Where Immortals Once Walked

This tower was built of black tiles and gray brick, solemn to the point of austerity. Above the main doors hung a massive word: Qiongze. At the base of the tower stood a stele as well, the donor names carved out and colored in red paint.

He Lingchuan looked from the tower’s name to the inscription list, then slapped his palm against his other hand. “I knew it.”

Wu Jinsong had looked too, but he still did not get it. “Knew what?”

He Lingchuan only smiled, saying nothing, just in case whoever was behind this could monitor their every move.

The words on the tower and stele were normal, not reversed as they had been in “Wuze County.”

Which meant the Wuze County he had been running through earlier had been a mirror image or literally a reflection, but the same was not the case for this battlefield.

Or, to put it another way, that reflected Wuze County was the easiest set piece for the hidden puppeteer to control, which was why He Lingchuan had been dropped there first. Only after it failed to snatch his soul did it toss him into this battlefield, hoping the sheer force of war would do the job instead.

And weirdly enough, that thought made him relax.

If the one pulling the strings could not fully control this battlefield, then he and Wu Jinsong’s group were, at least relatively speaking, safer here.

Now they just had to find a way out.

Where would the exit be?

He Lingchuan switched into the eyeball spider’s view again, but this time he saw nothing but pitch-black darkness. In his ears, Third Master Gan’s muffled voice rumbled as if coming from very far away, “So you’ve got that kind of spying trick, eh? Fine, I’ll seal your eyes and ears and see what you can do then!”

What the hell? In the time it took me to blink, the eyeball spider got discovered?

A prickle of unease crawled up He Lingchuan’s spine. Then one of Wu Jinsong’s guards, Xu Dongdong, suddenly said, “Today feels like the new moon.”

“So?”

Xu Dongdong tipped his chin up. “New moon means the moon should be dark, and yet look how round it is!”

Everyone looked up.

Sure enough, a full moon hung high in the sky—huge, perfectly round, and bright enough to wash the battlefield in silver light.

He Lingchuan remembered that the fake Wuze County had been lit by the exact same kind of moon.

However, when he had dragged Third Master Gan to Mochou Lake to find the spirit medium, the sky had been raining.

So that was the mismatch, the one thing that did not belong. He had been searching the streets for some obvious flaw and completely missed the fact that it was hanging right there over their heads.

He sent true energy into his eyes. In the full moon’s face, a shadow the size of a sesame seed sharpened and sharpened until it started to look like...

Furniture!

What he saw in the false moon was the arrangement inside the bamboo house!

He could even make out Third Master Gan seated before a mirror, staring straight at him.

It was just too far. Even if the moon had a shadow on it, no one’s first instinct would be to look up and examine it.

He Lingchuan immediately leaned close to Wu Jinsong and whispered, “I think I know how to get us out.”

He even covered his mouth with his hand as he spoke, as though that could stop Third Master Gan from reading his lips.

Wu Jinsong listened to the plan, then gave a single tight nod. “Alright, we’ll follow your lead.”

On the other side of that mirror, Third Master Gan clearly tried to listen. But they kept their voices too low. Furious, he slammed the table. “Damn it!”

The four of them doubled back, moving quietly toward the city’s center.

They passed a burning house, and the stone tiger statue by the doorway suddenly spoke, “He Lingchuan.”

Wu Jinsong and the others froze. He Lingchuan’s gaze shifted slightly. “Third Master Gan?”

It was Third Master Gan’s voice, and there was a small evil ghost crouched behind the stone tiger. The “voice” was actually coming from that small ghost.

Since He Lingchuan could see it, the trick was not eerie at all. If anything, it was almost ridiculous.

An idea sparked. Without changing his expression, he slipped off the divine bone amulet and tossed it onto the ground.

In the next instant, the small evil ghost vanished from his sight.

Oh, so that’s how it works.

Since when did the divine bone amulet let me see evil spirits and ghosts?

Is this something new? Could it be because I’d recently fed it Zhu Erniang’s molted shell?

The stone tiger did not know what he had done, nor did it care. It said blandly, “Hand over your travel token, and I’ll let you out.”

“Hand it to who?” He Lingchuan casually flicked out the small cloud-brocade flag, then produced a small bottle and pressed it into Wu Jinsong’s hand. “One pill each. Swallow it.”

Wu Jinsong and the others did not hesitate. They poured out small red pills and took them.

The moment the pills went down, their eyes felt hot, their noses swelled, their mouths turned sour, and chills prickled across their skin. It was like they were experiencing the first wave of a nasty cold. Then all three abruptly paled and stumbled back two steps.

They could see the evil ghost clinging to the stone tiger now.

The pills were soul-masking powder. Taken internally, it let a person see unclean things for a short time, and it could also temporarily veil the life fires on their bodies, masking their auras as living people. But the moment they entered real combat, the effect would break.

By then, the stone tiger had opened its mouth wide. “Just drop the travel token inside.”

“And how do I know you’ll keep your word?” He Lingchuan smiled. “Let us out first.”

“You’re trapped here. Even if you aren’t killed, you’ll die of thirst and hunger in the end.” There was no human food in this place.

“Nice threat, but your situation is a pretty good reminder not to make deals with spirit mediums.” As he spoke, his saber swept across the stone tiger’s back, severing the evil ghost in one clean strike.

Then he fed soul-masking powder to the three horses as well, and popped another pill into his own mouth.

A shiver ran through him. When the medicine spread through his limbs, he lowered his voice and said, “Follow me. Also, no matter what you hear or see, don’t turn around.”

If they did, the masking effect on their life fires would weaken.

And so, their group of four people and three horses headed straight back into the battlefield.

