Shu Fu Jing had been searching through Jianghu for several years now in hopes of discovering a method to find Xui, his wife and Empress of Blue Flower Mountains.

Traveling to Jianghu was a suggestion made by both Lotus Valley Sect’s Master, Guanyu, and Secretariat Xui Shi. Both people spent their lives in the Land of Cultivators, a place obsessed with the supernatural. It was the most likely place to have information on how to find Xui, a supernatural being.

As the Fairy Emperor wasn’t available for questioning, Fu Jing decided to spend his time continuing his search by himself. It was also a good chance to see Jianghu, a place of legends. So he went with his nephew to explore mythical islands to the east.

Jianghu was beyond Shu Fu Jing’s wildest expectations. People flew on swords, they carried valleys in their pockets, lived in floating houses, and could make qi-explosions big enough to crack a mountain in half. Whether it was a merchant or an elder of a sect, they all had some proficiency in manipulating their qi.

Extraordinary was ordinary in this place.

Shu Fu Jing was secretly grateful for having gone to Lanhua first and not Jianghu. Lanhua was also remarkable, but the people lived in a much more mundane way. The ordinary lifestyle made Lanhua and it’s fantastical citizens—talking trees and transforming animals—much more relatable. Basically, the culture shock of Jianghu was lessened by experiencing Lanhua first.

The moment he stepped on the islands he felt uncomfortable. Lanhua had a pure and warm feeling to it, like an embrace, but Jianghu felt like being strangled. The very air seemed oppressive, but strangely no one seemed to notice.

He could feel in his gut that there was an unnatural force that was silently inciting aggression, paranoia, and hostility in a person. The people of Jianghu reflected as much, being short tempered and suspicious, prone to starting fights over the smallest offenses, and exceptionally selfish.

His nephew, who’d been to Jianghu multiple times and understood the place well, explained to him that there was a devil residing in Jianghu.

People who lived in Jianghu couldn’t tell, perhaps because they’d become desensitized to it, like a frog slowly being boiled to death. But those who had fairy blood or who’d lived in Lanhua for any length of time, could immediately feel the wrongness of the place.

Jianghu was tainted— no, it was poisoned, by the devil living within its borders.

But the process was slow, very slow, and there were some places where the poison was weak and a few where it hadn’t taken over at all. Those rare places where there was no poisoning were Righteous Faction strongholds, which had been dwindling in size over the centuries.

Shan Hui could tell where demons, the henchmen of a devil, were living based on how strong the “poison” was in any given area. And where it was the strongest, he assumed that’s where the devil was located.

But catching a devil was no easy task. Jianghu had a plethora of otherworldly ways to hide as long as one had the ability and the money to do it. And a devil was on par with a god in terms of raw power. It was an accepted fact that if a devil didn’t want to be found, they wouldn’t be found.

Not that Shan Hui was discouraged by this fact.

Speaking of his nephew, at first the younger man wouldn’t let him wander around Jianghu by himself. Though Shan Hui was weaker in Jianghu than in Lanhua, and therefore weaker than Fu Jing, he knew the culture better than Fu Jing. He seemed worried that his Uncle would get deceived or used by some crafty Jianghu resident.

Of course, the boy expressed this concern in the most arrogant way possible.

Fu Jing didn’t know whether to laugh or cry over this kind of smothering behavior. Was he a child who never experienced the world?

But his nephew’s concerns weren’t unfounded. Where but in Jianghu would heads attack a person after being removed from their host bodies! Or corpses gathering together into giants and taking chase! Not to mention how everyone wanted to fight everyone else, just to test their strength. There were many nights he didn’t sleep because he was being constantly attacked!

Truly, the people in Jianghu had not only very strange powers but a broken moral compass! If Shan Hui had not been there to warn and teach him how to survive in such an outlandish place, he wasn’t sure he’d have made it out alive. In the end, he couldn’t help but be grateful for his nephew sticking with him for as long as he did.

Between his travels from and to Lanhua and Jianghu, Shu Fu Jing thought he had gotten more powerful. In Dalu, he didn’t have many opportunities to truly flex his muscles. In Jianghu, however, he got more practice than he ever dreamed possible, whether he wanted it or not.

At first the locals mockingly called him the “Western Barbarian” because of his “crude” method of fighting, but later it became a title of fear and respect. No matter how snide they acted, he beat everyone who came after him. Now few people would willingly pick a fight with him.

