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墨書 Inktalez
The emergence of Zuo Dao was grand, as the tightly shut stone door exploded open with a thunderous bang. Debris flew everywhere, startling those nearby who scattered in all directions.
"Damn it, beat him up."
"This guy is getting too cocky!"
"Deadbeat, you're asking for trouble!"
Before Zuo Dao even stepped outside, a wave of curses came crashing down on him, a true display of public outrage.
Without a second thought, he turned and ran. But he hadn't gotten far when a foot landed hard on his backside.
"Brat, you think you're cool showing up like this? Wow, does it feel impressive to make an entrance like that?"
Zuo Dao executed a perfect dogeza, bowing low to the ground.
Before he could react, he felt his collar tighten.
"You lot clean this up. The old man wants to have a chat with your junior brother about life."
Amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, the Drunken Old Man dragged Zuo Dao away with ease.
Indeed, a master was still a master.
Zuo Dao was tossed casually to the side upon reaching the peak.
"Not bad, your vitality is robust, and True Essence flows ceaselessly within you. It seems your retreat was quite effective," the Drunken Old Man remarked as he scrutinized Zuo Dao.
"Drunken Old Man, could you please stop looking at me like that every time? It's really scary."
Zuo Dao rubbed his backside as he stood up from the ground. Every time he was looked at like this by his master, he knew it meant trouble.
"Brat, you think you're cool showing up like this? Stop the chatter; I brought you here for a reason," the Drunken Old Man said, casually tossing a wine gourd to Zuo Dao, indicating that he could drink.
"Old man, what's the matter? It's rare to see you with such a serious expression!" Since arriving at Zuo Wang Peak, Zuo Dao had never noticed the Drunken Old Man looking this serious before.
"You've been at Zuo Wang Peak for five years now. Although you haven't asked, I can tell you have many questions in your heart," the Drunken Old Man beckoned him closer.
"We haven't had a proper conversation because back then, there were some things you wouldn't have understood. Not only would it have been unhelpful, but it could have been harmful."
The Drunken Old Man continued. Although Zuo Dao remained silent, he was filled with resentment inside.
"Now that you know you're my disciple, why didn't you tell me back when you tricked me into coming to the peak?"
It seemed as if the Drunken Old Man could hear his thoughts.
"You don't need to feel wronged; this is just how things are on the peak. It has been this way for tens of thousands of years. I provide you with a cultivation method and an environment for training; if you can't achieve anything, I would have long since abandoned you. Why would I care about your life or death?"
Upon hearing this, Zuo Dao's heart stirred with tumultuous waves.
"Tens of thousands of years. This ordinary mountain peak I've been staying on has existed for tens of thousands of years—doesn't that mean its history is even longer than that of San Gong?"
The expression on his face was remarkable, and the Drunken Old Man noticed it.
"Is it strange? Do you feel like time has flown by?" The Drunken Old Man teased as he observed his disciple's current expression for the first time.
"For ages, hardly anyone remembers Zuo Wang Peak," the tone of nostalgia still revealed a hint of unwillingness in Zuo Dao's heart.
Indeed, for ages! It had survived through long years yet remained obscure all this time. What a sorrowful fate!
"What's the point of doing this with someone as insignificant as you?" The Drunken Old Man quickly regained his composure.
"This situation could have continued indefinitely, but now, because of your presence, it has drawn the attention of some people."
"Remember every word I say to you now; it is crucial for your future, for the future of Zuo Wang Peak, and even for the futures of Yan Zhen and his companions, which are in your hands."
The old man's tone was grave, and the implications of his words were even heavier.
Zuo Dao set down his drink and silently watched his master.
The old man was already gray-haired, with deep lines etched on his face by the passage of time. His body was slightly hunched. Against the sunlight, he appeared like a towering giant.
"Master."
"The Lord of Zuo Wang Peak—Ziwang Zhenren—no one knows where he came from. Although he has long been titled True God, he still refers to himself as Zhenren."
With that, the Sour Old Man cast a meaningful glance at Zuo Dao.
Shock.
True God...
Zhenren...
Not caring about Zuo Dao's reaction, the Drunken Old Man continued:
"When Ziwang Zhenren departed from this world, he left behind a saying: 'After I am gone, if someone can resonate with this object in the future, they may open the mountain gates wide and shine forth the glory of Zuo Wang Peak, restoring its prosperous era; otherwise, it shall remain dormant.'"
Zuo Dao slowly walked back to his residence. The wind rose, lifting the corners of his clothing. His steps were heavy as he tightly gripped something in his hand.
During this time, the Drunken Old Man had said a lot to him, each word striking deep into his soul.
It was chaotic, very chaotic; his heart was in turmoil.
Some things that he did not understand before now seemed a bit clearer, yet there were even more uncertainties.
Ziwang Zhenren—could it be a Golden Core Cultivator?
True God—above the gods?
Cultivation equates to the later stages, Cultivator equals Qi Training, Holy Lord equals Foundation, Great Power equals Golden Core?
Yet Ziwang Zhenren held the title of True God.
"Sigh," Master Zuo Dao breathed out.
"The fruits of this world are indeed profound."
Upon returning to his residence, Zuo Dao no longer felt the joy of having emerged from seclusion. His senior brothers and sisters were not waiting for him.
The entire Zuo Wang Peak was quiet at this moment.
Zuo Dao sat by the window, quietly gazing at the distant mountains. An unprecedented tranquility enveloped him.
Since he first arrived in this world, he had struggled daily for his livelihood, enduring hunger and cold stares for three years. After being taken up the peak by his master, he spent another five years in relentless cultivation.
For nearly a decade, Zuo Dao had never found a moment of peace. Now he realized that it wasn't that he couldn't calm down; it was that he instinctively rejected tranquility.
Because he was afraid—this was a primal reaction. In an unfamiliar world surrounded by strangers, he harbored a shocking secret. The more he thought about it, the more fearful he became. Thus, subconsciously, he had been avoiding it all along.
However, this conversation today made him unable to ignore the issue any longer.
Where did the Ziwang Zhenren come from? Is it really as he imagined, a cultivator? Everything felt like a dream; if it weren't for the object in his hand, Zuo Dao would truly think it was all an illusion.
On the surface, it resembled a miniature version of Zuo Wang Peak, no larger than the size of a palm. He couldn't tell what material it was made of; it looked like gold but felt like wood.
Yet, when held in his hand, it subtly connected with the energy within him, providing a comforting sensation.
The Essence within him continuously flowed into it autonomously, and as it returned to his body, it became even purer.
What a treasure.
Zuo Dao attempted to recognize it by dripping blood.
A drop of crystal-clear blood was forced out and fell upon it. Before Zuo Dao could react, the drop instantly absorbed into his palm. When he looked again, there was now a vivid tattoo of Zuo Wang Peak in the center of his palm.
"Damn it, all you Celestial Beings up there, I thought something earth-shattering would happen. Why not create some kind of phenomenon with thunder and lightning?"
Zuo Dao's lips twitched as he thought maliciously.
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