Huang San drew its neck in and contracted its body.
It was small to begin with, and grew even smaller when it curled up, like a ball of grayish-yellow fur.
It crawled into the hole, folding the wings on its back against its body, and barely squeezed through.
The instant it passed through, the image on the screen jolted.
A face.
Wrinkled, like old tree bark dried out over an entire winter.
Two cloudy eyeballs sat in their sockets, staring straight ahead as they drew close to the camera.
The face was so close to the screen that Yang Yong could see every wrinkle on her face, and the grime embedded in them.
Yang Yong's eyelid twitched, and he nearly flung the screen away.
"Fuck."
He steadied himself and stared at the screen.
The face was impossibly thin, like a sheet of paper swollen with water, pressed against the camera.
Her features were indistinct, her mouth opening and closing like a fish breathing.
"Deputy City Lord Yang."
The face spoke.
Her voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping stone, carrying the dampness of the well's depths.
Yang Yong did not respond, asking instead, "Real or fake?"
The face sank a little, as though sighing underwater.
Ripples swayed beside her face, washing out her outline slightly before it gathered again.
"That thing isn't one of my Yellow Immortal Family."
"It borrowed my shell, slipped into the ancient well's seal, and seized my essence."
"My true body is trapped behind the Stone Gate by it. I can't get out."
"I can only speak to you through this remnant of my body."
Yang Yong stared at the screen, his hand resting on the Ten-Thousand-Forged Primordial Furnace. Its rim was scalding.
"What is it?"
"An enemy of the one in Black Water Marsh."
Huang Santainai's