Chapter 31: There is Gu

It was precisely at this moment, while the two were conversing with Jing Mo, that Du Heng slipped away.

Naturally, he hadn’t come here to visit friends and family. After all, ever since he’d returned from Kunlun Mountain last time, he’d truly experienced a period of peaceful days, contentedly planting flowers and raising grass in the Hundred Flowers Valley. Not only that, the Heavenly Emperor had even graciously bestowed upon him a bottle of tribute-quality Hundred Flowers Wine. With Du Heng’s meager magical power, drinking a single cup would leave him so drunk he didn’t even know who he was. He awoke drunk, got drunk awake—truly a life of drunken dreams.

Until one day, someone shook him awake from his dreams.

Opening his eyes, it was once again the Curtain-Raising General from the Heavenly Emperor’s side. Du Heng knew then that trouble had probably landed on him again. Just as expected, the Heavenly Emperor was sending him off to some demon city beneath Lanzhou City in the mortal realm to find a place called Cloud Gazing Terrace. Once found, he was to await further orders. If nothing unexpected happened, the Heavenly Emperor would rendezvous with him in Bright White City.

“Why me again?” Star Lord Du Heng asked. Of course, he didn’t dare ask the Heavenly Emperor, so he asked the Curtain-Raising General instead.

The Curtain-Raising General hurriedly covered his own mouth: “I am merely one who attends by His Majesty’s side. How could I fathom the imperial mind?”

Du Heng understood then. The general knew something but couldn’t say it.

“Cloud Gazing Terrace…” Du Heng murmured to himself. But he no longer asked passing strangers about it like he had in recent days. It wasn’t that he feared attracting attention, but that he’d been in Bright White City for several months already. He’d been nearly everywhere, but there was no place called Cloud Gazing Terrace.

—If there is truly no way, then cut open your own wrist. If the Cloud Gazing Terrace is nearby, there should be a reaction.

This was the last thing the Heavenly Emperor had mentioned. Although Du Heng didn’t understand its meaning, he had memorized it firmly. However, he was afraid of pain. He was also afraid that immortal blood would draw unsavory things from the demon city that he couldn’t handle. That was why he’d endlessly delayed doing it.

The Mountain Saint had come to Bright White City, along with that dog demon by her side. Star Lord Du Heng wasn’t stupid. Though he couldn’t guess at her origin, his instincts screamed she was no benevolent being. Now they were watching him day and night. He’d finally gotten an opening. If he didn’t act now, it might be too late.

Wind gathered beneath Du Heng’s feet as he flew to a secluded, deserted courtyard. First, he pulled out a set of seal script talisman papers, plucked three, and tossed them into the air. His index and middle fingers pressed together, placed to his lips, his eyes closed, he chanted silently.

Suddenly, rustling sounds arose from the surrounding corners, like venomous snakes flicking their tongues—faint, yet swiftly closing in toward Star Lord Du Heng at the center.

As if psyching himself up, Du Heng finally finished the talisman chant and bellowed mightily: “Break!”

A shrill, horrifying woman’s scream exploded behind him.

Du Heng’s scalp went numb. He nearly dropped to his knees on the spot in fright. With lingering terror, he thought: Thank goodness I chanted fast, or I’d have been devoured by ghosts right now.

Heavenly Emperor, oh Heavenly Emperor, why on earth did you have to send a minor, insignificant star lord like me to do this?

In truth, this couldn’t be blamed on Feng Jun. Back then, when he’d sealed Chuci, the array formation had linked up with several ancient grand arrays. The setup was intricate and interwoven, those jamming critical points meshing and turning like gears. One segment happened to fall right at the Hundred Flowers Valley where Du Heng was stationed. When Star Lord Du Heng ascended, his position and post were arranged by the relevant offices. The Hundred Flowers Valley wasn’t a forbidden zone either, so he’d practically “hit the jackpot” by landing there.

Forty thousand years had passed. No matter how sturdy a seal was, it had loosened somewhat. Moreover, some of those array formations were over a hundred thousand years old and were even more on the verge of collapse. The reason the mortal realm had been plagued by continuous wars and disasters in recent years, with Devil Cultivators, Demon Cultivators, and Ghost Cultivators springing up in endless succession, was closely tied to the loosening of these seals.

His purpose in descending to the mortal realm this time was primarily to reinforce the seals. Playing around in the mortal world with Jiang Yang was secondary. Think about it: for such a suspicious, sensitive, and self-praising monarch, if the destination weren’t Lanzhou City, would he have been contentedly exiled to the southwestern borderlands just for a bit of amusement?

Having been in prolonged proximity to the seals for ten thousand years, Du Heng’s body had inevitably picked up traces of that aura. That was why Feng Jun had dispatched him to Kunlun Mountain, hoping to find clues whether Chuci had been reborn. It was also why Feng Jun had sent him to Bright White City, to search for the lost eye of the seal.

The grand array was far too ancient now. Some parts hadn’t even been set by Feng Jun. Nuwa and Fuxi had once suppressed several demonic beasts. The locations of the array’s eyes—they’d only had time to mention the general areas but had never brought Feng Jun to them personally. He had to find the array eye where the demonic beasts were suppressed on his own.

Gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes, Du Heng slashed fiercely across his own wrist with a dagger. Blood instantly bubbled forth. Du Heng cupped his hand beneath his wrist, and the stream of blood halted in mid-air. He let out a long breath. After letting about half a small cup’s worth of blood flow, he hurriedly, grimacing in pain, stopped the bleeding.

Only then did he have the mind to examine the blood.

