door, and then sat down again, saying, “Master Daoist, now that everyone’s gone, please speak freely.”

The old Daoist laughed heartily, exposing his yellow teeth even more. “Zhong Ming, you are a clever man, sharp as a blade.”

“You flatter me,” Zhong Ming replied, half-smiling and saluting lightly. He felt little warmth toward the old Daoist whose every move seemed calculated.

The old Daoist appeared unconcerned. He raised his hand to introduce himself, “My name is Zhang Daozhen, thirteenth-generation disciple of the Dan Ding Sect. My young pupil here is Zhang Nianchen. We greet you again, Zhong Ming.”

Zhang Daozhen?

The old Daoist’s name carried the character “Dao,” a significant detail. If it had been any other Daoist, Zhong Ming would have thought nothing of it, but Zhang Daozhen’s name made things interesting.

Longmen Mountain had passed down its lineage for nearly a thousand years, now in its seventeenth generation. The hierarchy of names was strict. Because Zhang Daoling, the founder, used the “Dao” character, it marked the start of each cycle of twelve generations in the sect’s naming tradition.

Zhang Daozhen belonged to the “Dao” generation and was a thirteenth-generation disciple of Dan Ding Sect—this made sense.

But as far as Zhong Ming knew, Dan Ding Sect hadn’t had any “Dao”-generation disciples active in the world for decades. Those of the “Dao” generation were revered as ancestors in the sect. It was rumored that only three “Dao”-generation disciples remained from Longmen Mountain.

One was the current leader of Dan Ding Sect, a centenarian whose fame resounded but whose actual authority had long since passed to his chief disciple.

Another was an old master of the sect, living in seclusion for over a century, devoted to the Dao and shunning worldly affairs.

The last had served as the former Chen dynasty’s national advisor, retreating into the imperial palace to refine medicines for the royal family. After the Chen dynasty’s fall, his whereabouts became unknown.

A century ago, these three were prominent figures, but time and history had buried their renown. Few remembered them now.

All that remained in common knowledge was that Longmen Mountain’s current leader was named Zhang Daozhong.

Fortunately, Zhong Ming had heard many tales from Mr. Guo, whose stories spanned the world. Hence, Zhong Ming knew such details.

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Zhong Ming pondered for a moment, his disdain lessening. This old Daoist, likely over a century old, had no reason to deceive him. He saluted and said, “I am unfamiliar with your esteemed name, Master Zhang. Forgive me for not receiving you properly.”

Sensing Zhong Ming’s sincerity, Zhang Daozhen laughed, waving his hand. “I hadn’t thought my reputation was so great that anyone still remembers me.”

Zhong Ming seized the opportunity to ask, “I’ve heard that Dan Ding Sect has three ‘Dao’-generation grandmasters alive—may I ask, are you the leader, the recluse, or the alchemist?”

At this, the old Daoist’s laughter halted abruptly. He smiled with a touch of embarrassment. “Zhong Ming, those three are my senior brothers. I am known for wandering and traveling; you must have mistaken me for someone else.”

So it was all a misunderstanding. Zhong Ming had mistaken him for someone else.

He hadn’t expected there to be a fourth “Dao”-generation disciple in the world. Zhong Ming felt awkward; his earlier reverence now left both men in an uncomfortable silence.

Zhang Daozhen coughed and waved his hand. “Disciple, fetch me some water. Your master is thirsty.”

Young Zhang Nianchen nodded, fumbling about for the kettle and pouring water for his master.

Zhong Ming glanced at Zhang Nianchen, reflecting. By tradition, the generation after “Dao” should be “Xuan.” Zhang Nianchen, being Zhang Daozhen’s pupil, should bear the “Xuan” character, yet neither name followed the lineage. These two were peculiar.

Could it be that wandering Daoists had borrowed Longmen Mountain’s Dan Ding Sect name to deceive others?

The thought flickered briefly in Zhong Ming’s mind. Yet Zhang Daozhen’s skills were genuine—the medicine he gave had proved his competence. He was unlikely to be a fraud.

As for what secrets these Daoists from Longmen Mountain kept, Zhong Ming could only guess.

When Zhang Nianchen finally found hot water, took a teapot from a rattan chest, brewed tea, and poured for the pair, he whispered, “Please enjoy the tea, Zhong Ming.”

Zhong Ming returned to himself, raised an eyebrow, and since he couldn’t guess the truth, decided not to try. He picked up the cup, blew gently, and inhaled the fragrance. At once, he felt invigorated. “Such a refreshing scent! The tea carries the aroma of morning dew—this is excellent tea!”

Zhang Daozhen cupped his hands around his own cup, smiling. “Your eye for tea is keen. This is true Morning Dew Dragonwell—picked personally by my pupil at dawn, before the sun had risen, then processed with the dew still fresh. Only then does it yield this fragrance. The so-called Morning Dew Dragonwell served in city teahouses is mostly fake.”

Zhong Ming understood; Zhang Daozhen was hinting that the city’s teahouses used imitations.

Zhong Ming smiled, lowered his head, and drank, though his mind remained active. After a cup, he said, “Master Zhang, after this tea, I hope you’ll share your purpose for coming.”

Zhang Daozhen set down his cup and replied, “I came to perform rites for your village’s festival, but unexpectedly found you here. I calculated your whereabouts, and earlier, I divined your fate. Today, you face great danger, so I sent my pupil to the Immortal Stone to save you.”

Indeed, at the Immortal Stone, young Zhang Nianchen had rescued Zhong Ming.

Zhong Ming had been blinded by the “Immortal” inscription. Had Zhang Nianchen not called out, he would have knelt like any ordinary person. He sensed that kneeling would have led to disaster.

The village’s festival had been scheduled days before; Zhang Daozhen was invited first, and Zhong Ming’s meeting with him at the teahouse came later—it couldn’t have been a deliberate plot by Zhang Daozhen.

Understanding this, Zhong Ming saluted and asked, “Master Zhang, what is so peculiar about the Immortal Stone?”

Zhang Daozhen stroked his tangled beard and said, “The Immortal Stone is a boundary marker of Jade Capital. Wherever the stone stands, it marks Jade Capital’s domain.

At first, there was only one stone, erected beneath Jade Capital’s floating palace, meant to warn mortals not to approach. People of New Tang’s far north all know the saying: ‘Before the Immortal Stone, mortals must not step.’

Later, Jade Capital helped New Tang conquer vast lands, expanding its sphere of influence. But after the great change in heaven and earth, Jade Capital was no longer the sole power in the realm.”

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“Zhong Ming, do you know that beyond the palaces of Western Chen, there lies a range of snowy mountains, within which dwell great Daoist masters called Kunlun?

And over the Eastern Sea of Southern Han, there exists a palace floating above the vast ocean, known as Penglai?”

Zhong Ming had heard of these and nodded. “I’ve heard that when the sky cracked for more than a month, eighteen beams of light descended, and it’s said there are eighteen such immortal palaces.”

Zhang Daozhen was pleased and nodded. “You are correct. As far as I know, wherever the beams of light fell, an immortal palace was established. But these eighteen palaces are not all within your knowledge.”

“What do you mean?” Zhong Ming pressed. The days when the sky split and the palaces descended coincided with his arrival from Earth. Living on the frontier, he’d struggled to find any way to inquire about these events. Now, with an expert before him, he had to ask.

Perhaps understanding the palaces would reveal clues as to why Zhong Ming had come to this world.

Zhang Daozhen answered with a question, “Zhong Ming, do you know how vast our Tianxuan Nine Provinces truly are?”

This touched upon Zhong Ming’s ignorance. Not only did he not know the size, he wasn’t even sure what Tianxuan Nine Provinces meant. He shook his head, “Please enlighten me, Master Zhang.”

“So you don’t even know that? Very well, let me tell you about Tianxuan Nine Provinces.”

Zhang Daozhen, his mouth dry, took another sip of tea and began to explain, “The reason our land is called the Nine Provinces is because at the dawn of the world, the earth split into nine, hence the historical name.

Later, after great upheavals, four provinces rose, five sank, the seas engulfed five, leaving only four. Yet we continue to use the ancient names, calling it Tianxuan Nine Provinces.

The land beneath your feet—be it New Tang, Southern Han, or Western Chen—is all part of one continent, called Xuanbei Zong Province.

Beyond the snowy mountains behind Western Chen, heading west, you reach the Western Sea—beyond that, you find Xiluo Chen Province. Cross the southern islands of the South Sea, and further south lies Linzhou of the South Sea. From New Tang’s Eastern Sea, journey east to reach Lindong He Province. These four continents together make up Tianxuan Nine Provinces.”

The old Daoist’s words were astonishing. Zhong Ming had lived here for over three years, thinking that what he saw and heard was all there was to the world. He hadn’t imagined three more continents existed beyond his comprehension.

Upon reflection, it made sense—Earth had seven continents; this world’s four were hardly surprising.

Understanding this, Zhong Ming asked, “Master Zhang, what is the connection between Tianxuan Nine Provinces and what you described?”

Zhang Daozhen smiled, sipping tea. “Don’t be impatient, Zhong Ming. Did you know that our Xuanbei Zong Province had nine beams of light descend? People know of Jade Capital, Kunlun, Penglai, the roaming Dragon Mountains, and Sword Cliff, but few realize that besides these four, five more palaces remain hidden.

Jade Capital is not the only power. The Immortal Stone was originally meant to keep immortals away, but now Jade Capital uses it to mark its territory. Throughout New Tang, there are two hundred and thirty-seven Immortal Stones like the one you saw.

Wherever an Immortal Stone stands is forbidden ground for Jade Capital! Should another palace’s immortals trespass, their heads will be severed by the immortal sword, their souls consumed by immortal magic!”

Zhong Ming drew a sharp breath. “Such domineering methods…”

Zhang Daozhen snorted, laughing. “Dominating, you say? The pursuit of immortality and longevity is nothing but treading over countless bones to grasp a distant, solitary bridge in the sky!”