On the seventeenth day of the twelfth month, Prince Zhuang went south. 

His Third Highness’s health was poor. He didn’t normally leave the capital. No one was clear on what approach he would take. They only knew that sickly people generally came in two types: either they were frail and anxious from their illness, or they were fickle and disagreeable from their illness. They didn’t know which type he was. 

But soon they found that while Prince Zhuang had left in some hurry, he didn’t proceed quickly. Before he had even left Jinping’s city gate, his journey’s itinerary had already been made public, giving everyone enough time to prepare. 

Officials and merchants everywhere breathed a sigh of relief—Prince Zhuang was a decent person. 

Decent was good. A decent prince meant that subordinates had the latitude to be proper; these two positive qualities would combine, and that would be to everyone’s pleasure and satisfaction. 

“As expected, the Crown Prince has started smoothing it all over.” The ship was rocking too hard. Prince Zhuang couldn’t read, so he was having Bai Ling read all the secret dispatches aloud to him. “His Majesty has made no indications.” 

“I see.” Prince Zhuang nodded a little sluggishly. “That’s not unexpected.” 

For some reason, in a rare occurrence, he couldn’t quite get his bearings. 

Though there was hidden turbulence between Emperor Taiming and Xuanyin, there was also a delicate sort of tacit agreement that he couldn’t entirely get a handle on. 

Zhou Ying was used to hiding behind the fog and seeing everything clearly. Now, pushed unexpectedly onto the stage, he had a faint sense of losing control. 

Bai Ling checked his expression and changed the subject. He said, “The Viscount left the capital with Heaven’s Design Pavilion’s Commander Pang today. The Azure Dragon Towers have temporarily been handed over to Zhao Yu. They didn’t say what they were going to do.” 

Prince Zhuang, who had been resting his eyes, opened them, considered, and said, “They’re probably going to the Land of Turmoil.” 

“To investigate the Liang Chen business?” Bai Ling caught up. “Traveling with Commander Pang and under the notice of Flying Jade Peak, there shouldn’t be any danger on the way. But the Land of Turmoil can’t be compared to Great Wan. The Viscount will get experience.” 

Prince Zhuang rubbed the center of his brow. “I don’t think that General Zhi sent him. What would be the point? Pang Wenchang holds a Heavenly Question. He could contact the master of Flying Jade Peak at need.” 

Bai Ling said, “So…” 

Prince Zhuang said, “He must have made a fuss about leaving the mountain to play.” 

Bai Ling was about to say, “how could that be, what a disgrace,” but he soon remembered what an odd person the Viscount of Yongning was and swallowed his words—this was the kind of stunt he would pull. 

“General Zhi became a sword cultivator beside the Sea of Stars and reached the ascended spirit period in less than two centuries. His heart for the sword is stronger than iron and stone. I’m not sure Shiyong will be able to inherit his Way of the Heart. That kid takes cultivation as play, fooling around with magic tricks…” Prince Zhuang suddenly stopped and involuntarily grasped the snow lotus blooming at his neck. After a long moment, he sighed. “It will be a good thing for him to go there and see with his own eyes what becomes of the powerless.” 

In the Land of Turmoil, a squadron of passenger steamships passed over a still river, humming, puffing out thick, rolling smoke. 

The sides of the ships were inlaid with copper reliefs of all kinds of flowers surrounding two rows of cannons with the heads of beasts. Below were row upon row of fourth-class inscriptions. At a glance, it was clear these were government ships of Great Wan. 

At mao hour two ke, before daybreak, the morning shift had begun to swap with the night shift. Each member of the crew wore armor. There was even a troop armed with hand cannons on the ships. 

It turned out that these weren’t ordinary government ships. They were Great Wan’s border patrol headed to relieve the garrison in the Land of Turmoil.

After Southern He had been destroyed, it became the so-called “Land of Turmoil” and was split up by the four nations—mainly they divided up the spiritual stone mines. The demon-infested places had little oversight—the euphemistic name for this was “common rule.” 

Each country had its area of jurisdiction, with its own courier stations and garrisons in that area to aid the transport of spiritual stones, make arrangements for their country’s traveling merchants, and so on. Outside the areas of the spiritual stone mines, mortals who stayed here too long were likely to damage their health, so the garrisons used a rotating system. Great Wan relieved its garrison every two months.

While the Land of Turmoil was dangerous, it also had many priceless treasures, especially some exotic plants that were said to be able to invigorate yang, which were very popular among the idle rich in Jinping. Merchants who cared for money and not shame went in search of profit. They pulled in connections, then paid to get guest cabins with the garrison relief squadron, borrowing the garrison’s ships. It was a little expensive, but at least it was safe. 

