Where exactly was this?

Mountains surrounded them on every side, with the group standing in a small basin at the center. Ziqing found herself with the strange sensation that they’d landed in the middle of some remote mountain gully.

The mountain ranges to the east, west, and south weren’t particularly tall, but they stretched on endlessly, ridge after ridge, until, at the farthest point visible, sky and mountain merged together, forming a single long, unbroken mountain line.

The north, however, was different. Unlike the other three directions with their continuous, sprawling ranges, the north held only three — no, five — solitary peaks arranged one behind the other, each taller than the last. The first peak’s summit reached only to the second peak’s midpoint; the second peak’s summit reached only to the third’s midpoint, and so the pattern continued, each mountain building upon the last.

The peak of the fifth mountain was shrouded in mist and cloud, seeming to pierce the very heavens, impossible to make out clearly — and there was no telling what might lie beyond that fifth great mountain at all.

This place, much like Liuxian Island, was utterly still and silent — there wasn’t even a single bird to be seen anywhere. The mountains were thick with lush greenery, nothing but green as far as the eye could see.

As everyone stood there puzzling over their surroundings, Xinyun finally stretched out her body, slowly crawling out from the boat, her hair disheveled, her clothes in disarray, her face pale, breathing heavily. Ziqing couldn’t help but wonder if it was merely her imagination, but Xinyun’s features seemed somehow different now, somehow altered.

Xinyun continued gasping for breath for a good while before finally recovering, looking at Ziqing and the others — no trace of anger, no trace of displeasure in her expression, only a pair of pitiable, delicate eyes brimming faintly with tears.

There was no denying it — this woman truly was beautiful, the sort of soft, delicate beauty that made one instinctively want to protect her, especially now, with that faint touch of sorrow, of wistful melancholy in her expression — it was enough to stir genuine pity in anyone who saw it!

Whether it was simply that Ziqing had never had much resistance to this particular type of woman by nature, or something else entirely, despite knowing full well that this woman was putting on an act, despite knowing full well that this woman was no simple creature, Ziqing still found herself unable to suppress a faint stirring of sympathy.

Watching her sit there alone, head lowered, quietly straightening her hair and clothes, Ziqing found herself growing curious — what exactly had brought this woman to remain alone on Liuxian Island all this time?

How lonely must she have been, all those years spent there by herself?

And yet, the moment Xinyun lifted her head and looked her way, Ziqing snapped back to her senses, quickly averting her gaze, silently cursing herself for the momentary lapse. What was there to pity her for? Sympathy for someone like this was the most pointless thing in the world!

Once she’d composed herself, Xinyun walked over, seemingly having learned her lesson this time, saying nothing further, obediently waiting off to the side.

Jun Beiyue and the other two men had already surveyed all four directions, but had found no clues at all.

“That slow-moving vortex just now — it was the same Death Vortex from the Boundless Deep. But then the boat flipped upside down, which changed our direction — it seems we ended up taking a different passage entirely,” Baili Weisheng said seriously.

To outsiders, something like a vortex would seem terrifying — but to the Jiao people, it was simply another kind of passage.

“So this is where the Fusang divine wood’s purpose comes into play!” Jun Beiyue said, finally understanding. The Death Vortex was merely an entrance — within the Death Vortex lay other passages entirely, and to enter those passages required, specifically, the guidance of Fusang divine wood.

All of this sounded utterly incredible — but then again, this entire place was, itself, a world conjured into being, with the Nanzhao musician as its ruler. Why, then, would he have made everything so needlessly complicated?

Jun Beiyue glanced at Ziqing, struck by a vague sense that the path they’d been led along had been deliberately made this complicated, as though this place were somehow reluctant to welcome them in.

And, moreover, this particular passage clearly had some connection to the Jiao people — could there have been some involvement from the Jiao clan in whatever had happened here three hundred years ago?

