Chapter Seven: A Reunion

Late into the night.

Chen Xuan, weary to the bone, returned to the dilapidated temple, carrying with him a hibernating black bear he had found resting in a den beneath a tree.

Snow had fallen relentlessly for three days, blanketing the land in frost for a thousand miles. Now, few creatures stirred in the mountains and forests.

It had taken him great effort to locate such a massive beast, weighing four to five hundred jin.

“This cursed weather makes finding food out here nearly impossible,” Chen Xuan muttered. Starving and disoriented by the darkness, he had been careless, and the enraged black bear—awakened suddenly—had clawed at his shoulder, nearly tearing away a chunk of flesh.

Fury flared within him. First, he dragged the bear forcibly from its den, then raised his fists—bearing strength over two thousand jin—and repeatedly struck, shattering the bear’s skull with brutal force.

The scene was violent, even exaggerated. Such a fierce black bear, known to strike terror in ordinary men, was felled by Chen Xuan’s bare hands.

Because no blades were used, the bear’s thick fur remained intact, retaining great value both for warmth and for sale.

“Shh…” Chen Xuan began to apply his somewhat clumsy wilderness survival skills within the broken temple, processing the black bear.

Four to five hundred jin of meat was far more than he could consume at once; he planned to carry some with him to eat en route to Peach Town or even deeper into the Southern Wild Mountains.

Only a hundred li away, Peach Town was reachable in two or three days, and this meat would suffice for the journey.

An hour later, Chen Xuan had eaten his fill, savoring the precious bear gallbladder. Some internal organs that were difficult to handle were tossed outside for passing small animals.

With dawn still some time away, he lay down to sleep, satiated.

Suddenly—

A violent palpitation jolted Chen Xuan awake from his slumber. The sensation was oppressive, as if a massive stone pressed upon his chest, provoking nausea.

“What’s going on?”

Tensing his body, Chen Xuan stepped outside the temple to survey his surroundings. In the pitch-black southern darkness—where one’s hand could not be seen—two golden lanterns appeared, immense and terrifying, almost suffocating in their presence.

Far away, over a hundred li distant in the night sky, a pair of golden orbs hovered like colossal beasts patrolling the deep ocean. They passed overhead with an overwhelming aura that even reached Chen Xuan’s location.

It was impossible to fathom the creature’s true size, given the enormity of its eyes.

“An ancient beast from the Southern Wild Mountains?” Chen Xuan speculated. Perhaps a high-level winged being that blots out the sun and moon as it flies, or maybe a towering prehistoric monster rising on two legs from the mountain range.

“Is that… a king?”

Chen Xuan’s gaze sharpened as a golden character meaning “King” shimmered briefly above the giant eyes, as if emblazoned on the beast’s forehead, then vanished.

Soon after, the colossal golden-eyed creature pressed onward through the darkness, disappearing into the night.

“In three years, I’ve never seen such things. Yet in just a few days—Qi cultivators, the Netherworld, colossal beings traveling by night…”

Chen Xuan stared southward, a shadow falling over his heart.

He had no idea what was unfolding in the Southern Wild Mountains, nor whether pressing further south was wise.

But soon, he steeled his resolve.

If even Wang Chan had gone, why should he falter?

A martial artist must uphold the principle of repaying kindness with kindness, and grievances with grievances!

With that, Chen Xuan returned to the broken temple and fell asleep anew.

...

At dawn.

Wrapped in the warm black bear fur, Chen Xuan packed the remaining dried bear meat and tied two bear paws to his chest, then began his journey southward.

The heavy snow lessened, and the distant horizon was clearing, with sunbeams piercing the clouds.

The snow on the path was knee-deep and difficult to traverse, but his constitution was far beyond that of ordinary men. Bounding forward like a dragon soaring and a tiger leaping, he covered dozens of li that day.

By afternoon, Chen Xuan left the boundaries of Willow Town.

A towering ancient Chu Kingdom boundary marker stood at the border between Willow Town and Peach Town, beneath which he rested for the night.

At dusk the next day, Chen Xuan arrived at the long-abandoned center of Peach Town.

