White Fan and Blood Bamboo

Cenji Mountains.

The piercing wind howls, as shrill as ghosts wailing, had always raged here throughout the year. Now, by some miracle, they had stopped, and the entire gorge had fallen silent.

Pang Jian had come here countless times before, but as he rode into the gorge, he suddenly found the place strangely unfamiliar.

He listened closely. There were no birds flapping their wings among the peaks on either side, nor any insects stirring with faint chirps.

Even the chestnut warhorse beneath him, normally so temperamental, fell quiet the instant they entered the gorge, as if it had sensed that something was wrong.

His father had taught him to hunt from a young age. As a seasoned hunter, Pang Jian knew that places which were unnaturally quiet were often fraught with danger.

Remaining on guard, he took his bow and arrows from his back and rode forward slowly, watching for any movement around him.

The gorge was still the same gorge, and the mountains were still the same mountains.

Yet as Pang Jian rode through it, he felt that something had changed, though he couldn't say what.

A moment later, the warhorse beneath him suddenly stopped. Among the piles of rocks ahead, he saw several corpses in strange poses.

They all wore identical black robes, each with a crimson crescent moon on the chest. The moons seemed to float deep within some mysterious dark world, their beauty demonic and bloody.

At a glance, Pang Jian thought of the sailing ship that had fallen from the Upper Realm a few days ago.

The crescent moon on the corpses' chests was unmistakably identical to the blood-red moon on the black banner aboard that ship.

The bodies among the jagged rocks all looked quite young. Some clutched gleaming bells, some held White Paper Fans, and others gripped enormous bronze hammers. All were posed as if sprinting forward at full tilt.

One had even turned to look behind him, as if something utterly terrifying were pursuing them, filling them with dread and unease.

Strangely, none of the corpses bore any wounds that could have killed them, nor did they show any sign of having been crushed by the rocks.

The bodies, frozen in their odd running poses, gave Pang Jian the impression that they had died in an instant and remained exactly as they had been at the moment of death.

It was as if a gust of wind had blown through them, scattering their souls, while some force that held time in place had fixed them where they stood.

Yet the gorge, where fierce winds had howled all year long, was now so quiet it was frightening. There was none of the demonic wind Pang Jian had imagined might be raging here.

Stranger still, the corpses among the rocks had not been torn apart and devoured, despite the beasts that often prowled this gorge.

Everything before him seemed wrong. Pang Jian had no intention of approaching recklessly.

He decided to wait where he was.

"Clip-clop!"

Before long, the pounding hoofbeats of a swift horse rang out behind him.

Pang Jian turned and saw an imposing young woman riding a snow-white warhorse. She seemed to merge with her mount as she shot toward him like a dazzling white rainbow.

Her superb horsemanship and deft command of the horse showed that she was no inexperienced recruit to the battlefield.

Only when she was almost upon Pang Jian did the people and horses she had left behind begin to appear, one after another.

"What is this?"

She yanked the reins, first bringing her snow-white warhorse to a halt, then studying the corpses among the rocks with bright eyes.

Her thick eyebrows, much heavier than those of an ordinary woman, slowly furrowed. Her gaze sharpened, making her seem both valiant and imposing, with a presence that commanded awe.

"They're from the Blood Moon!"

Ning Yuanshan arrived shortly afterward, his goatee framing a face clouded with gloom. In a low voice, he said, "Those Blood Moon bastards from the Upper Realm have always been vicious and bloodthirsty. What did they encounter among these rocks? How could they have died so strangely?"

Ning Yuanshan saw no wounds on the bodies that could have killed them. Sensing something amiss, he told everyone to be careful.

"I'll go check."

Liu Qi, who had reluctantly handed his chestnut warhorse over to Pang Jian, dismounted from his companion's horse.

When Ning Yuanshan gave a slight nod, granting him permission, Liu Qi headed toward the pile of rocks. As he passed Pang Jian, he paused, then pulled a long spear from beneath his own horse's belly before striding into the rocks.

"The rest of you, stay back!" Ning Yuanshan turned and gave them a cold look.

Behind him, several men stared eagerly at the objects in the corpses' hands. They reluctantly tightened their reins.

Had Ning Yuanshan not stopped them, they would have charged into the rocks just like Liu Qi to investigate.

The Blood Moon cultivators from the Upper Realm must have carried extraordinary treasures. If they could get their hands on even one, the trip would be worthwhile. Greed had nearly driven every one of them to rush in.

