Severing Ties: The Sect Regrets My Departure

Chapter 234: The Eighth Dao Platform, Master and Disciple Reunite

While Sui Xing and his cohorts were busy plotting their grand swindle to rake in a fortune, Gu Xiu was secluded within the minor world of the Mountain River Remnant World.

“This Dao Rhyme is incompatible.”

“Change it.”

“Try this one next.”

“…”

Gu Xiu sat cross-legged, his mind reaching out to summon the Heavenly Dao Rhyme.

In the realm of Foundation Establishment, forging seven Dao Platforms was considered Perfection. If one managed to forge an eighth, it would birth a Heavenly-grade Golden Core. And beyond that, if the ninth and final platform could be achieved, it would result in the legendary Perfect Golden Core.

Many knew of this hierarchy, but few ever achieved it. The final two platforms were exponentially more difficult than the first seven combined. They required not only peerless heavenly treasures but also a profound integration of one’s own comprehension of the Dao.

From the moment Gu Xiu rebuilt his foundation, he had been contemplating how to succeed in forging the eighth and ninth platforms. He had not gone into this blind; he had a plan mapped out from the very beginning.

For the eighth platform, his chosen material was the Heavenly Dao Rhyme itself.

This decision had solidified the moment he first held the Green Bamboo Rod, fished up the Heavenly Book of Talismans, and triggered the Homage of Ten Thousand Rhymes.

There were countless treasures in the world, but the Heavenly Dao Rhyme was the undisputed sovereign among them. Though it had no physical form, it was the manifestation of the world’s laws—omnipresent, inexhaustible, and eternal. That characteristic alone made it a supreme treasure.

The problem, however, was its intangibility.

Most cultivators could not see it, let alone touch it. Even Talisman Masters, who were experts in borrowing the power of heaven and earth, found it impossible to smelt the Heavenly Dao Rhyme into a physical Dao Platform.

Usually, a Talisman Master’s relationship with the Dao Rhyme was one of supplication. They had to make themselves agreeable, praying for the Dao Rhyme’s favor, hoping it would deign to assist them. Even the most powerful masters could, at best, achieve a state of cooperation.

This was evident in the need for Divine Invocation rituals.

To ask the Heavenly Dao Rhyme to solidify itself into a stepping stone for a cultivator’s personal growth? That was a fantasy.

But what was impossible for others was not impossible for Gu Xiu.

Possessing the Heavenly Book of Talismans had fundamentally altered his relationship with the laws of the world. There was no begging. There was barely even cooperation.

It was solicitation.

Every time he crafted a talisman, the Heavenly Dao Rhyme flocked to him, practically throwing itself at him, eager to be used. It wasn’t Gu Xiu asking for help; it was the laws of the world begging to be part of his work.

Under these circumstances, using the Heavenly Dao Rhyme to build a platform was simple. If he wished, he could have done it instantly.

Gu Xiu had delayed until now because of a specific concern.

Heavenly Dao Rhyme was the rule of this specific world. What if he left this world?

It was not an unfounded worry. The laws of one realm might not apply in another. If his foundation was built entirely on local laws, stepping into a different world could render him powerless. He had seen it happen in the Forbidden Realm—invincible enemies turning into corpses because their techniques failed to activate under alien skies.

Therefore, he needed to experiment.

He needed to find a specific frequency of Heavenly Dao Rhyme that was not limited to a single realm—a universal law.

Normally, testing this would be arduous. But now, he had the Mountain River Remnant World. This isolated micro-world had different environmental rules than the greater world outside, making it the perfect testing ground.

His task was tedious: continuously communicate with the Dao Rhymes, filter them through the laws of the Remnant World, and discard any that failed to function. He would sift through the chaos until he found the eternal constants.

Then, he would forge those constants into his eighth Dao Platform.

It was a boring, repetitive process. But as a cultivator, Gu Xiu was accustomed to loneliness. Compared to five hundred years of torture in the Forbidden Realm or the three years of betrayal in Qingxuan, this was nothing more than a quiet afternoon.

While Gu Xiu immersed himself in the dull grind of cultivation, the scene outside the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion in Cloud Firmament City was becoming increasingly lively.

It was early morning. The sky was just beginning to brighten.

Yu Sihai, leader of the Four Seas Gang, and his advisor, Yin Wenshu, hurried through the alleys, heading straight for the pavilion.

“Do you really think the one inside is an Immortal?” Yu Sihai asked, his voice hushed. He still found it hard to believe.

Yesterday, they had concluded that the residents were Immortals—specifically the “Four Ancient Sages” attempting to temper their hearts in the mortal world. The more they analyzed the “duel” they had witnessed, the more plausible it seemed.

But the word “Immortal” carried a weight that made one’s knees weak.

“Whether he is an Immortal or not, we will only know after we meet him,” Yin Wenshu said, shaking his head. “But remember, under no circumstances can we offend the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion today.”

“I know that,” Yu Sihai said nervously. “But do you think simply visiting is sincere enough? Should I not carry the thorns?”

