Chapter 49 : Ascension Town, Figures
Chapter 49: Ascension Town, Figures
The population of Ascension Town was even smaller than expected.
The name of the town carried a certain air of cultivating immortality and seeking the Dao, but once Fang Chang stepped into it, he found that it was merely an ordinary small town.
Its level of prosperity could not compare at all to White Egret City of Yan Country.
Which made sense.
At best, Ascension Town was just a waystation for those seeking the Dao on their journey to Canglan Mountain.
Fang Chang gazed from afar at the continuous mountain range.
The blue-brick houses of the small town seemed to lie beneath them.
The peaks were shrouded in drifting clouds and mist, their spiritual energy so abundant it was almost visible to the naked eye, lofty and untouchable.
He did not quite understand the disciple recruitment process of Canglan Mountain.
After all, in his previous life while playing the game, he had never joined it.
But the fact that they dared to establish four Ascension Towns already hinted at some deeply rooted ideology.
The sun was at its peak, heating the ground until waves of heat rose.
Fang Chang turned into an inn.
Its name matched the town—Ascension Inn.
Although Fang Chang was not tired, he was extremely lazy by nature.
After several days of travel, he needed to lie on a bed for a while to recover. Once fully recharged, he would move on to the next task.
Like Ultraman’s warning light turning red.
Which raised a question—couldn’t Zhao Yuntong or Zhang Su carry him while traveling?
They could.
But Yin Corpses were not truly resurrected beings. Their souls could not control their bodies for extended periods.
They also had “energy lights” on their chests like Ultraman—and each of them had two.
If overused in ordinary situations, they might lack strength during sudden emergencies.
Thus,
for most of the journey, Fang Chang controlled soulless Yin Corpses to carry him on their shoulders or backs.
During that time, they all covered their faces.
No other reason—just dignity.
Zhao Yuntong and Zhang Su needed it, and so did Fang Chang.
He had considered buying a sedan chair.
But it was not as soft, supple, and fragrant as the bodies of the two women.
Inside Ascension Inn,
the shopkeeper was wiping an abacus behind the counter. “Guest, are you eating or staying?”
Fang Chang leaned his elbow on the counter and grabbed a handful of melon seeds placed beside the abacus.
His mouth could never stay idle.
“Still have rooms?”
“Plenty. Guest, you’re here to ascend as well, I assume?”
“Yep.”
The shopkeeper shook his head. “You missed it. The Canglan Immortal Mountain’s once-every-three-years ascension ceremony just passed ten days ago.”
Fang Chang was not concerned. He glanced at the scattered but steady stream of rogue cultivators entering through the town gate.
“They’re not going to wait here for three years, are they?”
“The ascension ceremony is held every three years and widely accepts disciples. But those seeking immortality cannot always wait that long, so the Immortal Mountain has devised another method… though this alternative method is far more difficult than the ceremony…”
The shopkeeper had lived in Ascension Town for a long time and knew some of the details.
As a townsman, he also had the duty to explain things to guests.
“I’d like to hear—”
As Fang Chang spoke, he heard someone in the kitchen shouting, “The pig’s here! Make some space!”
His craving flared up.
“Also bring me two braised pork knuckles—both front left ones. Don’t try to fool me.”
The shopkeeper smiled bitterly. “I wouldn’t dare deceive you, guest. It’s just that new disciples have entered the mountain recently. Unlike Daoist immortals who live on wind and dew, they still need food. These ingredients are to be collected later by the Immortal Mountain disciples…”
Fang Chang placed a gold ingot on the counter.
The shopkeeper beamed and tucked it into his sleeve.
“Please wait in your room, guest. Soon you’ll taste my famous braised front pork knuckle—renowned across Jinzhou!”
“Let’s talk business—this ‘alternative method.’”
“Ah!”
The shopkeeper straightened up.
“Before explaining it, let me first describe the normal ascension path. It’s quite simple—a stretch of three thousand steps made of jade stone, leading straight into the clouds.”
