During the Night of Demon Convergence, the beast-sealing formation changed. Nan Yan sensed Ji Yang nearby, but upon opening her eyes, she saw only a white mist. Her vision couldn’t penetrate it, nor could her divine sense explore it. Attempting to speak, she found her voice trapped. She felt an arm around her waist and, after a brief struggle, resigned herself to stillness.
This situation persisted for half a cup of tea’s time. As Nan Yan grew restless, a gentle call broke through:
“Ah Yan, come to mother.”
It was her mother’s voice, so familiar from her dreams. Nan Yan froze, instinctively leaning towards the sound, but was quickly pulled back into an embrace. Though Ji Yang said nothing, Nan Yan immediately realized… it was an illusion.
“Ah Yan, are you disobeying Mother now?”
“Mother’s been taken away. Why aren’t you coming?”
“It’s so cold here. Let’s go home, shall we?”
Nan Yan repeatedly summoned her Buddhist power to suppress the chaotic thoughts, but the voice persisted, causing unbearable anxiety.
This had always been Nan Yan’s fear. The deeper she delved into the past, the more she doubted that her mother’s remains were taken by the Vermilion Emperor’s Jade Palace. The most suspicious person was beyond her reach, perhaps forever out of her league.
Her eyes flickered between clarity and confusion. As the white mist began to thin, Nan Yan’s pupils contracted. Not far beyond the fading mist, a figure appeared in a thorny hairpin and simple dress.
“Ah Yan, you’re lost again. You’ve tried Mother out searching for you.”
Nan Yan stared blankly at the figure. She had imagined countless times being able to nap in her mother’s arms again, the only place where her heart truly felt at peace.
Just as she was about to break free from Ji Yang’s hold, her eyes clouded with longing, and the image of Nan Rang suddenly distorted. A piercing scream, like a mix of bird and infant, rang out.
Nan Yan’s eyes instantly cleared. The mist had thinned, and she saw strange shadows the size of human heads flying toward her mother’s illusion. They latched onto it, devouring something unseen. Shortly after, seemingly satiated, they dispersed and vanished into the mist.
The alluring illusion melted into the ground like water. As the mist cleared, Nan Yan finally saw the true form of the creatures.
They were shell-like sea beasts. Their serrated scallop shells opened to reveal dark, soft bodies with tentacles flailing menacingly in the air. But as if their life force had been drained, they quickly convulsed and died, turning into black puddles.
Realizing it was a Mirage Beast, Nan Yan wondered about its sudden death when Yin Ya’s angry voice cut through—
“The mist is gone! Let go and give me back the wheelchair!”
“Hm?” Nan Yan looked down, meeting Ji Yang’s gaze. They both coughed and quickly separated, rushing to Yin Ya’s side to check on the unconscious Mu Zhanting, attempting to change the subject.
“What happened to my brother? Did he fall for it?”
Yin Ya irritably hoisted Mu Zhanting onto the wheelchair. “He was the first to be lured by the Mirage Beast. I had to trap him in an illusion to knock him out. Those things that attacked the Mirage Beast looked familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Did you see them?”
Nan Yan hesitated before answering, “I think they looked a bit like… Yin Zhu.”
Even now, Nan Yan deeply feared the Yin Zhu. Only they could drain a powerful Mirage Beast’s life force in mere moments.
“Did Shao Cang see them?” Ji Yang asked, seemingly unaffected by the previous awkwardness.
“Yin Zhu doesn’t only appear in places like Filth Valley,” he explained calmly. “The beast-sealing formation was once a cultivator’s graveyard. Under the right circumstances, Yin Zhu might form here too. The mist already has the power to lure out inner demons, and with the Mirage Beast, it’s even more mysterious. However, it’s puzzling how a sea beast managed to reach land.”
Yin Ya added, “I’m not sure either. Plus, this transfer brought us directly to the outskirts of the eighth layer.”
Surprised, Nan Yan looked up towards the small island’s exterior. In the distance, a dreamlike aurora-like light wall spanned the sea, its spiritual light brilliant and rainbow-hued.
This was the core of the beast-sealing formation at sea. Within the inner sea core, black rock islands were visible, each with seven bronze pillars—the prison for Nascent Soul cultivators.
“This doesn’t look good,” Yin Ya, particularly familiar with this area, said. “Like that whale beast earlier, demons above the Nascent Soul stage can’t break through the sea surface. That Mirage Beast was probably early Foundation Establishment level. To break out of the inner sea core, it would need to pass through the Nascent Soul cultivators’ blockade inside.”
“So, could a Nascent Soul cultivator be deliberately releasing these Mirage Beasts?” Nan Yan asked.
As she finished speaking, Ji Yang made a silencing gesture and pointed westward.
Following his direction, she saw a Mirage Beast underwater, its long tentacles dragging the unconscious Si State demonic cultivators toward the inner sea core.
