Chapter 595: The Love of a Father is Like a Mountain! (1/2)

Chapter 595: The Love of a Father is Like a Mountain!

Everyone left behind stood there silently, wrestling with their thoughts and emotions. Their fury toward Meng Hao might be raging to the Heavens, but they were also left with no other alternatives. The staircase had appeared because of Meng Hao, and he was the only one who could climb it.

They had tried, of course, all of them. But all they could do was see it, not touch it.

A few days later, they all met again. Everyone stood in front of Meng Hao and swore an oath promising that after the Third Plane ended, they would give him the share that he had demanded initially.

Oaths were made and witnessed, all based on the Dao. In the future, it didn’t matter what these South Heaven Cultivators acquired in the Third Plane, they would have no basis for complaint. If they broke their promise, the oath would still stand. Any hesitation on their part could influence their Cultivation base.

If it was just some words, or an ordinary oath, it wouldn’t be anything extraordinary. However, when the time came to speak the oath, Meng Hao unexpectedly produced a seemingly simple, and yet also dangerous and vicious Daoist magic.

It was something that anyone at the Foundation Establishment stage or higher could cultivate, called Dao Certification.

A few days ago outside Ke Yunhai’s Immortal’s cave, Meng Hao had requested to have this very Daoist magic. It was specifically used in this ancient age to bind agreements using Daoist magic.

With it in place, if the agreement was broken, the soul would be shredded, great Daos would be unattainable, and the Cultivation base would decline.

There was nothing anyone could do. In order to get into the Third Plane, they had to cautiously swear their oaths, using the Dao Certification as a pledge, and then complete the agreement. There were some people who refused at first, but Meng Hao didn’t need to do anything. All it took was some pressure from the others, and they finally gritted their teeth and accepted.

After all, nobody was willing to be the one to pay a heavy price while others paid nothing.

There was one thing nobody seemed to notice. Although everyone assumed that everyone else was present, Zhixiang and Patriarch Huyan were missing.

Meng Hao also swore an oath. According to their requirements, he would climb the mighty staircase. However, he would pick the exact time. He also promised that in the coming days here in the Second Plane, he would not use his power and influence to exert pressure on them. They would no longer need to be so cautious and do everything from within the shadows.

They had been waiting for such a promise for a long time. Many wondered if anyone from their Sect or Clan who had come here in the past had ever deal with anything as frustrating as this.

Up to now, they hadn’t dared to make any public appearances, or go anywhere near the Fourth Peak. In fact, whenever they saw any silkpants flying through the air, they would duck their heads for fear of Meng Hao showing up.

Their days had passed in this manner for months now, and they had endured as long as they could. At long last they could relax a bit and enjoy sunlight of this ancient time….

After the agreements were all formalized, Meng Hao realized that the time to leave this place was fast approaching. He would depart from this ancient, illusory world, and return to reality.

In truth, none of the things here were things he couldn’t part with. The silkpants lifestyle, his identity, all of it was merely a dream. When waking up from the dream, it could all be forgotten.

However, there was one thing that he wasn’t willing to forget; his father from this life, Ke Yunhai.

The fatherly love that he displayed made Meng Hao want to be immersed here and never wake up. He didn’t want the dream to end, and didn’t want to forget Ke Yunhai. In this illusory ancient world, he had finally experienced what it felt like to have a father at his side.

That feeling made up for some of the sorrow that had lurked in his heart for so long.

He gave up on Dao magic enlightenment. Other than concocting pills, he spent most of his time sitting cross-legged outside of Ke Yunhai’s Immortal’s cave. Although Ke Yunhai never opened the door, Meng Hao stayed, occasionally saying one thing or another.

That was how life went on, peacefully and quietly. There were no shocking events. Everything was ordinary. Xu Qing was still in secluded meditation, never having opened her eyes even once. Meng Hao was used to such a lifestyle by now. In fact, on more than one occasion, he thought to himself that if things continued on this way forever, it wouldn’t be so bad.

Half a month later, the ghost images were appearing just about every day. Meng Hao knew that he needed to leave. The unwillingness to part, and the complicated, embarrassing thoughts, all sent him into a melancholy state of mind.

He looked up at the sky. He looked out at the lands around him. He looked at the Seven Peaks of the First Heaven. He looked at the Fourth Peak. He looked at Ke Yunhai’s Immortal’s cave. Then he closed his eyes and thought about all the things that had occurred here.

In the very beginning, he had admitted that he was wrong. Later, he was whipped. After that, inside the Demon Immortal Pagoda, he was doted upon by Ke Yunhai, his father in this life. All of these things were unforgettable memories for Meng Hao.

He suddenly had the strong desire to offer thanks to Ke Jiusi. He wanted to thank him for sending him to this place. He wanted to help Ke Jiusi achieve his aim, and do the same for himself.

“The love of a father is like a mountain….” Perhaps this new line of thinking influenced his Dao of alchemy.

That night would be the last night he concocted pills in the Second Plane.

As for what medicinal plants he used to concoct the batch of pills, Meng Hao didn’t even remember. He was submerged in his respect for Ke Yunhai, in the beauty he had experienced in the past days, and in the emotions that existed between father and son. That was what he was thinking about as he placed the ingredients into the pill furnace.

The flavor and aroma of these medicinal plants represented various shades of Meng Hao’s heart. They mixed together as he began to concoct, and he completely disregarded any thoughts of success or failure. There were only memories. Memories of everything that had happened in his place. Memories of Ke Yunhai and his fatherly love. Memories of his own childhood, and the vague image of his own father.

No moon hung in the night sky.