Chapter 5

As the twilight haze rose, the sky turned a deep, hazy blue, and a full moon hung in the sky, casting its clear light far and wide. A red light slowly moved in the southern foothills.

Ye Qing, carrying a basket of books, clung to the mountain rocks and green pines, stopping and resting as he made his way along the mountain path.

The night was very cold, and even with the moonlight and the light from his torch, the mountain path was rugged and difficult to navigate, full of potholes and uneven terrain.

The first thirty miles of the journey were mostly flat, but the next five miles of mountain road were particularly treacherous.

By the time he climbed to a high rock, the moon was high in the sky. He was drenched in sweat and had to stop to rest.

Ye Qing took a sip of water and glanced back in the direction of the Ye family estate.

In the night, the lights below the mountain were faintly visible, one of which was particularly prominent. This was likely the Louwailou, the center of power for the Ye family!

Recalling the afternoon, the arrogant face of the wicked servant, and the worries of Qianqian, which had turned into reality, Ye Qing felt a cold smile in his heart. In his previous life, he had followed the will of Ye Zifan and reincarnated from Earth, thus avoiding the humiliation he now faced.

The three Dao Jun were in harmony with the great Dao of this world, standing high above. The Dao was the law, and it did not need a chaotic world, or at least not for this world.

All things were orderly and in constant motion, allowing those at the peak of the world to have room for further advancement. When the three Dao Jun first appeared, there was an era of three kingdoms vying for power, each with its own Dao lineage, each leading a great religion, and each competing for fortune. This not only caused great suffering to the living beings on the earth but also damaged the great Dao.

Under the backlash of the great Dao, the Green Emperor and the Yellow Emperor, the two strongest of the Five Emperors, emerged.

The three Dao Jun, being wise, assessed the situation and immediately ceased their conflict, uniting to establish order. As these measures were implemented, the great Dao gradually stabilized, and the Green Emperor and the Yellow Emperor, who had emerged in response to the situation, could no longer rise and had to be incorporated into the Heavenly Court system.

Over the next million years, the Five Emperors gradually became complete. Of course, this knowledge was known only to the highest levels of the dynasty, and the common people were completely unaware. Only when a great calamity came and the order was shattered did these secrets begin to spread.

Leaving this aside, with the establishment of the Heavenly Court, the proliferation of life, and the increasing spiritual energy, the order became more deeply ingrained in all aspects of human society. Life and death were part of the cycle, and the number of immortal immortals did not need to be too many, so the selection process for the immortal gates became increasingly strict.

In fact, the child examination not only tested literary talent but also the competition of fate and destiny. Wisdom, fate, and talent were the three main criteria. Unless the writing was so extraordinary that it moved heaven and earth, those with weak fate would be squeezed out!

Families relied on this point, controlling the distribution of fate within the clan, to allocate and exchange resources among their members.

This was not too unfair in normal times, after all, they were all blood relatives, and in each county and prefecture, there were many noble families. A family that could not ensure basic fairness would naturally lose its cohesion and decline within a few generations.

However, Ye Qing was merely asking for a deferment, which was still within the reasonable range of the clan. In normal times, it would be no more than a three-year wait, but with the great calamity approaching, all the old orders were in jeopardy. Was he supposed to use this precious time and opportunity to exchange for uncertain family protection?

Let him think, in which year did the Louwailou burn in the fire?

Ye Qing no longer looked at the pillar of light and continued walking.

...

Before long, Ye Qing saw a flat area where a large tree hung a large bell.

He thought to himself, "As the rumors say, I must be close!"

Holding the torch up, he saw that it was indeed an abandoned mountain temple. Seeing this, Ye Qing couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief!

In this world, where Daoism was prominent, the yang energy was strong, and the yin energy was also heavy. In bustling areas, the yang energy surged, and with the protection of the land and city gods, there were few ghosts and monsters.

However, in desolate areas, ghosts and spirits roamed freely, and no one dared to travel there. Battlefields that had seen a hundred years of conflict were especially dangerous. The Northern Mang Mountain had been a battlefield for centuries, and it was no surprise that it was called the Land of the Dead. Of course, this place was far from the Northern Mang Mountain, only its outskirts.

Even so, traveling at night was a risky move, as could be seen from the worry in Qianqian's eyes before he left.

When Ye Qing arrived, the mountain temple stood at the entrance to a deep valley, with a stone turtle carrying a stele in front of it, the characters carved like swords.

Approaching with the torch, he saw the inscription on the stele: "Ancient Wei Battlefield."

The characters were ancient, clearly from several dynasties ago, corresponding to the history of the previous dynasties he knew.

According to legend, during the Wei dynasty, a loyal general was wrongfully accused and his entire army died here. Over the centuries, this place had become a well-known historical site.

No cold wind blew from the valley, but the calm made Ye Qing hesitant to venture deeper. He only saw a broken sign on the main door, which read "Valley Guardian Temple."

