The greatest hermits hide in the bustling city; the lesser ones retreat to the wild.
Lu suppressed his cultivation, becoming an ordinary man once more. He wheeled himself into Nanjiang City, hands turning the rims of his chair.
He moved slowly through its streets.
Compared to the serene isolation of Lake Heart Island, Nanjiang—the largest city in the southern prefecture—throbbed with the raw, unmatched vitality of everyday life.
Under the rule of the Great Xuan Divine Dynasty these past years, mortals and cultivators had been almost entirely segregated. Ordinary people knew cultivators existed, but rarely encountered them.
Thus, mortal life remained simple and unadorned.
Lu had originally planned to start in Nanjiang and wander across the entire Five Phoenixes Continent.
Yet this time, something stirred within him upon entering the city. He decided to settle here instead, spending mortal silver and gold to purchase a small shop.
It was a place long gathering dust, aged and forgotten. Its previous owner had been an elderly woodcarver, and the interior was still cluttered with countless small carved trinkets.
After buying it from the merchant, Lu tidied up a little but left the wood carvings untouched.
Living as a mortal in Nanjiang City, he immersed himself in the dust and clamor of the human world.
From the moment he first appeared in the Five Phoenixes, Lu had stood at the pinnacle. He had never truly tasted the ordinary.
Now, at last, he could quiet his heart and experience it.
In the Yuan Magnetic Heaven, the killing formation continued to churn.
The Absolute Heaven Array was a heavenly-tier slaughter formation. With Lu’s Thousand-Bladed Chair as its core, its destructive power had become utterly terrifying.
Once activated, the invading army from the Upper Realm was doomed to annihilation.
Lu did not bother to check.
He did not even dispel the array.
The Heavenly Gate vanished.
The region within the Yuan Magnetic Heaven remained shrouded in the rolling formation, now a forbidden domain.
Occasionally, cultivators from the Yuan Magnetic Heaven would glance over and glimpse a sea of blood within, corpses tumbling in crimson waves.
Terrified, they fled in panic.
Was anyone still alive inside?
No one knew, for no one dared enter to find out.
Most likely, no one had survived.
News that the Upper Realm’s conquest army had been trapped and destroyed spread like wildfire through the Lower Three Heavens.
Soon, it reached the Upper Realm.
The Yun Clan and Dao Clan were horrified.
They dispatched powerful experts to descend and investigate outside the formation.
The fearsome array still radiated a dreadful aura, crisscrossed with lethal intent.
“This is a peerless murderous formation. It will take at least a decade for its malice to dissipate,” one of the Upper Realm experts declared gravely.
They suspected survivors might remain inside but dared not conclude it.
The investigators soon returned and reported back to their clans.
The powerhouses of the Yun and Dao Clans flew into a rage.
The Yun Clan petitioned their Saint Ancestor to intervene and break the array.
Boom!
The skies above the Yuan Magnetic Heaven darkened as a terrifying presence blanketed the firmament.
A colossal shadow that blotted out sun and moon appeared—the Yun Clan’s Saint Ancestor, manifesting once more.
With supreme methods, he seemed to reverse heaven and earth.
His gaze flickered as visions unfolded before him: the peerless killing array in motion, the ferocious beast atop the Heavenly Gate awakening.
One after another, the invading cultivators of the Upper Realm perished in agony, rivers of blood flowing, the scenes brutal beyond measure.
Yet the Saint Ancestor remained unmoved.
His eyes blazed with divine light, piercing through the formation toward the Heavenly Gate beyond.
Boom!
His aura erupted.
The Heavenly Gate—which only ascendants could summon—materialized within the killing array.
Creak…
As though pushed by an immense force, the gate slowly swung open, revealing the realm beyond.
The Saint Ancestor’s radiant gaze bored straight through, seeking the land of ascension.
He beheld a pitch-black mountain and a solitary figure with his back turned.
Suddenly, a chill ran down the Saint Ancestor’s spine.
As the Yun Clan’s ancient progenitor who had lived countless ages, he had once personally witnessed that Great Emperor’s silhouette.
He still remembered those days when he was merely an insignificant member of the clan, gazing in awe at that back…
The Saint Ancestor withdrew his gaze.
