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Crouching Tiger, Hidden Mountain

From a commoner in an ancient era to a world beyond imagination, a warrior of a forgotten time blessed with a second chance. Vanquish evils! Protect the weak! Roaming jianghu, slaying fiends, return to the hidden mountain and enjoy idyllic life. --- This is a story about redemption. The fragility of humanity, but also its resilience. It is about the human aspect of immortal cultivators, the sacrifices they make and how they change and develop over the course of their journeys. It begins with the conscription of a peasant in the Spring-Autumn period of ancient China, his hardships and friendships along the way. When a mortal suddenly becomes immortal, what does he do with all that power? When directionless and lost, how will he rediscover his sense of self? This is the story of a peasant-turned-something-greater; of immortals and demons; of heroes and villains. --- https://www.patreon.com/YinLongshan?fan_landing=true&view_as=public Support me on Patreon~ Get access to chapters in advance!

YinLongshan · Fantasy
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64 Chs

The Three Principles

Wuxian marvelled at the pair of interspatial rings. They appeared to be made of platinum. The one on his left hand had the likeness of a phoenix carved into it, with a red gem embedded in the phoenix's head. The one on his right hand had a dragon carving, a red gem held inside the dragon's wide mouth.

"Most lone cultivators or unconnected sect cultivators only manage to earn their first interspatial ring at around late Foundation stage or early Qi condensation stage. As for you, you silver-spoon, second-generation spoiled brat, you get one before you even qualify as a Qi Refining rookie." Black Emperor Mountain Hermit said, disdain dripping off his words.

Wuxian ignored the words, playing with the rings instead.

"How do I use them, master?"

"Inject a small amount of your innate qi into the gems on either ring. Do so until the gem begins to glisten- that signals whether it's full of qi or not. In the immortal world, we call this a 'spirit battery'. Only when it is charged fully with your qi can it be opened."

Wuxian began injecting qi into both rings simultaneously. It took a quarter of an hour for the spirit batteries to reach full capacity. 

"Next, move your consciousness into the ring using your qi as its vessel. When your mind is inside, look for a big switch and flip it on. That'll activate the ring."

He obeyed his master's instructions, channelling a minuscule amount of wood qi and sending it into the dragon ring. 

Within, the world was dark, save for what was quite literally a wooden lever that was embedded into the floor. Using his willpower, Wuxian pushed it, activating the ring.

The next moment, his will was ejected from the ring, though he felt that he could reenter at will, any time and place.

"Good. Now take a manual and place it within 1 metre away from the gemstone on the ring. From there, bring your will into the ring and focus on absorbing the manual."

Wuxian nodded, his eyes glazing over. The next instant, normalcy was restored. The only difference was that the manual he had been holding had vanished.

Looking down at the gem on his ring, he could see a miniaturised version of the manual sitting within the darkness.

The next few hours were spent frantically robbing his master. After all, within the span of a couple more days, only one of them would still have a use for all of these items, while the other would have long shuffled off from this mortal coil.

Black Emperor Mountain Hermit, despite wearing a black expression and hateful glare, helpfully explained what each item Wuxian plundered did, its name and so on. Occasionally, he would open up a secret hidden compartment built into a pillar or wall and extract a stash of spirit stones from one or a combat enhancing pill from another.

At the end, Wuxian's storage rings were almost completely full. Each one only had a maximum capacity of five square metres in the first place, so it was to be expected.

In total, he had looted, ahem, borrowed, dozens of items. From cultivation manuals and spell scrolls all the way to various spirit herbs and even some furniture.

The number of spirit stones he had inherited from his master were no small amount either, totalling up to around 269,000 lesser spirit stones, or 2690 medial spirit stones, or roughly 27 greater spirit stones.

Don't look down on this double digit number of 27 greater spirit stones. According to his master, Wuxian had learnt that one could purchase a bustling city from a mortal kingdom for merely two or three, while lesser human or demon kingdoms might even be willing to give up their claim to the throne in exchange for 20 to 30 greater spirit stones.

From mortal to fledgling immortal, from penniless peasant to someone with the net worth of a mortal kingdom, the difference was strange to take in.

Wuxian had half expected there to be some sort of magical change to take place in his body or mindset after becoming a multimillionaire, but he was still him, only wealthier.

