19 Inheritance

A swarm of insects, their species unknown, emerged from the flowers scattered throughout the valley. They rose in wisps, looking like strands of yellow smoke. These wisps converged, gathering into a massive, looming "yellow cloud."

If one were to call them bees, their sheer numbers were staggering, yet they moved in absolute silence. Had Yun Ran not suddenly sent a mental message to warn him, Shen Yihan would likely not have noticed them for some time.

In less than a breath, the swarm had fully coalesced. This time, they finally made a sound—a buzzing drone that overlapped like the roar of a crashing sea. Though it was the sound of insects, it strangely resembled a human voice. Not just any human, but a woman.

The female voice, composed of insect hums, let out two soft laughs. There was an indescribable gentleness and serenity in the sound.

"A disciple of the righteous path, entering my gate of slaughter."

As the voice faded, the overwhelming swarm surged toward Shen Yihan. He had already drawn his flute, Luan Yuan, and began to play. Pale purple sound waves wove into a barrier, shielding him.

The melody was stern and murderous. The piece Shen Yihan played was titled "The Seven Demon Kings' Last Stand." It depicted the story of seven demon kings surrounded by human cultivators, driven into a desperate plight, and fighting to the death. It was composed by a musician who sympathized with the kings, feeling that the human cultivators were underhanded and bullied the few with the many. Despite the title, none of the seven kings survived, a testament to the irony embedded in the name.

This piece was rarely favored by the orthodox sects, but after thousands of years, its lethal power was unquestionable. Shen Yihan didn't care for such reputation; he played it without a second thought.

In truth, it was a bit of an overkill. But one could hardly blame Sect Master Shen for overreacting—he had been deathly afraid of insects since he was a child. Caught off guard by Yun Ran’s sudden warning and the sight of so many dense, crawling creatures, he had nearly been frightened out of his wits.

Countless insects were struck down by the sound waves, falling to the ground. Seeing himself surrounded by a mountain of insect corpses made Shen Yihan’s skin crawl even more, and he drove the flute melody faster and more urgently. Once the swarm was entirely wiped out, he immediately set the mountain of carcasses ablaze.

A pungent, oily smell permeated the quiet, beautiful valley, ruining its poetic atmosphere entirely.

Yun Ran’s voice seemed hesitant: "...These insects are excellent ingredients for refining medicine."

Shen Yihan wished he could make the fire even bigger. "What kind of pill requires such disgusting bugs? I wouldn't take it even if it were an Ascension Pill."

"..."

Shen Yihan suddenly remembered something. "By the way... how did you see them?"

Before Yun Ran could answer, Shen Yihan already had the answer in his heart. He pulled out the protective talisman and, sure enough, noticed it felt thicker than usual. He unfolded it to find a second layer underneath.

Shen Yihan recognized it at a glance—a Three-Eyed Talisman.

As the name suggested, the place where the talisman was placed acted as the third eye of the caster. The better it was drawn, the wider the field of vision. A master of talismans could even draw a Three-Eyed Talisman that functioned like spiritual sense, allowing one to observe from all directions.

Shen Yihan fell silent for a moment. He recited to himself: *A-Ran is just being kind, A-Ran is just being kind... Shen Zhuo, don't let your imagination run wild and be self-indulgent!*

After completing his internal pep talk, the Sect Master folded the talisman back up and stowed it away, acting as if nothing had happened. "Those insects just said this is the Gate of Death."

Yun Ran’s voice paused for a moment before resonating in his sea of consciousness. "Indeed. This inheritance does not seem to have been left by the Sword Master of my sect."

Shen Yihan said, "This place feels like an illusion array. I’m afraid there is no way back the way we came."

True to his word, when he looked back, the cave entrance that had led to the stone gate was nowhere to be found.

Yun Ran said, "Since we have entered the Gate of Death, we must seek life within death to break through and escape."

Shen Yihan recalled how he had meticulously chosen his path, only to end up in the Gate of Death. The insects had also said, "A disciple of the righteous path, entering my gate of slaughter." It was clear that the "Founding Matriarch" had designed this intentionally. It seemed that even if the ancient era did not distinguish between righteousness and evil, by the time the "Founding Matriarch" left her legacy, human cultivators had already divided into righteous and demonic factions. The "Founding Matriarch" clearly held a grudge against righteous disciples and had specifically lured them in to be slaughtered.

...One could only say that, as expected of a demonic cultivator, she was truly as willful as she pleased.