“Each of the three thousand steps carries its own pressure and inner demons, gradually increasing. It tests both perseverance and aptitude.”
“In my youth, I tried both paths. I couldn’t withstand the pressure of the orthodox route, and in the alternative method, I was tormented by the six thief-like inner demons. I stopped in shame at the five-hundredth step both times.”
As he spoke,
he shook his head, reminiscing about the past with a hint of regret.
Fang Chang was not surprised.
This ascension method was rather conventional—many orthodox sects likely used similar approaches.
As for demonic sects—
sorry.
Most demonic and deviant paths lacked systematic inheritance. The moment a sect established a base, it essentially marked itself as a target for suppression by the Twelve Orthodox Paths.
Only in remote, extreme environments beyond reach could such paths barely survive.
“As for this ‘alternative method’…”
“It’s called ‘Waiting for the Heavenly Steps.’”
“This is not a physical staircase to climb or conquer, but one that manifests solely for the challenger through waiting.”
“The longer you wait—or after enduring ten illusionary trials—the more steps will appear. But once you leave, all progress is lost. When you return, you must start over.”
The shopkeeper looked toward the distant Immortal Mountain with admiration.
“For those who cannot wait three years, filled with impatience and ambition, their test is precisely ‘waiting.’ How ironic… the wisdom of the immortals is truly profound!”
Fang Chang curled his lips.
Fancy nonsense.
Another test of temperament.
Now that he had the information, he lost interest in further discussion.
Thinking about the pork knuckles, he followed the attendant to the best room in the inn and lay down to rest.
...
...
“Senior Sister.”
Cheng Hua heard the call, lowered her head, and looked at her junior sister’s delicate, doll-like face.
She simply watched silently without speaking.
Dressed in white, she stood like a frost-touched bamboo. When the wind passed, her sleeves fluttered, accentuating her slender waist. Her long skirt concealed her jade-like legs completely.
Her entire presence was cold and untouched by dust—yet undeniably beautiful.
Her junior sister was young and already used to her demeanor.
She glanced around Ascension Town.
She felt a bit nostalgic for the worldly sights she had not seen for days.
“Senior Sister, why did we come down the mountain?”
Cheng Hua replied expressionlessly, “To get some ingredients.”
The junior sister tilted her head. “I remember that’s the job of the miscellaneous disciples.”
“You even know about their duties?”
“Of course!”
The junior sister placed a hand on her hip and puffed her chest proudly. “Miscellaneous disciples can go down the mountain to buy food and drinks—and they don’t get their studies checked!”
As she spoke, her expression dimmed.
“It’s just that a few days ago, I asked Master to let me become a miscellaneous disciple, but she refused. Otherwise, I could come down the mountain to play every few days.”
Cheng Hua shook her head. “Miscellaneous disciples have poor aptitude. They are mostly fools who are forcibly kept on the mountain. If you were like them, it would be a waste of your talent.”
“That’s what Master said too.”
Cheng Hua explained the reason for coming down:
“Master said you are still young and attached to the mortal world. You must not sever it completely. Coming down more often will help stabilize your state of mind.”
“Oh… then Senior Sister came down as well. Is it because you also miss the mortal world?”
Childish words were innocent—
but often struck the heart.
Cheng Hua’s eyelashes trembled slightly as Fang Chang’s frivolous smile appeared in her mind.
Then it vanished in an instant.
Her expression returned to its cold clarity as she shook her head. “I am not like you. My thoughts are not complicated. I seek the Dao wholeheartedly, with no other distractions.”
The junior sister smiled sweetly, feeling proud.
“That’s true! Senior Sister is pure-hearted and free of desire, with a clear Dao heart—truly unmatched within the sect!”
Cheng Hua was accustomed to such praise.
Her heart remained unmoved, and she did not respond.
Holding her junior sister’s hand, she stepped into Ascension Inn. From the corner of her eye, she glanced toward the guest rooms on the second floor—and suddenly froze.
“Senior Sister?”
Cheng Hua swept her gaze across—but did not see that familiar figure.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I was mistaken.”