Chapter 6: The Golden Secret of the Demonic Sect’s Mountains

By the frigid pool behind the Demonic Sect’s mountain, Shui Jingxuan controlled the water, coaxing it into an arm-thick water dragon. The dragon’s gaping maw clutched a half-pound green fish as it lunged onto the bank.

Upon touching the grassy shore, the water dragon dissipated, becoming nothing more than a puddle that soaked into the mud. Yet, the green fish, once captured by the aqueous beast, continued to flail energetically on the grass.

Shui Jingxuan strode over, hoisted the fish high, and smashed it against a rock, killing it instantly. He then cleaned it with a dagger, built a fire, and began to roast his meal.

Though he couldn’t conjure large water spheres from thin air, Shui Jingxuan’s control over existing water remained as masterful as it had been in his previous life. The only caveat was the brevity of its duration, lasting mere seconds to several minutes at most.

Thanks to the sheer convenience of this ability, the fish in the frigid pool had become Shui Jingxuan’s primary sustenance in recent days.

Alas, the provisions within the Demonic Sect were truly unpalatable. To secure a decent meal, one first had to prevail in a skirmish against a fellow disciple.

Victory might yield half a bowl of coarse rice with a small dish of pickled vegetables; defeat, however, meant only a bowl of thin, flavorless porridge.

Those who wished to avoid conflict were left with merely half a dry, stone-hard steamed bun to fill their stomachs.

The pickled vegetables, laden with chilies, garlic, and Sichuan peppercorns, possessed an overwhelmingly potent flavor. The first time Shui Jingxuan sampled them, he was so assaulted by the spice that tears streamed from his eyes.

To alleviate the burning sensation, he could only devour large mouthfuls of dry rice.

Only after finishing did a realization dawn on him: there was a clear reason why the pickled vegetables were so intensely seasoned—it was to make the throat-choking coarse rice seem less utterly dreadful.

Life was truly arduous for the heterodox faction!

Rather than enduring strenuous fights for such coarse fare, Shui Jingxuan preferred to simply take half a dry, hard bun to appease his hunger.

He would then head to the frigid pool to catch fish for a supplementary meal, simultaneously cultivating his abilities and internal energy, thus killing two birds with one stone.

After a month of dedicated cultivation, Shui Jingxuan discovered that his abilities and internal energy flowed along the same pathways. Cultivating one also enhanced the other; they complemented and bolstered each other.

Within a mere few days, both had advanced considerably—a truly unexpected boon. He had initially believed that without a crystal core, cultivating his abilities would be an insurmountable task. Now, however, it seemed far easier.

If he maintained his diligence, there was significant hope that he could achieve fifty percent of his previous life’s strength by adulthood, which would be more than sufficient to rank among the world’s top masters and live a life of unburdened freedom.

This transmigration world, though not teeming with transcendent ability users like the apocalypse, still boasted a multitude of formidable experts.

Beyond the distant figures, the current Sect Master of the Demonic Sect, Ji Wushuang, was an undisputed top-tier master.

He could kill with a casual breath, single-handedly challenging the entire Wudang Sect, decimating nine-tenths of its disciples, and even slaying its Sect Leader, Immortal Ziyang.

Had it not been for his profound devotion to Wolf Girl, which clouded his judgment, he would never have perished by Zhuo Yihang’s sword.

With Ji Wushuang serving as his benchmark, Shui Jingxuan cultivated even more assiduously, daring not to slacken in the slightest.

In his estimation, if the experts of this world were to be ranked, Ji Wushuang would undoubtedly claim the top spot.

It was precisely Ji Wushuang’s intimidating presence that allowed the heterodox faction to secure a foothold amidst the encirclement campaigns of the Eight Great Sects and the Manchu Tatars, preventing their complete annihilation.

If Shui Jingxuan diligently continued his training, he might reach Ji Wushuang’s level of power in ten years, allowing him to traverse the martial world unhindered.

With a faint smile, Shui Jingxuan elegantly devoured the roasted fish, fantasizing about his future, until only a bare skeletal frame remained. Having experienced the apocalypse, he deeply understood the preciousness of food and refused to waste even a morsel.