Shen Yihan re-examined the terrain of the valley and suddenly froze. *This cold spring cascading down the cliff, the flowers blooming around the lake... why does it look so similar to the Founding Matriarch's cave dwelling?*

He walked toward the curtain of water. Sure enough, just like in that cave, there was a densely packed stone path underwater, wide enough for a person to pass.

Having been burned once, Shen Yihan was much more cautious this time. He did not enter immediately, but instead flew his Luan Yuan toward the top of the cliffs surrounding the valley. As expected, after flying for half an incense stick's time, the summit was still nowhere to be seen.

This valley was, naturally, also an illusion; of course, one could never fly to the top. It was not just an illusion, but an illusion of the Gate of Death and the Gate of Slaughter. In such a realm, one could only escape by finding the singular path of life. But how easy was that?

***

Shen Yihan had no choice but to return to the bottom of the valley. Just as he was about to enter the water curtain, he felt a gust of wind behind him. This time, his reaction was lightning-fast. Without waiting for Yun Ran’s reminder, his Yuan sword unsheathed, and with a "whoosh," he severed something that fell to the ground.

It was half a severed plant tentacle, as thick as a bowl, still writhing.

Within two or three breaths, every plant in the valley seemed to come alive. They grew larger and thicker with eerie speed, then attacked Shen Yihan. Prepared this time, he handled them without panic and soon escaped into the cave behind the water curtain. A massive plant tentacle tried to squeeze into the entrance, but because it was too thick, only half made it in, leaving the other half stuck outside. The tentacle thrashed anxiously at the entrance.

Yun Ran’s voice echoed in his consciousness again: "Your spiritual imprint has weakened since you entered the cave."

Shen Yihan was stunned. Did this illusionary cave also have the effect of isolating spiritual power, just like that other dwelling? But now, there was no other way to go.

He took two steps forward and sent a message: "A-Ran?"

Yun Ran’s response came from his consciousness. "I am here."

Shen Yihan took two more steps. "A-Ran?"

"I am here."

...He took two more steps.

"A-Ran?"

"I am here."

He asked several times, and Yun Ran responded patiently each time. It seemed the connection was only weakened, not severed. For some reason, even though Yun Ran could only speak to him and couldn't actually help him, Shen Yihan felt much more at ease. Perhaps it was because his friend emanated a reliable aura whenever he spoke.

There was no hidden chamber in this cave, which made Shen Yihan breathe a sigh of relief. He had actually been worried that if a hidden chamber appeared, and Xie Xiaofeng’s corpse was inside, how would he explain it to Yun Ran? Fortunately, there was none.

Instead, the voices of several teenagers echoed in the cave.

Shen Yihan’s spirits lifted. He followed the sound and, after turning a corner, encountered several youths. His eyes lit up when he saw one of them—He Lanting.

Since he was here, even if there was no path of life in this illusion, the Heavenly Dao would have to force one into existence for them.

With He Lanting present, Shen Yihan scanned the group and found his good junior brother. The youths were in a sorry state, covered in dust and grime, and two were injured; they had clearly just survived a perilous situation. They wore different sect robes, suggesting they weren't from the same peak, yet they had somehow banded together.

When they saw Shen Yihan, the youths grew tense. One drew his sword and pointed it at him, his voice strained as he bluffed, "Which peak do you belong to?!"

Shen Yihan was currently disguised, but the Luan Yuan in his hand had returned to its original appearance. When Chang Gexiao saw the sword, his pupils dilated in shock.

Shen Yihan offered a fake smile, answering the disciple while his eyes remained fixed on Chang Gexiao. "I am his senior brother."

The disciples were stunned and turned to look at Chang Gexiao.

"Senior Sister Chang, he is..."

"He is my senior brother."

Chang Gexiao seemed to hold a high position among these disciples. Shen Yihan understood with a single glance. With everyone else at the Qi Refining or Foundation Establishment stage, it was only natural that Chang Gexiao, who had already formed his Core, would be the leader. It was likely that these disciples had survived in this illusion only by relying on his junior brother... and, perhaps, He Lanting’s good luck.

"Since you are Senior Sister Chang’s senior brother, we should travel together." The disciple who had drawn his sword retracted his weapon and bowed. "May I ask your surname, Senior? We were unaware of your identity and meant no offense."

Shen Yihan smiled. "My surname is Shen."

The group set off once more, feeling their way through the stone tunnel.

