Big Data Cultivation-Chapter 600 - Regardless of A Mountains Height

Chapter 600: Chapter 600: Regardless of A Mountain’s Height (First Update to Celebrate the Alliance Leader Yóu Nóngsuō)

Chapter 600: Chapter 600: Regardless of A Mountain’s Height (First Update to Celebrate the Alliance Leader Yóu Nóngsuō)

Feng Jun couldn’t be bothered to explain to the guarding Taoist priests and with a press on the windowsill, he vaulted out and silently vanished into the rainy night.

Less than a minute later, he returned and spoke gravely, “The person’s scent is gone… tsk, the rain is a bit too heavy.”

At the window, although there was only about ten centimeters of eaves, it was enough to ensure that some scents could linger for a short while.

But in the rainy ground, all scents would be quickly washed away by the rainwater.

The Taoist guards didn’t want to believe him, but seeing his swift movements when he left and his equally noiseless, light return, the most crucial point was—there was not a single drop of water on him.

Therefore, they had no choice but to believe, and one of them asked softly, “Can you describe the scent of this person?”

“I can’t describe it,” Feng Jun shook his head. Scents were unique to each person, and the subtle differences were truly indescribable in words.

He could only try to explain, “This person’s scent is heavy, with the kind of staleness peculiar to the elderly… For example, young people might not have bad breath after waking up without brushing their teeth, but the elderly definitely will, and it’s particularly pungent.”

The scent of the elderly really is different from that of the young. Everyone talks about high-quality Cuban cigars being made from the rolling on a young girl’s thighs, no one says cigars rolled on an old man’s thighs draw well.

Apart from psychological factors, the body odors of young and old people are inherently different.

As for his ability to discern the person was a layperson, it was quite simple, “Everything he passed by had no trace of incense… If it were a cultivator from the Buddhist sect or the Daoist sects, there would have been at least a hint of it, no matter how faint.”

Monks and Taoist priests burn incense daily, and even after bathing and changing clothes, the scent of incense on them can’t be hidden—that said, this scent would be very subtle and could be masked by the smell of shampoo or shower gel. Only a rare few could detect it.

But Feng Jun couldn’t be fooled by this scent.

The Taoist priest on night watch listened in bemusement, but it didn’t stop him from looking at the other with admiration—Brother, what you said makes so much sense, I am speechless.

Feng Jun, furrowing his brows in thought, pointed at Gazi, Gao Qiang, and Di Aixin, “For the second half of the night, you three share a room… Gazi, no sleeping alone in a standard room anymore.”

This arrangement seemed odd, but the three men didn’t care. It was just about making do for one night—where couldn’t they sleep?

The rain stopped at dawn, and after they woke up, they went to the cafeteria for breakfast.

The breakfast at Maoshan was quite generous. Although vegetarian, there were fried dumplings, boiled eggs, white rice porridge, shredded potatoes, pickles, steamed sponge cake, and deep-fried dough sticks, and even stinky tofu—sweet or savory as one pleased.

After breakfast, it was only seven-thirty, and people started heading towards the mountain one after another.

As the Eighth Heavenly Cave among Daoist Sects, Maoshan wasn’t very tall, only over three hundred meters, but… a mountain does not need to be tall to be spiritual if it is inhabited by immortals.

It took Feng Jun and his group less than an hour to arrive at the site of the Heaven Worshiping Ceremony.

The Ten Directions Hall wasn’t far from the Maoshan Daoist Temple. People entering Maoshan from other directions had at least twice the distance to walk, and numerous electric carts shuttled back and forth transporting people.

The sky began to drizzle again, on and off.

At nine-thirty, the Heaven Worshiping Ceremony of Maoshan officially started, with more than ten thousand spectators crowding the site, nearly twenty thousand… probably just shy of that number.

But this was already quite remarkable. It was the depth of winter, it was raining, and the event had been prepared in less than a month. It was satisfactory to attract so many people.

However, among them, at least a thousand were dressed in Daoist robes.

The ceremony officially began, and Tang Wangsun stepped onto the stage, first inviting a leader from the civic commission to speak.

The big leader droned on for quite a while, then the middle-ranking leader took the stage and spoke for a bit, followed by several smaller-scale leaders who each took their turn to speak.

As the rain threatened to pour down again, the big leader finally began to urge Tang Tianshi to conduct the ceremonial rituals.

It was essentially the same set of religious proceedings.

However, Tang Wangsun was thorough in his preparations, first giving the gathered Daoist dignitaries of high virtue a brief introduction.

Among these venerable figures, there were those with profound cultivation levels, as well as some who were less accomplished. Feng Jun even spotted the dark-skinned middle-aged man from the day before, the one who had approached them at the Initial Stage of Emanation. This man hailed from a minor celestial part of Wangwu Mountain, surnamed Zheng.

The Wang Wu Lineage originally belonged to the Descendants’ Temple, and they typically ran their Daoist practice modestly. Yet this Daoist Zheng was somehow a Scripture Master, which puzzled Feng Jun—Scripture Master was one of the Five Masters within the trio of Elders and the eighteen leaders, but this system was that of the Ten Directions Forest, not of the Descendants’ Temple.

Feng Jun found this peculiar. If you were from the Descendants’ Temple but using the system of the Ten Directions Forest, that was strange enough, but this person also wore the title of Scripture Master and roamed around freely?

