Chapter Sixty-Six: Astonishment

“So it was you who took it back, Master. I thought it had been carelessly lost.”
When Duan Lingqi saw the cloud-patterned deer brocade pouch in Su Yuanbai’s hand, he didn’t get upset about his connection with the innate spiritual artifact being severed. Instead, he relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Since we came out from the Gate of the Dead, our souls have always followed him. When have we ever seen him retrieve this innate spiritual artifact?”
Xi Chunxue looked thoughtfully at the cloud-patterned deer brocade pouch in Su Yuanbai’s hand as she spoke.
“Master possesses powers beyond our comprehension.”
Duan Lingqi didn’t dwell on it. He glanced sidelong at Xi Chunxue with a hint of mockery.
Although Master hadn’t turned him into a dragon immediately, the way Master’s palm had gently pressed upon his head evoked the feeling of an immortal bestowing longevity with a touch—an ancient blessing.
Thus, Duan Lingqi now held his head high. The bit of reverence he had felt for the scholarly human woman had dissipated once again.
“Was it the woman in the Daoist robes who stayed here before who took it?”
Xi Chunxue glanced at the proud Duan Lingqi and continued to look at Su Yuanbai, asking.
Su Yuanbai nodded.
When he took the indigo robe, he noticed the same familiar cloud-patterned deer brocade pouch sewn onto the upper left corner of the long, white cloth. He had “incidentally” picked it up as well.
“A woman who cherishes her treasures so dearly, yet didn’t flay the evil dragon and strip its scales—that’s quite a stroke of luck for the beast.”
Xi Chunxue laughed lightly.
Duan Lingqi sensed the mockery in Xi Chunxue’s laughter. Before he could react, Xi Chunxue had already switched topics.
“You’ve been watching that bronze door all this time. Is there something behind it?”
Xi Chunxue asked.
“There is.”
Su Yuanbai nodded.
“Wait!! Shouldn’t your attention be on him, not on what’s behind the bronze door? Every calm statement he makes is enough to shake the Twelve Provinces!”
Even though Xie Miu’an had already elevated the handsome man in his mind to the level of an immortal who had gathered all three flowers, five energies, and who could survive a hundred calamities—the highest of Celestial Immortals—
The mention of bestowing the title of Yama had nearly sent Xie Miu’an into shock. He couldn’t even process the part about the Dragon King of the East Sea.
That phrase, “The Yama I once appointed did not like me,” echoed in his ears like the ancient bells of a temple, pounding his eardrums.
Duan Lingqi glanced at the aged, hunched Xie Miu’an, then at the white tiger with golden eyes beside him, but said nothing.
“Paying attention to him is meaningless, and will yield no results.”
Xi Chunxue shook her head, gazing down at Xie Miu’an.

“What did he say? Did he utter more nonsense about ‘slaying Yama’?”
Qu Hanchen, just awakened, looked curiously at Xie Miu’an.
Though he wondered why Xie Miu’an had suddenly grown so old, he was more curious about what the handsome man standing afar had said.
“He said he wanted to slay Yama?!”
Xie Miu’an was so shocked he nearly lost his breath.
“Are you truly the reincarnation of the Heavenly Emperor, seeking revenge for the ascended Divine Sovereign?”
Xie Miu’an’s hoarse voice suddenly sharpened.
No joke—this was the loudest he had ever spoken in his life, even louder than when summoned to the Underworld to meet Yama.
His words made Xi Chunxue stare straight at Su Yuanbai, and Duan Lingqi surreptitiously glanced at him as well.
Would he remain silent?
“I don’t know.”
Su Yuanbai paused, and just as everyone thought he would not answer, a rare melancholy appeared on his face.
His blurred, tangled memories held no information about his identity—not even an outline.
“To confer titles upon spirits and gods—throughout history only the Heavenly Emperor and the Divine Sovereign have done so. The Divine Sovereign still sits atop the Three Realms, so only the vanished Heavenly Emperor remains.”
Xie Miu’an stared at Su Yuanbai in horror, his shock mixed with intense excitement.
Su Yuanbai did not reply.
The other shore flowers blooming on the plain had awakened vague memories and underworld powers in him, leading him to North City. Yet the scroll had stalled his progress.
The gods floating in the sky on either side of the painting, and the tortures of the Eighteen Hells, made Su Yuanbai wary.
But who had placed these other shore flowers between Hell and the shadowed mountain of the underworld? The dark passage beneath his cell, the spell of communication with the underworld, ended precisely at this plain of flowers.
As if someone had foreseen his loss of memory.
If this world is indeed a chessboard, then he is surely a piece upon it. Yet he does not know if he is a black piece or a white one.
The soul tied to the earth must be ground down in Hell until all seven spirits fade.
Heaven shows mercy, leaving a thread of hope, wishing you will repay your gratitude and not harbor resentment.
How contradictory.
But whether the hand holds a black piece or a white piece, they have overlooked something important—granting a chess piece clear self-awareness is not a wise move.
Did they truly forget, or is there an unseen contingency?

Su Yuanbai decided not to ponder further.
“Remove the soul-guiding banner.”
Su Yuanbai looked calmly at Xie Miu’an.
Xie Miu’an immediately withdrew the banner that had blocked the dungeon passage, revealing the bronze door at the end. He looked reverently at Su Yuanbai, awaiting further instructions.
Duan Lingqi quickly stepped between Xie Miu’an and Su Yuanbai, blocking Xie Miu’an’s clouded but fervent gaze.
Su Yuanbai turned to face the bronze door. The reason his gaze lingered on it was that he had sensed a life force behind it.
At first, he thought it was the presence Xi Chunxue sought—the beast Bì’àn—so he hadn’t thought much of it.
But now, Su Yuanbai was no longer the empty-minded, cautious man he had been upon waking; his mind was filled with hazy, complex memories.
He realized that someone had likely been behind the bronze door all along.
And that person was very likely the one who killed Bì’àn.
Su Yuanbai placed both hands on the yellow-golden eyes of the Bì’àn relief on the bronze door, searching for the recessed mechanism, but found none.
“The mechanism on this bronze door appears to have been destroyed,”
Xie Miu’an reminded him.
There should have been a mechanism on this heavy bronze door, but it had been broken, probably by another cultivator. Many mechanisms in the prison had been destroyed.
“No matter.”
Su Yuanbai said calmly.
He removed his hands from the relief’s eyes and placed his palms on the left and right sides of the bronze door, his body bending slightly.
Will it open?
Qu Hanchen, sitting in the distance, wondered. He knew just how heavy the bronze door was. If not for being told it was a door, Qu Hanchen would have thought it was a solid wall.
Boom.
A thunderous roar erupted.
Dust billowed, and the ground trembled as if a dragon stirred beneath it. Cracks spread across the walls of the dungeon, and dust and bits of earth began to fall from the ceiling.