Chapter Forty-Five: A Single Stick of Incense Connects the Realms, Curling Smoke Welcomes the Guests!

According to the ancient incense manual, there are three grades of incense for cultivation.

The highest grade is called celestial incense, also known as Dao incense. As the name suggests, it is crafted from the most profound spiritual materials, namely spiritual roots that possess Dao seeds. Blended with treasures of heaven and earth and the essences of the five elements, and refined with the fire from the earth’s heart, only then can such incense be produced. This incense is the ultimate treasure longed for by all cultivators. It is said that when ancient cultivators formed their Profound Cores, if they could light a stick of Dao incense, it would protect their minds, fend off all inner and outer demons, and guarantee their pill’s perfection and superior quality.

The second grade is spiritual incense. Its materials are mostly derived from spiritual herbs, and at times require parts from spiritual beasts. For example, in Dream Soul Spiritual Incense, the primary ingredient is the horn of the Moon-Gazing Rhinoceros; when burned, it grants profound insights, allowing one to break through barriers and comprehend the Dao within dreams.

The third grade is mortal incense. It is made from century-old treasured herbs or the blood and bones of rare beasts, essentially a diluted version of spiritual incense. Mortal incense was not originally included among the three grades; it was added by the author of this manual. Yet now, as spiritual essence dwindles from the world, even this third grade of mortal spiritual incense has become fiercely coveted among cultivators.

The Guest-Welcoming Incense crafted by Lin You, whether of spiritual or mortal grade, used similar auxiliary herbs. The primary ingredient, however, was key. For this incense, the main component was none other than the needle of a spirit pine. This was why Lin You was confident in his craft, for the Pine Ancestor at his side was a genuine spirit pine.

He picked up a crimson jade pine needle, carefully roasted and dried it in the medicine furnace, then placed it into a stone mortar to grind it finely. Soon, a small pile of vermilion, jade-like granules appeared in the mortar. After several more steps, these jade fragments transformed into a cinnabar-red, paste-like jade mud. The mud glowed with a blood-red hue, exuding a faint pine fragrance and a subtle trace of spiritual energy flowing within.

Seeing that the main ingredient was ready, Lin You set the jade mud aside and went to the medicine furnace. Testing the heat, he found it just right. He then added several prepared herbs, following the prescribed method, to the alchemical cauldron. These spiritual herbs were harvested beside a spiritual spring, their potency three times stronger than ordinary aged herbs—perfect for blending spiritual incense.

Within the furnace, the alchemical flames danced. Under the harmonizing power of true energy, the herbs rapidly melted into pure medicinal essence. Lin You extracted the emerald medicine liquid, mixed it with the pine needle jade mud, and shaped ten slender, dark purple incense sticks.

He placed the spiritual incense into a jade box, quietly waiting for the medicinal powers to complete their final fusion.

Looking up at the sky, he saw the setting sun melting into gold. The last rays of evening lit the sea of clouds before him, resembling a splendid golden lake. Now, all that remained was to wait for nightfall.

…

Jinhua Prefecture City.

Night had deepened, with half an hour remaining before the city’s curfew. The number of pedestrians on the streets had already dwindled.

“Boy! Bring out your best wine and dishes for several tables! And prepare some upper rooms!”

Just as the inn’s attendant was dozing off at the door, a loud shout startled him awake. He looked up and was instantly wide-eyed.

A group of disheveled, ragged beggars, limping and supporting each other, were approaching the inn.

At their head was an old crone, her hair a tangled mass of white, her patched clothes stamped with the prints of several shoes—looking utterly bizarre and comical.

Yet despite her sorry state, the old woman carried herself with an air of superiority. Seeing the attendant frozen, she cursed, “Are you deaf? Hurry up and get things ready!”

Startled by her scolding, the attendant scrambled into the inn, shouting, “Innkeeper! Trouble! Beggars are here to cause a scene!”

At the entrance, the old crone was nearly apoplectic with rage. As an Elder of the Hundred Flowers Sect and a master physician, she was used to reverence wherever she went. Now, humbling herself to stay at an inn, she was mistaken for a beggar?

Her true energy surged, and she almost tore the inn apart then and there. Fortunately, an elder from the Medicine Sect quickly held her back, whispering, “Don’t cause a scene! If someone recognizes us, we’re finished! Let’s hurry in, bathe, and change clothes—that’s the priority!”

