A mortal Immortal Road veiled in dust and smoke - The embattled general, his horse vivid against the clouds

An edict sewn into a robe, a single line; on horseback, mournful pipes sounded amid panic.

The immortals were lost in bliss, unaware the sun and moon of the Central Plains had fallen.

-Anonymous

When Xing Yan hurried up to Flying Cloud Summit, Qinghe and the others had already been waiting outside Shangqing Temple for some time. Perhaps because the situation was urgent, neither side bothered with bows or courtesies. Qinghe simply handed Xing Yan a silk handkerchief.

The handkerchief Qinghe handed him must originally have been white, but half of it was now filthy, as though it had passed through countless hands. Xing Yan took it and unfolded it to find five or six short sentences written in charcoal. The handwriting was graceful, but the lines were disorderly, plainly written by a woman in great haste. The moment the handkerchief reached his hands, his eyes fell first on the salutation and signature:

"To the esteemed Xing Yan": "Respectfully yours, Ju Ying."

He examined the contents closely. Had he not read them, all would have been well; once he did, the Four Seas Hall Master, carefree by nature and increasingly detached of late, turned deathly pale!

Leaving aside the alarm on Flying Cloud Summit, something most unusual was unfolding in Jiangxia Commandery, north of Yunmeng Marsh along the middle reaches of the Yangtze River.

It happened in a gently sloping valley before a chain of hills, a place called Muliang Plain. To its south stretched the Falling Cloud Mountains. It was April in the mortal world, with spring in its full glory, and Muliang Plain beneath those mountains was as lovely as a painting. Soft green grass spread in every direction, dotted with wildflowers of every hue. Beneath the afternoon sun, colorful blossoms glittered through the hazy green that filled