Chapter 83: The Promise-Breaker (Part 2): Promises Made to Others Must Be Kept! Part 1

Hu Xinsu stood frozen in front of the carriage for a long time without speaking. He thought she had suddenly mutated into some kind of demon form until he saw the empty bottle of blue dye liquid and finally understood what was going on. He mumbled, “This… it’s best not to use too much. It’s bad for the body…”

With those innocent eyes and innocent big white teeth, he only thought the girl was being playful, so he couldn’t bring himself to say more. Tan Que pushed him out, as if a dog were chasing her from behind. They both tumbled out of the carriage together, her face full of ghostly surprise. “Are we there yet? We must be! Hurry up and go in to play! It’s so stuffy in the carriage, hahaha.”

Crowds flowed in from all directions, converging at the gate into a single stream as they lined up to wait for the Little Immortal at the door to inspect them. The group got out of the carriage. At the front of the line ahead, they could see the gate embedded in the mountain wall. It stood two zhang tall, painted the same earthen red as the wall, and adorned with murals.

They were still some distance from the gate, so they could only make out the general picture. On the left door, three suns hung high in the sky, with golden rays extending from their edges down toward the mortal world below, like twisted, deformed hands reaching out in insatiable greed.

The right door depicted a girl who pointed her sword at the heavens while standing astride the earth. Though it was only her back view, one could sense her awe-inspiring immortal aura and unyielding will from her resolute posture. Behind her stood several smaller figures at her sides, all looking similar to one another. They too drew their swords and pointed upward, as if joining her in battle.

A plaque hung above the gate with the words “Cup-Pot Immortal Realm” written in elegant, flowing script. The edges of the plaque were inlaid with gold, giving it a luxurious yet serene beauty.

As the crowd inched forward, Shang Shan rubbed at the paint on her face but couldn’t get it off, so she gave up for now. She looked up along the gate toward the mountain peak, tilting her head back until it nearly snapped, but still couldn’t see the top. She sighed, “This mountain is so tall.”

Tan Que hoisted Lingdang onto her shoulder, letting her drape over her head. She clasped her hands together then pulled them apart, her arms tensing. “It’s tall, long, and wide too.” She spun in a circle, tracing a round shape with her hands. “I heard it’s a big circle! I’ve never seen a place like this before.”

Shang Shan said, “I’ve never seen one either. Has Master seen it before?”

That blue little face turned toward her. Before Mu Qian Tan could speak, a burst of cackling laughter suddenly echoed from her heart.

Li Biyuan nearly fell off her chair, gasping for breath. ‘No, I wanted to say it earlier—she looks just like a Blue Elf!’

“…” Mu Qian Tan considered herself to have a high threshold for humor, but seeing that face and hearing “Blue Elf” at the same moment made her lips twitch despite herself. She subconsciously held back, turning it into a soft chuckle with her head lowered.

They had seen her cold smirks, her sneers, her scoffs, her disdainful laughs—but never this gentle, smiling curve of the lips, one that could even be described with the word “tender.” Shang Shan paused mid-step, a flush of pink breaking through even her blue face, turning it purple.

Tan Que had her head held by Lingdang and couldn’t easily turn to look, so she just poked her cheek. “What’s wrong with you? Your face looks like a monkey’s butt.”

Fur Flower was crawling around on the ground. Hearing this, she stuck out her butt and patted it, as if to say a monkey’s butt wasn’t that red! Shang Shan quickly looked ahead and whispered to Tan Que, “Lately, there’s been something weird in my head…”

The two silly kids went off whispering to each other. Mu Qian Tan suppressed her laughter and returned to her usual cold demeanor.

The line moved forward, and soon they reached the gate. Up close, the murals on the doors looked even more vivid and lifelike. Even without text explanations, just looking at them conveyed the story somewhat—it depicted a brave girl leading others to slay three villains.

Different lands had different faiths, and this must have been the local divine girl they revered.

At the gate, several people in white robes checked the entering citizens of Pot City and registered the types of demons. They all wore identical wide-brimmed white hats, with the upper half resembling an upside-down wine pot, which looked rather comical. Their robes were cylindrical and extended to their ankles, curving only at the neck, making their overall shape like a bottle.

Though their outfits were a bit funny, there was no shortage of arrogance on their faces. They deliberately stood on a higher step, nostrils flaring as they listened to the citizens report their identities, scribbled a few notes with a flourish, then waved them inside.

The people around seemed accustomed to it and raised no objections to their attitudes.

After entering the gate, everyone received a protective talisman. Then they had to pass through a tunnel about as tall as the gate.