He clenched his fists, feeling the qi surging throughout his body. Having become more practised at the art of multitasking, he was able to circulate the Nine Revolutions Earthfire technique whilst moving about. Now, his cultivation base was slowly but steadily increasing by the minute.

'I finally have the power to save my brothers, my soldiers, my country. Mian Ji, Xiao Chong, you'd better wait for me. If you die, I'll chase you to the Yellow Springs and fight it out with Granny Meng and the ten Yama kings!'

Feeling a sense of determination, Wuxian couldn't help but smile also. The feeling of having a greater purpose made him feel invincible. Of course, he didn't truly believe he was untouchable, but the feeling was enjoyable nonetheless.

"Wuxian, stop daydreaming and come here." Came Black Emperor's voice.

Wuxian looked up and obliged, trotting to the centre of the chamber where his master floated.

"You met briefly upon your first arrival in this place."

Wuxian wore a puzzled look.

"Met whom? Master, there's nobody else here but us."

Black Emperor shook his head.

"I think it's about time I tell you a little about myself, about your forebears.

There was once a young lad who was born into a barbarian tribe. These barbarians were well known amongst the local region for their savagery and their martial prowess. Contrastingly, they were also well known for their sense of honour and their poetry.

You see, these barbarians spoke rarely, often letting out battle cries more often than they talked to one another- you can see from this that not only were they people of few words, but they also spent lots of time fighting.

Now, these barbarians were often contracted by mortal kingdoms to aid them in military conflicts. This had a deep-lasting effect on the culture and the people of the barbarian tribe. They became more militaristic, favoured progeny of greater athleticism and physical capabilities. They favoured yang over yin, considering the boys and men to be more useful since they were naturally more adept at fighting than the girls and the women.

But this was the start of their demise. Once they realised that their gender ratio was severely imbalanced, it was too late. The losses from war tallied up and their rate of reproduction was not enough to keep the war machine running.

One day, the tribal chieftain and his elders made the decision to renounce their military contracts, laying down their arms and focusing on a more agrarian lifestyle. Of course, this was a great insult to those mortal kingdoms who had already paid them money and expected fighting men in return.

The chieftain and his elders knew that the mortal kingdoms would be unhappy with them, beginning a great migration to a new region. They sought to relocate their entire tribe of peoples through hazardous new terrain, they sought to find a new territory where their people could live a peaceful and prosperous life.

But who knew the mortal kingdoms would be so quick to act? Before the great migration had even began, armies had arrived, laying waste to the barbarian lands and killing and enslaving the barbarian peoples."

Black Emperor Mountain Hermit had an expression of reminiscence on his face. It was clear that he had experienced these events himself and had been deeply affected by them.

"The young lad was not even of age when he was captured by the mortal kingdom. He was sold off to a wealthy family of the nobility as a servant. He, as a barbarian boy, was not even used to fight in gladiatorial combat or used as a retainer. He was merely a pet, raised for the entertainment of the noble's children.

So one day, sick of humiliation and being at the mercy of others, the barbarian boy single handedly killed every member of the noble's family. He killed the men, the women, the adults and the servants.

He took their belongings and ran for the hills, quickly becoming a wanted outlaw in the region.

Knowing he would be eternally hunted, he did the unthinkable. He braved the dangerous wilds, trekking uncharted routes and eventually making it to the paradise that his barbarian clan had originally intended to migrate to.

It was here that he stumbled upon his first fortuitous encounter. He found the inheritance site of a long-dead lone cultivator. It was a meagre inheritance, merely possessing some books on the immortal world's basic knowledge, amongst other things, and a cultivation technique. But to the weak barbarian boy who desired power above all else, it was a gift from the Heavens.

Then, spending only a week to fully learn every single technique and spell recorded in that tomb, the boy progressed all the way from nothing to becoming a Qi Refiner." He paused for a moment. By now, it was clear that Black Emperor was telling Wuxian his life story.

"In that regard, I was more talented than you. Unable to read the words written in those books, I had learned how to cultivate from diagrams alone. At the time, I remember passing out frequently from blood loss caused by my frequent backlashes." He chuckled, stroking his beard.

"Anyway, back to the story. The barbarian boy progressed rapidly through the ranks. Once he had become strong enough, he began to roam jianghu, doing as he pleased. As a reckless youth who had no regard for tradition or common customs, he naturally ended up offending many and making enemies out of many as well.