The men who had been forced to stop could only watch Liu Qi enviously as he reached the first corpse.

It was a short young man with a topknot, his left hand raised high as he held a White Paper Fan.

His right hand was still forming a spell, as if he had been trying to activate some life-saving secret art and escape the terrifying pile of rocks.

Several emerald-green bamboos were painted on the open fan, with a line of poetry written beside the signature.

"Pine and bamboo, emerald vines in the cold; the sun lingers as dusk falls over the river and mountains."

As Liu Qi drew closer, he silently recited the poem. Then he used the tip of his spear to tear open the dead young man's robe, checking whether he had any fatal wounds beneath it.

Suddenly, the green bamboos painted on the raised fan began to glow with a bloody light.

One of the blood-red bamboos painted on the fan shot out without warning and pierced Liu Qi straight through the forehead.

Liu Qi toppled onto his back, blood bubbling from the center of his brow. He was dead.

Pang Jian started, instinctively gripping the long saber he always carried, ready to face whatever might happen next.

The sinister White Paper Fan and the murderous blood bamboo were things he had never encountered before in the Cenji Mountains.

After killing Liu Qi, the blood bamboo shrank back into the White Paper Fan, turning all the other green bamboos red.

In the gray pile of rocks, several vivid red bamboos now shone brightly against the fan's white surface. Everyone's expression changed.

Ning Yuanshan's face was as dark as water. He snorted, "You were all nearly killed, too."

The men who had wanted to rush in were still shaken. At his words, they lowered their heads in shame.

Zhang Heng, who had ridden in on the same horse as Liu Qi, held the reins so tightly that the horse wouldn't bolt forward. He let out a strange cry. "That's downright eerie!"

No one dared take another step toward the rocks.

In their eyes, the corpses among the rocks, each with a blood-red crescent moon on the chest, had all become bloodthirsty fiends.

"Boy, go get me that White Paper Fan."

He Ziren, whose white robe seemed spotless, suddenly brightened. He felt no grief over Liu Qi's death; instead, he raised a hand and pointed at Pang Jian.

Ning Yuanshan frowned slightly, but since he knew who He Ziren was, he said nothing to stop him.

"If you want to die, go over there yourself. Don't drag anyone else into it."

Ning Yao furrowed her brows and shot He Ziren a cold, displeased glare. Then she turned to Pang Jian. "I know your name is Pang Jian. We don't know the Cenji Mountains well, so we still need you to explain what's going on."

She remained remarkably calm. Clearly, she had weathered great storms before and wouldn't be left helpless by the strange events among the rocks.

"I was only making a casual suggestion." He Ziren shook his head with a laugh, not arguing with her.

"You took our money, so you have to help us. Can you tell me what's different about this gorge?" Ning Yao continued watching Pang Jian, waiting for him to explain what was strange about the place.

"It's gone quiet. The wind used to howl so loudly it hurt your ears, but now there's not a sound. Also, there used to be birds on the mountain walls and beasts hiding in the gorge. Now there's nothing at all," Pang Jian answered truthfully.

"Quiet..." Ning Yao mused. "What else?"

Pang Jian shook his head.

Ning Yao didn't press him further. Instead, she ordered everyone to set up camp in front of the rocks. "We're not the only ones exploring the Cenji Mountains. We just happened to arrive first because we were closest."

"Don't rush deeper in. For now, keep an eye on the strange corpses and wait for the other groups to arrive."

They had only just entered the gorge and found a pile of rocks, yet already one of her capable subordinates had died. She didn't dare make a rash move.

"The other six Great Families will hear the news and come, too. We shouldn't have to wait long," Ning Yuanshan said in agreement. "Let's keep watch on these Blood Moon corpses. Once the others arrive, we can decide what to do."

The pile of rocks was right in front of them. The Blood Moon's bells, precious fan, and bronze hammer were all within easy reach, but no one dared covet them anymore.

After they had settled the horses, everyone quickly set about pitching tents and making camp.

Pang Jian kept a blank expression, occasionally glancing at He Ziren, who had earlier been willing to sacrifice him.

He Ziren soon noticed his gaze. He grinned silently and made a gesture as if plucking out Pang Jian's eye.

"Uncle Yuanshan, we've all traveled a long way and need to stop and catch our breath. Sorry for the trouble, but could you keep watch outside for now?" Ning Yao said, looking a little tired.

"Of course."

Ning Yuanshan had been thinking the same thing. He waved for everyone to rest in the tents while he and Pang Jian stayed outside.