Lamps glowed dimly at intervals along the mountain wall, not enough to light the cave interior but casting a heavy, eerie atmosphere where everything lurked in shadow. The group’s conversations, footsteps, and the creaking of carriages echoed in the cave. Someone coughed, someone spoke in low voices, and the scent of dust brushed their noses.

After proceeding like this for a while, a point of light appeared ahead. It gradually grew larger until it became blindingly white. Then cheerful, melodious music rang out, sunlight poured down in sheets, and after a moment of dizziness, they beheld the city hidden within the mountain—a city within a pot.

Emerging from the darkness, everything came into abnormally sharp, bright focus, like unrolling a massive painting scroll. A riot of colors and a roar of noise hit them all at once.

Ornately decorated high-rises lined the streets, colorful banners strung between buildings, streets packed with people like surging tides, and all sorts of vendors hawking their wares. Everyone’s faces brimmed with smiles, all carefree and joyful. The sheer number of people, the diversity, the clamor, the merriment—it was rare in the world, as if all of Pot City were immersed in honey-sweet bliss.

Shang Shan stood stunned in place, her jaw nearly dropping to the ground. It took her a good while to pick it up. “So many people.”

Tan Que had come from a small village town, but she had traveled far enough to have seen her share, even visited big cities before. Still, this unique atmosphere captivated her. “I just heard it was fun here. I didn’t expect it to be this huge. My two eyes can’t take it all in.”

The two were like newborn children, eyes wide as they curiously scanned the roadside performers singing and playing music, their own excitement surging. Hu Xinsu, afraid they would get lost, shouted from behind, “Remember to come back to Playdream Pavilion after you’re done playing! The theater troupe is staying there!”

Shang Shan called back, “Got it!”

The two darted into the crowd like birds, looking here and touching there, finding everything novel. Mu Qian Tan followed at a distance—not too close, not too far. Her striking blue color made it easy to keep track of her, so there was no fear of losing her. After a bit, she said, “So annoying. Is there any need for this many people to crowd together?”

Li Biyuan tore open a pack of instant noodles. ‘Calm down, Sister Tan. Just think of it as going out to play. Long lines at tourist spots are totally normal.’

Mu Qian Tan said nothing. She recalled how just last year she had wondered if she could endure the lonely life of secluded cultivation in ancient times. Now, secluded cultivation seemed like pure bliss. Rather than letting her ears and eyes suffer in a place like this, she would rather go live quietly as a hermit in the forest.

To this, Li Biyuan replied, ‘You’re only in your twenties this year, and you’re already thinking of hermiting away? See more, play more, get some vitality—that’s what young people do!’

Mu Qian Tan said, ‘How young? As young as you, cooped up in the company eating instant noodles every day?’

Li Biyuan coughed a few times and slurped her noodles noisily.

Mu Qian Tan vaguely sensed something in her hand. She lifted her finger and glanced—it was the protective talisman given by those white-robed people at the gate. Everyone entering Pot City received one, symbolizing that the local Pot God would also protect visitors from outside.

She placed the protective talisman in her palm. It didn’t look like a talisman at all, more like an exquisite piece of handicraft: shaped like a clay pot with some thickness, filled with hard little grains like yellow beans that rustled when touched.

Having read the original story, she knew there was nothing good inside it. But it wasn’t the right time to discard it now. Even though it made her uncomfortable, she tucked it into her sleeve for the moment.

Ahead, Shang Shan’s blue skin successfully drew plenty of stares. Someone by the roadside complimented her makeup skills. The girl scratched the back of her head and honestly admitted it was leftover from a punishment.

In any other place, her getup would definitely attract strange looks, but not here—because it was Pot City’s annual Play Pot Festival, lasting a full seven days from start to finish. Theater troupes from all over gathered here during the festival to show off their talents.

Performances had no regional limits or rules. People dressed as anything—human, ghost, demon, immortal. When everyone was strange, no one found it strange.

They hadn’t wandered long when Shang Shan remembered their main purpose here. “Tan Que, I want to go find my friends. Come with me, okay?”

She couldn’t bring Qin He to meet her friends, but there was one right here! Tan Que agreed readily. “Sure! Where does your friend live?”

At that question, Shang Shan hesitated. “I… don’t know…”

“You don’t know?”

“They didn’t tell me.”

“No problem! I remember your friend came to do iron flower performances, right? Come on, I’ll take you to Playdream Pavilion. I heard all the performers are staying there!”

Asking for directions as they went, the two arrived in front of a grand red mansion. It was imposing, packed with people, and demons scurried about chaotically—a veritable swarm of demons dancing wildly.

Tan Que dragged her to the counter, where a white-haired elder twirled his long mustache. His lips were dry and stained with ink, and his eyes behind the glazed mirror were sharp and stern as he pored over a ledger half as thick as a person, jotting things down.