Having gained a title as ignomous as Shan Hui’s “The Butcher”, his nephew finally—though begrudgingly—admitted Fu Jing could take care of himself. He could now freely investigate Jianghu with some confidence in his ability to defend against the insanity of this place. This freedom let him search every nook and cranny of Jianghu.

While Fu Jing learned many interesting things while in Jianghu, getting the information he wanted proved to be difficult. Firstly, he had trouble finding any being that paralleled the Yin and Yang spirits on Dalu. Almost everything talking of spirits was either related to ghosts, the dark arts, or spirit beasts. Secondly, Jianghu cultivators were secretive about any knowledge that gave them an edge over others. It was difficult to get straight answers from the locals who viewed him as the outsider of outsiders—a cultivator with no sect, clan, or association and worst of all, from Dalu.

What worthwhile information he got was almost exclusively from the Righteous Sects, starting from Lotus Valley Sect and then their Jianghu compatriots. Apparently what was left of these sects owed Shan Hui a life debt for protecting their weak and elderly by allowing them into Lanhua. They believed that should their sect perish in Jianghu, it had a chance to continue on in the mountains of Dalu. Their history wouldn’t be lost, at the very least.

The Righteous Sects more or less held to the same origin stories about many things. For instance, he discovered that spirit beasts were first created by the gods, and that it was gods who showed man how to put Qi into animals, even inanimate objects, and give them intelligence and power. Thus, whether it was a Bloodstone Seal or White Fox spirit beast that moved to Lanhua, they all traced their origins back to the gods.

But the spirit beasts made by the gods were a much higher quality than those made by mortals. They were the gods’ helpers and were bestowed with powers similar to the gods. When the gods left, these powerful spirit beasts went with them, never to be seen or heard from again.

As to the reason for why the gods left…

They were finished with their work.

Apparently they’d only been in the mortal realm to “mold the world” and once they’d finished, they returned home.

How involved they could be from their divine, heavenly realm was hotly debated amongst the Righteous Sects. Some said the gods still watched over the world, influencing it, and others said the gods didn’t pay them any mind. The evidence for the latter being that no one had ascended in centuries.

Shu Fu Jing thought the description of the spirit beasts in these legends matched the three cats—formally called The Immortal Cats—living in the Blue Flower Palace. Those “cats” were ridiculously powerful and had lived before even the mountain range existed.

From what others had told him, they knew the gods personally but had stayed in the mortal realm because they were too lazy to move. Or maybe they just didn’t feel like leaving. It was hard to get a straight answer from them concerning why they stayed.

Well, apparently cats were cats no matter how strong or intelligent.

He briefly toyed with the idea that his wife might be a kind of spirit beast, similar to those cats. But the more he thought about it, the less certain he became.

The Immortal Cats remembered and revered their gods— they just weren’t very obedient to them. His wife had no recollection of any god and certainly had no reverence for them. Or more precisely, she could not revere what she’d never experienced.

The only similarities he could find between what was written and his wife was that they had an instinctive hatred of evil and the ability to survive without a parent-figure to teach them. Of course, the same could be said of the gods; they too despised evil and knew how to exist without being taught.

But Xui was not a god. She got very bristly if this comparison was made—another instance of knowing what she was without having been told.

This only made him more sure that Xui, and her brother by proxy, were a unique existence. They were something else— neither god or spirit beast. Maybe something in the middle?

If so, could knowing how to find a god or ancient spirit beast also enable him to find his wife? The next question was natural: Who knew how to find them?

Unfortunately the Righteous Sects were useless in this regard.

There was some mention of summoning arts—enticing or trying to entrap divine beings or the dead—but this was viewed as an evil art. Gods and their helpers could not be restrained. They came and went where they willed, that was their nature and mortals shouldn’t try to change it. The dead, too, were not meant to be with the living. Such thinking was considered “against the Dao”—against the way the world worked and therefore bad.

Shu Fu Jing didn’t want to summon anyone, he wanted to find them!

The only mentions of “finding” divine beings had to do with founding legends— extraordinary stories of how sects and clans started. These were exceptions and not the rule. They also varied greatly, making it useless for his purpose.

From the Righteous Sect perspective, what good would searching for gods and their helpers be when they’d already left? Once again, to try to find a being that should not be there, besides being a waste of time, was going against the Dao. The Dao had sent them away, therefore, they should not be sought after.