He did not dare act rashly against the formation. It was highly likely connected to that Great Emperor.
The Saint Ancestor retreated and returned to the Upper Realm.
The oppressive atmosphere over the Yuan Magnetic Heaven finally eased.
The cultivators of the Upper Realm were stunned. Even the Saint Ancestor refused to break the array?
Whatever terror lurked within must be something even he feared…
Thus, the killing formation in the Yuan Magnetic Heaven endured, awaiting its natural dissipation.
…
On the Five Phoenixes Continent.
Lu had worried the Upper Realm’s saintly clans might forcibly shatter the array, but the Saint Ancestor had been scared off outright.
He chuckled, then put the matter out of his mind.
Nanjiang City lay in the south, where misty rains were common.
After taking over the shop, Lu did not open for business immediately. He lived leisurely, brewing tea outside each day and watching the ever-changing weather along the long street.
At first, his aura remained ethereal. Though he had concealed his cultivation and appeared mortal, the bearing forged by years at the apex could not be fully erased.
The neighbors in the alley kept their distance, assuming he was some young master from a great household.
Several months passed like this. He bought chess sets from merchants, set out a few tables, and tidied the shop. Thus, an unremarkable chess hall opened its doors.
Mortal years flowed like clear mountain spring water—plain and mild, yet carrying a subtle sweetness that seeped into the heart.
Few customers visited Lu’s chess hall; one could say almost none came.
He was in no hurry. Little by little, he shed the last traces of his former presence, fully transforming into an ordinary man.
At first the neighbors had sensed something aloof about him, like the son of a general from the capital or even a noble prince.
But as time passed, they realized Master Lu was cold in manner yet no different from them.
Occasionally neighbors would drop by to chat and crack melon seeds.
Lu never turned them away; he smiled and conversed warmly.
Time slipped by, and Lu seemed to forget he had ever been a cultivator, gradually melting into mortal life.
Business at the chess hall remained poor. Mostly a handful of terrible local players gathered to challenge one another, occasionally turning red-faced and nearly coming to blows over a single move.
Lu simply basked in the warm sun at the doorstep, sipping hot tea.
From time to time, shopkeepers from nearby stores would chat with him and, seeing how empty his hall was, offer a few business tips.
Lu would listen, smile, and say nothing.
After growing familiar, the alley children began clustering around him.
Unknowingly, every trace of ethereal aura had vanished from Lu; he had become truly ordinary, and even children dared approach.
Children are naturally curious. They pestered him to teach them chess.
Lu did not refuse. Teaching them brought him quiet joy.
Stolen novel; please report.
Time flew.
The alley children grew up, scattered by the demands of livelihood, and rarely returned to play.
Those who did come carried the weary exhaustion of life.
They sought Lu only to talk; chess had become a luxury for refined folk.
“I really envy Uncle Lu. More than ten years and he hasn’t aged a day. We’ll all be old while he stays the same,” one of the grown children joked.
The casual remark made Lu pause, lost in thought.
After that, he began controlling his appearance, aging naturally like any mortal.
In the alley, former children married and had families of their own; elders reached the end of their spans and passed away.
Lu sat before his chess hall, watching birth, aging, illness, and death unfold like an endless cycle.
Yet no matter what, the chess hall remained open.
Rain or shine.
As the years accumulated, regular customers gradually increased.
Nanjiang was, after all, the greatest city in the south. Many scholars studied the Way of Chess deeply, and because the legendary Lord of White Jade Capital was said to love the game, a strong chess culture had flourished across the Great Xuan Divine Dynasty, producing numerous national masters.
Occasionally, Lu’s hall would even fill to capacity.
He spent his days sipping tea and gained a new pastime: watching customers play and listening to their idle talk.
Of course, he sometimes played against them himself.
To this day, Lu had never lost a single game.
Word spread.
The reputation of Lu’s chess hall grew.
Mortal years rush by like fleeting water, never to return.
Deep into the night.
Dim candlelight flickered inside the hall.
Lu sat in his wooden wheelchair, now showing clear signs of age—beard hanging from his chin, wrinkles gathering on his face.
Across from him, a young chess enthusiast racked his brain for the next move.
A large crowd of chess lovers surrounded them, holding their breath in silence.