Combined with the natural xenophobia that was present at the time towards lone cultivators and barbarians especially, he couldn't even sleep at night without having to worry for his safety.

Now, his fame was beginning to spread. 'The Wildman', 'The Black-skinned Barbarian' they called him. And this was of great detriment to him.

It turns out that the mortal noble family that had purchased him, whom he had slaughtered, had been the family of a sect cultivator. Though sect cultivators went through the tradition of leaving their connections to the past behind, the murder of an entire noble family had caused even the emperor of the mortal kingdom to beg for immortal assistance.

In order to save face, the sect decided to allow the cultivator to repay the karma and avenge his family. He brought with him many fellow disciples and hired-hands. And many of them died at the hand of the barbarian immortal soon after.

The affair ended up causing great losses to the sect, who decided to properly intervene. They sent out three Nascent Soul elders to stamp out the pest that was the barbarian immortal.

And this was also my greatest fortune. The truth is, while I have portrayed myself as the victim, I have in fact omitted details about the many crimes I had committed over the years. As an outcast, it was difficult to obtain human interaction, harder still to procure food and wares.

So I turned to the easiest route. I plundered and I killed. Heroes and villains had all fallen by my hand. At this time, I even took on the Daoist name "Black Emperor". Black, because my people were known as the 'Hei', and Emperor because I did not want to suffer the injustice of being a peasant or subject any longer. Rather than be ruled, I wanted to rule others instead.

And so, now that the sect had sent three powerhouses to deal with a Golden Core barbarian, many eyes in the immortal world began to look over. One such pair of eyes belonged to your grandmaster.

At first, I did not understand why your grandmaster had chosen me to inherit his legacy, but once he told me his story, and later his master's story, I begun to understand.

We were all peasants with broken and ungraceful upbringings. We had all suffered injustice and we had all dealt injustice in turn. What does this mean?

We were all criminals. Or, better put, reformed brigands. It was somewhat of an unspoken tradition of our line of cultivators- take in the young and misguided and guide them on the path of righteousness. Do not merely speak words of flattery and sweetness, but show your intent through action.

Do you know? Your grandmaster took me captive from under the jaws of the three sect elders, whisking me to some place far away. He sealed my cultivation and his own, putting his life at risk, merely for the sake of teaching a murderer who he barely knew.

For twenty years, he and I travelled through the mortal realm. For those twenty years, neither of us used a single drop of spirit qi, relying on our worn bodies and fraying minds.

He forced me to see the suffering of the land and its people, to see the injustice that stained every corner of human society.

And he taught me how to help the people. Maybe the methods we used were temporary, like bandaging a festering wound or applying a healing salve to a cold and lifeless corpse. But in those fleeting moments where we sat in the freezing cold of Winter along with many homeless peasants, sharing bowls of congee amongst us, I began to realise the truth.

I found my Dao heart."

Wuxian listened with rapturous attention. His usually witty mouth was sealed shut, desperate to hear more.

"Your grandmaster taught me several lessons over the course of my discipleship.

First. Do not discriminate based on race or appearance. The commoner, the barbarian, the alien and the native all suffer the same woes. They all bleed when cut. They all starve during famine. They all love. They all sacrifice. Under the Heavens, all men suffer. Only in unity, in the sharing of one's weals and woes, can we lessen the burden and heal as a collective.

Second. Forgive those who have harmed you. Never use excess force and always show mercy, even to those who would not do the same for you. There is no revenge sweeter than that which need not be taken. Turn foes to friends.

Third. Do not tolerate injustice, but do not sacrifice yourself for a vain cause. When you can afford to intervene, do so. When you cannot, fret not and be patient. Heal the damage created by the evildoer and bide your time. When you are strong, teach them the err of their ways."

Wuxian said nothing, only bowing in reverence. He had a newfound respect for not only his grandmaster, but his master too.

Black Emperor smiled. "Would you like to know your grandmaster's favourite phrase?"

Wuxian nodded.

"With strong roots come lush branches and vibrant leaves." He recited poetically, an eight character idiom.

"This phrase has many applications. As to what exactly, I shall leave it to you to find out. You may consider this my final lesson to you as your master."

*根壮而后,枝叶繁茂。

The direct translation is "after strong roots come luxuriant branches and leaves", but I translated it more poetically.

Also, it's a made up idiom.

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