Xuan Ming's Doubt

Chapter 19: Xuan Ming's Doubts

The victory celebration at Wind Burial Valley lasted until past midnight.

There wasn't much to celebrate, really. They had merely scared off a reconnaissance team of three hundred demons during the day, without a real fight breaking out. But such was the temperament of the Witch Race; whenever they had a slight advantage or a reason to feel justified, they would drink and feast and make a tremendous racket.

Dozens of bonfires blazed in the open space at the center of the valley, with whole beasts roasting over the flames, sizzling and dripping fat. Bare-chested Witch Race warriors danced and shouted around the fires, smashing wine jars with loud cracks. The injured Kuafu was also present. His newly grown arm was still tender, but that didn't stop him from using his left hand to lift a wine jar and drink deeply.

Di Jiang sat in the main seat, not moving much. He simply watched his people below make merry, occasionally clinking glasses with Gonggong, who sat beside him. Gonggong's face was flushed red from drinking. He was arm-wrestling with a warrior from the Houtu Tribe, and when he lost, he'd loudly challenge them to arm wrestling.

Xuan Ming sat on Di Jiang's other side, holding a bowl of wine, which she hadn't touched for a long time.

She was watching people.

She watched the Witch Race warriors, who were swaying drunkenly, and the pure, unadorned joy on their faces. The demons had come to scout during the day, and they had been tense. The demons had retreated, and they were relaxed. It was that simple. They were happy when they won, and frustrated when they lost—the emotions of the Witch Race were always straightforward, like mountain streams, visible at a glance.

But she was different.

Her heart felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton, suffocating. When Fei Lian had led his men to scout during the day, she had been on the watchtower at the valley entrance. She watched the disciplined formation of the three hundred demon soldiers, their perfectly timed provocations, and their eventual retreat without a scratch.

Too practiced.

Too practiced to be the work of Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

Xuan Ming remembered what Taiyi used to be like—if he wanted to scout? He would charge in directly with his men, the Chaos Bell leading the way, True Sun Fire burning the mountains. The bigger the commotion, the better. Unlike now, where he knew to send small teams to probe, to combine feints with reality, to... control.

Control.

The word itself felt strange when applied to Eastern Emperor Taiyi.

"What are you thinking about?"

Someone spoke beside her. Xuan Ming snapped back to attention and turned to see Di Jiang looking at her. Her wine bowl was already empty.

"Nothing much," Xuan Ming said, putting down her wine bowl. "I just feel... today's events went too smoothly."

"Isn't it good if things go smoothly?" Di Jiang hiccuped. "The demons were scared and didn't dare to fight for real. Isn't that good?"

"They weren't scared," Xuan Ming shook her head. "They were too restrained. When has Eastern Emperor Taiyi ever been so restrained?"

Di Jiang paused, scratching his messy hair. "That's true... That kid used to be like a firecracker, exploding at the slightest touch. Has he changed his ways today?"

"He hasn't changed his ways," Xuan Ming stood up. "I need to go somewhere."

"Where?"

"The void," Xuan Ming said. "Where you guys fought today."

Di Jiang's expression grew serious. "What do you suspect?"

"I don't know," Xuan Ming said. "I just feel... I need to go and see."

Without waiting for Di Jiang to ask further, her form flickered and dissolved into pale blue vapor, disappearing into the air. When she reappeared, she was already a hundred zhang above Wind Burial Valley. She glanced back at the noisy camp below, frowned, then turned and flew towards the void.

The void was as it always was.

Dark, silent, with occasional spatial fragments drifting by. Xuan Ming stopped at the place where Taiyi and Di Jiang had fought during the day. She closed her eyes, her divine sense slowly spreading out.

She was "sniffing."

Not with her nose, but with the special perception granted to her by the Law of Rain. Water vapor could permeate all things and capture the faintest energy residues. In the air, in space, those invisible traces gradually became clear to her senses.

First, spatial fluctuations.

Left by Di Jiang. Violent, direct, like splitting wood with an axe, the edges rough and uneven. This was very much like Di Jiang—he never bothered with techniques in a fight, relying solely on brute force.

