Chapter Thirty-Three: The Mysterious Malevolent Spirit

This time, the Supreme Young Master conjured several torches on the stone wall, brightening the space. Although the stone wall was thick and solid, the rumbling sound of water could still be heard from outside. Everyone had already seen how thick the wall was, so no matter how great the flood, it was impossible for this place to be washed away.

Hua Sheng wiped the water from his forehead and had barely steadied himself when Mie Ying ran over. Her tone was much gentler than before. “Little Ant, thank you for saving me just now!”

The once derogatory “ant” had suddenly become “little ant,” giving Hua Sheng an unexpected sense of endearment. He hurried to reply, “No… it’s nothing…”

“Let me see your arm. Where are you hurt?” Mie Ying said, grabbing his arm and rolling up his sleeve.

“It’s just a scratch, it’s nothing,” Hua Sheng pulled his arm back.

“I am not some heartless ingrate! You saved me; the least I can do is show some concern,” Mie Ying said, her large eyes staring as she leaned closer.

Hua Sheng retreated until his back hit the wall, “Really, it’s nothing.”

“You’re a grown man, what are you afraid of? Do you think I’m a man-eating tiger?” Mie Ying pouted, clearly not giving up. She grabbed his arm once more, pressing down right on the wound, sending a jolt of searing pain through him.

“Ouch!” Hua Sheng instinctively pulled away.

“I said don’t move! Let me see what’s going on.”

With no choice, Mie Ying gently lifted his arm. Both his forearms had several long gashes, as if cut by a blade.

“That’s not a minor wound. If only we had some medicine,” she said.

“It’s really nothing, I’m fine!”

“Come on, let me wrap it up for you.”

“Wrap it up?” Hua Sheng glanced around. “No need for a hug, really.”

“Idiot!” Mie Ying stomped on his foot, “Who said anything about hugging you? I meant a bandage.”

“Ouch!” Hua Sheng had to balance on one leg, leaning against the wall.

“Stop moving! If you move again, I’ll break your leg!”

Mie Ying gently blew on the wound on his right arm. Hua Sheng felt a warm, tingling sensation as the breath turned into a white bandage, wrapping the wound. The pain lessened, and, more importantly, the bleeding stopped.

“Tha—”

“If you want to thank me, you can become my servant,” Mie Ying said, glancing up at him.

“Servant? That’s rather degrading,” Hua Sheng frowned, “...I’d rather not.”

“Letting you be my servant is a privilege! I don’t take just anyone,” Mie Ying muttered to herself. “The name ‘Ant’ isn’t nice, but you are an ant. From now on, I’ll call you Little Ant, it’s more endearing.”

“My name is Hua Sheng! Don’t give me random nicknames!” Hua Sheng protested.

But Mie Ying seemed not to care about his opinion and went to lift his left arm. She rolled up his sleeve and blew gently on the wound there as well. The warm breath became another white bandage, wrapping his left arm.

As she finished, Mie Ying was about to let go when she suddenly stopped. “Little Ant, what’s this on your arm?”

“Don’t call me Little Ant!” Hua Sheng protested, confused. “What do you mean?”

“This,” Mie Ying twisted his arm to show him.

The twist was so sharp that Hua Sheng grimaced in pain. “Ow! You’re going to break my arm!”

“Look for yourself, there’s a pattern on the back of your arm.”

“Pattern? I don’t have any tattoos.” Hua Sheng turned his left arm over. Sure enough, there was a strange pattern—composed of circles and short lines, arranged with no apparent order.

“Are you sure this isn’t a birthmark?” Mie Ying asked.

“Definitely not. I’ve never had anything like that.”

“Then what is this mess? Looks like someone scribbled on you with a pen.” Mie Ying pursed her lips, frowning.

“I must have brushed against something,” Hua Sheng guessed.

“It’s ugly, Little Ant. Let me wipe it off for you.”

She pressed her thumb against the mark and rubbed hard. A surge of unbearable pain shot through Hua Sheng’s arm.

“Ah!” He broke out in a cold sweat.

Mie Ying stamped her foot. “What’s wrong with you? Are you made of tofu? I barely touched you!”

“It hurts too much! It’s that kind of excruciating pain! Could it be some kind of terminal illness or tumor?”

“What are you afraid of? Whatever illness you have, I can cure it. I’ll have you hopping around like a rabbit in no time!” She reached for his arm again.

“Are you two done flirting?” came a sharp voice.

It was Xuan Wen, clearly unable to watch any longer.

“What’s it to you? I’ll do as I please! You dare interfere?” Mie Ying retorted, turning to hurl a gust of wind at Xuan Wen. But before the wind could reach him, Tian Jizi intercepted it in mid-air.

Tian Jizi said nothing, only glaring at Mie Ying.

“Hmph! You dare stop me? You’ll regret it!” Mie Ying shouted at Tian Jizi.

Hua Sheng quickly grabbed her hand, “Forget it, now’s not the time for infighting.”

Mie Ying reluctantly relented, muttering under her breath, “Just wait, I’ll show him what my third sister’s Wind-Fire Wheel can do.”

Hua Sheng whispered back, “Later. Not now.”

At this moment, the Supreme Young Master, who had been silent, spoke up. “The trial caskets have all been opened. Once the flood stops, we’ll go out to take a look. Perhaps the contest over the caskets is almost over…”

Before he could finish, the stone chamber began to shake violently, nearly knocking everyone off their feet.

Hua Sheng quickly floated into the air, only to have his head slammed against the ceiling before tumbling to the ground. How could such a massive stone, weighing tens of thousands of pounds, suddenly feel like a lone boat tossed in the sea?

Before he could become truly seasick, the shaking abruptly ceased. The group exchanged nervous glances, when suddenly the stone door crashed down.

“Careful, the water might come in!” Xuan Wen shouted, casting a spell to hold back the flood. But to his surprise, there was only heavy rain outside—the stone casket was not underwater.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared; a storm was raging.

“Did we float to the surface?” The Supreme Young Master was the first to step outside.

Hua Sheng followed closely. But as they reached the outdoors, everyone was stunned.

The familiar Academy of Daoist Arts had vanished. What awaited them outside the stone casket was a ten-thousand-ton cruise ship—modern, luxurious, the stone casket resting atop its foremost deck.

“What’s going on? This is definitely not Shengpingning! Is this the mortal world? How did we get here?” Xuan Wen exclaimed. “We didn’t even traverse the Primordial Path, how could we have wound up here?”

The Supreme Young Master looked around. “Wait, this place is strange. It doesn’t feel like the mortal world either.”

Hua Sheng surveyed his surroundings. The cruise ship was rusted and dilapidated, and in the distance, they were not at sea at all. The ship was stranded in the center of a city filled with skyscrapers. But these towers, weathered by millennia, were covered in broken glass and thick vines, transformed into towering trees.

Looking down from the ruined deck, the ground was overgrown with wild grass several meters tall. Though the city was designed in a modern style, it looked as though it had been abandoned for thousands of years.

The rain poured relentlessly, thunder and lightning overhead, with not a single living soul in sight.

“Hua Sheng, do you know this place from the mortal world?” the Supreme Young Master asked.

“How could I? If it were a small place, maybe it’d be a man-made park, but this looks like an entire city. I’ve never heard of a deserted city this large. This can’t be the mortal world I know,” Hua Sheng replied.

“Then what is this place? And why would the Eye of Heaven Trial bring us here?”

“Beidelan,” Mie Ying suddenly spoke.

“What?” Hua Sheng asked.

Mie Ying leaned against the deck railing, pointing at the ship’s hull. “This ship is called the Beidelan.”

Hua Sheng turned the name over in his mind. It sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Meanwhile, his arm throbbed painfully once more—whether from torn muscles or the mysterious pattern, he couldn’t tell.

The group searched the deck for clues as to why they had come to this place. Suddenly Xuan Wen said, “There’s a strange stench on this ship, like something left behind by a beast.”

A clap of thunder sent a chill down Hua Sheng’s spine, reminding him of the terrifying creature they’d encountered not long ago.

“A beast? You mean something like that Qiongqi?”

Xuan Wen took a deep breath. “It smells a bit like a Gu Diao, but it doesn’t seem recent.”

“What’s a Gu Diao?”

“With your knowledge, Little Ant, you wouldn’t understand even if I explained,” Xuan Wen said impatiently.

Standing on a cruise ship stranded in the heart of a ruined city, surrounded by emptiness and unease, Hua Sheng could imagine nothing more bizarre.

“Don’t you think something here is out of place?” he said.

Mie Ying asked, “Out of place? What do you mean, Little Ant?”

Hua Sheng pointed into the distance. “Look, this city seems abandoned for years, empty of people, with every building covered in greenery and weeds. The ground is so overgrown you can’t even see the roads—it’s like a primeval forest.”

Then he pointed at the cruise ship. “But this Beidelan, though battered and rusty, is not covered in plants. That means the ship and the scene around it don’t match. The ship feels out of place here, as if forcibly inserted into this setting.”

“What are you getting at?” Tian Jizi, who rarely spoke, asked.

“I mean, if the Eye of Heaven Trial was polluted, maybe it wasn’t contaminated by just one thing. I’m not sure how to put it, but the monster from the casket, this jungle-like city, and the cruise ship don’t seem like they come from the same world.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I can’t say for sure. I don’t know what’s really going on.”

“Then why bring it up?” Xuan Wen scoffed. “You’re just guessing.”

Hua Sheng felt a headache coming on. He turned to the Supreme Young Master. “From everything that’s happened, what do you think is going on?”

The Supreme Young Master shook his head. “We don’t understand because we’re at the very center of things, and so we can’t see the whole picture.”

“What do you think the whole picture is?”

“I’m not sure. But I’m certain all we’re seeing are fragments.”

“You mean?”

“Just as you said—the things we’re seeing clearly don’t fit together. That’s only what we’ve noticed; there may be more. But none of it is without reason. Some things here are real, some false. But what’s true or false may not be the most important thing—the key is who wants us to see these things.”

“So you think there’s a reason behind what we’re seeing?”

“Of course. We’re definitely still inside the Eye of Heaven Trial. But as Tian Jizi said, the contest over the caskets has been polluted, so what we see isn’t all illusion. Some things are genuine, like the trial rules and caskets, and the rest is the ‘pollution’ invading the immortal formation. Furthermore, if there’s more than one source of pollution, things become even more complicated. But everything must have an origin.”

The Supreme Young Master paused, then said, “We are simply inside the mountain, unable to see the clouds beyond.”

Hua Sheng found sense in his words. He flew atop the stone casket; the Blood Taiji was still there, but the eight porcelain caskets had disappeared—perhaps swept away by the flood.

He was about to search for clues when a deafening explosion shook him to his core.

A pillar of fire shot into the sky. Hua Sheng looked up to see the upper deck of the cruise ship wholly consumed by flames.

Startled, the group prepared to investigate when, through the fire, a hunched, withered figure appeared, small and frail, yet walking unharmed through the blaze, making its way toward them.

Wind fed the fire, flames borrowing the power of the storm. Despite the relentless rain, the blaze did not abate.

“Thunder for Zhen, wind for Xun, water for Kan, fire for Li,” the Supreme Young Master ran forward. “That’s why all the caskets were opened. The things hidden in these four trigrams are connected to the invaders of the formation, so opening the caskets triggered something—or set a condition…”

He seemed to sense something, and suddenly shouted, “Back! There’s something terribly wrong about that figure!”

As the figure emerged from the flames, Hua Sheng saw that it was a bone-thin, hideous old woman.

She panted heavily, as if exhausted from a long journey. Were it not for the fact that the flames had not harmed her at all, Hua Sheng would have thought her a grotesque but ordinary old woman.

“Why am I back? Where’s Ming You… where’s Ming You?” the woman muttered.

She looked around, talking to herself. “No, my body is gone…” She looked at her hands, then her legs, continuing, “It’s gone! Gone!”

“You crazy old hag, what nonsense are you babbling? Your body’s right there!” Mie Ying shouted.

“Mie Ying! Be careful, she’s dangerous!” the Supreme Young Master warned in all seriousness.

The old woman glanced at Mie Ying, muttering in a hoarse voice, “A spirit clan? Haven’t seen one in ages.” Then her gaze shifted. “Supreme Young Master and Tian Jizi! Why are you here? No, you shouldn’t belong here anymore!”

“You know us?” the Supreme Young Master asked, taking a defensive stance.

The shriveled woman ignored him, pointing a withered finger at Tian Jizi. “You are already dead!”

Tian Jizi said nothing, his face expressionless.

“Nonsense, he’s perfectly fine!” Mie Ying retorted. “You must be senile!”

Hearing this, the old woman began to cackle—a sound more dreadful than wailing. Then she caught sight of Hua Sheng, her eyes lighting up in a wild grin. “My true body, so this is where it is!”

A chill ran down Hua Sheng’s spine. “Your body is right there. How could it be with me?”

“Though broken and incomplete, you are in possession of my true body.”

“Nons—” Before Hua Sheng could finish, the woman hooked a finger at him. Suddenly, his left arm felt as though a barbed hook had pierced it, yanking him into the air. Agonizing pain shot through his arm, and he cried out.

Mie Ying couldn’t bear it. “How dare you bully my servant!”

She clapped her hands together and conjured a sword, lunging at the old woman. But with a flick of her hand, the woman sent Mie Ying flying across the deck. Her sword shattered into pieces, clattering to the ground.

Mie Ying scrambled to her feet, cursing, “Ugly old witch!”

Hua Sheng wanted to ask if she was all right, but his left arm blazed with agony, as if his bones were breaking, sweat pouring from his brow. His sleeve rolled up, revealing the mysterious pattern—the source of his pain.

“Hua Sheng! The pattern on your arm!” Mie Ying shouted.

Dangling in the air, Hua Sheng couldn’t see it himself. “What about it?”

“It’s changing! It looks like it’s burning!”

As she spoke, the pain intensified. “The pattern is breaking up, turning into circles and lines. I can’t make sense of it,” Mie Ying cried.

Just as she was about to charge again, a sharp ripping sound echoed. The pattern tore itself free from Hua Sheng’s arm, leaving him bleeding as if his skin had been flayed.

The bloodstained pattern flew before the old woman, who opened her mouth—wider than her head—and swallowed it whole.

“Disgusting! What kind of monster is this?” Mie Ying shouted.

As soon as the pattern left him, Hua Sheng fell to the deck.

“Excellent…” the old woman began to cackle again, her face twisted in delight. “Though damaged, I’ve finally found it.”

Wait!

The pain in his arm jolted Hua Sheng’s memory. He had seen this strange old woman in a dream!

Yes—just recently, in a dream, on a cruise ship, with rain and fire entwined—it was this very scene!

There was no mistake. He had seen this monster before!