His real name is Wu Xie.

“I just called the person who’s always with my great-grandfather. He said the old man has finished practicing and is waiting for us,” Ye Mingfu nodded at Feng Tianbao as he spoke.

“Thirteenth Uncle is Ye’s great-grandfather?” Chen Fengyun was startled by the seniority implied in that title.

“Thirteenth Uncle’s real name is Wu Xie, originally from the capital, but he settled in Hangzhou and has always been the leader of our Southern Faction. His daughter is Old Six’s grandmother, so Old Six and Thirteenth Uncle are closely related,” Feng Tianbao explained.

“What? Thirteenth Uncle’s name is Wu Xie? There’s a bestselling tomb-raiding novel with a main character called Wu Xie. Could it be based on Thirteenth Uncle himself?” Chen Fengyun asked in shock.

“That’s right. Most of the stories in that book are based on Thirteenth Uncle’s own life experiences, though some parts are fictionalized,” Ye Linchuan nodded, to Chen Fengyun’s surprise.

Chen Fengyun now sensed that “Thirteenth Uncle” had become a unique title and code name—everyone in the Southern Faction, regardless of age, called him that, and no one used his given name anymore. What shocked him even more was that Ye Linchuan openly admitted Thirteenth Uncle was indeed the Wu Xie from that famous novel. For Chen Fengyun, it felt as if he had stepped into another world.

Thinking about Wu Xie’s extraordinary life in the novel, and realizing he was about to meet the protagonist in person, Chen Fengyun grew excited. When he’d read the stories before, he hadn’t quite believed all that had happened.

But ever since he became a cultivator, his view of the world had changed dramatically. If he could become a cultivator, then surely many incredible things must exist in this world, just hidden away from ordinary life, unknown to most people.

In fact, Chen Fengyun understood that even when strange events occurred somewhere in the world, governments would always cover them up, never allowing the public to know, to prevent mass panic.

Yet, on the internet, tales of the supernatural often circulated, though they would eventually fade away, either debunked by officials or deleted and locked away. For most people, these became nothing more than idle conversation, never truly impacting their lives, so few believed in them.

Only those who had personally experienced such uncanny events could never forget. Chen Fengyun himself hadn’t believed before, but now he was a true believer.

“Thirteenth Uncle lives about five miles from here, near Leifeng Pagoda. That area isn’t open to the public—he bought that land decades ago,” Feng Tianbao said with a smile as they left the manor, noticing Chen Fengyun’s curiosity about why they weren’t taking a car. Everyone looked across West Lake to where a jade-green pagoda, over twenty meters tall, towered atop a hill.

Leifeng Pagoda, also known as the Imperial Concubine Pagoda or Xiguan Brick Pagoda, was built in 975 and took six years to complete. Legend says King Qian Hongchu of Wuyue built it to celebrate his beloved concubine giving birth to a son. In ancient times, it was called the Huang Concubine Pagoda.

The name “Leifeng” comes from its location atop the highest peak on Sunset Hill, south of Hangzhou. It collapsed in 1924 but was rebuilt in 2002 on the original site. The new pagoda’s base serves as an exhibition hall displaying relics and historical documents for visitors.

Leifeng is the central peak of Sunset Hill. In the Northern Song Dynasty, the poet Lin Hejing wrote, “A single path splits at the central peak, winding upward into the tranquil clouds. The village ahead catches the glow of evening; autumn waves can be heard across the ridge,” showing it was a scenic retreat even then.

Yin Tinggao, at the end of the Song and the start of the Yuan Dynasty, wrote, “Mist and mountain light blend softly, a thousand-foot pagoda stands tall and alone, painted boats return from the lake at dusk, and the solitary peak still glows with sunset red,” immortalizing the place in verse.

Yet the most famous tale associated with Leifeng Pagoda is the legend of Lady White, the snake spirit imprisoned beneath the tower by the monk Fahai from Jinshan Temple—a story recounted and cherished by generations.

It could be said that most who visit West Lake today are drawn by this legend, carrying with them a sense of longing and mystery.

Of course, whether the stories are true, or whether Xu Xian, Bai Suzhen, or Fahai ever existed, few people really care—they simply believe in the legend itself.

But for Chen Fengyun, he found himself inclined to believe such tales. Perhaps they were real, and perhaps even the stories from Journey to the West, Investiture of the Gods, or those of the Eight Immortals might be based in truth.

Since he knew cultivators existed, it was only logical that some of the great figures in the ancient stories were genuine cultivators. Thus, the myths and legends people know today just might be true.

“Uncle Ye, has your family always lived by West Lake? And do you believe the legends about Leifeng Pagoda?” Chen Fengyun asked as they walked along.

“If you want to know about Leifeng Pagoda, you should ask Thirteenth Uncle. He personally witnessed the collapse of the tower and was even invited by the government to help excavate its underground chamber. He knows the truth better than anyone,” Ye Mingfu replied with a smile.

Chen Fengyun realized that, since Thirteenth Uncle was already over 120 years old, he must have been born in the previous century, and since Leifeng Pagoda collapsed in 1924, he would have been an adult at the time.

If Ye Mingfu knew Thirteenth Uncle was involved in the excavation, there must be hidden stories behind it—though as non-cultivators, they probably found some things hard to believe themselves.

Chatting as they went, the group crossed the long causeway through West Lake, passed the famous Broken Bridge, and reached the opposite shore. Skirting a path beneath Leifeng Pagoda, they ascended a road behind the hill, entering a dense grove of emerald bamboo.

“Thirteenth Uncle loves peace and quiet. He’s lived in seclusion deep in this bamboo forest for years. There’s even a path leading to Jinshan Temple—sometimes he strolls there,” Ye Linchuan whispered to Chen Fengyun as they walked together.

Although Thirteenth Uncle Wu Xie was Ye Linchuan’s great-great-grandfather, everyone was accustomed to calling him Thirteenth Uncle, a tradition of the Southern Faction.

In truth, Chen Fengyun wasn’t aware that in the martial world, mentioning the Southern Faction’s Thirteenth Uncle was enough to command instant recognition—even among the nation’s highest officials. Nearly no one in China’s upper echelons was unfamiliar with him.

This wasn’t only because he was over 120 years old, but also because, during the nation’s turmoil, Thirteenth Uncle had spent several years secretly protecting the founding leaders of New China. Only after the country was established did he quietly return to his ancestral home in Hangzhou. His contributions were no secret among the country’s elite.