In the southern borderlands, amidst the myriad mountains, having crossed the Ebony Peaks and ventured into the heart of these countless ranges, Ghost Li felt as if he had entered a world of true, primordial wilderness. In the demonic sect, the term “barren wasteland” originally referred to the extreme northwest of the Shenzhou Continent, a desolate and vast expanse where much of the land was desert, devoid of life, save for the most resilient remnants of ancient species. It was thus named. Legend had it that the holy temple of the demonic sect lay somewhere in that region, though Ghost Li had never been there.
But the world before him was vastly different from the legends of that barren land. Far from being devoid of life, the myriad mountains were teeming with vegetation. As they walked, vast stretches of primeval forest stretched out, with scarcely a place to set foot. The earth was choked with competing plant life, and beyond the endless thicket of trees and thorns lurked venomous beasts and foul creatures. Malevolent, watchful eyes seemed to follow them in the shadows, biding their time to strike and make a meal of any unwary traveler.
For seasoned warriors like Ghost Li and Jin Ping’er, such common poisons posed no real threat, but the unending onslaught was truly a vexing matter. Though they could fly through the air, the toxic miasmas rising above the primeval forest made this impractical. Moreover, even their deep cultivation required rest, yet they found almost no respite from the relentless disturbances.
Over several days, even the monkey Xiaohui seemed restless and uneasy.
Aside from the harassment of poisonous mists and beasts, the peculiar weather in the myriad mountains also proved a great annoyance. Unlike the central regions, there was no gradual gathering of clouds or change in weather; rain fell abruptly, one moment clear skies, the next a torrential downpour. Similarly, it ceased just as suddenly, leaving one speechless at the sudden shift from thunder and lightning to a cloudless sky.
The timing of the rains was also unpredictable, ranging from brief intervals to prolonged deluges.
Now, the two travelers moved through a black forest shrouded in continuous drizzle.
They had chosen not to travel by flight because, when they attempted to do so, they noticed that the black forest emitted strange, ominous black gases even during the rain. In contrast, the air beneath the canopy was relatively normal.
Ghost Li and Jin Ping’er, both long-versed in the ways of the demonic sect, knew the gravity of the situation. After discussing, they decided to proceed cautiously through the black forest on foot.
This forest, like many in the myriad mountains, was densely wooded. The rain rarely reached the ground, instead dripping down through the dense foliage, creating a chill that permeated the entire woods. Apart from the sound of their footsteps and the distant patter of rain, the forest seemed to be slumbering in the rain.
Neither Ghost Li nor Jin Ping’er carried umbrellas, and even if they did, it would be cumbersome in such dense foliage. Xiaohui huddled silently on Ghost Li’s shoulder, his fur drenched and plastered to his body. Ghost Li’s face was wet, but his expression remained indifferent, as if oblivious to the eerie atmosphere around him. Jin Ping’er followed behind, showing no sign of fatigue, but her slightly disheveled hair and aloof demeanor hinted at her displeasure.
This forest was the same Black Forest she had visited before. Jin Ping’er knew that after traversing this forest and a few more mountain passes, they would reach their destination. She had told Ghost Li as much.
“Shhh…”
Ghost Li snapped a hanging branch, its ancient, sturdy trunk breaking easily in his hand. Jin Ping’er glanced at his hand, a thoughtful frown on her face.
Suddenly, Ghost Li exclaimed, “Ah!” He paused, then turned left and hurried a few steps. Before them, the forest opened up, revealing a cliff. The rocky ledge, bare of vegetation, overlooked a vast sea of swirling, colorful clouds, a sight of eerie beauty.
Jin Ping’er joined him, her face briefly changing. This was the place where she had narrowly escaped the mysterious black-clothed figure, and where she had later found the Slaughter Sword once wielded by Slaughter Monk. But she said nothing, keeping her discovery to herself.
Ghost Li gazed at the clouds below, shaking his head. “Those vibrant colors likely indicate poisonous miasmas.”
Jin Ping’er nodded in agreement. “I think so too.”
Ghost Li turned to her. “How much farther?”
Jin Ping’er wiped the water from her forehead, pausing to consider. “Not far. I remember it took me about an hour to leave this Black Forest last time. After that, we need to cross two more mountain ranges to reach the Ancient Demon Cave.” She paused, a hint of confusion on her face. “It’s odd. Last time, this forest was filled with fierce beasts, but this journey, we’ve encountered only a few minor pests.”
