The foul creature charged straight at Xu Fengnian across the river, its face displaying a grotesque expression of delight. Its beautiful countenance seemed to wear the ecstasy of a woman, yet beneath the surface, it exuded a bone-deep chill, a suffocating aura of death that rendered the expression of joy utterly sinister. This monstrosity, having survived for three centuries, possessed four arms. As it flew across the river, its six limbs swayed unnaturally, and its wearing of a flowing crimson robe only enhanced its terrifying presence.
Xu Fengnian, however, knew his own plight. Moments ago, he had carefully performed a charade with Helian Wuwei, taking advantage of Zhong Shentong’s unguarded moment to deceive the old fox. If this inexplicable evil spirit forced him to reveal his true abilities, it would not only raise Zhong Shentong’s suspicions, but even a fool would grow wary. Worse still, Xu Fengnian was currently unarmed, without the Spring and Autumn Sword or the Spring Thunder Blade. Though the creature had once been defeated by Li Dangxin’s Great King Kong Seal, Xu Fengnian lacked such formidable power. Cursing inwardly, he glanced around desperately for help from any chivalrous hero or heroine. Unfortunately, he did not see the white-robed demoness, Luo Yang, nor any sign of Zhong Shentong stepping in. Instead, he caught a glimpse of Zhong Tan’s smug expression, clearly delighted at the spectacle. Their eyes met, and Zhong Tan made no effort to hide his contempt, clearly convinced that Xu Fengnian would be devoured whole.
Still, the old Jie Ling, ever the kind-hearted soul, stepped forward to block Xu Fengnian’s path, likely hoping that Zhong Shentong, for the sake of the tomb raiding plan, would intervene against the evil spirit. Yet Zhong Shentong, with ironclad restraint, merely narrowed his eyes and watched in silence.
Faced with this sudden calamity, Xu Fengnian sighed inwardly. He could not bear to let the old Jie Ling, whose martial prowess was unremarkable, suffer in his place. He stepped forward, leaping over Helian Wuwei’s body, letting slip five or six parts of his concealed energy. The force rolled out like thunder. The evil spirit of the Gongzhu Fen, now nearly upon him, turned its blood-red robe, its expression shifting from joy to the sorrowful visage of Ksitigarbha. Its four arms formed a cage around Xu Fengnian’s head. Xu Fengnian twisted his feet, adopting the Fuyao stance with empty hands. The river water surged around the young man in green robes like a dragon drawing water. In their first clash, two of the spirit’s arms were knocked aside by the Fuyao force, but the other two hooked onto his shoulders. Fortunately, they did not pierce deeply. Knowing he could not fully resist, Xu Fengnian was instantly lifted and thrown backward toward the turbulent waters of the Yellow River.
As the spirit’s expressionless face of joy watched Xu Fengnian kneel and crouch on the river’s surface, he struck the water with one palm and leapt toward the opposite bank. The spirit pursued relentlessly, its form far swifter than Xu Fengnian’s backward retreat. At a mere two zhang above the river, the spirit’s crimson robe emitted a few nearly inaudible, piercing sounds, yet it still clung tightly to Xu Fengnian’s head and hands with its four arms. Just as it was about to exert its strength to tear him apart, Xu Fengnian gazed at the spirit’s face mere feet away, sank his body’s energy, and pulled the spirit downward into the muddy river.
At the moment of submersion, besides the Golden Dew and Morning Dew swords he had just used, he no longer cared whether he revealed any clues. The remaining ten flying swords erupted from his sleeves. Moreover, the Great Huangting Mirage surrounded him as a protective barrier. He also imitated the technique Luo Yang had used at the Dunhuang Gate—summoning water as swords, their qi rolling like dragons, surging toward the hideous spirit. Additionally, he unleashed the Celestial Palm in conjunction with the Hu Jia Rhythm, striking the spirit wildly without restraint. Fortunately, this chaotic, low-level technique took place in the hidden depths near the riverbed. On land, such a method, resembling a brawl between a ruffian and a fierce woman, would have been utterly shameful. Yet, though lacking in form, it was undeniably powerful. The spirit clearly endured several devastating palm strikes capable of shattering stone. The battle between man and beast plunged deeper into the riverbed, where several jagged reefs were either broken or shattered by their clash, as if the mythical Gonggong had rammed a mountain.