Entering the temple, he saw that the statues were damp and weathered, their original forms unrecognizable. It was unclear which deity they represented, but the incense burner was still intact, though the incense sticks nearby were decayed, indicating that no one had come to worship for years.

Ye Qing looked around; this was as good as a temple without worship. If the deity relied on incense, this desolate scene was almost a sign of its decline. Even if someone passing by saw this, they might not be willing to offer incense.

But Ye Qing still entered, placed the basket on the ground, and selected three usable incense sticks from a pile, lighting them with a flint and placing them in the incense burner.

Even if the deity had fallen, at least this temple was nominally under its jurisdiction, and it was traditional to inform it before staying.

"A student passing by seeks shelter for the night, hoping the deity will not be offended," Ye Qing murmured in his heart, then followed the custom and slowly retreated.

He gathered some dry grass for bedding and found some dry wood in the old kitchen at the back of the temple. Using the dry grass to start a fire, he lit a campfire. The crackling of the burning wood mixed with the howling mountain wind outside, and the moonlight poured in, casting a silver glow. The red light of the campfire illuminated his face.

This solitude made him recall his previous life, and he felt a moment of melancholy.

Offering incense was just a formality. In his previous life, the great calamity brought various opportunities. If his memory served him right, three years later, a poor scholar named Sun Zhijie would pass by this place, see the fallen statue, and feel a kinship. He would offer incense and write a memorial, which would awaken the deity and bring him good fortune, leading him to pass the examination and become a scholar. This story became a local legend.

Now, he was just taking advantage of his foreknowledge.

However, if he succeeded, it would not be difficult to give Sun Zhijie the title of scholar, and he could make amends then.

He chose a well-preserved wall, steadied himself, and began to write.

"A student passing by, deeply moved, respectfully offers this tribute:"

"General, born in the previous dynasty, rose from the common people. When the emperor lost control of the realm, rebels rose up, and the general led campaigns north and south, quelling chaos for fourteen years. Alas, the fate of the world has its limits, and despite his virtue, he met defeat, not through any fault of his own. May the deity's spirit be clear, and may it be honored today. Amen!"

As he wrote, each character seemed to emit a faint white light. It was almost as if a gaze was upon him.

In the underworld, a palace corresponding to this place existed, ancient and solemn, though mostly collapsed but not entirely decayed. Now, a thread of power was flowing in, repairing it.

Deep within the palace, on a cold jade bed, a wisp of incense and a memorial fell.

An unknown entity sensed the change, its golden eyes opening in surprise. "What scholar has written a memorial in my temple?"

But the entire palace was silent, the echo of his voice reverberating through the empty hall.

The entity suddenly remembered that this was not the past; it had long lost its worship and fallen into a deep sleep. Hearing the empty echo, it felt a mix of sorrow and joy, and said no more.

In front of the temple wall, having finished writing, Ye Qing felt a profound sense of emotion. This forgotten shrine made him think of the transient nature of life, a concept that ordinary people often overlooked.

But as a穿越者 (穿越者 means "穿越者" in Chinese, which translates to "time traveler" or "穿越者" in English), he could not deceive himself—unless he completely denied his origins.

He suddenly remembered a famous poem from Earth, hesitated for a moment, and then took up his brush, dipped it in ink, and wrote beside the memorial, murmuring to himself.

"Before me, no ancient men; behind me, no future ones."

This line, from the Tang Dynasty poet Chen Ziang's "Song of Ascending the Youzhou Terrace," expressed the poet's frustration at unfulfilled political ambitions. But in this context, it resonated with the deity's situation and his own identity as a time traveler.

Ye Qing's brush moved swiftly, the characters bold and strong, a unique style he had developed from the Yan style of calligraphy he brought from Earth.

"Thinking of the vast universe, I weep alone."

As he wrote, a profound sadness enveloped him. He paused for a long time before adding to the right side of the text: "Song of Ascending the Ancient Wei Battlefield."

After finishing, Ye Qing looked at the characters and could not help but shed tears...

"Before me, no ancient men; behind me, no future ones."

"Thinking of the vast universe, I weep alone."

Who could better understand this sense of temporal loneliness and sorrow than a time traveler?

Finally, Ye Qing controlled his emotions, turned to the campfire, took out a flatbread to eat, and then slowly lay down, his thin lips tightly pressed together.

The task was done, and regardless of its success, he had plans for the next day. Time was pressing, and he could not afford to waste energy or emotion.

It was not that he was heartless, but that he was self-aware.

Gradually, as Ye Qing fell asleep, the temple grew quiet. The wall, which had only emitted a faint white mist, now began to glow slightly red.

But the twenty-two characters of the poem continuously emitted white mist, as if the poem itself had gained a constant fortune.

Finally, the wall glowed brightly, and streams of white light extended, illuminating the temple with a scholarly aura. As time passed, the light deepened, turning from white to red, then to orange, and finally to pure gold, before gradually slowing down.

The campfire crackled, and a faint light flashed on the statue before fading again.

The moon sank to the west, and the night grew deeper.

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