Fu Jing felt, upon reading this line of thinking, that the Righteous Faction was rigid to a stupid degree. There was no reason to villainize a person for inquiring! The world was vaste— just because the gods left Jianghu, did that mean they had left everywhere? Couldn’t it be that there were things the Sects had not thought of and didn’t know? The Immortal Cats remained, so who knew who else had stayed behind!

He grumbled quite a bit over this point before letting it go.

Perhaps the Neutral Faction would have some information. They weren’t as inflexible in their thinking.

Unfortunately the Neutral Faction had no favors or loyalty to Shan Hui, much less Shu Fu Jing. Finding divine beings was considered a special power and that made it a closely held secret to those who knew. It was extremely difficult to get someone to divulge secret cultivation knowledge…

Having reached a roadblock, he was left traveling from city to city, checking out any place that sold rare books and scrolls. Jianghu had been around for thousands upon thousands of years, many sects, clans, and associations had self-destructed or simply faded out of existence. Their written records sometimes remained and would be sold on the open market.

He happened to find a small bookstore in a tiny town that had a bit of a reputation for acquiring rare finds. It was raining and the entire town seemed gloomy because of the downpour. Thunder could be heard rumbling off in the distance, promising an even heavier deluge was coming.

The man who owned the store was short and rod-thin, with large bags under his eyes and patchy colored skin. From Fu Jing’s perspective he looked ill, but he knew better than to say so. Addiction to pills to help cultivation was common in Jianghu. He wouldn’t be surprised if this person took too many pills and was suffering for it now.

“Dear customer, what can I help you with?” The unwell looking shopkeeper asked him with a professional smile.

“I’m looking for books related to spirits and finding them— ah, I don’t mean ghosts or performing summons. More like something related to unique or unusual spirits and how to find them…”

The shopkeeper rubbed his pointy chin and thought.

“Spirits, hm… I do get those kinds of books now and then but… someone always buys them the moment I get them...”

“Someone is buying them?”

“Yes, there’s an expert in spirits.”

Fu Jing was immediately interested.

“Expert? Do you know where they live?”

The shopkeeper sighed, closing his eyes and raising his hands helplessly.

“I mean, maybe I do and maybe I don’t, if only something were to jog my memory…”

There was no such thing as free information in Jianghu. Fu Jing immediately set down several spirit stones, the currency on these islands.

The shopkeeper picked the spirit stones up, weighing them in his hands for a second, and then smiled a little more genuinely.

“En! If you ask anyone in town, they’ll know about him. Goes by Master An. He lives in a cave to the south of here— hold on a minute—” The shopkeeper reached under his desk and pulled out a paper and brush and began making a crude map. “He’s a hermit but he comes to our town to buy books about spirits. I specifically keep an eye out for books on that topic, because I know, no matter how expensive, he’ll buy them. Apparently he’s been doing that before I was born and before my father was born, he must be really old. In which case, his collection is probably massive by now.”

Fu Jing took the crudely drawn map and asked, “If he’s a hermit, will he be willing to talk to me?”

“He’s not unfriendly, just obsessed. It’s safer not to get him talking about his favorite subject, otherwise he won’t stop.”

“Really? He doesn’t consider it… secret knowledge?”

“I don’t think so? Well, maybe there’s things he won’t talk about, I don’t know. I’ve never seen him with a disciple or anything, so I don’t know if he’d keep something secret if he’s no plans to pass it down.”

Shu Fu Jing nodded, heartened. The only reason for keeping something a secret, other than it being dangerous, was to pass it on to the next generation— either family or disciple.

He thanked the shopkeeper and left.

It was fortunate he’d come here, even though the place was small and unknown. He’d unexpectedly found a hidden gem.

The map was primitive and it took him a while to find the place. Jianghu was mountainous and had an extensive cave system. The constant rain didn’t help anything either.

By the time he found Master An’s cave, he was soaked. The cave had an enormous creeping vine covering the entrance. The vines were in full bloom, with red colored pointed petal flowers covering everything that seemed to glisten and sparkle in the rain.

The map mentioned the flowers specifically, making Fu Jing suspect that these flowers bloomed out-of-season. Flowers can’t be used as a landmark if they didn’t bloom all year ‘round and that meant they’d been meddled with by a cultivator.

As there was no door to knock on, Fu Jing gave a simple greeting at the entrance to indicate he was there. He’d meant to wait for an answer when a loud rumble above him indicated the annoying rain was about to get heavier. He hastily went inside to escape the deluge that was about to come down.

