Liyue's mountains were without number, its rivers and peaks countless, yet to those present, this meant little.
Except for Shenhe, even the youngest—Ganyu—had lived for over a thousand years, perhaps several thousand.
These immortals had long rooted themselves in Liyue. They knew every ridge and cliff; even the smallest hillock was familiar.
As for Zhongli, the Geo Archon, his knowledge of the land was absolute—there was no mountain within Liyue he did not know.
So then—
"Forgive my bluntness," Zhongli said at last, his voice thoughtful. "I know every range in Liyue, and have never once heard of a 'Mount Shu.' Not only that, among all the famed mountains of Teyvat, none bears such a name."
He paused, a realization dawning.
"Then… Mount Shu is a range from your original world?"
"And this title of Sect Master, it means—?"
Before he could finish, Jiang Yan gave a soft, amused shake of the head. Zhongli's curiosity deepened.
"Is there a problem with my guess?"
Jiang Yan's smile faded into a quiet tone.
"If I must explain… Mount Shu is indeed a mountain from my homeland long ago. To the common eye, it was nothing more than a towering, perilous peak.
"But the Mount Shu I speak of is also the name of a sect—a gathering place for countless cultivators seeking the Dao."
"Much like the various martial orders of your own Liyue."
Zhongli's amber gaze sharpened slightly; he inclined his head, lost in thought.
Until now, he had assumed Jiang Yan was the only cultivator to arrive in Teyvat. But this—this meant he had a background.
A sect that gathered such power… difficult to gauge, but if its disciples were all like Jiang Yan, then even their lower ranks would be far beyond what Teyvat could contend with.
And from what he had seen so far, winning Jiang Yan's friendship was far from impossible.
Zhongli found many of his theories on cultivation intriguing—perhaps, with time, he could glean insights to counteract erosion.
"You're wondering how many Mount Shu cultivators there are?"
Jiang Yan's quiet chuckle broke his train of thought. Zhongli did not deny it, simply held his silence.
Ganyu and the others leaned in, equally curious.
Jiang Yan's gaze turned distant.
"The Mount Shu Sword Sect is the largest cultivation order in its entire world.
"Those at the Refining Essence into Qi stage are but outer disciples. Only those who have transformed Qi into Spirit are considered inner elites.
"As for someone like me—a Spirit-Refining and Returning to the Void cultivator—"
He gave a self-deprecating smile.
"I could only serve as a Law Enforcement Elder. Above me were the Unity of Void and Dao cultivators—the true foundation of the sect.
"And Mount Shu was not merely supreme in the mortal realm. Across the Immortal World, it was a top-tier power, feared and respected alike. It was even said to shelter beings of the Grand Unity Golden Immortal rank."
"That level stands just beneath the supreme pinnacle of all realms—the Great Luo."
"Even a Grand Unity Golden Immortal could, with a wave of the hand, birth or annihilate worlds; with a single blink, turn back the rivers of time."
Inwardly, Jiang Yan admired his own ability to spin a tale.
For of course—every word was pure invention.
The Mount Shu he spoke of was nothing more than the name he intended to give the sect he had yet to found.
And a Grand Unity Golden Immortal within it? Impossible.
In the myriad realms, the Great Luo were supreme. Below them came the Grand Unity.
For Mount Shu to have such a being… it would have to be the very font of myth itself.
And what was a Great Luo?
All worlds' legends bore their reflections:
Nuwa creating mankind.
Fuxi drawing the first lines that birthed heaven and earth.
The Jade Emperor ruling infinite skies.
The Three Pure Ones of Daoism, who held the beginnings, the continuance, and the end of all cause and effect.
Those were Great Luo.
And Grand Unity?
The Candle Dragon whose open eyes were day and whose closed eyes were night.
The Five Emperors of the directions—Shaohao, Taihao, and the rest.
Even famed figures like Erlang Shen were but Golden Immortals.
For mere Mount Shu to produce a Grand Unity? Absurd—unless one believed the old whispers of it being a Daoist ancestral seat, placing its founder's image just beneath the Three Pure Ones in the temples.
Still—without such claims, how could he give Mount Shu the prestige it needed? How could he inspire Zhongli and the others to join him and strive for greater heights?
The play must go on.
He heaved a sigh—this time, tinged with a sincerity he did not have to feign. Pretending at such grandeur was, in its way, exhausting.
"Once, Mount Shu stood glorious—revered in heaven and earth, its name striking awe across all directions. It was the dream of countless cultivators."
"But…"
He pressed his lips together, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face.
"But what?"
Even Cloud Retainer found herself leaning forward.
For wisdom-born beings, curiosity never truly dies—especially for secrets of those lofty, untouchable immortals.
Even Zhongli had stopped sipping his tea, gaze intent.
So Jiang Yan continued.
"But it was all… destroyed."
His voice turned wistful.
"Even with a Grand Unity Patriarch, Mount Shu forgot—beneath the Great Luo, all are but ants.
"Three Immeasurable Kalpas ago, in the supreme Thirty-Three Heavens, a war broke out—a war that shook every realm.
"It was the war of the Great Luo."
"No one knows the cause. The records left to us say only this:
"The Jade Emperor of the Highest Golden Palace; Nuwa, the World-Creator; Fuxi, who opened the heavens with a stroke;
"The Three Pure Ones of Daoism, who hold the start, the middle, and the end;
"The Past, Present, and Future Buddhas…
"All the Great Luo entered the fray."
"And for any not of the Great Luo… in the instant their aftershocks swept past, worlds, time, space, even the cycles of causality—all shattered.
"Our Patriarch had just enough time to leave behind a few fragments of knowledge, then, with a supreme divine art, pierce the River of Time and cast tens of millions of Mount Shu disciples into scattered futures.
"Then… he sat and passed away."
Jiang Yan gave a hollow laugh.
"Ridiculous, isn't it?
"A Patriarch who had cultivated for nearly a thousand Kalpas; a Mount Shu that ruled heaven and earth…
"Billions of elite disciples, all gone in an instant.
"Our proud heritage could not even withstand the stray ripples of a Great Luo's clash.
"Countless aeons of wealth and power—gone without a trace.
"And the seeds the Patriarch scattered along the River of Time? Worn away, one by one.
"From tens of millions, perhaps only I remain…"
"Cultivation… cultivation…" His voice grew quiet, bitter.
"No matter how far we climb, how can we compare to those born as innate divinities, Great Luo from the start?
"All we pride ourselves on—in the eyes of the Great Luo, it's nothing but an ant's little trick.
"A single glance of displeasure, and we're dust."
"Cultivators fight heaven, fight men… our whole lives are a struggle.
"In the end, we cannot fight fate."
He let his arms fall, his whole frame radiating defeat.
And the world seemed to feel it.
Zhongli could sense it keenly—the sorrow spread through Jueyun Karst, through all of Liyue, even across all of Teyvat.
It pressed against his own heart until he found himself clutching his chest in confusion.
In that moment, he, too, felt a despair unlike any before.
"The boundless Mount Shu… now reduced to only me—me, a mere Spirit-Refining and Returning to the Void cultivator.
"Mount Shu… in the end, it fell to the decree of Heaven."