Kunlun Mountain.
Winds and snows had blown ceaselessly for millennia and ten millennia, howling from the distant north. They climbed over this highest barrier on the western edge of Shenzhou, transforming into endless icy mist waterfalls that poured down relentlessly.
At the peak of Kunlun—a place mortals could not set foot—a green barrier appeared, separating the gales and blizzards.
A giant tree stood enveloped within the barrier, surrounded by blooming flowers everywhere, encircling this vast Garden of Life. The garden spanned a radius of ten li, filled with flying birds and roaming beasts that wandered freely. Where it met the barrier flowed a winding river, creating the wondrous sight of spring along the inner shore and winter on the outer. Between the crisscrossing rivers lay scattered marshy islands like tidal flats, where flocks of birds gathered and rested together.
This was the last immortal realm on the Shenzhou Great Land.
Within the immortal realm stood a White Jade Palace, its halls crafted from floating flying stones, seamlessly integrated with the bedrock beneath the garden. Before the giant tree in the palace lay another courtyard, where spring water gushed forth, nourishing the entire grand garden.
Faint sunlight pierced through the storm to illuminate the White Jade Palace. A tall, burly robust man walked through the palace halls.
The robust man was bare-chested, his chest muscles full and thighs sturdy. His bronze skin was covered in golden Talismanic Runes, and his entire body’s musculature was contoured like stone carvings. A gauze skirt wrapped his lower body, gold rings adorned his wrists and ankles, and a collar encircled his neck, engraved with two words: Xiangrui.
He passed through the corridors and arrived at the deepest part of the White Jade Palace. He pushed open the door and entered the bedroom.
Inside the bedroom, a youth of fifteen or sixteen lay on his side, sleeping soundly, his face full of childish innocence.
“Chaosheng, time to get up,” the robust man gently shook the youth and said, “Don’t sleep on your stomach.”
“Ah…” the youth called Chaosheng said, “Why is it bright again already?”
The burly robust man said, “Get up quickly.”
The youth sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes. His hair was jet-black, his brows like willow leaves, his eyes like dots of lacquer, his lips soft and refined, and his skin as white as milk.
The robust man shook out some clothes, pulled him into his embrace, and helped him dress. Then he carried him off to wash up. A quarter-hour later, Chaosheng arrived in the central courtyard, still full of reluctance, his sleepiness not yet dissipated. He nearly bumped into a pillar.
The robust man reached out, picked him up, and let him ride on his neck. He said, “We have a guest today.”
Chaosheng sat upon the throne at the center of the White Jade Palace hall. The robust man went to prepare breakfast and soon brought out a flatbread and a bowl of boiled beans. Chaosheng ate them while dozing off. After finishing the beans, he wiped the bowl’s rim with the flatbread, wasting not a single bit.
“I’m full,” Chaosheng said.
It was then the turn of the burly guardian to eat. He hauled out a large basket of flatbreads from the kitchen, paired them with chili sauce, and sat cross-legged beneath the throne, eating with relish.
“What does the guest look like?” Chaosheng said.
“Brought by Yuzhou,” the robust man said. “I didn’t look closely.”
“Oh, Yuzhou.” Chaosheng still held a favorable impression of this visitor named Yuzhou, for he was handsome. Though over three hundred years old, he retained the sword brows and starry eyes of a dashing youth.
He was one of the few who could visit Kunlun Mountain at any time. Ever since the Queen Mother of the West had ascended and departed, the White Jade Palace had become a realm cut off from the world, its gates forever closed to the mortal dust.
In ancient times centuries ago, divine servants had lived here. But as time passed, they had all left one by one. Now, in this vast immortal realm, only the immortal Chaosheng remained, along with the Queen Mother of the West’s former Pixiu mount—the robust man guardian.
Besides them, there was another deity: the ancient wood Jumang, manifested as a giant tree standing in the Garden of Life.
To the east of Kunlun, deep in the Taihang Mountains, lay another hidden realm called Yaojin Palace. Legend held it as the secluded retreat of the Phoenix, Great Peng Bird, and Peacock Bright King from three hundred years prior. Now, many immortal realms had become ruins, but a dragon still dwelt within Yaojin Palace. Though separated by thousands of li, it counted as a neighbor.
Thus, this dragon would visit Kunlun Mountain sometimes after years, sometimes after months. Most times, he had nothing particular to do—just sat and chatted idly with the robust man in Pixiu form, and brought some novelty for Chaosheng.
“Are you finished eating?” Chaosheng said. “If so, let him in.”
The robust man quickly finished his breakfast and went to the side of the palace hall to call for the guest. Moments later, a dragon’s roar echoed. An azure dragon carried a young man into the White Jade Palace.
Upon reaching the central courtyard, the azure dragon transformed into a youth over eight chi tall, elegant as a jade tree in the wind. Beside him stood another figure clad entirely in black, with snow-white skin and indigo-blue eyes—a martial artist.
“Yo,” the dragon-turned-man said, “Lord Jumang’s leaves have fallen even more than two years ago. That’s not a good sign.”
“This is the White Jade Palace?” the black-clad martial artist asked.
“Yes, that… what’s your name again?” the azure dragon asked. “Xiao something?”
“Xiao Kun,” Xiao Kun replied.
“Be on your best behavior later,” the azure dragon said. “Rein in that sharp edge of yours. Causing trouble here would be very troublesome.”
Xiao Kun nodded. The azure dragon added, “Just speak honestly, and they’ll surely help you.”
With that, the azure dragon called toward the interior, “Yuzhou brings the scion of the Xiao Clan to pay respects.”
