Yuwen Junan watched, helpless, as the craggy, strange rocks vanished inch by inch under the light of the morning sun. Pulled by an irresistible force, he was slowly torn away from the stone forest and the warm sunlight.
When that inescapable power finally dissipated, Yuwen Junan was dragged into a world entirely unknown to him. He straightened his back slightly, rubbed the corners of his eyes, and strained them wide. He waited for a moment, but he could still see nothing.
In this place, there was neither sound nor light; everything was pitch black. Yuwen Junan stood cautiously, remaining silent. He was not afraid. He had hidden in his elder sister’s secret chamber for years, and when the lamps were unlit, it was just like this—void of sound and light. He feared nothing.
Yuwen Junan did not know how long he had been standing there, only that the Holy Spirit Jade on his chest was growing hotter and hotter. By the time he felt as if he were about to be burned, he groped for the clasp behind his neck. He unfastened the jade and clutched it in his hand, intending to find a cloth to wrap it in and tuck it away. He wanted to show it to his sister later and ask why it had become so hot. However, through the gaps in his fingers, he caught a faint glimmer—the Holy Spirit Jade was glowing.
Why hadn't his sister mentioned that the jade could glow?
Yuwen Junan tilted his head, looking at the jade in his hand. He used two fingers to lift the cord, holding the stone high. In the faint red light, the markings on the Holy Spirit Jade seemed to come alive, undulating as if in motion.
Filled with doubt, Yuwen Junan widened his eyes. Suddenly, the red light flared brilliantly. The ink-like darkness receded like a tide before this dazzling crimson radiance. Before him, it was as bright as day.
Yuwen Junan finally saw his surroundings clearly. He stood in a space that seemed to have no end. Where his gaze reached, there were no stone walls or torches—only countless eyes, staring straight at him.
***
The withered vines beneath the cliff did not hang down individually; they were intertwined, forming a tattered, ancient net. The moment Pei Hengyu’s hand touched them, the vines crumbled. The debris fell away, vanishing into the roaring water below without a single echo.
"I must be out of my mind! Jumping down here to suffer!" Pei Hengyu cursed himself silently. "This kind of work should be left to Commander Linghu; only with his martial arts is he suited for scaling sheer cliffs!"
While berating his own stupidity, Pei Hengyu vaulted away with lightning speed, searching for the next foothold. An Ming followed closely behind, clutching a sturdier vine, his eyes locked on his Emperor, ready at any moment to catch Pei Hengyu should he fall.
The mist grew thicker, and the sunlight began to wane.
"Left, go left... the vine on the left is sturdy!" The Little White Dragon hovered in mid-air, shouting anxiously. "No, wrong! Wrong again!"
It was the eighteenth time Pei Hengyu had grabbed the wrong vine. Even though he pulled his hand away the instant he touched it, his palm was still smeared with rotting residue. The Little White Dragon didn't dare to laugh; it sheepishly hid behind An Ming.
At the bottom of the cliff, the water mist was pervasive. As soon as Pei Hengyu’s boots touched the ground, they sank into the mud, soaked through. A chill crept up his trouser legs as if it had feet of its own.
Pei Hengyu shivered involuntarily. Too tired even to curse his own foolishness, he looked down at his robes, which had been shredded by sharp branches and jagged rocks. He calmly tore off a relatively intact piece of fabric to wipe the filth from his hands.
"Your Majesty," An Ming followed, drawing his long sword and surveying the surroundings. "Why is it like this here?"
Pei Hengyu stood for a moment, waiting for his eyes to fully adjust to the dim light at the base of the cliff. He used his scabbard to push aside a rotting log blocking his path, only to realize that the mist overhead was completely different from ordinary fog—it was identical to the Malicious Qi he had encountered during the torrential downpours in his previous life!
An Ming followed him closely, not daring to let his guard down for a second. Beneath his feet were nothing but stunted, rotted wooden stakes. Stepping on them didn't cause them to shatter; they simply sank into the muck. When he pulled his foot out, his black boots were covered in moldy stench. "Your Majesty, this place is eerie and terrifying. It looks like a place where evil spirits are bred."