If this place truly wasn’t meant to welcome outsiders, then why had the Nanzhao zither master left behind “Parting Sorrow” and the two enchanted zithers, leaving so many clues for later generations to find?

All of it seemed deeply contradictory.

What secret, then, lay hidden beneath all of this?

Jun Beiyue felt as though he were drawing ever closer to the truth — and yet, at the same time, he also sensed he was drawing ever closer to some hidden conspiracy. His deep, penetrating gaze swept over Xinyun, lingering for just a moment before he casually looked away, betraying nothing.

Baili Weisheng knocked lightly on the canoe and asked, “There’s no water here at all now — how exactly are we supposed to get back?”

At this, everyone turned to look at him at once. It had been a while since any of them had given much thought to the question of getting back at all.

And now, that very question loomed before them once more. They had arrived by boat, from the sea — and now, surrounded on every side by mountains, without a single clue to go on, never mind how to get back, they didn’t even know which direction “back” even was!

“Whatever we do about getting back, let’s first think about which way we should go from here,” Ziqing said seriously. Since they’d already come this far, it made no sense to spend the journey worrying about how to return… though, admittedly, she did miss her little Xiong Bao terribly — heaven only knew how that child was doing right now.

Everyone present was the sort who didn’t shrink from a challenge, and hearing Ziqing’s words, Baili Weisheng gave the overturned canoe a kick, setting the matter of returning aside for the moment, and said, “Alright, let’s figure out which way to go.”

“This isn’t the deserted island,” Jun Beiyue said with certainty. Though it was called a “deserted island,” early on none of them had been entirely certain it truly was a small island at all — but later, the Prince of Nanzhao had confirmed it, that the deserted island was indeed a genuine island out at sea.

This place, surrounded by mountains on all sides, this vast and sprawling — it had to be a mainland continent of some kind.

“So they haven’t arrived yet!” Baili Weisheng said, brow furrowed.

Ziqing scanned their surroundings once more, and was about to speak, but hesitated a moment, then turned instead to Xinyun. “Miss Xinyun, which direction do you think we should head?”

Xinyun looked around, considering for a moment before answering, “Why not head north? The north only has the five mountains — sure, they’re a bit tall, but it should still be easier going than the other three directions, with their endless, layered mountain ranges.” Having said this much, Xinyun paused to think a while longer, then added, testing the waters, “Such tall mountains — I wonder what lies on the other side.”

This very question was one Ziqing and the others had already been pondering themselves, but coming from Xinyun’s mouth, it somehow took on a probing, calculated quality.

Ziqing glanced at Jun Beiyue and the others, and seeing them all nod in agreement, turned back to Xinyun. “We’ll go with your suggestion, then. North it is. Up the mountain.”

At this, Xinyun grew visibly anxious. “Miss Han, please don’t say you’re going with what I said — I was only offering my own opinion. I’ve never been here before either. If I turn out to be wrong, that would be a terrible burden on my conscience.”

There’s a saying that the more one explains, the more one gives away.

Though Ziqing didn’t know Xinyun well, this kind of reaction only made her and the others all the more suspicious.

Still, even if what lay ahead proved dangerous, full of traps, they would press on regardless — they had come to find people, to find the truth, and having come this far, they wouldn’t be deterred by danger!

With Beiyue here, that irritating scholar here, and A’Li here too, what did she really have to fear, to worry about? On this journey, she was, without question, the most fortunate person of them all.

“Don’t worry. Even if there’s a trap ahead, it won’t be your fault,” Ziqing said, her words carrying a pointed edge as she reassured Xinyun, then waved toward Jun Beiyue and the others, her eyes bright and full of energy. “Up the mountain!”

Xinyun, once again bringing up the rear, watched their retreating backs, the sinister curve at the corner of her lips growing wider and wider.

“What lies beyond the fifth mountain?” she thought to herself, sneering coldly. “The moment you see it — that will be the moment of your deaths!”