Chapter Thirty-Two: Close Encounter of the Third Kind

Dawn broke over Mount Dragon-Tiger.

Master Zhang of the Celestial Master’s Mansion and Danqiu Sheng of the Unity Daoist Alliance had both risen early to meet in the main parlor. One, about fifty years old, wore a bright yellow Daoist robe and exuded the bearing of a true cultivator—he was now the head of the Celestial Master’s Mansion. The other, attired in a traditional Chinese robe, looked to be just over forty, vigorous and spirited, holding the joint posts of Alliance Leader of the Unity Daoist Alliance and Vice President of the Chinese Daoist Association.

They had convened early for the annual grand event of the Chinese Daoist Association—the Martial Arts Tournament, marking its thirtieth year. The purpose of the tournament was to select the next generation of capable cultivators, inviting the victors to join the Association, and to allow the various sects and wandering cultivators to display their arts side by side. Here, true talents could make their mark in a single stroke, gaining renown throughout the land. It was a gathering of schools and traditions, each learning from the other, thereby advancing the collective strength of China’s cultivators.

By now, as the largest cultivator association in Asia with over 3,400 member sects and organizations and a total membership exceeding thirty thousand, it had become one of the three permanent council members of the World Cultivator Association—the other two being the European Magicians’ Association and the Knights Templar.

Early that morning, Hua Feng, after much fussing and several changes of clothes on Yun Meng’s part, joined the throng ascending the mountain. The path was crowded with a multitude: competitors, supporters, delegations from member sects, and even more tourists and locals, all eager to witness this grand spectacle. By late September, attending had become a tradition; even as bystanders, they took pride in being part of the occasion.

“Hua Feng, do you think we’ll get special treatment because of your Hero’s Medallion?” Yun Meng asked anxiously, glancing at the packed mountain.

The crowds made Hua Feng a little uncertain himself. “Well… I suppose… it shouldn’t be a problem. After all, my master is the head of the Peasant School and has attended almost every Martial Arts Tournament, leading hundreds of thousands of disciples. Even though I haven’t officially assumed my post as Hero at the headquarters, I trust my master has made arrangements. The Peasant School shouldn’t be absent this year.”

“That’s good. Otherwise, we might not even make it up the mountain!” Yun Meng sighed.

The crowd moved slowly, kept in order by stewards from the Celestial Master’s Mansion and others bearing the insignia of the Chinese Daoist Association. After three hours of shuffling along, Hua Feng and Yun Meng finally reached the summit.

Sitting atop a boulder, Hua Feng helped Yun Meng massage her aching muscles. “Feeling better? Goodness, if climbing the mountain is this hard, I hope the Peasant School’s headquarters is more accessible. If not for the Mansion’s strict ban on flying or sword-riding without permission, we wouldn’t have had to suffer like this.”

Feeling cared for, Yun Meng’s earlier annoyance began to dissipate. “Hua Feng, I’ll give you a massage later too. By the way, where are the Peasant School people? And the Unity Daoist Alliance? I haven’t seen anyone in charge.”

“Perhaps it’s not time yet. They’ll probably choose an auspicious moment to start.” As Hua Feng spoke, he gazed at the orderly bustle of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, his heart uneasy about the life that awaited him—this world of the Mansion, the Alliance, the Association, and the mysterious Snow Lord who might be his future father-in-law, as well as the Axes he’d already encountered.

The road ahead would surely bring more challenges and unknowns. In a world where strength ruled, there was much left for him to strive for.

By late morning, just as Hua Feng and Yun Meng had recovered, a group of over thirty men and women in uniform casual attire surrounded them. At first, they thought trouble was brewing, but what happened next left them speechless.

“Shen Qiu, head of the Hall of Divine Agriculture.” A refined middle-aged man stepped forward.

“Wang Yue, head of the Hall of Dignitaries.” A stunning woman of about thirty introduced herself.

“Tian Meng, head of the Hall of Blazing Mountains.” A burly man whose name matched his appearance.

“Kneel before the Hero!” The three, followed by their attendants, dropped to one knee and saluted in unison.

Stunned, Hua Feng quickly collected himself. “Please, stand up. How did you know I was the Hero?”

“Indeed, isn’t this a bit much for these times?” Yun Meng muttered under her breath.

“Your predecessor made arrangements long ago,” Shen Qiu replied calmly after they had risen. “Your information is already on record; all Peasant School disciples know you are the new Hero.”

“I see. But why have half of the six hall leaders come just for a Martial Arts Tournament?” Hua Feng was puzzled.

Tian Meng took over. “Boss, here’s the situation.” He called Hua Feng “Boss” rather than “Hero,” out of habit—a form of address that Hua Feng found more agreeable. “We received word from the Unity Daoist Alliance. There have been frequent disappearances among cultivators lately, including many high-level experts of the King of Essence rank. Their investigation suggests this is likely connected to the aliens dominating Australia.”

“What? Aliens? Did they encounter a third kind? Why would aliens abduct cultivators?” The abrupt question left Hua Feng even more bewildered, not yet accustomed to his new role.

Seeing the crowd around them, Wang Yue suggested, “Let’s discuss this inside the Celestial Master’s Mansion. We have been assigned a whole floor of guest quarters. Later, we’ll need to introduce you to Master Zhang and Alliance Leader Danqiu Sheng.”

Yun Meng, eager to escape the crowd, quickly agreed. The group hurried to the guesthouse, their rooms on the second floor. Tian Meng posted guards outside while five of them entered and sat down.

“So, what’s really going on?” Hua Feng glanced at the three hall leaders, all considerably older than himself. The idea of aliens abducting cultivators was something he had never heard of.

Wang Yue, swaying her graceful figure and lifting her proud chest, caught Hua Feng’s averted gaze and smiled seductively. “Here’s what we know: Danqiu Sheng suspects that the vital energy cultivated by our sects is an extraordinary tonic for the aliens, much as ginseng is for us. Though it’s just a hypothesis, considering that most of the hundred-plus missing experts are above the King of Essence rank, it’s not far-fetched.”

Hua Feng was even more confused. The thought that aliens were harvesting cultivators’ vital energy was utterly bizarre. Helplessly, he glanced at Yun Meng for support.

Yun Meng merely shrugged—she was at a loss as well. Hua Feng felt trapped in a bewildering maze.

Shen Qiu and Tian Meng, seeing Hua Feng’s silence, assumed he was deep in thought. Given the Hero’s supreme authority in their school, neither dared to interrupt.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The noise outside contrasted sharply with the silence within.

“Is the new Hero inside? How could you arrive without greeting your host? Forgive me for my poor hospitality!” Suddenly, the door burst open, a hearty voice rang out, and a gust of wind swept in as a Daoist figure appeared. His movement was so swift that Hua Feng and Yun Meng thought he’d teleported, while the other three showed no surprise, their expressions calm.