Daily life of a cultivation judge-Chapter 1039: The teaching mountain

Yang Qing's earlier downcast look instantly evaporated when he saw the sight before him.

"I will meet you here in two days. Take care, Judge Yang Qing," said Wei Shen.

"Yes... Yes... Two days," said Yang Qing, sounding slightly dazed.

He didn't even register Wei Shen leaving, as his entire attention was captivated by the scenery before him. He was like a mesmerized victim held captive by a siren's tune.

How could he not, with the sight before him?

Before him stood a towering mountain that seemed to touch the heavens themselves, its peak shrouded in fog that whispered secrets of things untold. The fog glowed with a delicate golden hue from the early morning sunlight, casting an ethereal charm over the mountain.

Because of the early hour, the air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of wet grass and rich soil, along with the fragrant allure of wildflowers.

The blades of grass that covered the mountain's base swayed gently to the wind's delicate tune. Their movements stirred the other plants around them, a contagious, spring-like joy rippling outwards and waking the slumbering insects and neighboring flora.

Everything from the mountain itself, to the tall trees with branches stretching toward both ends of the horizon, to the birds and creatures that lived among them, to the plants below, the earth that held them, and the river winding around the mountain in shimmering shades of green and blue—all pulsed with synchronized vigor and vitality.

It was as though the entire landscape was alive, breathing as a single entity. And indeed, to Yang Qing, it was.

The scenery was beautiful, enchanting even, but that wasn't what moved Yang Qing to tears. Yes, in terms of aesthetics, the mountain ranked among the most beautiful places he had seen. But he had also encountered places as magnificent, if not more so—the purple forest, for one. Though he hated to admit it, the purple forest held a rare beauty that was hard to replicate, despite all the bad memories it held for him.

If Yang Qing's fascination with this place was only about its beauty, he wouldn't have felt the thrill and excitement that had taken hold of him when he learned that he'd be coming here, months in advance.

The reason his heart now brimmed with joy had to do with his beating heart as a cultivator. The power of the Dao was everywhere—in the mountain, the vegetation, the river, even the air around him—infused in a simple yet profound way.

The area before him covered just two acres, yet because of the density and magnitude of countless Daos within it, he felt as if he were standing before a vast, boundless world, pulsating with endless profundities and truths.

Just staring at a single blade of grass, Yang Qing could feel insights surfacing in his mind. When he looked around in admiration and fascination, it wasn't the beauty he was admiring but the millions of truths and the grand, powerful force of the countless Daos that had given them form.

This place felt like the source of all truths, and it was the reason cultivators within the Order fought, begged, and bribed for a chance to come here.

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An hour of cultivation here could yield gains comparable to four or five months of secluded cultivation. Some would argue the benefits were even greater, from the simple fact that one was almost guaranteed insights in this place, unlike in seclusion.

Yang Qing leaned toward that belief. While seclusion occasionally brought results, they weren't always guaranteed. Here, however, he felt a rush of ideas just from breathing, from the improvements and little adjustments he could make to the Brilliant Ray Fist Art.

In Sage Mountain, insights were a guarantee, regardless of one's talent. It was truly a place worthy of the name—The guiding mountain to all who stepped foot here.

Yet, as wondrous as this place was, there was a reason entry was restricted and why Yang Qing had to pass the test with the heart clarity stone before Cui Feng could bring him here, regardless of the approval he had already received from whichever big shot spoke at his behest.

In the world of alchemy, everything existed as either a poison or a medicine. It all depended on quantity. Too much of anything could be poisonous, no matter how beneficial it was in its raw form, and that principle held true in cultivation.

Sage Mountain was a treasure trove of countless truths and mysteries, where the profound became simple and the simple became profound. One could be flooded with insights merely by breathing.

But as beneficial as that sounded, it carried a very real risk for cultivators—a risk that was by no means small.

Being here was like drinking wine straight from a bottomless vat with one's mouth pressed firmly against the tap. If there was no way to close the flow, one would be forced to keep drinking, even when they felt drunk and could hardly take any more. Eventually, they would pass out from intoxication, and if the wine continued to pour, they might choke on it and die.

The same concept applied here. The flood of insights would never stop, and if they continued flowing uninhibited, one risked having their mind bloated from congestion. Eventually, their mind would break, leaving them either as a vegetable or a crazed being with a shattered mind and spirit.

The only way to control this overwhelming flow was by possessing a strong mind and spirit—one that could regulate the influx of insights. Alternatively, one could also survive here if they had an exceptionally gifted mind that could instantly digest each and every insight that came flowing in, and at rapid pace at that.

But what kind of talent was that? As talented as Yang Qing was, he estimated he could handle only about thirteen hours here before his mind started drifting into intoxication. And this was him—a cultivator with talents on the higher end of the spectrum, even in a place filled with talents like the Order.

It went without saying that the only safe way to be here was to possess a strong, disciplined mind and a firm spirit, which was why the heart clarity stone test was mandatory. Anyone producing a red mist within the stone would succumb within seconds if they entered here, regardless of their cultivation level.

Yang Qing took a deep breath to steady his emotions as he circulated his meditation art, clearing his mind and refreshing his spirit. Once he felt stable, he slowly began his ascent toward the mountain. With each step, the power of the countless Daos and truths permeating the area seemed to grow denser.