He was referring to the ancient rite of Negative Jing Qing Zui—stripping to the waist and carrying thorny branches on one’s back to beg for punishment. In Yu Sihai’s mind, if they had offended an Immortal, they needed to prostrate themselves completely.

Yin Wenshu had rejected the idea.

“An Immortal in seclusion does not wish to be disturbed by a spectacle. If you march through the streets half-naked with thorns on your back, you will draw the entire city’s attention to him. That would not be an apology; it would be a nuisance. We might end up annoying him further.”

“But will he feel our sincerity without it?” Yu Sihai worried.

“Sincerity isn’t about theatrics; it’s about action. The rare treasures we’ve prepared are proof of our sincerity,” Yin Wenshu reassured him. “When we knock on the door, we must display humility, express our remorse, and carefully probe his identity. Yesterday’s offense was a mistake, but if handled correctly, it could become a heaven-sent opportunity.”

As they walked, Yin Wenshu coached Yu Sihai on the nuances of their approach.

First, verify the identity. Second, display guilt and a desire to compensate. Third, use the apology to bridge the gap and turn a potential enemy into a powerful patron.

“If we succeed, we could ascend alongside him,” Yin Wenshu whispered, his eyes gleaming with ambition. “This might be the only chance in our lives to touch the hem of an Immortal’s robe.”

Yu Sihai sighed in admiration. “As expected of a former top scholar. You really have a method for everything.”

Yin Wenshu smiled confidently. He felt destiny calling.

However, the smile froze on his face the moment they turned the corner into the alley.

There was someone else standing in front of the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion’s gate.

A figure in scholarly robes was bowing respectfully to the closed door.

“This humble scholar, Ning Yuan, has come specifically to pay respects to the master of this place.”

Ning Yuan?

The schoolteacher?

Yin Wenshu knew him. Before Ning Yuan had opened his academy, they had met on the streets a few times. They had discussed the classics and philosophy. Ning Yuan had always been humble and polite, leaving Yin Wenshu with a favorable impression.

But… why was he here? And why now?

Yin Wenshu and Yu Sihai exchanged a sharp, wary glance.

Ning Yuan seemed to sense their presence. He turned around, a look of mild surprise on his face. He smiled warmly. “Brother Yin? What a coincidence to meet you here.”

“Indeed, quite a coincidence,” Yin Wenshu said stiffly, glancing at the closed door. “Brother Ning, you are here for…?”

“Oh,” Ning Yuan said, his voice smooth and earnest. “As Brother Yin knows, this humble scholar has a smattering of knowledge regarding Formations. I discovered that the protective array here seems to have been tampered with by some ruffian. I came to warn the owner and offer my meager skills to help repair it.”

Tampered with?

Yin Wenshu and Yu Sihai felt their blood run cold.

The “tampering” was the Night Illuminating Nail they had installed. They were here to apologize for it before they got caught. But now, Ning Yuan had shown up, playing the role of the righteous Samaritan, offering to fix the damage they caused.

If Ning Yuan pointed out the sabotage to the “Immortal” inside, and the Immortal investigated…

They were finished.

Ning Yuan was climbing the ladder of success by stepping on their corpses!

“Brother Ning has sharp eyes,” Yin Wenshu said, his voice dripping with forced politeness. “The formation here is so concealed. To spot a flaw at a glance… such ability is rare indeed.”

He was implying: We used a stealth tool. How did you see it unless you were spying too?

Ning Yuan didn’t bat an eye. “Actually, it was because this humble scholar happened to see a suspicious figure acting sneakily around here yesterday. It aroused my vigilance,” he said, shaking his head with righteous indignation.

“Speaking of which, I do not know what kind of person would do such a thing. To harm others without benefiting oneself… such underhanded methods in our Cloud Firmament City! It made this humble scholar quite angry. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.”

He sighed dramatically. “That is why I hurried over at first light. I hope to alert the master and perhaps be of some assistance.”

His words were impeccable. High-minded. Principled.

But to Yin Wenshu and Yu Sihai, every word was a dagger. He was roasting them over a fire, and he knew it.

“Teacher Ning is truly a good person,” Yu Sihai said through gritted teeth, his eyes flashing with undisguised killing intent.

Ning Yuan ignored the threat completely. He smiled, looking like a saint in the morning light.

“Good or bad is for others to judge. We scholars only need to remember one thing: Do good deeds, and do not ask about the future.” He looked at Yin Wenshu. “I assume Brother Yin shares this sentiment?”

Yin Wenshu clenched his jaw, unable to reply.

He understood now. This Ning Yuan was no benevolent teacher. From the moment they met, this man had likely been plotting against him.

Creak—!

Suddenly, the heavy wooden gates of the pavilion groaned open.

The three men straightened up instantly, their hearts pounding. They looked toward the entrance, expecting an ancient sage or a peerless sword immortal.

However…

Contrary to all expectations, the person standing in the doorway was not an expert.

It was a toddler in a small dress.

Her pink, tender face was filled with curiosity, and her clear, innocent eyes held none of the terrifying pressure of an Immortal.

It was Little Ping’an.