Then... fire.

Xuan Ming's brow furrowed deeply.

She was very familiar with the aura of the True Sun Fire. That sense of extreme yang and supreme might, that brilliant radiance, was unique in the entire Great Wilderness. But the residual fire here was not right.

It was yang, yes, but something else was mixed into the yang.

Yin? No, not yin. It was... chaos?

Xuan Ming opened her eyes and reached out to grasp. A ball of pale blue water condensed in her palm. Ripples appeared on the surface of the water ball, reflecting the surrounding residual energy patterns. She stared at the water ball for a long time, then suddenly flicked her finger.

A drop of water separated from the water ball and flew into the void ahead.

The water droplet exploded in the air, turning into a fine mist that spread out. Wherever the mist passed, those invisible energy traces were "revealed"—golden-red flame patterns, dark red twisted lines, and wisps of gray-black aura.

That was malevolent energy.

Xuan Ming's expression changed.

How could there be malevolent energy in the True Sun Fire? And not just malevolent energy, but also chaotic aura—that sense of disorder and randomness, as if it were about to devour everything. She had only encountered it in descriptions of Chaos Demon Gods in ancient texts.

She took a few steps closer and reached out to touch the revealed traces. The moment her fingertip touched the golden-red flame pattern, she felt a burning pain—the domineering nature of the True Sun Fire, even in its residual form, was not something to be trifled with.

But what shocked her even more were the dark red lines at the edges of the flame patterns.

They coiled around the True Sun Fire like vines, twisting and writhing, exuding a sinister aura. Xuan Ming tried to send a wisp of her divine sense to probe, but the moment it touched, it was violently repelled by a ferocious intent.

"Hiss—"

She abruptly withdrew her hand, her face pale.

What is that?

It doesn't feel like power cultivated through practice, but more like... a living thing? Or something with self-awareness?

Xuan Ming steadied herself and condensed another water sphere. This time, she split the sphere in two, one half encasing the trace of True Sun Fire, the other half wrapping around those dark red lines. Then, she began to analyze.

The True Sun Fire portion was clear—stable structure, pure energy. Although its intensity had increased significantly, its essence remained unchanged. It was indeed Eastern Emperor Taiyi's power.

But those dark red lines...

The more Xuan Ming analyzed, the tighter her brow furrowed.

Chaos. That was her most direct feeling. Not simple chaos, but a chaos filled with the desire for destruction, a chaos that sought to tear apart all order. And mixed within it were various different auras—resentment, malevolent energy, and... remnants of a Chaos Demon God?

The thought itself startled her.

The Chaos Demon Gods had long been extinct. Most were wiped out during the Great Tribulation of Heaven and Earth, and the rest were killed by Pangu. How could remnants still exist? And be refined by Eastern Emperor Taiyi?

Unless...

Xuan Ming suddenly remembered something, and her expression turned completely grim.

Unless Taiyi had come into contact with something he shouldn't have.

She withdrew the water sphere and stood in place, watching the energy traces around her gradually fade. Her mind raced.

Di Jiang had said Taiyi had changed, that his fighting style had changed. Kuafu had said Taiyi's fire was wrong, unnaturally hot. And she herself, observing Fei Lian's troop formations during the day, had found them too restrained, too methodical.

If she pieced these fragments together...

Xuan Ming closed her eyes and began to search her memories. Memories of Eastern Emperor Taiyi, of the Chaos Bell, of the True Sun Fire, and... of the Chaos Demon Gods.

The Ancestral Witch of Rain possessed a little-known ability—she governed not only rainwater but also "memories." Not her own memories, but the memories carried by the water vapor in the world. Wherever rain had fallen, rivers had flowed, or water vapor had evaporated, the events that occurred left behind traces in the vapor.

She activated this ability and began to backtrack.

Time moved backward. Back to when she first felt something was off with Taiyi—a few days ago, during the confrontation outside Wind Burial Valley. Further back, to the day Kuafu was injured. Further back...