"Human Sovereign, your guard has a good eye!" The Little White Dragon couldn't help but poke its head out again. "This really is a place for cultivating evil things!"
*They were all lured here by you, and you’re still gloating!*
Ignoring the creature, Pei Hengyu looked up at the waterfall pouring down from the cliff top, which carried thousands of lotus lanterns in its torrent. The lanterns bumped and jostled against each other as they landed in the pool at the cliff’s bottom, extinguishing in unison the moment they hit the water. As the flames died, wisps of black vapor emerged from the wicks, swirling and surging toward the opposite bank.
Coiled on the bank was a massive python, its black body tightly bound by several crimson chains. Two sharp, jagged horns jutted abruptly from its cyan-colored head.
Pei Hengyu lowered his gaze and saw the giant python squinting, inhaling the black vapor surging from the pool. Pei Hengyu pressed his hand against the Holy Emperor Sword at his waist. "Could it be that those souls are being used to feed this giant python?"
"No!" The Little White Dragon shook its head frantically, retreating further and further. Gritting its teeth, it said, "That’s not a 'python' at all. That is an ancient beast—the Ba Serpent!"
***
"A Ba Serpent?"
Yuwen Junan stood before a mirror-smooth stone wall, clutching the Holy Spirit Jade, and watched the white-haired old man press his withered fingers against the surface.
"Yes, An'er," the old man said. Behind them, those countless eyes continued to stare, their owners standing as still as if they had turned to stone.
"We are inside the Beast Trapping Array," the old man said, pointing to the wall. "What is before us is called the 'Phantom Wall.' It is a treasure of the Wu Tribe; through it, we can see the Ba Serpent at the bottom of the cliff."
The old man caressed the blurred image on the Phantom Wall, his clouded eyes filled with obsession. "An'er, the Ba Serpent is our Wu Tribe’s guardian beast. It has always protected the peace of South Chu!"
Through the Phantom Wall the old man spoke of, Yuwen Junan saw a black snake coiled by a pool. Its massive body was wrapped in crimson chains, and as he drew closer, a dull red glow faintly shimmered across the links.
Perhaps from being trapped in this place for too long, the old man’s voice sounded like it had been ground by gravel—raspy and grating. "The Ba Serpent was originally an ancient beast capable of churning seas and overturning rivers, possessing immense power. Seventy thousand years ago, our Wu Tribe had an ancestor with profound knowledge of the Dao. He used witchcraft to subdue the Ba Serpent, and ever since, this ancient beast has protected our tribe."
Yuwen Junan looked at the Ba Serpent in the Phantom Wall and asked, "Is it asleep?"
"No!" the old man said with regret. "The Ba Serpent is not asleep; it is injured!"
At this, the old man turned his head and looked at Yuwen Junan with his clouded eyes. "Over a dozen years ago, my youngest daughter—your mother—was arrogant and ignorant. She secretly used forbidden arts to help your father seize the throne, which drew down a divine punishment."
"Are you saying, Grandfather," Yuwen Junan asked, "that the natural disasters that struck South Chu a dozen years ago were caused by the Empress?"
"Yes!" the old man said. "After your mother invoked the divine punishment, earthquakes became constant. Our Saintess, Jiang Xuexin, in order to resolve the calamity of South Chu, joined forces with the Ba Serpent and sacrificed herself to the Dao to withstand the punishment. Yet, in doing so, she exhausted her power and was left on the brink of death."
This aligned with the rumors among the people, so Yuwen Junan did not refute it. He watched as the old man extended a withered finger and gripped his wrist.
"An'er, come closer," the old man said. "The people of South Chu, in gratitude for the protection of the Saintess and the Ba Serpent, voluntarily offered the souls of the tribe's youth to feed them, helping the guardian beast recover its strength so that it might protect South Chu once more..."
As he spoke, a dark glint suddenly appeared in the old man’s clouded eyes. He gripped Yuwen Junan’s hand, exerted a sudden, violent force, and slammed him hard against the stone wall.