The inside of the cave was surprisingly well illuminated. The walls were covered in bright green moss and the ceiling moss glowed a faint yellow.

Shortly after noting this, the sound of the rain increased, so loud that it sounded like thousands of small drums being hit at once. He internally scolded the weather for being so fickle. Jianghu’s weather patterns didn’t follow seasons properly, with some places going from scorching hot one day to snowing the next. Why anyone wanted to live in this place was a real mystery to him.

He used his internal qi to dry himself off before continuing. It would be rude to drip all over the floor of someone’s house, even if the floor was made of dirt.

The further he walked in, the stranger his surroundings became. Plants he’d never seen before were growing directly in the ground or from a pot. Some were unnaturally large and others shaped so strangely it was almost like they had faces.

Perhaps oddest of all was that there was none of the“poisonous aura” commonly found in Jianghu here. This was not necessarily a good thing either, as rather than the absence making the place feel more comfortable, it made the place feel stagnant. Even Dalu had a bit of elemental energy floating about to give it a sense of being alive. But here there wasn’t anything like that. It was like… nothingness.

The narrow entrance of the cave suddenly opened up and with it a bright light shone down. Shu Fu Jing looked up but couldn’t see a source for the light.

He could only assume it was one of those strange things cultivators could do.

The inner cave was enormous and, like the entrance, covered in plants. They were similarly strange, with the ones here looking more monstrous than plant-like.

He was wondering if he should turn around and leave when he heard a voice:

“Who are you?”

Shu Fu Jing cupped his hands and bowed, politely greeting in the direction of the voice, “Pardon my sudden intrusion. I am Jing. By any chance is this the residence of Master An?”

“It is and I am he.”

The man walked out from behind a particularly ugly looking plant and stared at Shu Fu Jing with curiosity.

Master An was a tall, good looking man but not remarkably so, a rarity in Jianghu. Most cultivators were vain. The moment they had just a small amount of power, they invested it into their appearance. That’s why it was easy to tell the weak from the strong. The stronger a person became, the more striking they looked.

Master An, on the other hand, had a sort of kind and benevolent appearance that put a person at ease. He also didn’t dress flashy as was common in Jianghu, opting for simple scholarly style clothes in tan and black. Perhaps because of his obsession, he didn’t get very far in his cultivation and had little in the way of money to spare on more colorful outfits.

Shu Fu Jing felt a bit relieved at the somewhat ordinary appearance of Master An. The surroundings were unsettling him a little and Master An’s normal looks balanced it somehow.

“Master An, I was told in a nearby village that you are well-learned in the subject of spirits. I have come in hopes of learning from you about this subject.”

Master An’s continence immediately brightened at the mention of his obsession.

“You like spirits too?”

Shu Fu Jing thought for a moment and nodded. It wasn’t a lie exactly. He married a mountain spirit, so that counted as liking them right?

“Come in, come in!” Master An walked off in a direction, waving Fu Jing to follow him. As they walked further into the cave, Master An talked, “It’s rare to find others who are interested in spirits. Most come here to talk of spirit beasts, which is not the same thing— ah, you aren’t here for that too, are you?”

“No. I have an interest in beings who aren’t… corporeal.” He paused, “But also not ghosts of the dead.”

“Very good! We are of the same mind then!” Master An seemed even more excited having confirmed they were talking about the same thing. “It’s really so frustrating! Everyone assumes spirits must be ghosts or beasts, but that’s simply not true! There are records of other beings as well.”

“Really? What other beings have you heard of?”

“Supposedly on Dalu there’s a big spirit living on a mountain—”

Shu Fu Jing almost stumbled and fell. No one in Jianghu had ever expressed knowledge of the spirits living in the Blue Flower Mountains and it had caught him by surprise to have it brought up now.

“Are you alright?” Master An asked, looking back at him in surprise.

“Er, yes, just, tripped on a root…”

“Oh, I should have warned you. The ground isn’t very even because of all the plants.”

Shu Fu Jing nodded and couldn’t help asking, “Why are there so many plants in this cave?”

“I grow them.” Master An explained, “From the beginning I’ve always been talented with plant life you see. Though it’s not really my interest, a talent is a talent. I use it to make a living by raising rare and unique plants.”

“That explains it…”

“Hm? What’s explained?”

“It’s just that I haven’t recognized a single plant here.”

Master An chuckled.

“If you had identified them, that would be extraordinary enough that I’d never let you leave.”

