At the peak of Qingluan Mountain, clouds and mist swirled.
A resplendent and majestic hall stood tall and imposing.
Glazed tiles, purple-gold pillars, white jade paved the floor, and luminous pearls hung from the ceiling.
Furthermore, exotic flowers and rare grasses competed in splendor, while Auspicious Beasts and precious birds weaved among them.
Behind the great hall, there was an extremely elegant and warm pavilion.
Outside the warm pavilion was a meticulously tended flower garden.
An elderly man dressed in a Confucian robe was holding a purple clay teapot, hobbling unsteadily among the flowers.
The old man had white hair and beard, and a thin, refined Face. At first glance, he carried an air of transcendent grace, like an immortal.
This person was precisely the master of this Qingluan Mountain, the Seventh Cave Demon Emperor of Spirit Mountain — Old Ancestor Qinghu.
Humming an unknown little tune, he tilted the purple clay teapot in his hand.
What poured from the spout was not clear spring water or sweet dew, but streams of crimson, viscous liquid.
The originally delicate and vibrant flowers, nourished by this bloody water, immediately trembled wildly. As their petals opened and closed, they revealed mouths full of sharp teeth.
"Drink, drink..."
Old Ancestor Qinghu squinted his eyes, stroking a large flower with a kindly expression, as if petting his own Junior.
"Drink more, grow strong and sturdy, so you can guard the home for this Old Ancestor."
After feeding the flowers.
The Old Ancestor straightened his back, rubbed it, and then let out a long sigh.
"Ai..."
This sigh was filled with an indescribable desolation.
Considering the Qinghu Clan, born intelligent and versed in Yin and Yang.
Within the Spirit Mountain territory, although not counted among the top-tier combat powers, they had still prospered and thrived by relying on their innate talents.
But so what?
A demon is, after all, a demon.
In this Eastern Region, the Human Race's Dao Lineages hold control over the Heavenly Dao, lofty and superior.
These furred and horned creatures, even if they cultivate human forms, even if they learn to be full of literary knowledge, in the eyes of those truly great powers, are merely a group of slightly clever beasts.
"Difficult..."
Old Ancestor Qinghu shook his head, a flash of unwillingness in his eyes.
He did not want to be a beast.
He wanted to be human, to be that lofty and superior immortal.
These ten peaks and seventy-two caves of demons and monsters in Spirit Mountain.
Seem carefree and unrestrained, calling themselves kings and hegemons.
In reality, most have those Dao Lineages backing them from behind, or... are treated as guard dogs by the Dao Lineages.
But not all demons and monsters are willing to be dogs for humans.
Especially those like him, of the Qingqiu Lineage, who pride themselves on being exceptionally intelligent and having ambitions as high as the sky.
As long as he could cultivate the methods of the Human Race.
He was confident that within a hundred thousand years, he would certainly enter the Chess Playing Great Power realm.
At that time.
Shaking off the Dao Lineages, establishing his own mountain sect — who would dare say no?
Even the Chunyang Lineage would not, for the sake of mere Face, make an enemy of a Chess Playing Great Power.
For this purpose.
He had even established rules within the mountain, having the clan's children learn the Human Race's etiquette and literature from a young age, imitating their speech and conduct.
But this ultimately only treated the symptoms, not the root cause.
The meridian structure of the Yao Race is vastly different from that of the Human Race.
To directly practice the Cultivation Techniques of the Human Race is nothing short of a fool's dream.
But if they don't cultivate Human Race techniques... how can the Azure Luan Fox Clan compete in innate talent with those other demons and monsters who possess powerful Bloodlines?
Unless... unless they could find that legendary Transformation Treasure, completely washing away this body of Demonic Qi and reforging their Dao Fetus.
Or perhaps... a name surfaced in his mind.
Wang Canglan.
Wang Canglan is the most top-tier Prodigy of the Chunyang Lineage, with unfathomably deep resources at his disposal.
If he could bestow a single Nine Revolutions Rebirth Pill... Thinking of this, a flash of fervor appeared in Old Ancestor Qinghu's eyes, only to quickly dim again.