Everyone agreed at once. Even the old woman, after a moment’s hesitation, decided to swallow her anger. If she were recognized in this state, her reputation among the grandmasters of Jinzhou would be ruined for good!

But fate is rarely kind. The attendant’s shout had already alerted the entire inn, including two grandmasters attending the medical gathering in town.

Curious, they joined the others at the door, watching the ragged group with interest. The more they looked, the more familiar these people seemed.

At last, one exclaimed, “Granny Hua? Old Ghost Yao? And Old Ghost Xing from Hundred Herbs Hall? How did you three end up like this?”

The three froze at the words, feet hanging in mid-step at the threshold. Their worst fear had come true!

“Hey! Isn’t that Sister Ling? What is that smell on you?” A young man nearby, pinching his nose, recognized Bai Ling among the group.

Standing amid the crowd, Bai Ling felt the stares like burning whips across her face. Her distress triggered her internal injuries, and she fainted on the spot.

As more and more people gathered at the entrance—many acquainted with disciples from the three sects—whispers and gossip spread like wildfire.

The two grandmasters, perhaps out of mischief or genuine concern, pressed, “Weren’t the three sects supposed to visit Red Pine Daoist Palace? Why are you staying at an inn here?”

“Shut your mouths!” the old woman snarled, scooping up the unconscious Bai Ling and hastily withdrawing, unwilling to remain a moment longer. The rest of the sect members quickly covered their faces and hurried away, eager to avoid being recognized.

In the crowd, a scruffy old Daoist with a large red gourd at his waist paused when he heard mention of Red Pine Daoist Palace. Recently, he’d received a message from Jiang Liunian—the gathering that night was to be held at Red Pine Daoist Palace. Seeing this group’s connection to the place, he thought to ask them for directions.

With that, he followed them out of the city.

“Fellow Daoists, please wait!” a voice called out beyond the city gate.

The old woman and her companions halted, turning back with irritation at the sight of the unkempt Daoist. They now loathed Daoists above all and asked coldly, “Who are you?”

The old Daoist bowed and said with a smile, “I am Linghuzi. Forgive my intrusion, but may I ask if you know the way to Red Pine Daoist Palace?”

The old woman eyed him up and down. Seeing his slovenly appearance and no trace of cultivated true energy, she judged he was no martial grandmaster. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Of course I know. But may I ask, what business do you have at Red Pine Daoist Palace?”

Linghuzi chuckled, bowing, “I am going to visit a friend.”

Her face darkened. “Why don’t you go visit your friend in the Underworld instead!”

With that, she gathered her true energy and struck at the old Daoist. Already furious over the Red Pine Daoist Palace, she saw the scruffy Daoist as an easy target.

“Crazy hag! I was only asking for directions!” Linghuzi cursed as he dodged, agile as an old ape among mountains. Seeing that she wouldn’t relent, he reluctantly unfastened the gourd at his waist, uncorked it, and aimed it at the group.

“Not good! He’s an Adept!” The other two grandmasters cried out, rushing to intervene, but it was too late. A thick yellow mist burst from the gourd, enveloping them all.

As bodies thudded to the ground, only the pale-faced old Daoist remained standing.

“Bad luck!” Linghuzi cursed under his breath. Controlling so many at once, including three grandmasters, had nearly drained him of his essence. Now, weak to the core, he could barely stand.

As the old woman collapsed, a white jade wine cup rolled from her tattered robe to the Daoist’s feet. He picked it up, but seeing the three grandmasters beginning to stir, he dared not linger. He stuffed the cup into his robe and, summoning his last strength, fled the scene.

…

Walking among the mountains, Linghuzi was filled with resignation. His essence was severely depleted; he’d hoped to trade for spiritual herbs at the gathering to save his life. Who’d have thought that merely asking directions would force him to use another Daoist art, worsening his condition?

Just as he was fretting, a strange fragrance wafted to his nose. His eyes widened as he saw a wisp of ethereal incense mist drifting from the horizon, coiling around him without dispersing. The scent penetrated his mind, filling him with sudden clarity.

In a vision, he saw a young Daoist beneath a pine tree, lighting incense to welcome guests at the edge of a sea of clouds atop a high mountain.

Linghuzi’s spirit soared.

This was Guest-Welcoming Spiritual Incense! The fellow Daoist was inviting him to a gathering of minds!