I Became an Immortal in the Mountains - Chapter 2 – Measure the Land with Your Feet, Reflect the World with Your Heart

All across Beiquan Mountain, the remnants of ruins stretched into the distance.

The once wide and proud stone-paved roads were now covered in moss and overgrown with weeds.

“This should be the site of the former Beiquan Sword Sect’s Hidden Sword Pavilion.”

Standing before the remains, Gu Yuanqing gazed at a deep trench carved into the ground—more than ten zhang long and three zhang deep.

“Such terrifying power… They say this was left behind by a casual strike from Sword Saint Qin Wuya.”

Beiquan Sword Sect had once been among the great sects of the age. Even at its fall forty years ago, it still had a True Martial Ninth Realm expert holding the line. But they had chosen the wrong side in a political struggle.

It was said that the sect had been founded upon two treasures: a mysterious sword and a spiritual spring.

The sword was rumored to contain profound insights into the peak of swordsmanship. The sect’s founder had comprehended the Seven Swords of the Northern Dipper from it and ascended to Master rank. When seven True Martial realm cultivators practiced the technique together, they could even challenge a Master.

After the Da Qian Dynasty destroyed the sect, the sword vanished. Since then, the mountain was declared forbidden territory.

Gu Yuanqing had read these tales in old notes and records back at the Gu Prince’s estate. Whether they were all true or not, legends always had a kernel of reality.

He stood there for a long time, examining every inch of the surroundings. Then, turning his attention inward, he focused on the mental projection of Beiquan Mountain within his spiritual sea. The ten-zhang area around him grew noticeably clearer.

This was Spirit Imprinting—synchronizing his mental image with the physical Beiquan Mountain.

“Measure the land with your feet. Reflect the world with your heart.”

This was an essential step in transforming the domain into a Taoist Sanctuary.

“Let’s move on. In the past few days, I’ve explored about a tenth of the mountain. If I keep this pace, I should be able to complete the imprinting within one or two months!”

“A blessing in disguise indeed. At this point, even if the Emperor allowed me to leave, I wouldn’t want to!”

Gu Yuanqing smiled. His spirit and energy were far stronger than just days prior.

He visited the Scripture Pavilion, Transmission Hall, and Founders’ Shrine, but all were empty—no doubt looted and carted back to the imperial treasury.

Eventually, he arrived at the Sword Forging Hall and then the back of the mountain, where the legendary spiritual spring was said to lie. Now it was dry, filled with fallen leaves and scattered stones.

“They say the waters of this spring could nourish the body—even True Martial cultivators would benefit from it.”

As dusk fell, Gu Yuanqing returned to his residence. The two silent servants were already waiting by the door with a simple meal.

Just two dishes and a soup—far from the luxuries of the Gu estate, but generous by the standards of exile.

At midnight, a wisp of spiritual energy gathered within the mountain’s projection.

Gu Yuanqing activated the Mystic Heaven Technique. Another acupoint lit up with energy as his qi flowed steadily. After an hour, he ended his cultivation and stood up.

“That’s fifteen acupoints now. Just three more, and I’ll reach the Seventh Level of Energy Warrior. Without spiritual medicine, I can only rely on this daily wisp of qi, or I’d be progressing even faster.”

Thinking of cultivation made his brows furrow.

He was not a direct heir of the Gu family and had no natural aptitude. He’d only learned the first four layers of Mystic Heaven Technique. He had never studied the higher-level Soul Refinement methods or the secrets to unlocking martial techniques.

“Well, no use worrying. I’ll deal with it when I reach the Ninth Level.”

After a quick wash, he lay down and fell asleep.

The next morning, just after dawn, he woke refreshed. With no urge to return to bed, he got up and began practicing fist and sword techniques.

A wooden sword in hand, he sliced through the air with sharp, whistling gusts—each swing faster than the last.

Thrust, pierce, slash, intercept, sweep—every motion was precise, fluid, and fierce.

With a sharp whistle, the wooden sword brushed across a boulder. The stone split cleanly in two.

He landed lightly, then sheathed the sword and steadied his breath.

“I only know White Cloud Sword Style and Cloak Cross Slash… What a waste of my swordsmanship talent.”

With the domain’s buff, his sword talent had risen to “one in a hundred”—higher than his cultivation aptitude. The techniques he had struggled with for years were now fully mastered in less than two weeks.

Unbeknownst to him, the gaunt old servant had quietly arrived with breakfast. Only when Gu Yuanqing finished his sword practice did the man bow, set the meal in the courtyard, and silently retreat.

Gu Yuanqing frowned slightly.

“His footsteps are steady—too steady. Not what I’d expect from an old man. I didn’t even notice him arrive.”

As he ate, he pondered quietly.

“Better stay cautious. After all, I’m still a prisoner. That old servant may well be an imperial spy. If they discover I’m cultivating again, things could get… complicated.”

After finishing his meal, Gu Yuanqing didn’t resume exploring the mountain. Instead, he wandered near the front cliffs, enjoying a casual stroll.

By mid-morning, he saw the young eunuch once again, leading several soldiers up the path.

Gu Yuanqing’s eyes lit up, and he quickly approached.

“Little Eunuch, did you bring any books this time?” he asked with a smile.

The eunuch lifted a stack of books.

Overjoyed, Gu Yuanqing accepted them with both hands.

“Thank you! Truly, thank you. Life here is dull—these books help pass the time. If possible, could you bring more next time? And maybe paper and ink, too?”

As always, the eunuch and soldiers said nothing. Once the old servant took the supplies, they turned and descended the mountain.

“Go on then,” Gu Yuanqing waved at the two servants, then eagerly carried the books back to his room.

He placed them one by one on a shelf—over ten volumes in total, mostly travel notes and popular tales. Nothing rare, but more than enough to kill time.

“If I had any money, I’d send a proper thank-you gift.”

He picked up a book and began to read. Things that once felt commonplace now felt like treasures.

***

Time passed quickly. Over a month went by in the blink of an eye.

The young eunuch visited twice more, each time bringing books. The shelf in his room gradually filled up. Gu Yuanqing realized he’d read more in the past month than in any full year before.

Cultivation. Sleep. Sword practice. Measuring the mountain with his feet. Reading to pass the time. That was his entire routine.

Removed from the mortal world, free of worldly distractions, his temperament was slowly refined in silence.

One morning, after breakfast, he headed toward the western cliffs.

This was once the training ground of Beiquan Sword Sect disciples. Even now, sword marks still scarred the stones and trees.

His long hair was casually tied back. His once ordinary appearance now held an air of natural ease and freedom.

He stood on a protruding boulder, peering over the edge. With his cultivation steadily rising, the Spirit Imprinting had progressed far faster than expected. Today, he would fill in the final piece of the puzzle.

As he observed, the remaining blurry section atop Beiquan Mountain’s mental image grew clearer.

Like a breeze sweeping away mist, the mountain’s phantom rippled like water, gradually becoming solid and detailed—no longer a static black-and-white image, but a crystal-clear high-definition projection.

In that instant, Gu Yuanqing’s senses expanded exponentially.

The entire Beiquan Mountain unfolded vividly in his mind. With just a thought, he could perceive every inch of it—like holding it in the palm of his hand.

He saw the two servants: one chopping firewood, the other sweeping his courtyard.

He saw birds fluttering through the forest.

He saw a trail of ants working together to carry a long worm back to their nest.

This sensory clarity was intoxicating.

He didn’t know how long he remained immersed in it. But suddenly, a wave of dizziness struck him. He nearly fell off the cliff and snapped back to reality.

Staggering back to safer ground, he focused inward again. The mountain’s phantom had changed—