Wang Canglan's temperament — others might not know, but how could he not?
Having served as a dog for the other for many years, trying to pry something from his hands was as difficult as ascending to heaven.
Unless he himself could accomplish some heaven-shaking great merit.
"Great merit..."
Old Ancestor Qinghu muttered to himself.
A few days ago, he had indeed heard a rumor.
It was said a True Dragon had appeared.
A True Dragon... what kind of Heaven-Defying fortune was that?
If he could capture it and present it to the Yujing Tower, forget about a Rebirth Pill, even directly ascending to a Grotto-Heaven might not be impossible.
It's just a pity... Old Ancestor Qinghu snorted coldly, a flash of resentment in his eyes.
Such a good thing, where would it be his turn?
"Hateful that third one!"
That damned Old Flood Dragon only sought out the first two cave Demon Emperors, completely disregarding him, a Demon Emperor ranked lower.
However... "Look down on this old man?"
A gloating, cold smile curled at the corner of Old Ancestor Qinghu's mouth.
"Heh heh..."
"Serves you right now, doesn't it?"
He heard that True Dragon's power was terrifying. Even over a dozen Immortal Masters from the Dao Lineages had fallen. It slaughtered until heads rolled and rivers of blood flowed.
This news had only just returned to Spirit Mountain.
Although for Spirit Mountain, this wasn't exactly good news.
After all, the stronger that True Dragon was, the greater the difficulty for them to seize that fortune.
But for Demon Emperor Qinghu.
This was simply heavenly joyous news!
If everyone can't have it... this feeling in my heart... is comfortable!
Truly, supremely comfortable!
With this thought, the old man felt the blockage in his chest completely dissipate, his thoughts clear and unobstructed.
His gaze shifted, landing on the inkstone, brush, paper, and inkstone on the stone table.
Since Qingluan Mountain was imitating humans, these four treasures of the study were naturally indispensable.
"This scene, this moment, calls for composing a poem to express my feelings!"
The old man waved his large sleeve, possessing a somewhat literary master's air.
He lifted a large wolf-hair brush, dipped it fully in thick ink.
Pondered briefly for a moment.
Then, on the xuan paper, his brush moved like a coiling dragon.
As he wrote, he also shook his head and chanted aloud.
"Spirit Mountain's water is shallow and clear, the old dragon wants to eat but can't jump."
"Broke his teeth, mouth full of blood, this Fox Lord laughs upon the mountain peak!"
"Excellent poem! Truly an excellent poem!"
The old man looked at the crooked and twisted characters on the paper, his Face full of self-satisfaction as he said: "With literary talent like this, even if I went among the Human Race to take the imperial examinations, becoming a Top Scholar would probably be more than sufficient!"
Just as he was immersed in this inexplicable intoxication.
Outside the door, the sound of hurried footsteps suddenly came.
Immediately after.
A Fox Demon who looked like a Steward rushed in, flustered: "Old Ancestor! Old Ancestor!"
"What's the panic?"
The old man frowned, somewhat displeased as he put down the brush in his hand.
"Can't you see this Old Ancestor is composing poetry? Making such a racket, what kind of behavior is this?!"
"This... this..."
The Steward Fox Demon wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, stammering: "Old Ancestor, the Yujing Tower... someone from the Yujing Tower has come!"
"Hmm?"
Hearing this, the old man's expression changed slightly: "Who came this time?"
"It's... it's Immortal Master Liu, and... he also brought a female cultivator, said to be... said to be Immortal Master Wang's Junior Sister."
"Wang Canglan's Junior Sister?"
The old man narrowed his eyes: "Now that is a rare guest."
He pondered for a moment.
Then, with a wave of his large sleeve, he put away the calligraphy on the table.
"Let's go."
"Accompany this old man to welcome these distinguished guests."
"Remember, bend your waist low, tuck your tail tight."
The old man straightened his attire, his expression indifferent as he said: "Without absolute strength before us... we... are still those obedient, good dogs."