In the Ten Directions Forest, the Scripture Master, although only one of the Five Masters and slightly lesser than the trio of Elders, held a quite exalted status. Merely speaking of rank, a Scripture Master was even more revered than the head of the Five Masters, the Hall Master.

The Hall Master led the Ten Directions Hall and forged connections with Daoists from all over the world—truly a person of significant authority. The Scripture Master, on the other hand, was responsible for rituals and interpreting scriptures.

Interpreting scriptures meant holding the power of discourse—to teach, to resolve doubts and pass on the Way, all fell under his jurisdiction.

A more colloquial way to put it would be: in international relations, it’s him who defines universal values.

Whoever is the ruler decides who is prosperous, who is civilized and who is barbaric.

However, Feng Jun found the humor in this.

The Descendants’ Temple was passed down from master to disciple, with the utmost importance placed on continuing their own Daoist lineage. They usually kept any valuable knowledge hidden, and unlike the Ten Directions Forest, they were not willing to preach to the public and nurture all beings.

It was one thing for the modest Huayang Celestial Part to adopt the system of the Ten Directions Forest, but to introduce a Scripture Master? What was that all about?

Due to his curiosity, Feng Jun observed Daoist Zheng a few moments longer, which seemed to alert him. Daoist Zheng turned his head in Feng Jun’s direction and bared a smile, revealing his large yellow teeth.

This person… is somewhat interesting, Feng Jun thought, and spoke softly to Zhang Caixin and Gazi, “I’m stepping away for a moment. You two stay put and don’t worry about me.”

Soon after, a young Daoist with a sallow complexion approached and stood beside them.

Gazi and Gao Qiang glanced at him warily, but heard the Daoist speak under his breath, “What are you looking at? Focus on the ceremony.”

Truth be told, there wasn’t much to see in the ritual, and Gazi and Gao Qiang were bored. When they heard him speak, their eyes immediately lit up.

Gazi looked around subtly and leaned in as if nothing was amiss, whispering without moving his lips, “Brother Jun, that was a slick trick. Could you teach me how to do it?”

The young Daoist crossed his arms over his chest, watching the ceremony intently, but replied, “Do you think you can learn it? Improve your martial arts first, then we can talk about other things.”

Gao Qiang glanced at him sidelong with skepticism, “Master, this isn’t just some simple makeup technique, right?”

How could a mere makeup technique slim down a person’s body?

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Feng Jun did not reply. As long as everyone knew who he was, teaching them could wait until later.

The ritual lasted about an hour and a half, and afterward, the crowd moved to a pavilion.

Built against the mountain, the pavilion was actually semi-open; aside from one side abutting the mountain, the other three were supported by columns, with the pavilion’s roof covering over two hundred square meters.

In the center of the mountain wall side, there was a small, shallow cave—over two meters high, roughly a meter wide, and less than three meters deep.

Yet, for such a diminutive cave, there was a stone door sealing it. Now the stone door was open, revealing a stone turtle’s head about the size of a basketball, with its mouth agape, issuing a stream of water about as thick as a mung bean.

Yes, this cave was part of the “Jintan Huayang”—of course, only a portion, not the entirety. It is said that the Three Purities once cultivated here and later, Taoist Ancestor Tao received the supreme, subtle teachings of the Upper Clarity and also practiced here.

This stone turtle had a history of several hundred years; legend had it that whenever the Huayang Celestial Part was reopened, a Spiritual Spring would flow from it. The water was believed to bolster health and prevent diseases if consumed by ordinary people.

However, the stone door hadn’t been opened for decades. The last time it was, during the previous century’s drive to produce more steel, someone had heard the turtle was made of iron and came to check.

The Daoists from Maoshan were terrified. They filled the entrance with rubble and plated weeds and bushes over it to conceal it. During the campaign to eradicate the “Four Olds,” people came searching for the stone door but never found it.

Strictly speaking, it had been nearly a hundred years since water had flowed from the stone turtle, leading many Maoshan Daoists to consider it mere legend.

But Tang Wangsun and other senior members knew well enough that producing water was easy—just add water to the pool above.

The world had changed since a century ago, brimming with artificial landscapes. Creating a man-made sight was one thing, but to label it as a Spiritual Spring and risk exposure would seriously tarnish Maoshan’s reputation.

Of course, as long as the Daoist lineage continued, a slight dent in reputation was inconsequential.

The large pavilion where everyone gathered had in fact been built only in recent years. There were internal discussions within Maoshan about whether to reopen the Spiritual Spring to enhance their renown.

However, the Spiritual Spring was merely a gimmick, so the topic remained shelved.

But now, with the Spirit Gathering Array at their disposal, everything that had been on hold became achievable, including the restoration of the Spiritual Spring.

In truth, though the water flowing from the stone turtle was man-made, it was a small perk from Jintan Huayang itself.

The main site of the Eighth Heavenly Cave wasn’t here; it was deeper in the mountains, a place of quiet cultivation off-limits to tourists.

The Maoshan Daoists diverted some of the Spiritual Spring’s water using channels, granting blessings to the faithful while opportunistically collecting their offerings.

It was important to note that Taoist Ancestor Tao of Maoshan was a famed healer. In times of epidemic, he would mix medicine into the water. Subsequent Daoists often emulated this good deed.

Reopening Jintan Huayang, Maoshan wouldn’t expose the Cave Heaven to the public. Hence, reopening the stone door and letting the Spiritual Spring flow would be promoted as the reopening of the Eighth Heavenly Cave.

(First update, celebrating the alliance leader You Nong Suo’s support and calling for monthly tickets.)