Chapter 551 31: Wang Ping's Image in the Mortal World

For a Cultivator, a month is but the blink of an eye. In that brief span, the vast Zhongzhou Continent underwent earth-shattering changes.

First, the Yang Clan appeared out of nowhere in Pingzhou Road. They once again raised the banner of the 'Qi Country', seceding from the Chu Country to establish their own nation and temples. Next, in the Liangjiang Region, several clans denounced the tyranny of the Chu Kingdom Court. They jointly elected the Liu Family of Dalin Prefecture as their lord and broke away from the Chu Kingdom Court, founding a new country named 'Wu'. They immediately marched their armies south in an attempt to capture Jinhuai City in one fell swoop.

Then, the three roads of True Yang Mountain each declared independence. This region's situation was particularly dramatic. It began with three regimes, but after half a month, this fractured into dozens. Some large local clans dared to seize a small county town, build an ancestral temple, and proclaim themselves Emperor!

The great clans of Jianglin Road, seeking to protect themselves, initially allied and pledged fealty to the Datong Marquisate. However, in less than half a month, they rebelled and established a new country called 'Zheng'. The Datong Marquisate sent no troops to suppress them, as their entire Court was busy with the matter of relocating the capital. More importantly, their Chancellor, Zhang Xinghuai, had retired and returned to his hometown.

Fortunately, the Datong Marquisate remained relatively united internally. Aside from some minor rebellions in Shanwu Road, most of its other regions remained stable.

Furthermore, over in Qingpu Road, more than a dozen regimes popped up overnight, each claiming to be descendants of the Xia Dynasty. Within half a month, they were already at war with one another.

It was like a game. Someone had slightly altered the rules, and in an instant, the world descended into chaos. Once the ambitions of mortals were left unchecked, they blazed like a wildfire. Some Entering Cultivators even led commoners in rebellion. Following them, the people witnessed things they had never before imagined, and their own ambitions began to grow wildly.

Amidst the turmoil of the Zhongzhou Continent, there were still some places where flowers bloomed in the spring warmth and the sun shone brightly, presenting a facade of lasting peace.

Zhonghui County Town, situated below Qianmu Temple, was one such place.

The county town had become especially bustling over the past month. Many great clans from the south had moved their entire households to Zhonghui County, causing the price of fertile land outside the town to skyrocket. The prices changed practically every hour.

Although Great Realm Cultivators were forbidden from competing for the Divine Artifact, if someone came to cause trouble on their home turf, that was another matter entirely.

The most prosperous area in the county town was the East Market Square in the eastern district.

The entire Zhonghui County Town had grown from this very spot. In the beginning, it was just nearby villagers and traveling peddlers catering to the pilgrims on their way to offer incense at Qianmu Temple, selling ordinary snacks and food.

Today, the path to Qianmu Mountain had vanished. In its place stood a version of Qianmu Mountain Daoist Temple born from the imagination of the Mortal World. It consisted of three separate palace halls. The front hall enshrined various True Monarchs, Lords, and the past Ancestral Masters of Qianmu Temple. Wang Ping's statue was also here, though it was placed at the very end of the line.

Besides the main hall, there were two side halls. The one on the left was dedicated solely to Wang Ping. His statue stood in the very center of the hall, a full thirty feet tall. It was carved from jade and coated with a layer of gold dust mixed with various pigments.

His statue had two forms. One depicted him in a purple Taoist ceremonial robe, holding a Duster, and standing on an auspicious cloud. A seven-colored Profound Light radiated from behind him. Yu Lian was coiled around his left arm, her head resting on his left shoulder, as he gazed down upon all living beings.

The other form was attached behind him, appearing more like a background for this Taoist visage. In this backdrop, Wang Ping was portrayed as a green-faced, tusked god of slaughter. In his left hand, he held a pitch-black mirror; his right hand was fixed in a Spell gesture. Above his head was a colossal serpent, visible only as a phantom, while countless twisted puppets writhed beneath his feet. Before him, the sky was filled with flying swords.

One could only say that the imagination of mortals was rich. Based on mere rumors and the accounts of Qianmu Temple disciples, they had managed to capture Wang Ping's image more or less accurately. Yet, they could never truly understand what these depictions represented.

Flanking Wang Ping's statue were several of his disciples. The foremost was Liu Shuang. She was depicted with the classic air of an immortal, wearing a purple Daoist Robe and holding a Duster. A pervasive Profound Light emanated from behind her, and at her cloud-stepping feet followed a lively hound.

She was depicted this way thanks to her fondness for walking the Mortal World. Many people had seen her with their own eyes, and some had even received her aid.

Below her was the statue of Su Hai, who appeared as a typical, ordinary Cultivator in a Blue Daoist Robe, forming a Spell with his hands and gazing forward intently. Next was Hu Qianqian. The sculptor must have put considerable effort into her statue, making her seem full of life yet unapproachable. At her feet were two snarling foxes, their bloodthirsty eyes staring at the visiting pilgrims.

After Hu Qianqian came Wang Yang, who also looked like a very ordinary Cultivator. The difference between him and Su Hai was that his statue carried a Longsword on its back, making him look like a Sword Immortal from a storybook.

Shen Xiaozhu's statue was placed opposite Liu Shuang, on the left-hand side. She looked focused and serious, with a five-colored Profound Light behind her that gave her a mysterious air. Below her were Xia Wen Yi, Song Qu, and Xuanling. Aside from their heads and facial expressions, these three were otherwise identical, depicted as Cultivators in Blue Daoist Robes holding Dusters.

This hall was the place in the Daoist Temple that received the most incense offerings each day. Every morning at 7:15 AM, designated Daoists would preside over the hall. Scriptures would be chanted from morning until night, and they would constantly toss divination blocks to ask for guidance.

Especially in the last month, the influx of pilgrims had packed the Daoist Temple's courtyard so tightly that Inner Sect Disciples from Qianmu Temple had to be dispatched to maintain order. The daily Incense Money collected amounted to hundreds of thousands of taels.

This was because Daoist Temples throughout the south had a common practice: pilgrims who donated ten thousand taels in Incense Money would be granted the status of a nominal disciple. Some wealthy great clans would donate large sums of Incense Money when their eldest son came of age, securing nominal disciple titles from major sects like Qianmu Temple or the Six Heart Sect.

This status held no real power; it was just a title. But in the current turbulent times, such a title was immensely useful. If you found yourself at the mercy of a rogue army's blades, claiming to be a nominal disciple of Qianmu Temple could very well save your life.

Such was the reputation of Qianmu Temple in the south, and indeed, across most of the Zhongzhou Continent!

「Outside the Daoist Temple.」

At the end of the square's main street was a tavern. It was a large establishment; the main hall alone could accommodate two hundred people for tea and meals at the same time. There were also rows of tables, chairs, and benches outside under the eaves along the street.

Despite this, the tavern was rarely empty, no matter the time of day.

The tavern's main hall was currently buzzing with a cacophony of voices. Bare-chested waiters, drenched in sweat, scurried between the tables. All the seating in the hall was arranged around a central stage.

Today's performance on the stage was storytelling. The storyteller was currently arranging his tea set when a wealthy gentleman near the stage cleared his throat and called out, "I say, storyteller! How about you tell us the tale of General Liu Yue from the former dynasty, and how he crushed the Northern Army?"

His suggestion immediately resonated with many in the crowd, and shouts of agreement rose and fell throughout the hall.

In a private room on the second floor, Wang Ping, who was in the process of "recovering his humanity," heard their clamor and couldn't help but sigh with emotion. "To think that Liu Yue has already become a figure of legend."