The Immortal Daoyuan was actually the Immortal Guangyuan instead of Guangyuan Zhenren, the peak master of Shiyue, in two places the day before. Jing Jiu was about to enter the main plot of this chapter. He was a bit nervous, but his nervousness turned into anticipation when he thought that the Spring Festival was coming and he would have a long holiday.
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Another person arrived outside the southern mountain gate.
Ming Guoxing was startled. He stood up hastily and bowed to Jing Jiu.
Jing Jiu nodded and walked over, turning into a patch of white cloth at the far end of the mountain path.
He didn't ride the sword. It was not because of the courtesy, nor was it because it would be troublesome to activate the Great Formation of Aoyama.
He had the command board with him, so he didn't need to worry about these things.
Compared to riding the sword, he was more used to walking for the distance of one hundred miles.
He could enjoy the sceneries and meditate while walking, and he could sort out those complicated matters that were hard to figure out and calculate in his mind.
It didn't take long before he arrived at the South Pine Pavilion.
Dozens of small courtyards were hidden among the green pine trees. Those young external disciples were either practicing boxing under the pine trees or meditating by the stream.
Jing Jiu and Liu Shisui had studied here thirty years ago. He had gradually forgotten many details, like the boring youth surnamed Xue; he wondered which elder's grandnephew was. On the contrary, the memory of eight hundred years ago was more vivid. He could still remember that when he was brought away from the royal palace of Zhaoge City by the Grandmaster, his big brother stood in the square in front of the grand hall and watched him gradually turning into a black speck.
It was true that he was brought back to Aoyama by the Grandmaster, the Immortal Daoyuan; it was because he was a true genius in Cultivation.
After he came to Aoyama, he hadn't seen the Grandmaster a few times before he was assassinated by Nan Qü.
In the following one hundred years, his Master stayed behind closed doors in an attempt to break through the Hidden World State and go to the Foggy Island to kill Nan Qü. But he was too anxious and died as a result.
The situation had changed. His Big Brother and Jing Jiu became orphans without the care of the elders, living a miserable life on the peak of Shangde Peak.
His Big Brother accepted disciples without hesitation. He first recruited two talented disciples, Yuan Qijing and Liu Ci, and then the Dark Phoenix and the Night Howler.
At that time, he did nothing but cultivate in silence, hoping to catch up to his senior brother as soon as possible and help him.
In the end, he really caught up with his senior brother and stood beside him. Yuan Qijing and Liu Ci also improved their realms at an unimaginable speed. Shangde Peak became stronger. Under the leadership of their senior brother, they challenged the other peaks. The whole of Aoyama was in chaos. Blood flowed like a river. The orthodoxy of Aoyama was restored.
While thinking about these things, Jing Jiu had already walked past the South Pine Pavilion and arrived at the small building.
In the small building, there were portraits of the ancestors and important figures of Aoyama.
The last two portraits were of Taiping Zhenren and Zhenren Jingyang.
Jing Jiu looked at the two portraits and thought about something.
He had never been a Sect Leader, but of course he had the right to put it here.
What did the letter that Senior Martial Brother sent back represent?
Did it mean that Taiping Zhenren had returned to Aoyama?
After walking past the small building, Jing Jiu arrived at the center of the nine peaks of Aoyama. The Sword Washing Stream looked like a golden silk swaying slowly under the sunlight.
The young disciples by the stream were shocked to see Jing Jiu. "Greetings, Senior Master!" they greeted him as they separated hastily and bowed to him.
"Greetings, Young Senior Master!" some courageous young disciples yelled.
Jing Jiu didn't pay any attention to these young people, nor did he nod to them. He kept walking toward the deep end of the Sword Washing Stream.
The difference in seniority was too great, so it was not a problem of rudeness. In his eyes, these children were no different from the little monkeys on the cliffs by the stream.
The young disciples by the stream didn't feel relieved until the white cloth disappeared on the cliff wall at the end of the Sword Washing Stream, straightening their backs.
They pressed their hands on their chests, their faces full of surprise and delight, thinking that they were lucky enough to meet the legendary Young Senior Master.
Walking forward a few miles, the clouds grew thicker, and hundreds of stone pillars shot up into the sky, looking like countless swords.
This was the place where the sword trials were held in Aoyama. Coming here meant that Tianguang Peak was right in front of them.
Jing Jiu still didn't ride his sword. Instead, he walked toward the peak along the mountain path.
Flying swords passed by from time to time.
