Zhong Lanling carried an innate melancholy about him. His voice traveled across the vast river surface without obstruction, reaching Jian Chou’s ears. Everyone on the boat immediately looked toward her.

The Six Meridians Divine Mirror flickered in and out of visibility within her sleeve. Her entire standing posture was extremely steady and upright, her gaze resting on Zhong Lanling, unmoving for a long time. She seemed to be contemplating the truth or falsehood of his words.

But the boat stopped in the river’s center according to her will. After a while, she smiled slightly: “When I first entered the Ice Prison, I was fortunate to receive Fellow Daoist Zhong’s assistance. Now that you have confusion, naturally I dare not refuse to answer. Would you please board the boat for discussion?”

After all, they had so many people here. Even if Zhong Lanling wanted to fight, they had numerical superiority and wouldn’t lose temporarily. Because she had companions, Jian Chou felt very confident.

Zhong Lanling on the riverbank was silent for a moment, glancing at Jian Chou and also at Fu Chaosheng standing on the boat. He ultimately didn’t refuse, embracing his qin and transforming into a clear breeze, floating ethereally and mistily before landing at the boat’s prow: “Greetings, everyone.”

Chen Tingyan’s complexion wasn’t good. In his view, Zhong Lanling was clearly an intruder with unknown purposes. Especially the other’s appearance of not wanting to fight somehow made him inexplicably uncomfortable.

In the Cauldron Competition’s killing field, such situations were absolutely abnormal. But looking at his surrounding companions, none showed significant reactions.

Zhang Tang was indifferent to outside matters, and since Jian Chou had made a decision, he wouldn’t interfere. Gu Ling was just a young girl who blinked and looked on with some curiosity. Only “Lihan” on the other side was perhaps somewhat intriguing…

Fu Chaosheng had previously fought with Zhong Lanling. They naturally recognized each other, but Fu Chaosheng ultimately hadn’t delivered a killing blow. Now Zhong Lanling had finally caught up.

Standing in the boat’s center with hands clasped behind his back, he held an almost imperceptible mocking smile at his lips. On the river surface, snow-white fish could vaguely be seen leaping out. Fu Chaosheng glanced down briefly, then ignored the situation between Jian Chou and the others, bending to extend his somewhat translucently pale hands into the river water to catch a fish.

Jian Chou had already faced Zhong Lanling, sitting cross-legged at the boat’s prow. Her position allowed her to see Fu Chaosheng’s actions, suddenly reminded of that time outside Kunwu Mountain, on the Nine-Headed River, when Fu Chaosheng had cooked fish.

Zhong Lanling’s qin was placed flat across his knees. An ancient, weathered aura permeated every string. The qin body bore some mottled scratches, clearly having some age to it. Profound talismanic symbols lightly covered the qin body, giving it an even more mysteriously unfathomable feel.

Jian Chou turned her gaze over and noticed this detail: “Fellow Daoist Zhong’s qin seems very special.”

Special? Many people had said this, but none like Jian Chou had given him that strange resonance. Zhong Lanling’s fingers brushed across several strings, causing flowing light to chase his fingers as if in yearning: “Zhong thought Fellow Daoist Jian Chou should have seen this qin before…”

Should have? Jian Chou was startled, somewhat unexpected that Zhong Lanling would say such words. But carefully recalling, whether on the isolated island in the human world or in the Nineteen Continents, she had never seen such a qin.

So she shook her head: “Jian Chou is poorly informed – I’ve never seen this qin before.”

This answer was clearly not within Zhong Lanling’s expectations, or rather, it was a disappointing answer. He gazed at Jian Chou, contemplating for a moment, then turned the qin body with both hands, revealing its back: “Then have you ever seen this?”

Jian Chou frowned, following his action to look at the exposed qin back— A deep scratch remained on the qin’s back. Shattered wood chips had become splinters, with vague traces of fuzzy light brown still clinging – clearly not any lacquer color, but dried blood from years past!

That was an extremely faint bloody scent… Yet it contained a familiar feeling that inexplicably made Jian Chou’s heart tremble. But this bloodstain was really too faint, so faint that Jian Chou couldn’t capture what was wrong with this aura. Just as she was about to ask, her gaze shifted and she suddenly noticed what had been destroyed by this scratch…

Around this deep scratch were actually several discontinuous pale ink traces. It seemed like the position covered by the scratch had originally been inscribed with some characters…

An extremely uncomfortable feeling suddenly arose in her heart. Exactly like when she had discovered the corpse beneath the Buddha statue at the Ice Prison Bureau…

She suddenly couldn’t speak. She only reached out her hand to slowly straighten the wood chips and splinters around the scratch. After removing these trivial obstructions, the remaining traces could finally be pieced together into some outline.