“Sigh… I am in awe of Boss Lu’s skill,” the young player finally said with a wry smile, returning the piece in his fingers to the bowl.
Lu stroked his beard.
“A narrow victory by one piece.”
“Closing time, closing time… It’s late. Everyone head home,” Lu announced.
The onlookers bid him goodnight, still debating the game as they left.
Lu lifted his candle and looked curiously at the young player who remained.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“It’s late. If you want another game, come back tomorrow.”
To his surprise, the young man dropped to his knees before him.
“Boss Lu, please take me as your disciple! I wish to study chess under you!”
Lu laughed softly and stroked his beard again. “My skill is hardly worthy of elegant halls—just a rustic villager’s play. If you want to learn, seek out a true national master.”
The young man shook his head, eyes burning. “Boss Lu’s skill is unfathomably profound. No matter how I play, the time between your moves is always perfectly even… And in the eight games we’ve played, you have won every single one by exactly one piece.”
“The gap between us is vast.”
Lu raised an eyebrow, surprised the young man had noticed.
“Pure coincidence,” he said, waving it off, then firmly sent him away.
The young player stared at the closed door, gritted his teeth, and left unsatisfied.
Back at his inn, he reviewed that day’s game and pulled out records of the previous seven.
“I’m not mistaken… Boss Lu must be one of the supreme national masters in hiding!”
The next day, he left Nanjiang and headed north to the imperial capital.
Though Nanjiang had a decent chess scene, it paled beside the capital.
Most national masters of the Great Xuan gathered there.
Carrying the eight game records as his calling card, he sought apprenticeship—after several rejections, he finally succeeded under one of the masters.
The master’s discerning eye immediately recognized the extraordinary nature of those games.
Half a year passed in a blink.
Nanjiang City suddenly buzzed with unprecedented excitement.
One of the eight national masters of the Great Xuan, Master Lancang, had arrived. Countless chess enthusiasts flocked to the city.
Even the city lord took notice.
Master Lancang first visited the Tang Mansion to pay respects to the legendary Elder Tang, then—under countless watchful eyes—walked into an alley and stopped before a shabby little chess hall.
“This is the place?”
Master Lancang asked the figure beside him, hands clasped behind his back.
That figure was the same young player, now far more composed.
He bowed, expression complex. “Teacher, yes. The player behind those eight games lives in seclusion here.”
“Your skill was weak back then, yet among the younger generation you stood near the top. To beat you by exactly one piece every time—if not coincidence, this person’s chess must be at national-master level.”
“I’m rather curious about the other seven masters now,” Master Lancang said with a laugh.
Eyes gleaming, he stepped inside.
The hall erupted in astonished murmurs. Customers rose to their feet—Master Lancang!
Who did not know his name?
Lu stroked his beard. The butcher from the next street, his current opponent, shot up, face flushed with excitement.
“It’s Master Lancang!”
The young player approached Lu and bowed solemnly.
“Boss Lu, I’ve returned.”
Lu regarded him coolly. “What, here to trash my place?”
“Please don’t be upset,” Master Lancang interjected with a warm, spring-breeze smile. “Allow this old man to finish this game for your friend.”
He inquired politely with the butcher, who of course had no objection.
Lu raised an eyebrow. “Be my guest.”
Master Lancang’s gaze sharpened. He sensed a suppressed aura emanating from Lu.
The young disciple pulled out a chair for his teacher.
Master Lancang studied the board, rolled up his sleeves, and picked up a piece.
Clack!
The piece struck the board like thunder.
Onlookers gathered, drawn by the sound.
Lu smiled unhurriedly, placing his own piece.
Back and forth they went, moves swift and decisive.
To the crowd’s shock, fine beads of sweat soon appeared on Master Lancang’s forehead.
The young disciple’s lips trembled.
He stared at Lu in disbelief. Who was this Boss Lu? Even a national master couldn’t beat him?
“I lost,” Master Lancang admitted, eyes shining brightly. “Boss Lu, shall we play another?”
He had taken over a disastrous opening from the butcher, which partly explained the defeat.
Lu glanced at the darkening sky.
“Very well. One more.”
The board was cleared.
As word spread, more and more chess lovers hurried over.
No one had imagined that a tiny alley in Nanjiang hid such a formidable player—one who could face a national master and even prevail.
By twilight, an eerie hush fell over the hall.
Lu rose, stroked his beard, and smiled.
“No need to continue. Your skill is excellent and still has much room to grow. Keep working hard.”
He shooed everyone out.
The crowd knew Boss Lu’s prickly temper; linger too long and he’d start cursing.
So they dispersed.
The young disciple supported the dazed Master Lancang out of the hall.
The master seemed lost in a trance, as though on the verge of enlightenment.
From that day on, Master Lancang settled in Nanjiang City.
News of his games against Boss Lu spread rapidly.
At the Tang Mansion.
Tang Xiansheng lounged in his rocking chair, examining a game record brought by a servant.
He had been curious about the sensational records making waves.
Hm?
One glance was enough.
Even his pretended frailty vanished; he sat bolt upright.
“This game…”
Tang Xiansheng narrowed his eyes, uncertainty flickering deep within.
“Is the owner of that chess hall a dashing young gentleman, refined as jade, graceful as an immortal in exile?” he asked.
The servant looked baffled.
“Old Master, the hall’s owner is quite elderly… hardly a dashing young gentleman.”
Tang Xiansheng squinted. Perhaps he had guessed wrong.
In the days that followed, Nanjiang grew ever livelier.
Word of Master Lancang’s defeat flew beyond the city on winged rumor.
The other national masters in the imperial capital were stunned.
…
At the Qiannv Palace.
A game record drifted into the palace.
Palace Mistress and Empress Ni Chunqiu loved chess—this was no secret.
Naturally, the record of Master Lancang’s loss reached her.
Ni Chunqiu had grown rather lazy over the years, yet her own chess skill had reached national-master level.
But after studying this record, her red lips parted and her eyes blazed with sudden light.
Faintly, an overwhelming familiar presence emanated from the board.
That suffocating aura.
“Could it be Brother Lu?”
Ni Chunqiu pressed her lips together, clutching the record, gaze distant.
…
Years flashed by—more than a dozen springs and autumns.
Lu grew ever more aged. He no longer drew on heaven-and-earth spiritual energy to sustain his body; like any mortal, his flesh withered under time’s relentless hand.
Old age brought many thoughts.
He often stared into space, sipping tea from his now-ordinary wooden wheelchair, watching clouds gather and disperse.
Master Lancang visited again—an aged Master Lancang who had chosen to remain in Nanjiang, frequenting Lu’s hall.
The locals had long grown accustomed.
Games between Lu and Master Lancang ceased to be publicized; the worldly clamor gradually quieted.
“Boss Lu’s skill is immeasurably profound. This old man is in awe,” Master Lancang said respectfully, gathering the pieces before leaving.
Lu glanced at his retreating back and smiled.
He lifted his purple-clay teapot and took a slow sip.
After Master Lancang departed, he soon entered a small courtyard.
Peach trees filled the yard. Though it was winter, peach blossoms bloomed brilliantly.
A curtain hung low, swaying in the breeze.
Behind it, a graceful silhouette was faintly visible.
Gentle zither music drifted through the air.
“Master Lancang, how has Boss Lu been lately?”
Master Lancang looked toward the figure behind the curtain with reverence, not daring the slightest impropriety or blasphemy.
After all, the person behind that veil… was a terrifying celestial being of the cultivation world.
A celestial—one who could open the Heavenly Gate and ascend to the immortal realm.
Yet this celestial had chosen not to ascend, remaining the pinnacle of mortal-world cultivation.
“Boss Lu’s health has declined, but his chess has grown even more profound,” Master Lancang replied.
He sighed with deep emotion. Over the years his own skill had advanced tremendously—he could now dominate the other seven national masters.
Yet the more refined his chess became, the more unfathomable Boss Lu’s appeared.
“Declined?”
A pleasant voice came from behind the curtain, tinged with urgency.
Master Lancang nodded.
After reviewing the game and leaving the record, he departed the courtyard.
The curtain lifted. Ni Chunqiu revealed her face, gazing at the board while twirling a peach blossom.
“Though I don’t know what Brother Lu is doing…”
“I absolutely must not disturb him.”
She pressed her lips together, sat sideways in her chair, studied the board as petals danced around her, and suddenly smiled.
