Chapter Four: The Netherworld
Chen Xuan felt a chill rise over his skin; the scene before him was utterly terrifying. Even when he had recently made the decision to confront the qi cultivators of Qinglu Mountain, he had never felt such intense nervousness. After all, his eyes could perceive things far more dreadful than immortals.
For instance, above the vaulted sky dome hung the great sun dragon eye, dragged by innumerable ancient beings with bronze chains.
Though the current scene was no match for the “Immortal Binding Sun Painting,” it was still horrifying enough: pale fires flickered in heaps, paper offerings fluttered in the air, and lonely tombstones and graves began to emerge, alongside desolate, ancient, dilapidated temples.
A pair of pure golden, chilling eyes wandered within the black mist.
“Those eyes… could this be the Underworld?” Chen Xuan instinctively tightened his grip on the double-edged cold blade in his palm. Pretending calm, he turned his head slightly, unwilling to take unnecessary risks.
He had already acquired a breathing technique for qi cultivation—a safer path.
Besides, he still needed to find Wang Chan.
The realm before him was too incredible, and those golden eyes were dreadfully terrifying. He must avoid being noticed, or some great horror would befall him.
“Whoosh!”
Suddenly, the presence with the golden eyes approached Chen Xuan. The black mist surged, shaping the outline of a monstrous beast resembling a fierce tiger.
“Swish!”
Chen Xuan’s heart jolted; his body tensed instantly, eyes fixed intently on the golden-eyed creature within the mist.
But at that moment, the unexpected happened.
“Whoosh!”
Chen Xuan felt a sudden burning heat in his eye, as if it were aflame, an unbearable scorching pain filling his mind.
[Heart Altar]!
In a daze, Chen Xuan sensed his left eye detach from his body, drifting toward the golden-eyed monster in the darkness.
“What’s happening?”
His mind nearly lost clarity from the sudden change. Was his eye about to be ‘devoured’ by that creature? Or was this yet another strange ability of his?
What exactly was the purpose of [Heart Altar]?!
His vision spun wildly as his perspective shifted rapidly, as if descending into the body of the golden-eyed beast.
“These two qi cultivators have finally been killed…”
Suddenly, Chen Xuan heard his own inner voice murmur excitedly. Then, swiftly and gracefully, the golden-eyed beast’s outline burst through the black mist!
A towering figure like a mountain loomed before his eyes.
This was…
The black-clad disciple of the martial arts school—upright posture, full of vitality yet motionless, with a sharply defined pale face and blades gleaming coldly between his fingers.
“Unlucky little thing, you’re blocking the lady’s path!”
‘Chen Xuan’ stared up at the massive giant, then stretched out a plum blossom-shaped claw, softly licked his tongue twice with etiquette, and politely circumvented the giant’s feet.
A black cat?
Lady?
Chen Xuan was stunned to find that he had not possessed some terrifying monster, but rather an ancient mysterious cat, standing knee-high to a human, wearing a jade pendant around its neck.
Its sleek fur was not pure black, but subtly tinged with red—truly “mysterious.”
The cat held its head high, walking with a proud and elegant stride toward the two already dead giants.
A yellow, stout man. A middle-aged man…
“[Little Underworld] takes attendance; for you qi cultivators, death will come by midnight, and you won’t survive past dawn…”
Like a messenger of the underworld summoning souls, it slightly bowed its head, sniffing the corpses and drawing something out—Chen Xuan guessed it might be souls, or perhaps something even more mysterious.
“Burp!”
The cat let out a satisfied belch, then turned and walked deeper into the black mist. Its breathing was strange, maintaining a peculiar rhythm—a remarkable breathing technique.
From the moment he possessed it, Chen Xuan noticed this unique breath rhythm and committed it to memory.
“Tap!”
The cat leapt nimbly onto the windowsill, glanced back at the giant figure standing inside the building, and said:
“Heh, daring to practice the breath method born from [Yellow Millet Dream]… I’ll come to claim your life then…”
It sneered before jumping out the window. A black crescent moon hung in the sky, and in the distant wilderness, more golden eyes roamed within the black mist.
…
Inside the side room.
Chaos reigned; the stench of blood lingered. Overturned pots and bowls lay scattered, the still-warm food and wine steaming faintly.
“That vision—I saw the legendary [Little Underworld] descend… Is this the power of [Heart Altar]?” Chen Xuan’s sight returned to his own body as he reflected on the experience, his emotions turbulent and unsettled.
[Heart Altar].
It allowed him not only to glimpse the arrival of eerie realms like [Little Underworld] but also to possess the entities within, gaining benefits from them.
This ability was truly mystical.
“Let’s call it the [Mystic Cat Breathing Technique]…”
Chen Xuan quickly reviewed the strange breathing method learned from the mystic cat, deepening his impression and committing it firmly to memory.
After a moment, he had mastered this qi cultivation breathing technique thoroughly.