The memory fragments within the water vapor were blurry, like looking through frosted glass. Yet, Xuan Ming managed to capture some key images:

The strange hum of the Chaos Bell when Taiyi refined the Blood Fiend.

The flash of dark red within the flames when Taiyi fought Di Jiang.

The unfathomable calculation in Taiyi's eyes as he looked at the Witch Race camp.

The images flashed by frame by frame, finally freezing at a specific moment—she was on the watchtower during the day, seeing Taiyi's back from afar as he stood before the Demon Race camp.

The sun was setting, its golden rays bathing him. But Xuan Ming clearly "saw" that within the golden light, there was a faint, almost imperceptible trace of dark red, like ink dropped into clear water, slowly spreading.

She opened her eyes and let out a long breath.

"So that's how it is..."

It wasn't possession. Possession couldn't inherit power and memories so perfectly.

Nor was it a change of heart. A person's fundamental nature wasn't so easily altered.

Was it... corruption?

Or perhaps, fusion?

Xuan Ming recalled a forbidden technique recorded in ancient texts—using the remnants of a Chaos Demon God as a catalyst to fuse with one's own origin, thereby gaining power beyond limits. The price was gradual erosion by the chaos of the void, eventually leading to the loss of self and transformation into a monster that knew only destruction.

Was Taiyi walking this path?

The speculation was too bold, so bold that even she found it absurd. Yet, the evidence before her forced her to consider this direction.

She stood in the void for a while longer, then finally turned and flew towards the Great Wilderness.

When she returned to Wind Burial Valley, the victory feast had already ended. The bonfires were still burning, but everyone was drunk, sprawled asleep everywhere. Di Jiang was also drunk, snoring as he leaned against a large rock.

Xuan Ming didn't disturb anyone and quietly returned to her tent.

The tent was simple, with just a stone bed and a stone table. She sat by the table and took out a palm-sized crystal from her bosom. The crystal was light blue, and sealed within it was a drop of rainwater—a "memory droplet" she had condensed, capable of recording important information.

She held the crystal, closed her eyes, and began to pour all the information she had gathered today into it: the energy traces in the void, the anomaly within the True Sun Fire, the analysis results of the dark red lines, and her deductions.

After she finished, the crystal glowed faintly, and the rainwater inside seemed to come alive, flowing slowly.

Xuan Ming looked at the crystal for a long time.

Then she put it back into her embrace, keeping it close to her body.

This matter was too significant to act rashly. She needed more evidence, more certainty. And... even if she confirmed it, what then?

Tell Di Jiang? That brute would surely charge in directly if he knew. But could Di Jiang defeat the current Taiyi? Even if he could, would the Heavenly Court stand idly by? If the Witch-Demon War broke out prematurely, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Tell the other Ancestral Witches? Houtu might believe her, but Gonggong, Zhurong, and the others would likely think she was being paranoid. And if the news spread, unrest would follow.

Xuan Ming rubbed her temples, feeling a headache coming on.

She walked to the tent entrance, lifted the curtain, and looked out. The night sky was clear, filled with stars. In the distance, the silhouette of Buzhou Mountain stood silently in the night, like a guardian deity.

But this world seemed on the verge of chaos.

She remembered what Taiyi had said that day: "People always change. Especially in the Great Wilderness, if you don't change, are you just waiting to die?"

At the time, she thought it was an excuse, but thinking about it now... perhaps he was speaking sincerely?

It's just that the direction of this "change" is too dangerous.

Xuan Ming lowered the curtain and walked back to sit by the stone bed. She decided not to make a fuss for now. She would continue to observe and gather evidence. If Taiyi truly embarked on that forbidden path, then she would have to prepare.

Not for the Witch Race, but for the entire Great Wilderness.

Some lines cannot be crossed.

She closed her eyes and began to regulate her breathing. But the lump of wet cotton in her heart seemed to have become even more stifling.

Outside the tent, the night-watch Witch Race members were changing shifts, their footsteps light. The cries of unknown beasts echoed in the distance, mournful and long.

The night was still deep.

But some people could no longer sleep.