Of course, if conditions permitted, he still yearned for even better meals.

Perhaps tomorrow, he could try using ice needles to hunt two wild rabbits to improve his diet. After a month of fish, he had grown somewhat tired of it.

Currently, he could instantly unleash ten ice needles simultaneously, striking with remarkable precision. Hunting agile and cunning wild rabbits would, therefore, be effortlessly accomplished.

As he privately contemplated his plans for the next day, a rustling in the bushes suddenly reached his ears. Shui Jingxuan’s jade-white earlobe twitched slightly.

Discarding the fish bones, he executed a lithe leap, silently plunging into the depths of the frigid pool. He vanished among the emerald waterweeds, peering up towards the bank.

Not long after he submerged himself, two middle-aged men, armed with swords, indeed emerged from the dense bushes. Both possessed stable stances, full foreheads, keen eyes, and bulging temples, clearly indicating they were masters of internal martial arts.

Judging by their appearances and the fine fabric of their attire, they were evidently not members of the heterodox faction but rather Han Chinese who had clandestinely infiltrated the sect’s grounds.

Fortunately, Shui Jingxuan’s body had been transformed by his abilities, making his five senses acutely sharp, no less so than a first-rate master. Otherwise, a direct confrontation with these two men might very well have ended his life today.

The two men moved with a certain urgency, their expressions laced with extreme vigilance. Upon spotting the still-glowing embers and the thoroughly picked fish bones, they paused and immediately began to search their surroundings.

It never occurred to them that someone might be hidden at the bottom of the pool, able to remain submerged for so long without surfacing to breathe.

After a lengthy inspection, they found nothing suspicious. Seeing the devoured fish bones, they surmised the person had long since departed.

Their murderous aura faded, and their expressions eased slightly.

“Senior Brother Baiyun, let us quickly return and report to the Sect Leader. These demonic deviants actually occupy such a treasure trove yet remain oblivious to it—how foolish!

All the better for us; once we gather the Eight Great Sects, we can conquer this place sooner.” The man in short blue attire spoke in a low voice, his words laced with animosity.

“Yes, let’s go,” the middle-aged man in a white robe, sporting a handlebar mustache above his upper lip, responded softly. His footsteps, however, shifted subtly, allowing the man in blue to naturally take the lead.

The man in blue was solely focused on continuing their journey, unsuspecting that the man behind him would suddenly draw his sword and pierce him through. A crimson stain bloomed at the corner of the blue-clad man’s lips as he slowly turned his head, his eyes bulging in utter disbelief.

“Senior Brother Baiyun, why?” the blue-clad man asked, unwilling, as the white-robed man withdrew his sword. Blood instantly gushed from the wound, and the blue-clad man collapsed stiffly, breathing his last.

Sidestepping to avoid the splattering blood, the white-robed man grinned sinisterly.

“You called these demonic deviants foolish, yet you are even more so! Such immense wealth, and you wished to inform the Sect Leader and share it with the other seven great sects? How utterly shortsighted! It’s better that you’re dead!”

Hearing this, the man’s eyes widened further, and a low growl, like that of a trapped beast, emanated from his throat. The sound gradually ceased, leaving him to die with unseeing, aggrieved eyes.

Seeing that he had drawn his last breath, the white-robed man sneered. He used the victim’s tunic to wipe the blood from his sword, then kicked the corpse into a nearby thicket, concealing it with dense vines.

Wolves roamed this valley, and a body left for two or three days would soon be picked clean, sparing him the effort of destroying evidence.

Before departing, he picked up the longsword the man had dropped in the grass and casually tossed it into the frigid pool. Then, the white-robed man hastened away.

After the other party had vanished into the distance, Shui Jingxuan retrieved the sword that had landed near his feet and slowly surfaced.

Using his ability to dry the water from his clothes and hair, he carefully examined the longsword in his hand. Noticing the elegantly flowing characters ‘Wudang’ inscribed at the top of the scabbard, he narrowed his eyes, lost in thought.

Carefully dissecting the brief exchange between the two men, Shui Jingxuan quickly grasped the crux of the matter. First, these two were Wudang scouts. Second, they had discovered a secret regarding the Demonic Sect, one related to this land and great wealth.