Fu Jing frowned slightly at the other man’s joke, feeling something about it was not quite right.

They came to an open area that had been obviously cleared for living in. There was a bed, table and chairs, a small stove and what appeared to be a cabinet where daily items were stored for easy access.

It was surprisingly normal for a cultivator.

Did this man spend all his money on books and then have none for a storage ring?

Shu Fu Jing immediately scrapped the idea. There were no books to be seen. It was more likely Master An’s storage ring was filled with books and there was no space for anything else.

After being offered a seat at the table, Master An went to the cabinet and began pulling out items for tea.

As he did so, Fu Jing asked, “I’ve heard you’ve an extensive collection of books related to spirits?”

Master An glanced at him as he placed his tea pot on the stove to heat up the water.

“I do…” He said slowly, “But you’ll forgive me if I don’t pull those out yet. We have only just met after all.”

“R-right.”

If the shopkeeper was correct, then this man had some very old and valuable writings in his possession. Only an idiot would immediately pull them out and show them to a stranger. What if the stranger invited inside meant to stab him in the back and steal his collection? That was a real possibility in Jianghu!

“However, if it’s just talking, that’s alright.” Master An smoothly continued the conversation. “What got you interested in spirits?”

“You know that big spirit you mentioned early?”

“The one in Dalu?”

“Yes, that one. That’s what got me interested.”

“It is very interesting, isn’t it? As far as spirits go, it’s the oddest one.”

“Not one, two.”

“Two?”

“Yes, there are two spirits.”

Master An, back facing Fu Jing, seemed to still for a moment.

“...you talk like you’ve seen them personally.”

“I have. Both of them.”

Master An moved the teapot away from the heat, opened the lid, and dropped the tea leaves in the infuser. He walked over with the tea pot and set down two other cups for drinking.

He smiled warmly at Fu Jing, eyes alight with interest.

“Tell me about your experiences and then I will tell you what I know about the spirit— spirits, there.”

Fu Jing retold what he knew about his wife before she became human. The fact that she took on flesh later he didn’t mention. It wouldn’t be good to give too much of his origin away to a stranger, even if his homeland and Jianghu were practically on the other side of the world from each other.

After he’d finished, Master An hummed to himself thoughtfully. The tea had seeped and he poured it into the two cups he’d set out earlier.

“That’s very interesting. What I know of that place is more the origins of it rather than what happened later.” He said, sipping some of his tea.

Shu Fu Jing had been about to drink tea as well but got distracted by this comment.

“There are stories about their origins?!”

Master An looked startled by Fu Jing’s excitement.

“E-en, of course, of course. Though Dalu is no use for cultivating now, it wasn’t always so, there was a time when cultivators traveled the world and knew all kinds of things.”

“They used to travel around Dalu? I’d only read about them settling here…”

Master An lowered his tea cup and sighed, looking a little sad.

“A great deal of knowledge has been lost about the world, and those in Jianghu don’t bother recording things that won’t further their cultivation or give them prestige.”

Fu Jing nodded with emotion. His own efforts at researching showed that, regardless of faction, everyone in Jianghu was obsessed with getting stronger. Their singular focus meant many subjects were neglected.

While he was feeling that was unfortunate, he remembered the tea cup in his hand and drank it. The taste was refreshing with a sharp flavor he couldn’t identify at the end. It was a little strange to the tongue but still tasty.

Master An watched him drinking for a moment before continuing.

“Since you have a vested interest in the spirits of those mountains, I’ll tell you what I know.” Master An tilted his head as he recalled the story. “Back then, the heavenly and mortal realms were open to each other. Gods moved freely between them. This was to allow the gods to mold the world, as the Dao had instructed. It happened that a god and goddess got into a quarrel in the heavenly realm. The goddess fled to the mortal realm to hide, but the god followed. Forced into a corner, the goddess got into an intense fight with the god. Eventually the fight ended, but the land they’d fought on was completely destroyed. The foundational energies of that area had been warped, causing the land to be in a constant state of flux. It couldn’t grow life and the damage was severe to the point that the area around it was affected and also couldn’t grow anything.”

“What were the god and goddess fighting over?” Shu Fu Jing asked curiously.

Master An furrowed his brow.

“I never did discover why.”

“Do you know who won then?”

He chuckled, taking a sip of tea. “The goddess.”

Shu Fu Jing also drank more of his tea, feeling relaxed.