Ghost Li replied coolly, “Perhaps the beasts you saw have gone to the outer regions of the myriad mountains with the Beast God, to feast on human flesh.”
Jin Ping’er, taken aback, realized this was a very likely possibility. Her face showed disgust; even though she was from the demonic sect, she deeply abhorred the beast demons’ lack of humanity. And perhaps, the annihilation of the Huanxi Sect and her own narrow escape to the side of the Ghost King had solidified her dislike for the beasts.
Ghost Li took a deep breath, steeling himself. “Let’s go.”
He turned back into the dark forest. Jin Ping’er was about to follow when she suddenly turned and looked back at the cliff, a frown marring her brow. Sensing her hesitation, Ghost Li called out, rousing her from her thoughts. With a smile, she replied, “Why, do you miss me already?”
Ghost Li glanced at her, his face expressionless as he turned away, unfazed. Jin Ping’er followed, smiling. At the edge of the forest, she raised her hand, and a flash of white light shot out, embedding itself in a crevice of the cliff.
The light revealed the Slaughter Sword, now hidden in the shadowy recess.
As Jin Ping’er’s figure vanished, the dreary wind and rain seemed to envelop the forest once more, casting a gray pall over the vast skies of the myriad mountains. Somewhere in the netherworld, some deity or demon might be roaring in rage, watching over the seemingly insignificant beings on earth.
The storm intensified!
—
While Ghost Li and Jin Ping’er trekked through the storm-swept mountains, the southern borderlands beyond were buzzing with activity. More and more righteous sect disciples arrived, quickly reducing the numbers of scattered beast demons. The land had never seen so many central-region people, especially those who practiced the Dao.
The local tribes of the southern borderlands viewed these outsiders with a mixture of respect and distance. Among the righteous disciples, there was a strange tension, with most maintaining a distance unless they were from the same sect. Occasionally, conflicts erupted between different factions.
The Burning Incense Valley, the most ancient Daoist sect in the southern borderlands, became a hub for unfamiliar disciples seeking guidance. The valley, once tranquil, now bustled with visitors.
On this day, three figures arrived at the entrance of the Burning Incense Valley: Zeng Shushu of the Wind Returning Peak, Wen Min, and Lu Xueqi of the Bamboo Peak from the Qingyun Sect.
Many Qingyun Sect disciples had come, but some of the most elite, like Qi Hao and Xiao Yicai, had important duties and couldn’t join. Others, like Lin Jingyu, had stayed behind to pay respects to a deceased Qingyun elder.
Zeng Shushu and Lu Xueqi led the remaining group. Zeng Shushu, with his father’s blessing, traveled to the south. Lu Xueqi, however, had a more complex journey. Master Water Moon initially objected to her departure but later relented, sending Wen Min along. Wen Min’s presence was a boon, as Zeng Shushu, a lively character, found a companion. Otherwise, traveling with the icy Lu Xueqi would have been unbearable.
Upon arriving in the southern borderlands, Zeng Shushu suggested visiting the Burning Incense Valley. Lu Xueqi, reluctant, pointed out that they had been here before and knew the way. Zeng Shushu and Wen Min understood her reluctance, knowing she had previously refused the marriage proposal of the valley’s heir, Li Xun, causing a significant loss of face for Valley Master Yun Yilán and Daoxuan Zhenren.
Wen Min persuaded Lu Xueqi, emphasizing the importance of maintaining a good appearance. Lu Xueqi, after much deliberation, agreed.
When they arrived at the valley, they were recognized immediately, especially Lu Xueqi, whose beauty and fame had spread far and wide. The valley disciples, particularly Li Xun, couldn’t help but stare at her. Valley Master Yun Yilán, aware of their arrival, greeted them warmly, despite Lu Xueqi’s reserved demeanor.
After pleasantries, Yun Yilán inquired about Daoxuan Zhenren’s health and the state of the Qingyun Sect. Zeng Shushu, ever cheerful, responded, “Master Daoxuan is well. The Qingyun Sect is prepared to endure any hardship for the sake of the world.”
Yun Yilán’s smile broadened, and he casually mentioned a rumor he had heard. “I recently heard that the ‘Zhuxian Ancient Sword’ was damaged during the final battle. Is this true?”
The hall fell silent, and the faces of the Qingyun Sect trio turned pale. The other valley disciples, including Li Xun, were equally shocked.
Yun Yilán, unperturbed, sipped his tea. “Is this true?” he asked gently.
The silence was deafening.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage