5: The Radiant Spirit Is Received Into the Ancestral Hall

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At the break of dawn, before the sky had lightened, a chill lingered in the mountains. Yi Fan sat upright upon a boulder atop the peak, fingers weaving through incantations, eyes closed in meditation, utterly motionless.

Soon, a shaft of light cleaved through the clouds, banishing the darkness. In an instant, every trace of gloom seemed swept from the heavens and earth, stirring a heroic surge within the heart.

At that very moment, Yi Fan took a deep breath, shifted his mudra, exhaled sharply, and opened his eyes.

“At last, I’ve recovered. That was close—far too close. I nearly lost my life.”

After slaying the serpent demon in Guobei County, he too had suffered grave injuries. Tainted by demonic energy, he had hurried back to the mountain, where day after day he contemplated the ‘Minor Demon-Banishing Talisman’. He spared neither talisman paper nor effort, drawing freely and unafraid of failure, wasting untold sheets in his relentless attempts.

Fortunately, his efforts were not in vain. After two months, he had finally expelled the last trace of demonic energy from his body.

Recalling that night, the battle with the serpent demon still left him unsettled, even now. If the serpent had pressed its advantage, he would certainly have perished.

But arrogance proved the demon’s downfall. It failed to kill him outright, and all its power was for naught, reduced to ashes in a blink.

The might of the ‘Minor Demon-Banishing Talisman’ had astonished him as well—before its power, the serpent demon could not resist, slain on the spot. Its true form was revealed, and its soul scattered to the four winds.

Yet the risk had not been in vain. Yi Fan opened a box beside him: within lay a segment of vibrant green serpent’s tail, faintly glowing with an eerie luster.

After being suppressed and destroyed by the talisman, the serpent’s body had quickly dissipated like melting snow, leaving only this shrunken tail—the essence of its cultivation, a rare and precious treasure.

Of course, what Yi Fan truly valued was the system’s prompt: it could be refined and converted into energy.

“System, refine it.”

It was as if a piercing wail echoed in his mind. The serpent tail quivered violently, then dissolved into the wind before it could even fall. Yi Fan opened the system interface.

“Taoist Immortal System”

“Host: Yi Fan”

“Divine Power: Minor Demon-Banishing Talisman (Level 1)”

“Realm: Pure Heart Sutra (Uninitiated) (Upgrade?)”

“Refinement: 36”

“System Message: Oh dear, another minor demon? Host, you must try harder.”

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Yi Fan ignored the overly animated system, his heart brimming with joy. As expected, he could upgrade—though not the talisman’s power, his cultivation was now ripe for advancement.

The ‘Minor Demon-Banishing Talisman’ was potent, but it could only be created when his essence, energy, and spirit were at their peak. Each successful talisman would leave him exhausted for days—a slow and inefficient process.

But with greater cultivation, the situation would be transformed.

Without hesitation, he selected “Upgrade Pure Heart Sutra”. Instantly, a tremor coursed through his body, as if a door had swung open within. Countless acupoints burst forth, and a surge of pure wind from the heavens and earth rushed into him—so intense it felt as if he might be scattered to the four corners in the next moment.

Gritting his teeth, Yi Fan knew this was no time to falter. Failure now would bring unthinkable consequences.

After a while, he felt a tremendous swelling at the crown of his head, immense energy battering him again and again—each wave mightier than the last—so powerful that his very soul seemed to shudder, nearly losing himself.

A sharp crack sounded—who knew how much time had passed—at last a fissure split the barrier at his crown, then the torrent of energy shattered it entirely, sweeping him away in its flood.

Under the blazing sun, a gust of wind swept over the mountains, setting countless trees swaying. Startled birds soared high, a rabbit in a panic dashed headlong into a rock and fell unconscious.

Yi Fan was jolted awake, his senses now preternaturally sharp. In the breeze, he could smell the fragrance of flowers, hear wild boars rooting in the earth miles away—as if the world had shed a veil before his eyes.

Looking farther, he glimpsed Lanruo Temple a few miles distant, faint golden light radiating from within. The soft intonation of Buddhist scripture drifted to him, solemn and awe-inspiring.

Suddenly, a deep bell tolled, the golden light blazing, the chanting swelling—competing with the brilliance of the rising sun. The radiance stung Yi Fan’s eyes, bringing tears. He dared not look again.

No wonder this was one of the great temples of Jiangsu and Zhejiang—clearly a high monk resided within.

Steadying his mind, Yi Fan opened the system interface.

…

“Divine Power: Minor Demon-Banishing Talisman (Level 1)”

“Realm: Pure Heart Sutra (Level 1) (First Layer of Luminous Aperture)”

“Refinement: 6”

Luminous Aperture? The secret texts at the temple described several cultivation realms; Luminous Aperture was the first great stage, marking formal entry into the path, the threshold to true cultivation.

A spark of divine light entering the crown, transcending the mundane to become an immortal.

At this stage, one could perceive the major acupoints of the body, draw in spiritual energy, generate magical power, and learn divine arts. Henceforth, subduing demons and evil spirits would no longer be beyond reach, and one could walk the world with confidence. In the temple’s texts, this was also called “being recorded,” and those who achieved it were addressed as Taoist priests.

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Since the founding of the temple, each generation had fallen short of the last. It was said that the ancestral master had been supremely powerful, but since his passing, no successor had achieved true attainment, let alone entered the threshold of cultivation.

The old priest had pursued this realm his entire life, yet it was Yi Fan who accomplished it.

If he were to face the serpent demon now, he would have the strength to contend, rather than risking life and limb, sustaining grievous injuries, and barely surviving.

A while later, Yi Fan opened his eyes, feeling elated. Looking down, he saw the rabbit still fainted nearby and burst into laughter.

“Truly, good fortune brings a light heart—even the rabbit knows I’m hungry.”

…

The next morning, before dawn, someone knocked at the door. Yi Fan finished his exercises and opened it to find seven or eight people. He recognized the two at the front: one with bulging fish-like eyes, the other the scholar whom the serpent demon had nearly drained dry.

“Benefactor, thank you for your righteous aid in slaying the serpent demon and saving my life,” the scholar said, bowing deeply and with genuine gratitude, which caught Yi Fan off guard. He quickly helped him up. “No need to be so formal. You must be tired from your journey up the mountain—please, come in and rest awhile.”

Once seated, they sent their servants to wait outside. The scholar began expressing his thanks anew, only to be interrupted by the impatient, fish-eyed man.

“Oh, cousin, have some water and take a break—enough with the long-winded speeches.” Turning to Yi Fan, he said, “Old Yi, I didn’t expect you had such skills. Tell me, what did the serpent demon look like? What happened that night?”

Yi Fan rolled his eyes, recognizing the man’s excitement for what it was, and ignored him.

The scholar coughed, casting a reproachful glance at his cousin before apologizing, “I’ve been recovering at home these past two months and was unable to come sooner. I am truly sorry, benefactor. Today, I have brought some small gifts in thanks.”

He called for the servants to bring in a chest, which they placed inside without opening and then withdrew.

“Knowing you are a Taoist cultivator, we have prepared some talisman paper and cinnabar, as well as a hundred-year-old ginseng root and one hundred taels of silver.”

“You are too kind. Since you insist, I will not refuse,” Yi Fan replied.

This chest was worth at least two hundred taels of silver, and the century-old ginseng was especially rare—money alone could hardly buy it.

He knew the Chen family was a prominent scholarly clan in Guobei County, owning a thousand acres of good land and numerous businesses. They lacked for nothing. Moreover, Yi Fan had risked his life to slay the serpent demon, thereby saving a promising scholar of the Chen family—this reward was well deserved.