Recalling the bitter, metallic tang in the pool water and the three massive mountains entirely composed of green rock, a startling idea flashed through Shui Jingxuan’s mind.

His grip on the sword tightened. Catching sight of a corner of green rock protruding from beneath the bushes, his gaze sharpened. He drew the sword and swung it forcefully at the rock.

With a crisp ‘clink,’ the sword struck the rock’s surface, sparking a few embers. The rock’s fracture gleamed with specks of golden light under the sun.

Shui Jingxuan leaned closer, observing the fracture intently for a long moment. Finally, he confirmed that this colossal green rock was indeed an auriferous ore deposit. Judging by the bright golden-orange color within the rock, it was a highly concentrated one.

Three barren, uncultivable stone mountains had, in an instant, transformed into three mountains of gold. Shui Jingxuan’s lips curved into a faint smile, and he let out a low chuckle.

No wonder that white-robed man had murdered his fellow disciple; he had been consumed by greed, harboring the delusional ambition of monopolizing this fortune.

Senior Brother Baiyun—that name, too, was incredibly familiar to him. Was it not the ambitious Immortal Baiyun, the very individual within the Wudang Sect who vehemently advocated for the eradication of the heterodox faction?

While watching the movie, he had merely perceived Baiyun as ruthless, willing to frame even the young Zhuo Yihang for the Sect Leader position and advocating for the utter annihilation of the vulnerable heterodox faction.

Now, however, he realized that movies truly differed from reality—they were too superficial, too fantastical. How could audiences have imagined the mystical truth behind it all?

Shui Jingxuan ceased his laughter and used vines to conceal the rock’s fracture. With a raised eyebrow, he murmured, “I thought this was a desolate, impoverished land, but it turns out to be three mountains of gold.

In that case, I’ll claim this Demonic Sect for myself!”

Baiyun undoubtedly intended to monopolize this wealth, and therefore, upon returning to Wudang, he would reveal nothing. However, he lacked the power to seize this fortune alone.

Thus, his immediate priority would be to usurp the Wudang Sect Leader position.

Only with the authority to command Wudang and the Eight Great Sects would he launch a full-scale assault on the Demonic Sect to seize its territory. Such an elaborate scheme would take no less than seven or eight years to accomplish.

Yet, he lacked the gift of foresight, unaware that in seven or eight years, Wudang would be annihilated by Ji Wushuang and Wolf Girl, and he himself would be slaughtered. All his elaborate plans would ultimately be futile.

Shui Jingxuan sat cross-legged on the ground, a sardonic smile playing on his lips. His fingertips tapped rhythmically against the rock beneath him, his brows furrowed in solemn contemplation as he thought intently.

With Ji Wushuang and Wolf Girl as two formidable weapons, Baiyun’s plans were destined to fail, rendering Wudang a negligible threat. To acquire the golden mountains, he must first obtain the Demonic Sect. How to do so?

The most time and effort-efficient method, naturally, was direct inheritance. Ji Wushuang only had a few years left to live, and Wolf Girl was bound to rebel and depart.

During these years, if he demonstrated his talent, firmly establishing himself within the Demonic Sect, and ascended to a certain high position, he would have at least a seventy percent chance of seizing control amidst the chaos.

Furthermore, if his memory served him correctly, after Wolf Girl’s rebellion, she would establish another Demonic Palace, dedicating herself to annihilating the Eight Great Sects and engaging them in a decade-long conflict.

Over these ten years, she would draw the vast majority of the Eight Great Sects’ animosity, effectively granting the Demonic Sect an opportunity to recuperate.

With his past life’s experience in building a base, forging a powerful Demonic Sect, untouchable by anyone, within ten years would be no challenge for Shui Jingxuan.

Moreover, with the golden mountains in hand, he would be like a tiger granted wings.

“If God closes a door, he surely leaves a window open. These words truly hold true! In my last life, I lost my base; in this life, heaven has delivered something even better! In that case, I shall gladly accept it!”

Having thoroughly considered every angle, Shui Jingxuan subtly curved his lips. His refined face, now much fuller, shone brilliantly, radiating splendor.