Seeing the fluttering white cloth on the mountain path, the disciples of Tianguang Peak stopped immediately. They cupped their fists and bowed to him, watching him go up.
It didn't take long for Jing Jiu to reach the peak of Tianguang Peak.
He hadn't been here for many years, but the formations and settings on the peak hadn't changed much.
He walked to the front of the stone tablet. He didn't even look at the sword sheath on the tablet. He reached out and patted the Round Turtle's back lightly.
The Round Turtle opened his eyes and glanced at him, wondering if he had already made up his mind.
Liu Ci was sitting on the edge of the cliff. He was very tall, even though he was sitting. His feet seemed to reach into the sea of clouds.
Jing Jiu walked to his side and sat down, gazing at the sea of clouds in front of the cliff.
The gentle breeze blew over, and the weather was fine. The peaks poked out of the sea of clouds, looking like fairy spirits.
The snow-capped Shanghai Peak could be seen clearly. Even the Sword Peak, enshrouded in clouds and fog all year round, could be vaguely seen. The sword lights of Liangwang Peak flashed incessantly.
Shiyue Peak and Xilai Peak seemed to be connected together. Bihu Peak looked like a short pine tree in a bonsai.
The farthest Shenmo Peak was as lonely as a sword.
The people on Qingrong Peak looked at it blankly.
There seemed to be an invisible barrier between heaven and earth in front of them. There were countless beautiful nameless peaks on the other side, which were the rumored hermit peaks.
If one looked further, one could even see the Muddy River.
"Aoyama is beautiful," said Jing Jiu.
Liu Ci said, "I think Aoyama is very charming. I think Aoyama is the same when she sees Senior Master."
"Hmm," said Jing Jiu.
Liu Ci said, "This must be your first time here."
Jing Jiu said, "Why do I come here if I have nothing to do?"
Liu Ci said, "Why did Senior Master come here today? And you walked all the way here. "
Jing Jiu said, "I want to confirm some facts."
From the South Pine Pavilion to the Sword Washing Stream, to the Sword Forest, and then to the top of Tianguang Peak, he had been searching for the memories of the past, and also inspecting his own territory.
After a moment of silence, Liu Ci asked, "What did Senior Master confirm?"
"Aoyama is my Aoyama."
Jing Jiu said while looking at a spot outside the ocean of clouds, "So I agreed to his request."
Liu Ci felt a little emotional. He wondered how the Cultivation World would react if they knew about this.
The history of Chaotian in the last six hundred years was written by the Immortal Taiping Zhenren and the Immortal Jingyang.
The first time they joined hands, they suppressed the swordsmen of the peaks and continued the tradition of Aoyama.
The second time they joined hands, they destroyed the headquarters of the Mysterious Dark Sect and forced a figure like the Great Grandmaster of the Mysterious Dark Sect to the underground.
The Aoyama Sect became the most powerful force in the Cultivation circle, and nobody dared challenge them.
Six hundred years later, they were not as powerful as they had been, but they still didn't need to join hands. They could inflict so many losses on the Zhongzhou School simply by relying on their Dao Hearts.
If they joined hands this time, what kind of story would they leave behind in the history of Chaotian?
Liu Ci said, "He also wrote me a letter."
Jing Jiu shot him a glance, saying nothing.
"That letter was delivered to the South Pine Pavilion. Shanghai Peak would know it even if I didn't tell them."
Liu Ci continued, "Maybe he did it in passing, but it's still a good way to provoke them."
No sooner had he said this than a gust of wind and snow fell down.
The ocean of clouds rippled as the Three-Foot Sword broke through the clouds and arrived in front of the cliff of Tianguang Peak. The body of the sword was a bit dim, covered with a thin layer of frost.
"It's hard to tell if it's true or not. Maybe he did it on purpose to cover for you."
Yuan Qijing's deep voice came out from the Three-Foot Sword.
Liu Ci knew that Yuan Qijing had been informed by Jing Jiu. He arched his eyebrows slightly, saying nothing.
It was quiet on the top of Tianguang Peak.
The atmosphere was a bit depressing.
Back when Taiping Zhenren escaped from the Sword Jail, it meant that there must be a ghost in Aoyama.
It must be a powerful ghost who could do it.
Over the last thirty years, Jing Jiu, Liu Ci, and Yuan Qijing had seldom met each other, and they had never talked about this matter; but they all had their own thoughts.
Were they going to talk about it today?
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