“Anyway, the mess the two gods had created can be thought of as a tangled thread. The gods working on the world had to untangle it before they could say their job was completed. They succeeded in every area except for one—”

Fu Jing could guess.

“Blue Flower Flower mountains.”

“That’s right! That area’s energy wouldn’t cooperate no matter what the gods did, until finally two gods got together and approached the problem in a different way.” Master An leaned back. “If the knot couldn’t be untangled from the outside, perhaps it could be untangled from the inside? And so they gathered the unwieldy energy into one spot and gave it a soul.”

“....a soul?” Shu Fu Jing hadn’t expected that. “How would a soul help?”

“A soul has intelligence. It can be given tasks, learn and grow… eventually giving it the ability to untangle itself.”

“But they never gave the soul— the spirits of that mountain, any tasks or even talked to them.”

Master An shrugged, “I don’t know about that part. I only know that in the story the energy was given a soul. It became a spirit, an intelligent being. From then on, that area of the world settled down and the gods were finally able to complete their works. After that they left.”

Fu Jing couldn’t help narrowing his eyes.

“They could have at least said something to the spirits before they left, it's practically abandonment…”

Master An laughed at his guest’s complaint.

“That would have been the kind thing to do, wouldn’t it? Well... based on what you told me, though this is just my guess… maybe they didn’t have the time.”

“How could gods not have time?”

“They were set to mold the world. If the mountain spirits really don’t remember seeing any gods, it means the gods had left by then because they’d finished their tasks. In which case, it seems that giving the mountains a soul was not an instant process. By the time the spirits were fully aware of themselves, able to express personal desire and interest, the gods had already left. The energy was properly settled and was no longer a problem, therefore they had no interest in the mountain spirits and didn’t care what happened to them.”

Shu Fu Jing pursed his lips. The gods went to all that trouble and then, once they got the desired result, they simply didn’t care anymore? They were really heartless!

“Honestly, what I know isn’t nearly as interesting as what you know.” Master An commented, putting down his empty tea cup and refilling it. He also refilled Fu Jing’s cup while he was at it. “You’ve given me such valuable information, I want to give something in return. Is there a particular book you’re looking for?”

Fu Jing shook his head, body relaxed.

“It’s not a book exactly. I’m looking for…. Um… a process I guess.”

“Process?”

“Yes, the… the spirit I told you about, she’s… lost… and I’m trying to find her.”

“Lost? How did she get lost?”

He opened his mouth, wanting to answer, before clamping his jaw shut. He raised his hand and touched his forehead, feeling puzzled. For a moment he’d felt compelled to answer, despite having strictly decided beforehand not to give too much away on the first visit.

Master An glanced at him and shrugged.

“Never mind, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to tell me.” He put his tea cup down and hummed for a moment. “If you want to find this spirit, the easiest thing to do would be to call them.”

“C-call…?”

Fu Jing pushed his forehead into his hand, his head suddenly felt heavy and his mind slow. The air seemed to grow thick and the sound of the thunder from the storm outside, which he’d completely forgotten about, could be heard rumbling again.

“Yes, you simply call them. Any spirit on earth can be called, you simply need a pre-existing connection with them and to know their name.” Master An leaned forward, his eyes half closed. The sound of his voice had a strange depth to it. “The spirits on the mountain never had proper names and were extremely hostile to outsiders. But if someone who’s on friendly terms like yourself calls them by their names, they’ll come. How about it? Want to try?”

“I… I don’t… know…”

Master An looked impatient and snapped, “Do you want to find this spirit friend of yours or don’t you? I have no other way to find a spirit except through calling them.”

Shu Fu Jing opened and closed his mouth several times. It was difficult to think clearly and he was tempted to just agree. But something deep within him paused him, forcing him to think through why he was hesitant to go along with Master An’s suggestion. The sound of distant thunder crackled outside.

“What about... the ocean?” He finally managed to squeeze out.

Master An raised an eyebrow.

“What about it?”

As Shu Fu Jing thought it through, clarity slowly began to return.

“It’s… it’s bad for spirits… the… the ocean. I mean.”

“Hah! Really?” Master An laughed disdainfully. “No wonder they never left the continent to cause trouble after gaining a brain. Heh, Nuwa was so arrogant about making them, but in the end she really didn’t have the confidence. She ended up putting a restriction on them as a precaution.”

“Who… are you?” Fu Jing asked sluggishly, glancing around furtively. Two things were becoming increasingly clear: this person was not normal and neither was the weather outside.