Elsewhere, Tang Xiansheng also examined the records and sighed deeply.
“Could this truly be Young Master Lu?”
…
Spring turned to summer.
Years sped past like a shuttle.
In the Yuan Magnetic Heaven.
The terrifying killing formation still hovered, blood churning within.
Five years had passed since its activation. Upper Realm observers had watched every change, reporting all back.
In five years, faint signs of weakening appeared.
Another five, and the lingering malice might finally vanish.
Back in Nanjiang City on the Five Phoenixes Continent.
Lu grew ever older.
Many familiar old faces in the alley had passed away, returning to the earth.
The children of old were now middle-aged, occasionally stopping by to chat.
Lu’s chess hall remained open, though familiar faces grew fewer.
Things remained; people changed.
A spark gradually returned to Lu’s eyes.
He had once considered leaving Nanjiang to tour the hundreds of cities of the Great Xuan.
But he abandoned the thought. How many mortals ever traveled the entire continent?
Most settled in one place, lived through joy and sorrow, aging and illness, and finally became a handful of yellow soil.
Something dawned on Lu. He began setting up a chess endgame.
His withered hand slowly lifted pieces and placed them on the board.
The game progressed agonizingly slowly—sometimes one move a day, sometimes one every ten days or half a month.
When Master Lancang came to play and saw the endgame, his mind reeled; he even coughed up blood.
What kind of game was this? Recalling the mysterious celestial’s concern for Lu, he dared not speak.
Lu paid him no mind and continued placing pieces as always.
By now, the unfinished endgame had become the hall’s trademark. Many studied it, yet few found any clue.
Decade after decade passed.
Lu grew so frail he could barely push his wheelchair.
He had lived a solitary life. The now-aging former alley children planned to find him a companion.
Lu laughed softly and shook his head.
Fewer and fewer people visited the hall, yet his endgame remained unfinished.
Master Lancang was no ordinary mortal; he had once cultivated, so though slightly aged, he remained vigorous.
“Old Lu…”
Master Lancang gazed at Lu—now so frail he seemed on the verge of death—and faltered.
The hall was silent.
Lu ignored him, eyes fixed on the decades-long endgame.
A chill settled over him.
It was the cold of a withering soul, like darkness swallowing the twilight.
Or the shadow of a sundial reaching its final mark.
Emaciated, Lu tremblingly raised a hand, slowly drawing a piece from the bowl. Age had made even this motion painfully deliberate.
“Birth, aging, illness, and death for mortals; the cry of newborns—this is life…”
“In the vast river of time, is it not the same?”
“Even the ancient emperors, before that endless river, are ultimately no different from common folk—able only to gaze upon the passing years…”
Lu spoke softly.
His aged voice drifted through the hall.
Though mortal, Master Lancang felt an overwhelming oppression.
Ding-ling…
Lu seemed to hear wind chimes.
He smiled.
And continued lifting the piece.
Outside, heavy snow fell, white flakes dancing in the air.
In the alley outside the chess hall.
At some point, a woman in an elegant red dress appeared beneath an oil-paper umbrella. Bells hung at her waist; her red lips burned like flame.
Tang Xiansheng arrived too, leaning against the alley wall, lost in thought.
He watched the falling snow and smiled.
Young Master Lu… was experiencing a full mortal lifetime, wasn’t he?
Faintly, he felt a spark of insight.
Gradually.
He sensed the decaying figure inside the hall—its aura steadily fading.
Like a lamp burning its last drops of oil.
Suddenly.
Both Empress Ni Chunqiu and Tang Xiansheng tensed.
The world fell deathly silent.
Then… the aged aura within the hall vanished completely.
Like a flame that had burned out, unable to shine again.
Clack.
The sound of a powerless hand dropping, the piece it held falling onto the board.
In that instant.
Ni Chunqiu and Tang Xiansheng felt heaven and earth spin. Even the celestial Ni Chunqiu collapsed, strength leaving her body.
Brilliant radiance burst from the endgame in the hall. Piece after piece soared into the sky, forming a world-shaking chess formation that instantly enveloped thousands of miles.
Time… seemed to flow backward!
A terrifying presence spread; heaven and earth threatened to collapse in an instant.
He had returned.
The century among mortals had finally ended.