“Huh, that smell…”

He caught a faint scent of blood in the air and gazed toward the town named after the peach.

Three years ago, emboldened by youth and fierce temper, he had boldly entered to stay the night, encountering no strange occurrences.

But today, the scene was starkly different.

Dozens of wooden stakes, each several zhang tall, were driven into the open ground outside the town. Atop them hung mutilated corpses, some dried, others still bleeding.

“These people... are all outsider Qi cultivators!” Chen Xuan’s heart jolted, chills rising. “Better to take a detour.”

Unaware of what horrors had transpired here, he deemed it too dangerous to stay, deciding instead to continue sleeping outdoors in the snow.

At that moment—

Chen Xuan’s eyes suddenly fixed on a familiar figure among the stakes.

“How could it be him?”

At the very center of the stakes hung an elderly man in black, aged fifty or sixty, with white hair and a goat-like beard, small and frail.

It was Chu Huogun—the old man Chen Xuan had met in the broken temple just days before!

Chen Xuan’s gaze darkened. After a long silence, he circled Peach Town, searching for anomalies, but found none.

Finally, he cautiously approached the town’s ford.

“Old Master Chu, are you dead?”

Chen Xuan looked up and called out.

Chu Huogun hung face-up, his neck shackled by heavy chains, his condition pitiful. One arm was torn off; both legs severed cleanly by sharp weapons, blood dripping slowly. His only remaining hand clutched a wine gourd once held by his beautiful granddaughter, Chu Qingling.

“Crack!”

Hearing movement, Chu Huogun slowly turned his neck like a rusted machine. His eye sockets were empty black holes.

“Brother Wang… I—I told you, this path is perilous. Turn back…”

From those hollow sockets, wriggling black beetles spilled forth.

He wasn’t fully dead? Eyeballs gone, yet still recognized someone?

Chen Xuan clicked his tongue, incredulous. As expected of a Qi cultivator—life force was terrifyingly tenacious.

“Old Master Chu, what happened here?”

Chen Xuan began to ask, but suddenly turned his head sharply, frowning at the cold stillness of Peach Town.

“Rumble…”

Sounds of wheels rolling echoed from within the town, and a great flock of startled wild birds exploded into the sky.

A bright yellow flame gradually ignited in the town center.

Chu Huogun panicked: “You’ve disturbed that thing in the town.”

Chen Xuan’s voice dropped: “Old Master Chu, can I save you?”

Chu Huogun coughed, troubled: “Your strength is weak. If you try to save me and get trapped here, my heart cannot rest…”

“Fine, I’ll leave!”

Chen Xuan nodded decisively, then turned and fled swiftly, like a gale racing away.

An immense and eerie aura rose from the small town.

Startled by Chen Xuan’s resolve, Chu Huogun cursed himself in regret and shouted:

“Hey, Brother Wang, just be polite a moment! Hurry back and carry me away—Brother Wang! Wang Chan! Hey!”

But Chen Xuan was already over a hundred meters away when he heard the frantic calls and glanced back in astonishment.

Polite? Didn’t this old man know his life was nearly over? Why pretend to be polite? When time is tight, straightforward action is best—this was no time for pretense!

Chen Xuan had approached Peach Town with the intent to save him.

Now, Chu Huogun’s heart was full of remorse as he watched Chen Xuan disappear, muttering: “Hey! Hey! Hey!”

Behind him, the flames grew ever brighter, threatening to set the entire town ablaze.

“Rumble…”

Amidst the towering flames, a bronze chariot burst forth from the town. On it burned an incense burner, flames bright and smoke ethereal.

The charioteer wore bronze armor, with a face both human and not—gaunt and iron-blue. Raising a bronze halberd, the four golden eyes gleamed with divine radiance.

Behind him, many small masked figures carried banners, beat drums and gongs, staggering as they raced across the snow—a bizarre and grotesque spectacle.

“What on earth are these creatures?” Chen Xuan stared, dumbfounded.

In the next instant, the four-eyed deity on the chariot raised his halberd and swiftly severed Chu Huogun’s head.

Thud!