The thunder was getting louder but how was that possible? They were in the middle of a cave!

The other man blinked and said with exasperation, “Didn’t we already introduce ourselves, ah?”

“Calling them… that’s just a form of summoning…” Fu Jing narrowed his eyes. “Summoning a spirit... is considered a dark art. Who are you really?”

Master An looked at him and, setting his tea cup down softly on the table, smirked.

“You’re just as overpowered as the reports say. Really, it’s very impressive, nicely done. That potion would have crippled the highest level cultivator in Jianghu, making them agree to anything.” Master An—or whoever he truly was—clapped his hands as if to congratulate. “As for who I am, it doesn’t really matter. What matters is whether you want to find this spirit friend of yours or not.”

Shu Fu Jing knew he’d been drugged and the person in front of him was ill intentioned. But knowing and doing anything about it were two different things. That drug was truly powerful, his body was slow to respond to what his head was telling it to do.

To give himself time, he kept talking, “I’m supposed to… trust you?”

“Mm… you don’t have to trust me as a person, just that I can get you what you want.”

“And why… would you… do that for me?”

Master An stood up and walked over to Shu Fu Jing.

“Because I’ll get something useful out of it in return, of course.”

“Which is…?”

“You don’t need to worry about that part of it.” Master An lowered himself so that he was eye level with Fu Jing. “Just think about what I’m offering for a moment. You’re from Dalu, right? You’ve come here searching for how to find this spirit friend of yours. And if I’m guessing right, it’s because you couldn’t find the answer in Dalu. Not even, perhaps, from the spirit that remains on the mountain? In which case, you’re out of options. I’m telling you now, if the remaining spirit can’t find your friend, there’s no one else in the world but myself who can do it.”

He suddenly reached out and touched Shu Fu Jing’s arm, his expression extremely gentle and caring.

“Just call her name, call her here, and she’s yours forever. Don’t worry about the details, leave that to me. You’ve just got to call her name. It’s easy isn’t it?”

Shu Fu Jing gripped the arms of the chair he sat in, sweat forming on his brow. The air felt humid and sticky, as if it might start raining at any moment, and the thunder was piercing through his ears again and again, almost deafening him. It was clear something terrible would happen if he did as this stranger suggested, but despite knowing that, an intense longing gripped his heart.

He’d looked for her for so long.

It’s tiring.

It’s true that his brother-in-law, his best hope, couldn’t find her either.

It’s hopeless.

All he wanted was his wife back, why was it so hard?

Life is unfair.

Could calling her name really bring her to him?

It’s so easy.

Even if the method was questionable, if the end result got him what he wanted...

Why not try it?

For a moment he almost said yes to the temptation, it was on the tip of his tongue to give in…

And then a line from the end of his wife’s journal sprang to his mind, unbidden:

‘.... don’t let that dark hole in his heart grow more…’

Whatever he’d been thinking prior, the thought of his wife’s words instantly dominated his mind.

What was the context of that line? He struggled for a moment to remember the rest.

‘Remind your Father that I loved him until the end. And not to mourn too long for me.’

How could he not mourn for her?

...what had she said after that?

‘What if it swallows him, and he goes to the place evil men go after they die? I can not bear the thought!’

She was afraid his grief would swallow him, turning him into a spectre of himself.

A wicked person that her own spirit would be repulsed by.

‘I hope Jing doesn’t fall into darkness… but if the choice wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be himself.’

That’s right.

He had a choice.

Shu Fu Jing’s mind stilled for a moment, followed by a flair of anger.

Since when was he the sort of person who would do anything to get what he wanted? Since when was he so obsessed with a single idea that he lost his reason? Since when was he that weak?

He turned and glared at the “Master”.

“Get out of my head!”

This man had done something to him, he was sure of it!

“Why do people keep accusing me of mind reading?” Master An raised his palms to the sky helplessly. “I can’t read minds. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s all you.”

“Liar.”

“Naturally. Just not in this instance.”

Shu Fu Jing frowned, blinking furiously. He didn’t want to believe this person but for some reason he sounded very convincing.

Could it be that he really had become that weak?

What did cultivators call it when a person wouldn’t let something go?

A mental demon.

Had he turned his wife into a mental demon?

His entire being shuddered in shame at the thought.

How could he allow the very memory of his beloved wife be tainted in such a manner!?

No, no, NO!