The divine bone necklace, of course, snapped right back around He Lingchuan’s neck soon after, as if it had never left. It refused to be apart from him for more than a moment.

Wu Jinsong and the others tightened their grips on their weapons, ready to fight at the slightest provocation. But as they passed fleeing civilians, clashing armies, and rampaging monsters, no one even glanced their way. The ones who were fighting kept fighting. The ones who were screaming kept screaming. They moved right through the chaos like they were not there.

That was the soul-masking powder at work.

In a world full of evil ghosts and spirits, as long as they did not do something stupid like turning their heads, it was as if they had gained invisibility.

He Lingchuan had only dared try it because he had already confirmed that the evil ghosts in the battlefield were fully immersed in their make-believe war and were not taking direct orders from Third Master Gan.

As they ran, he said suddenly, almost to himself, “These don’t feel like evil ghosts. If anything, they’re more like wrathful souls.”

He was referring to the kind of evil spirits that died with hatred still clinging to them.

Another wave of civilians came surging toward them in flight, pursuers snapping at their heels. The four of them carefully dodged, terrified of being bumped and exposed, while also having to avoid explosions from burning buildings, collapsing beams, and falling roof tiles.

They pushed closer and closer to the city center. He Lingchuan muttered, “It should be around here.”

Eventually, they found a small training yard beside a river.

The layout reminded him of Panlong City’s Martial Review Hall. The place looked like it had probably been used for training and sparring. Now, General, you had stationed heavy troops there. The enemy was attacking like mad, and the fighting around it was the fiercest anywhere on the battlefield.

He Lingchuan and the others did not dare charge in. They were more afraid of being caught in stray divine techniques than anything else. So they used an age-old trick; they climbed a tree several meters away and watched from above.

This spot happened to be popular with archers, too. They quietly took out a few bowmen first and claimed the best perch for themselves.

From the high vantage point, they could see Qing Xu and the other spellcasters posted at the four corners of the drill yard, each holding a bronze mirror, using them to restrain the crimson bird.

The monster had shrunk drastically, now only about one-fifth its former size, meaning that it was now only about six meters long. He Lingchuan could not tell whether this was its true form or the mirrors’ doing.

He also recognized the mirrors.

When he first entered the bamboo house, the bronze mirror on the spirit medium’s table was of the same style.

Golden light streamed from the mirrors onto the crimson bird, making its struggle completely futile.

He Lingchuan also noticed the arrow still embedded at the base of the bird’s wing. Again and again it tried to dip its head and peck it free, but the mirrors’ binding force was so strong that it could not even lower its neck.

Purple light pulsed along the arrow shaft. Clearly, origin energy suppressed it as well.

It was the combination of the mirrors and the arrow that kept the crimson bird pinned here.

He Lingchuan also saw that whenever the bird jerked violently, one of the spellcasters holding a mirror would stagger, barely keeping their footing.

They were under strain too.

This kind of stalemate burned true energy swiftly. It was hard to say who would give out first. He did see two spellcasters take out profound crystals and quietly refine them to replenish their energy.

And they were deep-red profound crystals at that. They were so tempting that it made his fingers itch.

It was a pity he knew that everything here was illusory. Otherwise, he would have absolutely tried to pocket a few before leaving.

Meanwhile, the endless assaults from the enemy army were clearly aimed at freeing the crimson bird so it could join back into the fight.

There were archers in nearby trees firing into the training yard, but a layer of flickering azure light blocked every arrow.

So there’s an array laid down here as well.

The crimson bird was He Lingchuan’s target, but right now it was trapped in Qing Xu and the others’ grip. Charging in headfirst would be suicide. The array that was set up was not decorative.

Fortunately, he had expected this. The best move now was to wait for someone else to come and smash the problem open for him.

And soon enough, that someone else arrived. He Lingchuan and the others had actually passed by it earlier.

At the far end of the street, a colossal figure appeared. It was a giant, heavily armored bull, towering over ten meters tall. Its horns were small, but its forehead was round and bulging, like someone had strapped a massive drum to its brow.

He Lingchuan let out a breath. “Finally. The swollen-head bull is here.”

He had been sure this thing would show up to wreck General You’s whole operation.

This mirror illusion realm was packed with exotic beasts, so it was not all that strange for a swollen-head bull to make an appearance as well. Of course, that was just the nickname later generations gave it. It had a proper name: Xuguang[1].

The long, straight street was the perfect charging ground. And once it accelerated, Wu Jinsong and the others understood exactly where its real name came from.

Its huge, swollen forehead started to glow. And the faster it ran, the brighter it shone.

At full speed, Xuguang was like a living locomotive. No one dared stand in its path. General You’s men tried desperately to stop it, but they were either flung into the air like rag dolls or trampled into pulp. The giant bull never slowed in the slightest.

The training yard’s gate was heavily guarded, but when the ground-shaking monster came charging in, faces went white. In the last second, they all dove aside.

Boom!

The giant bull slammed into the gate, and light erupted outward.

The glare was so blinding that even He Lingchuan and the others up in the tree snapped their heads away on instinct, afraid it would scorch their eyes.

And that glare itself was part of the attack. Anyone who tried to meet its charge head-on risked being blinded. In siege warfare, it was even worse. If defenders were forced to shield their eyes, the bull gained precious seconds to turn, reposition, and charge again.

The azure light of the defensive array wavered violently, the light shaking like a tree in a strong gale.

The giant bull hit harder than a battering ram, and it came with its own built-in “turn around and do it again” feature. It had already smashed open the city gates earlier. Now the enemy army was using it to take down a mere training yard gate, and could a mere training yard gate even compare to city gates?

1. I don’t think there’s actually any beast in Chinese mythology that this is referring to. This is probably just something the author made up on their own. ☜