Inside Bright White City’s barrier, it was divided into five districts: east, south, west, north, and center. Outside the barrier, it stretched for a thousand li—mostly dark, ghostly regions where dregs that specifically lived in darkness resided. Bright White City was underground. The sky was artificially created by the City Lord using an array; it only allowed the sun to rise in the east and set in the west, simulating the mortal realm’s day and night. There were no clouds at all, so how could there be any Cloud Gazing Terrace?

Thankfully, Du Heng had studied a bit of Five-Five Plum Blossom calculations. His days wandering the city hadn’t been for nothing. If there were no clouds here now, what about the past? He’d drawn a huge diagram, adding and correcting it every day, and had actually calculated the most likely location.

Du Heng’s blood slowly—at a speed just barely visible to the naked eye—connected into a line. Then it detached from Du Heng’s wrist and actually stood upright on the ground like a thread to the heavens, spinning wildly like a compass needle gone berserk.

Du Heng recoiled in fright: “…”

Are you insane?

The pillar of blood spun on its own for the time it took two or three joss sticks to burn, then suddenly exploded with a puff into a mist of blood. Within the mist faintly appeared a richly ornamented, magnificently constructed mansion. The scene vanished in an instant. But Du Heng’s eyes narrowed. If he hadn’t seen wrong, suspended in front of the mansion’s gate seemed to be a plaque, upon which were written three bold characters in black gold: City Lord Mansion. And it wasn’t far from where Du Heng currently was.

What was the current City Lord of Bright White City called again? Du Heng tried to recall—was it something like Yun Yan?

Could it be that the “Cloud” in “Cloud Gazing Terrace” referred to the Yun surname of the City Lord, rather than the place most likely to see clouds? That couldn’t be right. Didn’t that mean all his previous calculations were worthless, pure blind luck?

He was about to head back. His task should end here, right? First off, a place like the City Lord Mansion wasn’t somewhere a minor star lord like him could enter. He might as well wait right here for the Heavenly Emperor. Even if he couldn’t claim credit, he shouldn’t get punished. Secondly, just because he’d managed to sneak out once today didn’t mean he’d get a second chance. When he returned this time, who knew what that dog demon would do to him. Verbal threats would be the best-case scenario. If it came to blows, he’d just have to take it.

Du Heng thought with trepidation: With the Mountain Saint here, she shouldn’t kill me, right?

Chuci asked Jing Mo, “You’re saying you come from beneath the ground in the Far West, that your father is a dragon. Does he have a human face and a dragon body?”

Jiang Yang’s past words were still fresh in her memory.

—In the Far West, there is a mountain called Zhong Mountain. On the mountain grows a Primordial Spirit Fruit Tree, with rounded leaves and crimson stems, yellow flowers and red fruit. It blooms for ten thousand years, bears fruit for ten thousand years, and takes ten thousand years to ripen. It only produces one fruit at a time. Just pluck and eat the Primordial Spirit Fruit.

—Back then, when Buzhou Mountain collapsed and the Heavenly Pillar broke, the framework of heaven and earth shifted. Many places vanished beneath the earth, including this Zhong Mountain. And this mountain also has a mountain god, whose name is Gu. His form is like a human face on a dragon’s body. He also has the power to pierce heaven and earth.

Chuci’s heart began to race with excitement. As long as this young man answered yes, she could confirm he was Gu’s son. With him around, how hard would it be to find Zhong Mountain? This child was so easily fooled; seizing the Primordial Spirit Fruit would surely be twice the result with half the effort.

Who would have thought that Jing Mo would clamp his mouth tightly shut and refuse to say a single word.

His expression seemed troubled, yet his eyes were wide open, looking expectantly at Chuci, as if hoping she would say something.

Chuci: “…”

I really don’t understand this osprey’s inner world.

Jing Mo looked at her. She turned her head and looked at Kunlun. Kunlun this time also had no idea what Jing Mo wanted to convey. So the three of them stood on the street, staring at each other, gradually attracting many onlookers. Among the crowd were those who had seen Chuci and Jing Mo fighting that day, and now people began whispering among themselves.

Chuci then said, “Let’s go inside and talk.”

Chuci walked at the very front, Kunlun followed behind her, and Jing Mo came last. The three climbed the stairs all the way to a private room. Jing Mo remained silent, but his hand tightened on his tiger-skin waist wrap.

Chuci: “I’ll go down and order some food.”

Jing Mo’s head immediately lifted to look at her.

“You’re hungry, right?”

He nodded.

“Then it’s settled.” Chuci said to Kunlun, “I’ll head down first.”

She then mouthed: Probe him for more.

Kunlun nodded.

She deliberately delayed for a while before coming back up. When she entered the room, Kunlun gave her a small shake of the head, indicating that she’d still gotten nothing. This time, no matter how Kunlun tried to get him talking—whether she offered her own identity in exchange or tried to make things up as Chuci would to make him open up—nothing worked.

It was like he’d suddenly become a closed-mouth gourd, the kind whose stopper was jammed dead.

Chuci wondered if that mention of his father had touched upon some taboo subject, which was why this osprey had sealed his lips and dared not speak a single extra word.

The food arrived. Jing Mo grabbed the chopsticks but found he truly couldn’t use them. He asked Chuci, “May I use my hands?”

Chuci raised a brow. “Go ahead.”

Tea drunk, food full.

Jing Mo asked, “Are you my father’s daughter?”

Chuci exchanged a glance with Kunlun and opened her mouth: “Yes.”

This honest, simple young man suddenly smiled. His features were born straightforward—dark brows, dark eyes, a tall nose bridge. Yet smiling, an extremely upright, handsome color emerged.

Jing Mo only smiled for an instant before suppressing his joy, assuming a stern expression. “You must not go back anymore.”

“Why?”

“Father sent me out to find you and told you not to go back. He forbade me from returning as well.”