"We're from the Ning Family. Have you ever heard of the Ning Family?"

When Ning Yao and the others had gone into their tents to meditate or rest with their eyes closed, Ning Yuanshan drew Pang Jian aside and asked him directly.

Compared to when they had first met, his manner had become much more courteous. He no longer carried himself like he was above everyone else.

"The Ning Family among the Seven Great Families?" Pang Jian asked in surprise.

"So you do know a thing or two, after all," Ning Yuanshan said proudly.

Then, in the tone of someone making casual conversation, he discussed the strange events in the Cenji Mountains with Pang Jian.

From Pang Jian, he learned that not long ago, a Golden Chariot, a huge sailing ship, and a White Tower had all fallen from the sky.

"The Galaxy Alliance's Gilded Chariot, the Blood Moon's Indeterminate Ferry, and the Yin Spirit Temple's Heavenly Spirit Pagoda."

Ning Yuanshan stroked his beard, his brows tightly furrowed as he murmured. Pang Jian's description had quickly let him identify where the objects had come from. He then asked, "Did you see anyone come out?"

Pang Jian shook his head. "No."

"Good. You should rest, too." Ning Yuanshan didn't ask anything more.

After a while, he asked Pang Jian to keep an eye on the surroundings, then went to Ning Yao's tent.

He quietly asked a question outside. Once Ning Yao gave him permission, he slipped inside to discuss important matters with her.

Night fell.

The Fourth Realm never saw the sun, moon, or stars, and its nights were exceptionally dim.

Ordinary mortals who had not embarked on the path of cultivation found it difficult to see their surroundings at night in the Fourth Realm.

In the tents beside Pang Jian, the Ning Family members were all taking the time to meditate, preparing to face whatever came next with full energy.

In the darkness, Pang Jian couldn't make out the bodies of the Blood Moon cultivators. The White Paper Fan, bells, and bronze hammer, however, gave off a faint glow.

Their light fell on the dead men's bodies and faces, making them look sinister and terrifying. Pang Jian furrowed his brows.

He watched in silence. When the bodies showed no signs of movement and the White Paper Fan, bells, and bronze hammer remained unchanged, he gradually relaxed.

But whenever he couldn't help looking again, he felt that those dead Blood Moon cultivators might suddenly start sprinting forward at any moment.

Pang Jian felt a chill creeping over him and couldn't calm his mind. With no other choice, he quietly moved away from the Ning Family's tents and found a secluded spot to cultivate the Pot-Heaven Qi Cultivation Art.

At last, he calmed his mind and cleared his thoughts. As he examined the wonders within himself, he swiftly entered what was known as the "Awakening" state.

Almost the instant he entered meditation and "Awakened," he sensed the presence of "qi" and felt a gentle, balanced, and wondrous current around him.

"Spiritual energy."

He suddenly understood that the reason he had cultivated so diligently at home yet still failed to sense spiritual energy wasn't that there was anything wrong with his cultivation method.

It was because his home lay in the wilderness, where spiritual energy was so thin that it was difficult for him to sense it.

The Cenji Mountains, barely a dozen li from his home, were several times richer in spiritual energy. He had sensed it at once.

Quietly delighted, Pang Jian hurriedly followed the method described in the Pot-Heaven Qi Cultivation Art, trying to guide the so-called spiritual energy of heaven and earth into his body and sink it into the Spirit Sea in his dantian.

In his visualization, his dantian became a "Spirit Pot." With each breath, the spiritual energy around him was drawn into it.

Gradually, Pang Jian not only sensed the spiritual energy, but also realized that it wasn't entering his dantian through his breathing.

Instead, the spiritual energy around him was drawn in by the "Spirit Pot" he had visualized, entering his body directly through the dantian acupoint beside his navel.

—It didn't enter through the inhalation and exhalation of his nose and mouth.

A moment later, as Pang Jian cultivated in silence, he suddenly sensed another force coming from the pile of rocks.

This force was different from the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. It seethed with frenzy and evil, yet it too was being drawn toward him by his "Spirit Pot."

Among the rocks, the White Paper Fan, bells, and bronze hammer held by the Blood Moon cultivators' remains all shone with dazzling light.

"Whoosh! Woooo!"

The piercing howls of wind, as shrill as ghosts wailing, the sound Pang Jian knew so well, suddenly rang out from the pile of rocks.

It was as if fiends and evil spirits buried deep beneath the earth had been jolted awake by some force, crying and shrieking in agony from the netherworld.