“It seems those Si State cultivators couldn’t escape that wave of inner demon illusions. Lì Chí must have a release token. Let’s intercept him.”
The Mirage Beast wasn’t far and lacked high intelligence. As it was about to drag its prey into the inner sea, it suddenly felt targeted. Its tentacles tensed, its shell closed tight, and it released a cloud of mist filled with ghostly shadows, attempting to block with illusions.
Nan Yan, having learned her lesson, shook her Buddhist beads. A majestic Buddhist chant surrounded her as she plunged into the Mirage Beast’s illusion.
Buddhist cultivators fear neither evil spirits nor demonic auras. Those outside only saw flashes of golden light within the mist. In moments, the mist condensed into rain and fell. Nan Yan flew back, restraining a weakened Mirage Beast with Buddhist mantra shackles.
“Is this the release token?” Yin Ya asked, bringing back the unconscious Lì Chí and examining his palm, which bore a “release” character. “How do we take it from him? Should we kill him?”
Nan Yan replied, “If you kill him, wouldn’t it trigger the Si State Prison Demon Marquis’s divine sense?”
Yin Ya pondered, “Then what should we do? Wake up Mu Zhanting and have him kill Lì Chí instead?”
“Wait,” Ji Yang said, studying the release token intently. He held his palm above Li Chi’s hand. With lowered eyes, no one could see the strange phenomena flickering in his gaze. Moments later, the “release” character from Li Chi’s palm rose, tracing each stroke in the air. As it was about to fall into Ji Yang’s palm, it seemed to touch something incredibly sinister. Its edges instantly burned, and it returned to Li Chi’s hand.
“Shao Cang?” Nan Yan asked, puzzled.
Suddenly, Ji Yang pressed his brow, appearing uncomfortable.
“Are you alright?”
“It’s nothing,” Ji Yang replied, looking down at the unconscious Li Chi. He seemed oddly different, muttering, “There’s only one option left.”
Before Nan Yan could question further, a swift cutting sound rang out. Ji Yang had severed Li Chi’s entire arm. He then tossed Li Chi into the sea. Soon, there was a disturbance underwater as hidden spirit-binding chains ensnared Li Chi, dragging him into the abyss.
“What… why did you…?!”
While Li Chi’s evil deeds made him hard to pity, Ji Yang’s sudden, merciless amputation was shocking and chilling.
When had he become like this?
Meeting Nan Yan’s stunned gaze, Ji Yang stood silently. After a moment, confusion crossed his face. “A State Lord’s divine sense would record the Imperial Heir’s final moments if killed. Anyone who kills him would face consequences. Isn’t it cleaner to let the beast-sealing formation handle it? Did I do something wrong?”
Nan Yan frowned deeply. After a moment, she closed her eyes and recited two Buddhist phrases. “I know this man’s reputation for evil, so I won’t judge whether this act was just. But if it were me, I’d have given him a quick death rather than letting sea beasts devour him.”
“Alright, alright,” Yin Ya intervened, sensing an argument brewing. “This Mirage Beast’s ability to enter and exit the inner sea core suggests it’s controlled by another cultivator.”
“There are too many Nascent Soul cultivators inside. Entering carelessly could be dangerous,” Ji Yang cautioned. “Why don’t we use the spirit-hosting technique from Linglong Jing? We could pretend to be captured by this Mirage Beast and see if it’s indeed controlled by a cultivator. What do you think?”
Nan Yan, eager to contact her uncle, agreed to the plan. However, her gaze on Ji Yang grew increasingly worried.
“My brother will wake soon. Let’s leave him here to watch over our bodies while we go,” she suggested.
…
At the heart of the beast-sealing formation stood a towering mountain peak, unyielding for millennia. It was the formation’s core.
Surrounding the peak were hundreds of scattered islands, ranging from mere dozens of zhang to whale-ship sizes, all within sight of each other. Strangely, each island had its weather—some with constant rain, others with breaking clouds and sunshine, and some with thunder and lightning.
To mortals, this might seem a natural wonder. But cultivators knew these were the domains of Nascent Soul masters. After breaking through to Nascent Soul, their every mood could dramatically alter the local environment.
North of the central mountain, on a black island, lightning flashed and the wind howled. Waves crashed relentlessly against shores littered with bones.
While cultivators on other islands sat in meditation, this island’s master—a skeletal old man—stood at the shore, dragging long chains. His eyes flashed with thunderous rage.
“Ha! My disciples have come for me!” he roared.
His voice raised towering waves, sweeping up countless sea beasts from the depths. The waters around the island turned to a sea of blood.
Yet as he laughed maniacally, a distant zither melody seemed to ripple across the horizon. Wherever the music reached, the waves calmed, allowing some innocent beasts caught in the old man’s tempest to escape.
The old man’s laughter was cut short. He bellowed in fury, “Nan Yi! I’m about to leave, and you still seek to vex me?!”
A fleeing demon fish, in its panic, accidentally beached itself on another island’s shore, flopping helplessly.