“She left too quickly. Had she stayed longer, I might have uncovered even more valuable things…”
Regret flickered in Chen Xuan’s heart as he approached the window, gazing out at the empty street dusted with snow. Far away in the wilderness, the black-and-reddish mystic cat had long since vanished.
Mystic Cat Lady…
It all felt like a mere illusion.
“The matters here are settled. It’s time to make a decision…”
Chen Xuan murmured to himself, then jumped from the window and quickly exited the tavern.
First, he returned to his home in Willow Town, gathered some travel clothes and silver coins, packed them up, and left the property deed untouched.
He slung his bag over his shoulder, chewing on a bitter medicinal herb to heal his wounds.
Soon after, he returned to the now chaotic Pei Family Tavern.
Old martial artist Pei Qing, face creased in grief over the violent events that had occurred, suddenly spotted Chen Xuan and gaped in surprise.
“You…”
Having committed such a grave deed, why didn’t you flee? Why return to the scene?
Young man, truly arrogant and lawless!
“Clap!”
Chen Xuan smiled faintly, tossing a silver coin the size of a thumb as compensation, and respectfully cupped his fists.
“Master Pei, I’m heading to Peach Blossom Village in the Southern Wasteland… We won’t meet again in the martial world.”
With that, he turned and left.
Master Pei stared at the departing figure, holding the silver coin, dumbfounded for a long moment.
“You young men—why tell me this? Do I look like someone who would betray a person’s whereabouts? Sigh… thank you…”
Ultimately, Qinglu Mountain was not someone he could afford to offend.
Pei Qing understood the deeper meaning behind the young man’s words: grievances have origins and debts have payers; this had nothing to do with the people here. If someone was seeking revenge, they could come south to find him.
This young man’s way of acting was open and bold, admirable even—hardly the type to betray his teachers.
Pei Qing sighed and turned away. “Old Yang, believing in such bizarre ghost stories, you really are old and foolish…”
At the Yang Family Martial Arts School.
Inside the courtyard walls, women’s cries and wails rose continuously. Some brothers who could not bear it tried to explain, only to be harshly scolded by the junior sister Yang.
One could imagine the chaotic scene inside.
Chen Xuan listened outside for a while, snow settling on his shoulders, but ultimately did not enter.
“…So be it.”
He turned and walked away, stepping through the snow-covered ground toward the boundless wilderness.
He would never return to Willow Town.
Southward!
Junior Brother Wang Chan… I’m coming for you.
You and your [Yellow Millet Dream].
Do you understand?
…
The air was cold, snowflakes drifting down.
Chen Xuan began to run, qi and blood surging within him, a warm aura steaming from his body’s surface.
He charged into the snowy plains, running freely, as if to vent all his strength, like a shooting star streaking far away.
At the outskirts of Willow Town.
A tall, slender woman stood silently. She wore a snow-white long dress, her chest prominent, a long sword hung at her waist, and she wore a veil, faintly revealing delicate facial contours and a finely curved chin, radiating a mysterious, chilly aura.
Beside her stood a magnificent black steed, exuding power. It spoke human words:
“Huh, his qi and blood surge like the rising sun. It’s rare for a mortal to cultivate martial arts to such a level.”
“Though he came too late and the [Yellow Millet Dream] was taken, this young man is not bad.”
The black horse’s body gleamed like black gold, flowing with the luster of precious metal. It watched Chen Xuan’s retreating figure and continued:
“Isn’t your master looking to take on a young apprentice? Let him be. I approve.”
The white-clad woman gently brushed the sword at her waist. The cold wind blew her robes close, outlining a breathtaking figure of slender branches bearing heavy fruit. She shook her head.
“Besides [Yellow Millet Dream], there are others more suitable.”
Far away, Chen Xuan seemed to sense something. He flicked his wrist, gripping his blade tightly, eyes glancing backward.
“Indeed, martial sincerity.”
The black horse clicked its tongue in appraisal:
“I know why you don’t favor him… You dislike that he made more than a dozen strikes, yet only crippled that foolish old man’s meridians and martial skills without finishing the job.”
“You sword officers of the Geng Metal [White Qi] lineage are too cold. But I admire his style. Though his roots aren’t top-tier, they’re decent. Are you truly not choosing him?”
The two, man and horse, clearly knew everything about what had happened in Willow Town!
“Choosing him means accepting the karmic consequences of [Yellow Millet Dream]. I’m not afraid of trouble, but there is indeed someone more fitting.”
“Every choice brings consequences. He will never know what he has missed…”
The white-clad woman still shook her head, rejecting the black horse’s suggestion. She grabbed the reins and turned away, her voice ethereal and distant:
“There are too many destined people in this era; peerless geniuses swarm like fish crossing rivers, countless beyond reckoning. [Yellow Millet Dream] is not unique… all will be beyond his reach for a lifetime, only to look up and admire from afar.”