Qing Xuzi sat at the entrance to the Scripture Pavilion without moving.
The sound of flowing water beneath the ground continued, low and lingering, as though something were churning in the depths.
He held his fly whisk, its tassels resting on his knees without a single strand stirring.
Ling Xuzi approached from behind, bent close, and lowered his voice.
"Martial Uncle, should we notify Jade Void Palace and Biyou Palace?"
Qing Xuzi did not answer.
Ling Xuzi waited a breath, then spoke again.
"Elder Qiu of Jade Void Palace sent a letter three months ago, asking about an anomaly he sensed in the Eastern Wasteland's earth veins. Biyou Palace acted even earlier. They sent people to wait outside the mountain gate six months ago."
"How long have they been here?"
"Biyou Palace's people have been staying at the foot of the mountain for twenty-six days."
Qing Xuzi switched his fly whisk to his other hand.
"Have them come up."
Ling Xuzi froze for a moment.
"Martial Uncle, now?"
"Now." Qing Xuzi stood and smoothed the creases in his Daoist robe. "Did you think those two groups waited at the foot of the mountain all this time just to watch the Great Void Bell ring on its own?"
Ling Xuzi said nothing more and turned toward the mountain gate.
Qing Xuzi looked toward the bamboo grove on the rear mountain again.
There was no movement deep within the grove, but he knew what was happening beneath it.
The Nine Netherworlds Spring.
He had cultivated in Taishang Palace for seven hundred years and consulted countless ancient texts. He knew that dark river existed, but no palace master had ever managed to take even a single step toward it.
A marrow-chilling pressure filled the earth veins surrounding the dark river. Any cultivator whose