The zither music stopped. Its player rose slowly, gently cradling the small fish and releasing it back into the sea.
The old man, seemingly aware of the zither player’s actions, sneered, “Among those still here, you’ve killed the most demons. Why put on this act? Such hypocrisy!”
“This fish lacks spiritual awareness. Sparing one in ten aligns with the heavenly way,” the zither player replied gently, even to the demonic cultivator. “Huo Wuji, now that you’re free—a gesture of the Mystic Ruler’s compassion—cherish this chance at rebirth.”
Huo Wuji laughed uproariously. “What nonsense! Once I’m out of this hellhole, I’ll slaughter 3,000 in Chen State, then 10,000 in your Yin State! But I’m starting to pity you. You’ve only killed some mortals. If Dao Sheng Tian were truly your close friend, why give the release token to us Si State demon cultivators instead of you? Fellow Daoists, isn’t that interesting?”
Cold laughter echoed from the five or six nearby black islands.
“I remember when the Dao Lord opened his altar. Master Yi Gu played with that person, drawing fragrant moonlight. The Dao Lord praised their ‘virtuous duet.’ Now, how times have changed. Only enemies occasionally visit the master.”
“Huo Wuji, why not lower yourself and persuade Master Yi Gu? We demon cultivators aren’t so rigid. After the Mystic Ruler ascends, I’ll commit all five cardinal sins of the cultivation world!”
“The great Dao is merciless; the strong devour the weak. With supreme cultivation, who’d dare speak against razing a city? Didn’t the Vermillion Emperor’s generation sink Chou State and take demon girls as concubines?”
Nascent Soul cultivators’ words and actions aligned with their personal Dao. Years of demonic influence would have corrupted anyone below Nascent Soul level.
Nan Yi remained silent until they finished. “The Mystic Ruler upholds justice in the cultivation world. All actions have reasons. I deserve to be here and harbor no resentment.”
Another cultivator chimed in, “What about your sister? If she’d visit, I’d gladly accompany you for another century.”
Mentioning Nan Yi’s sister drew knowing laughter. Nan Yi fell silent, his brow furrowed with undisguised worry.
Huo Wuji, having vented his frustrations, suddenly perked up. In the distance, over a hundred Mirage Beasts surfaced. Most tentacles were empty, some barely holding two or three spiritual beasts. One listless Mirage Beast, however, had three people entwined in its tentacles—all seemingly demonic cultivators.
“These are my sect’s descendants. Fellow Daoists, please clear a path. Huo Wuji will remember this favor once free.”
His words were both polite and threatening. The Nascent Soul cultivators controlled a specific area around their islands, powerless beyond that range. The others watched enviously.
“I hear this youngster is your Si State’s Imperial Heir. He wasn’t born when you arrived, right?”
Imprisoned here two centuries ago, Huo Wuji had never met Li Chi. Fearing interception, he’d tamed Mirage Beasts to patrol the inner sea core’s outskirts and capture any sightings.
As the Mirage Beasts approached safely, Huo Wuji eagerly greeted them. With a wave of his sleeve, the captives stirred awake.
“Chi’er, do you remember your grand-uncle?”
The captives were none other than Nan Yan and her companions in disguise.
Nan Yan dared not move, overwhelmed by the terrifying auras. Her physical body would’ve been instantly crushed in this sea realm.
Her nervousness was palpable. Yin Ya whispered, “Nan Yan, can’t you act more natural?”
“I thought I was,” Nan Yan replied.
“Natural my foot. You’re a demonic cultivator now. Why are you pressing your palms together? Chanting sutras?”
“Oh, right.”
Yin Ya’s spirit-hosting technique, now more powerful after reaching Foundation Establishment, allowed them to create solid forms from their spiritual energy, enhanced by the Silver Shark Pearl. Theoretically, it was enough to fool others, but the risk was immense. If their spirit forms were dispersed, their original bodies would suffer severe mental damage and prolonged weakness.
As they awoke, the Mirage Beast released them, inching closer to Huo Wuji’s location.
Nan Yan steeled herself, glancing at Ji Yang. He spoke naturally, “Father often mentions grand-uncle. In Si State, none surpass Huo Wuji in blood demon cultivation. How could I forget?”
Delighted, Huo Wuji said, “In demonic cultivation, I’m far behind your father. But Chi’er, your spiritual energy is peculiar. At first glance, it’s indistinguishable from orthodox cultivators, yet there’s an undertone of underworld ghosts. I can’t quite place which demonic path it belongs to.”
Their borrowed forms were entirely composed of their spiritual energy. As a Nascent Soul cultivator, Huo Wuji could instantly perceive its essence. If he said Ji Yang’s energy belonged to demonic cultivation… it likely did.
Right—the Silver Shark Pearl. Without it, she should have noticed earlier.
Ten years of life and death, worlds apart. She walked the Buddhist path, while he traversed the demonic way.