Perhaps Xu Fengnian’s tactics were endless, and the creature’s mind was not particularly sharp. For a time, it found itself at Xu Fengnian’s mercy, unable to break free. Xu Fengnian’s injuries were not severe, and in the murky river water, he could not discern whether the spirit wore the joyful or sorrowful expression. Supported by his Great Huangting cultivation and his Great King Kong physique, he continuously channeled his energy, each breath feeding the next, each pulse ascending to Kunlun, cycling endlessly. He struck with unrestrained vigor, delivering blow after blow to the spirit. Several of his palm strikes, powerful enough to shatter stone, landed squarely. The battle between man and beast descended to the riverbed, where jagged rocks were broken or crushed in their wake, as if a mythical collision of titanic forces.
On the shore, the onlookers wore expressions of their own, yet all instinctively ran downstream. Helian Wuwei’s face was grim. He glared at Zhong Shentong, who wore an indifferent expression, and decided not to waste his breath. His mind raced with ways to rescue Xu Fengnian—not only for the boy’s sensitive identity, but also for the bond they had formed during their time together. He could not bear to see Xu Fengnian die in the Yellow River. And if Xu Fengnian were to die before his eyes, what if his father, the cripple, lost his mind? Would the Northern Liang cavalry truly believe that they lacked the courage to march all the way to Xihou Province? Though generals earned their glory on horseback, they also accepted the possibility of dying in the saddle. Helian Wuwei feared neither war nor the loss of life, but he only wished to face Gu Jiantang in battle, not to oppose the man who had once saved his life.
In the distance, a dozen elite riders of the Jie Ling stood ready. As the spirit suddenly struck, they galloped toward Helian Wuwei. The old general issued a quiet command, ordering them to the Jiangtai Pavilion to summon a thousand elite warriors of the Kongbi Army for reinforcement. Helian Wuwei, as a guest of the Gongzhu Fen’s senior faction, had no fear of provoking the junior faction. Daring to attack before his eyes—did they truly believe the Kongbi Army was powerless?
Zhong Tan, an outsider to the conflict, remained especially relaxed, watching the spectacle with detached amusement. As he ran, he even found time to flirt with a maid. “That fellow turned out to be a hidden master. He looked like a frail scholar, yet he managed to endure the spirit’s attack. I wouldn’t fare much better in his place. Just remember—you can’t fall in love with him.”
The maid, Liu Daogu, wearing an exquisite sachet embroidered with the image of a half-masked woman, instinctively touched the small pouch and replied with a helpless smile, “Master is jesting.”
Lu Gui remained unmoved. As a scholar of the Lu Clan, he had no interest in joining the fray. He kept his distance from the trouble, unwilling to provoke either Zhong Shentong or Helian Wuwei. One was a great general, the other a Jie Ling—both among the highest ranks of Northern Yan nobility, figures even the Empress had to weigh carefully. Lu Gui could not afford to anger them, though he could still avoid them.
Lu Shen, wanting to follow the group, was gently stopped by his father. With his back to his father, his shoulders trembled as he gazed at the turbulent river, where occasional splashes reached several zhang into the air. “You—never even told me your real name. Are you really gone like this?” Eighteen puppet-like figures clad in colorful robes stood once more, leaping into the air from all directions, their long sleeves flowing like mist, a breathtaking sight. Then they plunged into the river.
Underwater, Xu Fengnian was kept busy. Whether using the Shu-opening style to part the river or weaving the twelve flying swords into a net of silk threads, he employed every trick to keep the spirit at bay, pulling out all his hidden techniques. After all, no one could see the true battle beneath the water, so he might as well enjoy the struggle. Though the spirit had not yet revealed its full killing methods, it had already endured countless strikes from the flying swords without showing any sign of weakening, proving its formidable power. The crimson robe, brimming with an intense aura, circled within three zhang of Xu Fengnian, an unshakable specter, like a curse that would not let go.
But soon, when the eighteen colorful figures entered the water like thunderclaps, Xu Fengnian’s situation turned dire. The female puppets felt no pain and had no fatal weaknesses. Each flowing sleeve was a sword, and one strike sent Xu Fengnian crashing into a submerged reef, shattering it entirely. This hunt reminded him of the perilous battle against Tuoba Bosa on the grasslands, and he began to grow dark and ruthless. With a surge of fury, he steeled himself to endure a sleeve strike, grabbed the sleeve with his right hand, pulled the puppet closer, and smashed it from head to toe with his left palm. The puppet, now without a master, floated to the surface, its brief beauty vanishing into the endless eastward flow.