Gui, He. Gui He… Returning Crane…

Jian Chou’s entire being almost trembled, even feeling a chill slowly creeping throughout her body from the fingers that touched these two character remnants on the qin back!

Returning Crane! This should be the name of this five-stringed qin. It seemed nothing remarkable – just an elegant name chosen by someone of the wandering hermit type…

But she was a disciple of Yashan! Returning Crane, Returning Crane. That deep, cold Returning Crane Well atop Lingzhao Peak – was it still the same as in years past?

Jian Chou almost couldn’t control that surge of bitter emotion. Combined with the subtle familiar feeling she’d sensed earlier, how could she not know this was actually a qin, a magical artifact left by Yashan predecessors?

The qin bore scratches. Covered in blood. Where this qin came from, how it had wandered to the Extreme Domain, no longer needed deep thought.

Jian Chou’s heart already had an answer in that instant. She closed her eyes slightly, forcing herself to hide all emotions deeply… deeply hide them. This was the Extreme Domain – not a place where she could casually expose her identity.

Her extended fingers somehow already carried a trace of stiffness. Jian Chou slowly withdrew her fingers, appearing only somewhat dazed on the surface while her lips curved into a flawless smile, only asking: “This qin’s name seems to have special artistic conception…”

Her heart tightened. Like a heavy stone pressing down, yet not half a trace could be heard in her words. Her gaze returned to Zhong Lanling, only to discover his eyes watching her hadn’t withdrawn in the slightest.

That was an indescribable gaze. Seemingly bewildered, seemingly desolate, yet also seemingly with no place to live or die, vaguely just a traveler between heaven and earth…

He asked: “Fellow Daoist Jian Chou, you haven’t seen this qin?”

Fu Chaosheng had said Zhong Lanling carried secrets. And when she said those words, it was very strange. Now seeing this qin again, she could almost confirm that Zhong Lanling should have some connection with the Nineteen Continents, even with Yashan…

Fiery eyes and golden pupils – she didn’t have that ability. What she had was only the “mind’s eye” that Fudao Shanren had taught her to open when she first entered the cultivation path – the eye of spiritual consciousness.

Her fingertip lightly touched, sending a strand of soul power along her body to the ancestral aperture between her brows. Her gaze slightly condensed, carrying an illusory quality as she looked at Zhong Lanling again—

In this moment, only a thunderous crash echoed in the depths of her mind! Jian Chou could no longer hear the water sounds on the river, couldn’t even hear what Zhong Lanling was saying. Only that chill suddenly froze her entire body!

Appearing in her field of vision was actually a monster! His entire body was covered with cracks, like pieces assembled together, crude and ugly, like a raggedly sewn torn cloth garment.

Broken and scattered, radiating mixed and murky light. She saw his left face belonged to an old man, covered with wrinkles. She saw his right face belonged to a young man, youthful and cold. She saw his forehead belonged to a woman, smooth and full. She saw his neck…

Except for the heart’s position, which seemed to be missing a piece, every part of his soul body, every fragment, came from different people, different souls! Each fragment’s light was different. That’s why he appeared to have that mixed, murky radiance.

What had originally been a dissolute wandering qin master now looked even more terrifying than the Sima Languan Jian Chou had encountered before!

But what shook Jian Chou’s spirit even more was the unwillingness and familiarity condensed on each of these fragments… What were these…

A vague voice emerged from her heart, constantly repeating to her: You know, you know, you’ve seen through it. You’ve guessed it…

But how could she dare listen, how dare she believe! Jian Chou couldn’t even distinguish what she truly felt inside – perhaps ice-cold killing intent, perhaps pain mixed with bitterness, or perhaps a kind of bewilderment…

All emotions churned and stirred continuously in her organs, even in the depths of her mind. Her breathing became unstable, causing her entire being to tremble.

Zhong Lanling had been watching her for a long time and couldn’t fail to notice Jian Chou’s changes. His fingers resting on the Returning Crane qin carried some stiffness, but his voice was somewhat hoarse: “Do you see it?”

See it. The faint light in Jian Chou’s eyes finally dimmed and extinguished. The Six Meridians Divine Mirror was tightly clenched in her palm. As if the moment she didn’t grip it tightly enough, this thing would fly toward the man before her!

Her soul trembled, but her voice was completely flat: “Where exactly do you come from, Your Excellency?”