***

Shen Yihan noticed that He Lanting seemed to be injured. He glanced at Chang Gexiao and asked, "How did you all end up in such a state?"

Seeing that Shen Yihan’s clothes were pristine, the disciples assumed he had been lucky and hadn't encountered any danger. They sighed, "We were not as fortunate as Senior Shen. Every step of this journey has been a brush with death. If we hadn't combined our strength to fend off the enemies, we would likely be dead by now."

An injured youth choked back a sob, "Senior Brother Liu, Senior Brother Wang... they have already..."

The group fell silent, the fate of those two implied. Shen Yihan sighed inwardly. The Heavenly Dao had arranged for this inheritance to go to He Lanting, the child of destiny. These disciples knew nothing of it, and by entering, they were merely cannon fodder. If their luck was poor, they would lose their lives for nothing. Cultivators lived much longer than mortals, but dying was just as easy.

*Heaven and Earth are indifferent; they treat all things as straw dogs.*

The Heavenly Dao is fickle, and so is human destiny. It is no more noble or special than a flower or a blade of grass; in essence, there is no difference. Cultivation is the act of fighting against the heavens for one's life. Not everyone has He Lanting’s good luck; for most, if they do not fight, they cannot live—and even if they do fight, they may not survive.

Perhaps it was because he had grown weary of seeing this that he had gradually lost interest in cultivation.

As they walked through the cave, two diverging paths appeared ahead. It was unclear what the youths had encountered before, but seeing this fork, their faces grew tense, as if facing a formidable enemy.

"This... what should we do?"

"Which way should we take?" asked one youth, his voice trembling.

"I can smell it. The path on the left... that scent again. What do we do? What do we do?"

"I smell it too. It’s that thing... it must be that thing again!"

"Let’s take the right! Let’s go right!"

Shen Yihan was about to ask what "that thing" was, when he heard a weak voice from the corner—it was He Lanting, his face pale.

"No... no, we can't go right."

The youths grew angry when they realized it was him.

"If we don't go right, should we go fight that thing and throw our lives away? It was because we listened to you that we ran into it in the first place! If it weren't for you, Senior Brother Liu wouldn't have died! If it weren't for you!"

He Lanting’s voice was unsteady, clearly in great pain from his injuries. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he pleaded, "Believe me... really, if we go right, there will be monsters a hundred times more terrifying than that thing... I can feel it... believe me... please believe me..."

The disciples clearly didn't want to believe him. One of them, mentioning the fallen Senior Brother Liu, began to wail again, looking at He Lanting with even more hatred, clearly blaming him for the death.

"Senior Sister Chang, Senior Shen, let him go fight that thing alone! We are going right!"

Chang Gexiao looked at He Lanting, then at Shen Yihan, clearly hesitant. But He Lanting grabbed his sleeve, his voice hoarse, "Don't... don't go... you’ll die... please, believe me."

Shen Yihan also smelled "that scent" they were talking about—it was a peculiar, exotic fragrance. It was almost identical to the scent from the half-bottle of red powder and the black jar of insects that Xie Xiaofeng had left behind.

He had only smelled it for a breath’s time, and before he could contemplate whether it was related to the poisonous insects, he suddenly felt a numbing sensation spread from his Purple Palace throughout his entire body, and a familiar heat gathered in his lower abdomen.

Shen Yihan’s heart sank; his face nearly changed color. He had long suspected that the insect poison wouldn't let him off easily, which was why he had been so anxious to find a cure. Who would have thought the next flare-up would come so soon?

Just then, the sound of "thump, thump" echoed from the distance of the left path, like something heavy hitting the ground.

"That thing... it’s... it’s coming..." The disciple who spoke was so terrified he couldn't even articulate his words. Ignoring everyone else, he turned and ran toward the right path. As soon as he ran, several others followed.

Only one remained. He looked back, and seeing Shen Yihan and Chang Gexiao standing still, he gritted his teeth. "Senior Sister Chang, Senior Shen! If we wait for that thing to come, it will be too late! Are you really not coming with us? That brat is just a burden, leave him!"

It wasn't that Shen Yihan wanted to protect He Lanting; he had mobilized all his spiritual power to suppress the poison and was now unable to move or speak. Unfortunately, the cave was dim, and neither the Foundation Establishment disciples nor even Chang Gexiao noticed his senior brother’s abnormality.

At that moment, Yun Ran’s voice suddenly rang out in his sea of consciousness.

"Shen Zhuo, what is wrong with you?"