The spirit was patient. Its four arms were not for show—it coordinated the remaining puppets, striking once and retreating, waiting for the next opportunity, forcing Xu Fengnian to constantly defend. Suddenly, the pressure eased, and the spirit’s presence vanished along with the puppets. Even underwater, Xu Fengnian heard a deafening roar in his ears—falling water!
When he had toured the Yellow River with Helian Wuwei, the old man had spoken of a breathtaking viewpoint where the cliffs on both sides narrowed like a woman’s slender waist. The river’s full force converged into a horseshoe-shaped gorge, plunging thousands of feet in a spectacular waterfall. But for Xu Fengnian, caught in the current, there was no room for admiration. He knew the spirit would strike the moment he was exposed. He steeled himself, and sure enough, as the river plunged, Xu Fengnian was flung out of the water column, suspended for an instant. In the mist, he saw the boiling waters below, and the spirit hovering slightly lower, its joyful face genuinely gleeful. Seventeen puppets struck at once, their sleeves wrapping around his head and limbs. If they succeeded, the result would be far worse than being torn apart by horses.
Trapped in a deathly situation, Xu Fengnian’s body rose instead of falling. His energy flowed like rivers into the sea, each meridian connecting to the next, each pulse surging forward. He clapped his palms together in a monk’s gesture of respect.
With that single motion—
The entire waterfall paused.
For the first time in a thousand years, the Yellow River, which had flowed ceaselessly to the sea, reversed its course.
The river revealed a hidden layer of the cliff behind Xu Fengnian, exposing a breathtaking sight.
An entire wall of nine dragons, fierce and snarling, battling for a massive pearl, lifelike and vivid. The rushing waters had washed over it for centuries, yet the carving remained sharp and unmarred, its craftsmanship unfathomable.
At this critical moment, the crimson-robed spirit showed a flicker of shock. Xu Fengnian, the one who had unveiled this ancient wonder, had no time to marvel at the scene behind him. If he allowed himself to be distracted, even his many lives would not suffice. Since the spirit had foolishly exposed a weakness, he seized the opportunity. His clapped hands were merely a buildup of power. Now, he pulled them apart.
In theory, energy—whether Daoist true qi or Confucian righteous energy—was like the obscure words of ancient texts, mysterious and imperceptible, known only through meditation. Yet, in Xu Fengnian’s hands, marked by a faint purple seal between his brows, the energy took visible form, a clear purple aura.
Purple Qi from the East.
Purple tinged with gold.
A single stream of purple-gold energy, like a dragon, pierced through seventeen puppets. The spirit watched helplessly as the Gongzhu Fen’s painstakingly crafted puppets were destroyed. It fixed its gaze on the dazzling purple-gold, extended its tongue to lick its lips, like a glutton beholding a delicacy, drooling with desire. The puppets fell one by one into the misty river below, vanishing without a trace.
The crimson spirit opened its mouth wide, sucked in its belly, and inhaled the purple energy before Xu Fengnian could reclaim it. Its eyes turned purple, its joyful face growing ever more sinister. It chewed slowly, then darted toward the exhausted Xu Fengnian, its four arms striking his chest in unison.
Xu Fengnian’s mirage collapsed instantly, like a great tower crumbling. Only now did he realize the spirit’s true cunning. It was not foolish nor weak—it was cunning, knowing how to feign weakness, gradually drain his energy, and strike with deadly precision at the perfect moment.
The blow did not tear him open, but it sent him flying like a broken kite toward the stone wall behind him, engraved with the nine dragons vying for the pearl.
The momentarily halted river water resumed its thunderous descent.
Just as Xu Fengnian prepared to give his life in exchange for the spirit’s, a white-robed figure appeared. A hand pressed against the spirit’s sorrowful face, pushing it toward the dragon wall. As it passed Xu Fengnian, it delivered a light palm strike, sending both the spirit and Xu Fengnian hurtling toward the wall.
The white-robed figure pressed its palm against the carved pearl, sinking it into the wall by several inches. With a loud crash, the entire stone wall rotated swiftly, swallowing the three into its depths.
Outside the wall, the river continued its endless flow.
Inside, a world unlike any other awaited.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage