Chapter Thirty-Two: Azure Nether Mountain!

The unique crescent-moon design of the Black Snake magical armament allows it to transform into a wheel, a sword, or a bow. When paired with the black ink-silk cord crafted from the Wondrous Immortal Vine, it becomes a formidable divine bow; once an arrow is loosed, it sweeps aside all resistance. Yang Nan forged the black ink-silk cord into a bowstring and attached it to the weapon, keeping it ready for any contingency.

With this, the armament was fully formed, possessing the aura of a sacred-grade treasure. Yang Nan withdrew his hand, inwardly marveling at his own good fortune. Only half of the divine iron had been enough to elevate his King-tier high-grade weapon to a sacred rank. If he were to refine the remaining half, he might even reach the intermediate stage of the sacred rank. Such a weapon was considered top-tier among the world’s experts, and it would greatly increase his odds of victory in battle, proving to be an immense benefit.

While staying at the Wenyang Mansion, Yang Nan lived in harmony with his father-in-law’s family. Before long, his four servants, the Yang Brothers, reported that the three Grandmasters of Qingming Mountain had invited Yang Nan to visit the mountain. Yang Nan pondered for a long time; having returned this time, he did not know how long it would be before he could come back again, and it was time to settle the family affairs.

It seemed the time had come to head to Qingming Mountain. That day, Yang Nan sought out his wife and said softly, "Qingyan, you have not been home for years. Why not wait for me at home? Once I have dealt with the matters at Qingming Mountain, I will come to find you."

Fang Qingyan shook her head and smiled. "My husband is a descendant of the Yang family, and I am a daughter-in-law of the Yang clan. A husband and wife should stay together. Even if I have not yet borne a son or daughter to carry on the Yang family line, I must at least go to pay my respects at the ancestral hall."

Seeing her preoccupation with childbearing, Yang Nan sighed inwardly: 'Though Qingyan possesses an immortal bone, she lacks the heart for the Dao. Perhaps she is destined to never reach the path of immortality in this life...'

Fang Qingyan, sensing her husband’s knitted brows and deep contemplation, was too clever not to know his thoughts. She immediately extended a slender palm and said gently, "Husband, if I can stay by your side, I will have no regrets even if it is only for a few decades. The path to immortality is long and arduous; how many in this world can truly become immortals? If I practice the Dao, accompanying you for a few hundred years will be enough. I dare not harbor such extravagant hopes for this life. You possess great talent, so you should not worry on my account."

Yang Nan was moved. His young wife truly held deep affection for him. Since this trial of love was unavoidable, he could only embrace it. "Very well," Yang Nan said softly. "Since you wish to accompany me back, we shall go together. However, I may stay on the mountain for some time; you should return to Wenyang Mansion to spend time with your parents first. Once we part, who knows when we shall meet again?"

Fang Qingyan whispered, "Follow the cock if you marry the cock, follow the dog if you marry the dog. To be married to you is to find paradise even in a quagmire. You need not worry for me, husband."

Yang Nan sighed softly, reached out, and held her tender form in a light embrace. A wave of tenderness surged in his heart as he murmured, "To have Qingyan by my side in this life, Yang Nan has no regrets!"

Feeling her husband’s approval, Fang Qingyan leaned into his embrace, her heart filled with sweetness.

A day later, Yang Nan set off for Qingming Mountain with the four Yang servants and the siblings Fang Qingyan and Fang Xuan.

Qingming Mountain was named after a line written in the childhood of the great Confucian Grandmaster Yang Pu: "Stepping on the wind to soar, raising my ambition to the nine heavens of the azure void." In his youth, Yang Pu lived in poverty, studying tirelessly in the mountains. Using tree branches as pens and the sand as paper, he was a natural prodigy who mastered vast libraries of books without a teacher. At the tender age of ten, he uttered this bold declaration that shocked the world.

After a century of development, Qingming Mountain was no longer the wilderness it once was. Traces of Yang Pu could be found everywhere: the Pen-Washing Pool, the Book-Drying Terrace, the Hall of Essays, and the Sages’ Steps were among the many landmarks built over the years. This place was not only the ancestral home of the Yang family but also the most prestigious center of literature in the world. While the world was currently in chaos, the Southern Continent remained a place where poetry and prose were celebrated, a thriving, prosperous land.

Qingming Mountain was located three hundred miles outside of Wenyang Mansion, composed of three exquisite, magnificent peaks standing side by side. The mountain was filled with a literary aura that surged toward the heavens, having produced countless great scholars and Confucian Grandmasters throughout the dynasties.

At the time, the Yang family was merely an ordinary household on Qingming Mountain. Because of the Old Duke’s service to three successive emperors—loyal, devoted, and self-sacrificing—the Emperor bestowed this magnificent mountain upon the Yang family as their ancestral seat, to be inherited through the generations. Even if the family were to decline, the decree would not change: "As long as the dynasty stands, the green mountains shall remain." This was the iron-bound decree written in the Emperor’s own hand, honoring the unparalleled contributions of Yang Pu, a veteran official of three reigns and a master of statecraft.

"Everything on this mountain belongs to the scholars of the world. I wish for no one in the world to be ignorant, no one to be unwise, and no one to be unread. By upholding the ancient sages' spirit of teaching without discrimination, my heart shall be at peace."

These were the words Yang Pu had replied to the Emperor when he received the reward.

Though the mountain was private property of the Yang family, the descendants upheld the family motto and never sought to keep it for themselves. Instead, they established several grand academies, opening the entire Qingming Mountain to the world. All scholars with the ambition to learn could study there for free, and the rare treasures produced by the mountain were all contributed to the needs of the academies. This move caused a sensation throughout the land. With such a divine location, free education, and the reputation of orthodox Confucianism, scholars from all over the world flocked there, and Qingming Mountain became a holy site of Confucianism.

After a hundred years, Qingming Mountain had become the seat of the Heart Sect, one of the orthodox lineages of Confucianism. Its influence reached far and wide, and every official and scholar in the world took pride in hailing from Qingming.

Although Yang Nan was the nominal Head of the Mountain, he was not widely known. The mountain was managed by several great scholars who took turns overseeing the academies. Even the four Yang servants only managed the affairs of the branch families and did not interfere with the internal affairs of the academies. In the incomparably beautiful Qingming Mountains, the foothills and the middle slopes were where the Yang family village and the common people lived, while the grand, majestic peaks were entirely surrendered to the students who came to seek knowledge.

The reverence for scholars reached its zenith in the Southern Continent.

The Huayang Academy on the mountain was named with the intention that it would "never die, never fall, and never decay for a thousand years," symbolizing the eternal inheritance of the Confucian school.

Yang Nan had heard many stories about the Huayang Academy on Qingming Mountain from his grandfather in his youth. Although he had never been there, the place did not feel unfamiliar. He rode a small donkey along the wide, flat mountain road, followed by Fang Qingyan and her brother, and the four Yang servants. The other demons, including Old Crab, had scattered throughout the ten prefectures of the Southern Continent. Only Chiyang remained with him in the Jiangshan Ring; entering a place of Confucianism, it was best not to bring a horde of demons and monsters along.

The small donkey Yang Nan rode was also no ordinary beast; it was a natural mutation born in the Spirit Beast Mountains, known as a "Danqing Donkey." Its entire body was a cyan color, like ink on a painting, its fur sleek and shiny. It was highly intelligent and possessed a spiritual nature, able to walk freely through the air—truly a wondrous creature. As Yang Nan rode it, he felt as carefree as the immortal Zhang Guolao riding his donkey backward.

"Brother-in-law, why does this Qingming Mountain range of several hundred miles only have three main peaks?" Facing the three peaks standing tall, which looked like great sages and scholars standing in solemn formation to welcome them, a scholarly aura rushed toward them.

Fang Xuan dismounted before the mountain gate, looking at the three peaks with their distinct auras, and asked curiously. Qingming Mountain was a holy land in the hearts of Confucian scholars, no less significant than the Kunlun or Minghe sects were to cultivators. Fang Xuan stood with his sister but turned to ask his brother-in-law.

Mentioning this, Yang Nan recalled what his grandfather had told him. He smiled faintly: "The Xiu Peak represents literary grace—beautiful, wise, and elegant, with talent on display. The Wen Peak represents righteousness—solemn, upright, and possessing a unified momentum. The Jin Peak represents wisdom—a touch of the spirit, the finishing touch. The three peaks are connected, their literary auras gathered and blended to create this natural, spiritual landscape. Studying in this mountain can open one’s wisdom and increase one’s learning. Only in this quiet world can one truly discern the vanity of the mundane world. It is truly a blessed land for Confucian scholars."

Although he had never been to the ancestral home of Qingming, he had heard his grandfather speak of the magic of the three peaks. However, while the land was auspicious, everything depended on the person; without diligent study, even a dragon vein would be in vain.

The spiritual energy of these three peaks was not naturally this abundant. Since the emergence of the peerless genius Yang Pu, the spiritual mountain nurtured the people, and the people, in turn, nurtured the mountain. Only by continuously producing great scholars and sages could this blessed land maintain its flowing spiritual energy and lasting fame.

Before the massive mountain gate of Qingming Mountain stood a gigantic stone archway, carved with dragons and phoenixes, spectacular and magnificent. On the sides were inscribed: "As long as the dynasty stands, the green mountains shall remain!"

In the center was inscribed: "Blessed Land of the Confucian School."

This calligraphy was the work of the late Emperor. Seeing the archway honoring his grandfather’s achievements, Yang Nan felt deeply moved. He dismounted to bow before proceeding into Qingming Mountain. Once through the gate, one could see cliff carvings everywhere. The vigorous, ancient, and brilliantly beautiful scripts, like dragons and snakes, snaked across the stone walls and forests. Scholars and great masters of every generation had traveled here, and how could they not leave behind their bold emotions and reflections upon seeing such magnificent mountains and rivers?

Therefore, there were specialized stonemasons in the mountain responsible for carving these outstanding poems onto the stone to serve as mementos.

As Yang Nan walked along, the mountain path was bustling with people, shoulder to shoulder. Most of them wore green robes and caps, the attire of scholars, carrying a natural scholarly air. Yang Nan, dressed as a young nobleman, drew some side-glances, but young noblemen like him coming to study were numerous, so the scholars only took a cursory glance before losing interest.

Yang Nan’s spiritual eyes swept over the scene, seeing over a dozen streams of literary energy surging toward the heavens from the three peaks. This literary energy corresponded to the Confucian Grandmasters, which was no small matter, indicating that there were indeed high-ranking individuals present in the academy. Secular power stopped here; no prince or noble family would dare to act recklessly here, or they would become the enemy of all the scholars and officials of Qingming Mountain.

Cultivators generally avoided this place. Although Confucian Grandmasters did not possess the longevity of the Buddhist or Daoist sects, the mysteries of Confucian arts were no less profound than Daoist or Buddhist techniques. With such soaring literary energy and numerous Grandmasters holding the fort, which cultivator would dare to come and provoke them?

Yang Nan walked slowly among a group of scholars. The four Yang servants rode ahead to inform the great scholars of the academy. Fang Xuan, mixed in with the scholars, listened intently to their discussions on world affairs and Confucian classics, finding it quite fascinating. Having been raised in the mansion by his parents since childhood, he had never heard such high-minded debate. He gradually wandered further away, his eyes gleaming as he mingled with the passionate, hot-blooded scholars, feeling quite at home.

The Huayang Academy did not forbid speech. Whether it was poetry, prose, or theories of statecraft, one could speak freely. The Heart Sect’s atmosphere was open, disregarding rigid rituals and allowing total freedom. It was not surprising if someone were to speak of rebellion on the mountain. The young scholars were full of ambition and passion, their hearts in the world while their bodies were on the mountain. Gathering in small groups to discuss the world, it reminded Yang Nan of the free atmosphere in the colleges of his previous life.

Common people, responding to the world, freedom!

This was the soul of Qingming Mountain!

Though sitting on the mountain observing the world, their hearts were with the common people, and their achievements were for the nation!

Yang Nan had been strictly disciplined by his grandfather since childhood, along with the rigorous instruction of stern teachers. Seeing the relaxed and casual atmosphere of these students, he felt a secret jealousy that they were truly lucky! If he had been this free in his youth, would he have viewed essays as a tiger?

The days of endless practice of music, chess, calligraphy, painting, and the grinding of ink seemed to be just yesterday! It was far more terrifying than cultivating the Dao!

When Yang Nan reached the foot of the Main Peak, several elders leading a few middle-aged scholars were standing in front of the academy gate, looking on with smiles. Behind them, dozens of the academy’s Grandmasters had actually come out to welcome Yang Nan, this "unvirtuous" Head of the Mountain!

Yang Nan jumped off his donkey, cupped his hands, and laughed: "Yang Nan greets all the Grandmasters! It has been ten years since I returned; I am guilty, truly guilty!"

The leading elder with a long beard extended his hand toward Yang Nan and laughed heartily: "What a Yang Nan! You actually abandoned this academy for ten years, leaving us to do the grunt work. This won't do; you must pay us for our labor!" The elder’s demeanor was elegant and composed, and even in his joking, he possessed the style of a Grandmaster. He looked more like a playful old man than a stern scholar.