“…” Zhong Lanling couldn’t speak for a moment because he truly knew nothing about his own origins.

“I came precisely to inquire about this from Fellow Daoist Jian Chou…” Jian Chou didn’t speak. She had already vaguely guessed why Zhong Lanling had sought her out.

Fu Chaosheng and the others were in the boat’s center. He had somehow produced a small pot and placed the fish he’d just caught inside, beginning to cook soup. Gu Ling huddled to one side. Chen Tingyan stared dumbfounded, seemingly unable to believe that “Lihan,” this moody killer, could actually cook soup.

Zhang Tang’s gaze swept across Fu Chaosheng, faintly carrying a suspicious glimmer that quickly passed, turning instead to watch the two people at the boat’s prow.

Since Zhong Lanling had decided to find Jian Chou, he wanted an answer, so he revealed everything he knew.

“I was born in this appearance…” Like a person suddenly awakening from deep sleep but having lost all memory. Everything was like being newborn.

When he opened his eyes, his consciousness was chaotic and blurred. Before him stretched an endless, dusky firmament. One hundred thousand li of evil earth became his bed, supporting his body.

Celestial grass took root in the soil. Rakshasa spirits flitted through the silhouettes of sinister black mountains in the distance. Streams of earthly yin essence gushed up from deep underground like spring water, flowing into his body. Thus he gained other senses – touch, smell, hearing…

Whoosh. A massive, broad river flowed past before him. Countless wandering souls drifted in the river water, while ghostly white bones were visible beneath the surface.

Giant waves crashed against rocks. The churning spray brought a long piece of wood with five strings stretched across it. At that time, he didn’t know what this was. He knew nothing about the surrounding world.

He didn’t know what kind of existence he was, didn’t know where he came from or what his identity was, much less where he was going. Everything was confused. Everything was unknown.

Holding that qin, he felt a sense of kinship. Following the river, he walked upstream for a long time, then downstream for a long time. When he reached a certain place, he saw many black rectangular wooden blocks across the river.

Later he learned those were coffins. Above them was a bridge spanning the wide river. Several figures moved on the bridge, talking to each other, but the river’s flow was loud, drowning out their voices.

Zhong Lanling could only see them opening their mouths. He discovered they were like him – nose, eyes, mouth – seemingly the same kind of existence. So holding his qin, he walked over wanting to inquire.

Unexpectedly, those several people at the bridge head, upon seeing him, were greatly shocked, as if they couldn’t believe their eyes.

“How is this possible…” “Isn’t he the failed one?!”

Zhong Lanling couldn’t understand what they were saying. But when they saw him holding the qin, they seemed to have some terrible memory triggered, showing expressions of terror on their faces.

Several people ran toward the other side of the bridge. The remaining ones surrounded him as if facing a great enemy. He didn’t know what he should do. Opening his mouth only produced strange sounds, but they seemed even more nervous, so he just stood there without moving.

After a while, several rays of light flew down from the sky. Several white-bearded old men stood before him. The one in the center held a jade slip, circled him several times, repeatedly saying “Strange indeed, strange indeed,” and stared at the vacancy in his chest, saying things like “Living without a heart…”

He didn’t know what “living” meant or how to make the sounds these people spoke, so he was very confused. Later several more people came, inquiring about the situation from that old man.

The old man shook his head saying: “Without a heart, consciousness cannot be infused. It’s just a useless shell. If you want it, take it.”

So he was led away by those later people to a strange place. They all called it “Fengdu City,” and during his stay there, the word he heard most was “Ghost King Clan.”

As time gradually passed, he began to speak, learned about time, and chose Zhong Lanling as his name. But regarding his origins, they remained silent.

About four months ago, the old man who had originally taken him appeared and told him to participate in the Cauldron Competition, enter the Eighteen Levels of Hell, obtain the Cauldron Prime, or help other Ghost King Clan cultivators obtain it.

“But I didn’t expect to encounter Fellow Daoist Jian Chou atop the Ice Prison’s peak.” “My assistance then was merely because I sensed a familiar aura from you. Without particular reason, I felt Fellow Daoist might know my identity…”

“Or perhaps, that you came from the same place as I.”

Zhong Lanling’s hoarse voice finally gradually grew quieter. He gazed at Jian Chou. After a while, he continued: “Later I learned that river was called ‘Yellow Springs,’ and that area was the Yin-Yang Battlefield…”

Upon hearing this, Jian Chou finally slowly closed her eyes. This was too revealing, but without doing so, she completely couldn’t stop that… towering killing intent suddenly spreading from the deepest part of her heart to her eyes!