Each Denial was followed by a louder crash of thunder.

He grit his teeth and spit out, “Even if it’s me, even if it’s what I desire, it’s still wrong and I refuse to indulge in it.”

The moment he acknowledged the wrongness of his thought process, something inside him snapped and the mental fatigue vanished, leaving only the sound of a storm that shouldn’t be audible rumbling in his ears.

He stood up with a clatter and tried to fly away, only to discover the best he could was jump. He jumped as far as he was able without a second thought.

The Master stood up from his crouched position and chuckled.

“Amazing. The one thing you really wanted and you turned it down.” He placed his hands on his heart and shook his head, “Do you know how rare it is to find someone who can deny their truest desire? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the only person in the world able to do it!”

Shu Fu Jing had stopped listening to the person in front of him, but was instead scanning the area. Now that he was free from the “Master’s” mind control, the feeling of nothingness vanished and in its place was the poisonous aura found all over Jianghu, only 100 times more potent.

He jumped up, finally able to fly and intending to immediately get out of the cave, but the Master suddenly appeared right in front of him.

With a disturbing smile on his face, “Master An” wagged his finger.

“No, no, you can’t leave.”

After saying that, Shu Fu Jing felt something wrap around his ankles. Startled, he looked down and saw two thick vines, coming from one of the many monstrous plants in the cave, wrapped around his legs.

To make matters worse, Fu Jing felt sandwiched between two competing atmospheres. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the storm above him forming, the pressure so intense it made it hard for him to breathe. Below was a quickly forming poisonous fog, the smell of which left him feeling nauseous and ill. Every hair on his body was standing on end, screaming at him to escape.

He quickly took out his sword, which was usually left in his storage ring, and tried to slice the vines off. It was like a mortal trying to break a rock with a stick. His sword simply bounced off.

Next, he tried to put qi into his sword, but discovered that his internal energies were still unstable. When he tried to put any energy into his sword it disrupted his ability to fly.

Master An floated towards him leisurely, the creepy smile still there.

“What a shame you resisted me—” The evil man’s eyes filled with black smog as he spoke, the same smog began seeping out of his mouth. “—if you’d just given in, I’d have gifted you the world. I always treat my powerful pawns very well, you know.”

“I don’t want the world.” Fu Jing had given up on his sword and was resorting to trying to pull the vines off directly by flying fast and high. “Just a person.”

“I’d have given you that person too.”

“Alive?”

The smog from the “Master’s” mouth was traveling down into his hand, turning into a long and straight shape.

“Well...Who knows?”

Shu Fu Jing concentrated his qi again, this time into his legs. His internal energies were quickly organizing themselves, much to his relief. He needed just a little more time and he should be able to burn the vines off and escape.

“I refuse.”

With a sizzle and a snap, one of the vines broke. The host plant below let out an unearthly, agonizing screech while the evil man watched the burnt vine fall indifferently.

The smoke coalesced, had turned into a blood red spear. Which the creature—who suddenly didn’t feel human at all—spun in his hand lazily.

“Do you want to know something interesting? Devil’s are extremely greedy and never share. If I can’t have you then—” Fu Jing saw what was coming but couldn’t respond fast enough. The Devil stabbed his spear directly at Fu Jing’s heart, “—no one can.”

The moment before the spear hit his chest there was a loud rumble and a flash. The sound was greater than anything he had ever heard before, yet not deafening, the light blinding and healing all at once.

A great streak of lightning appeared in the cave, directly targeting Shu Fu Jing. It hit him where the spear should have, causing him to fall like a stone to the ground. The Devil screamed in pain at the same time. He caught a glimpse of the Devil, the handsome facade gone, only a warped skeleton with flaky burnt skin and cloths remained.

Gripping his tattered face, the Devil looked up to the ceiling of the cave and shrieked in a rage, “The realms are closed!”

Another lightning came down and hit Shu Fu Jing, paralyzing his entire body.

“How dare you use me like this!”

BOOM, another strike! This time it flayed the skin from his muscles.

“I’m not some mortal’s tribulation!”

BOOM! His muscles from his bones.

“He’s mine! MINE!”

BOOM! His bones were shattered.

“HYPOCRITES!”

BOOM! His bones were replaced.

Whatever else the Devil had to say, Shu Fu Jing didn’t hear it.

His entire body was being torn apart and put back together again, over and over, so fast he only had time to notice the pain of the process and nothing else.

BOOM!

And then, there was silence.