But the end of the year was coming up, so there weren’t many people going out on business. All the passengers traveling with the squadron were on a steamship at the end of the line. 

At the beginning of mao hour, a light went on in the guest cabin in the furthest corner of the third deck. 

A servant as light-footed as a leopard cat opened a window and let the morning wind in. He turned and looked at the bed, where his master was covering his head with a quilt. His expression became exasperated. 

As though it was haunted, a scroll was floating in midair, constantly poking at the head under the covers. 

The head wrapped in the quilt played dead up to the hilt, not moving no matter how much the scroll poked. 

Refined methods had failed to get him up, so the scroll rose three chi and prepared to thrash him. The person on the bed seemed to be an experienced maggot; each time the scroll nearly hit him, he twisted away exactly the right amount. 

The servant sighed, raised the bed curtain, and respectfully invited the scroll out. 

A piece of paper fell out of the scroll. It was full of incomplete arrays. There was a line of small writing on it: A test on yesterday’s lesson. Complete the arrays on the paper—Xi Yue, do not do it for him.

The servant—Xi Yue—held down the invisible dragon-taming chain on his neck and transmitted the test paper to the head of the maggot on the bed. 

A moment later, a warm paw reached out of the covers, blindly felt around for a while, and grabbed Xi Yue’s hem. 

Good Yue-bao’er, do it for me, said Xi Ping. 

Young master, said the half-puppet, this is your lesson. The peak master says I can’t do it for you. 

The young master stayed buried in the quilt, not answering. The hand clutching his hem swayed around. 

Xi Yue refused righteously: The peak master will definitely punish you if he finds out. Get up, quick, young master! 

The big maggot named Xi Ping, wrapped in the quilt, burrowed into the bed, indicating that just looking at arrays made him want to hurl. Beat him or kill him, he still wouldn’t get up. 

Xi Ping had left the mountain, but his lessons had pursued him relentlessly. 

Zhi Xiu himself never slept, and he didn’t let his disciple sleep. Every day around the start of mao hour, he would send him a small scroll. If he was a little slow to accept it, it would start beating him up. 

The scroll explained his lesson for the day and included a test on what he had learned before. 

Studying every day, taking a test every day—it was demented. 

If he had known it would be like this, he would sooner have buried himself in Flying Jade Peak than made a fuss about leaving the mountain. 

Xi Yue couldn’t stand up to his wheedling. He could only obediently do the work for him. 

His useless master, having succeeded in his evil scheme, stuck his head out, rolled over in satisfaction, and went back to sleep. He also had a beautiful dream: it would be good if Xi Yue learned to alter his own arrays in the future and Xi Ping didn’t have to do anything himself. The half-puppet could become a grand master on his own. 

Xi Yue remembered everything he saw. Though he hadn’t completely learned to write yet, he was pretty fast at drawing arrays. In less than an incense stick, he had completed all the arrays on the test paper. But before he could put his brush down, a line of small writing appeared at the corner of the paper: Pour in spiritual energy. 

Xi Yue: “…” 

Oh, it needed spiritual energy, too. He couldn’t pour in spiritual energy. 

So the half-puppet went to Xi Ping with the test paper. Before he had come up to the bed, the even-tempered line of instructions disappeared and was replaced by a line of wild cursive: I knew it! Rebellious disciple! 

Xi Yue’s current puppet body hadn’t yet reached a high enough level for him to be able to use spiritual energy like a cultivator, so he hadn’t noticed the invisible array on the back of the test paper. It combined with the arrays he had completed. Because he hadn’t promptly poured in spiritual energy to stop it, the array paper immediately went out of control in midair and rolled up into a paper sword. A beam of spiritual energy sliced towards the dreaming Xi Ping. 

The half-puppet: “…” 

Pang Jian, who was meditating, sensed spiritual energy flying around next door and knew that General Zhi was once again disciplining his disciple. 

The matter of Tai Sui was still a secret, and they were going to the southern mines to deal with traitors. Therefore, Pang Jian had taken Xi Ping to Great Wan’s border in secret, disguised as traveling merchants, and had gotten a place on a garrison relief ship—it had been mostly Pang Jian who was in disguise. Xi Ping could do what he wanted. No one knew him, anyway, and he didn’t look like any kind of respectable person. 

Though steamships traveled fast, it would still take a few days to cross the Land of Turmoil to get to Great Wan’s mines. So every morning, Commander Pang got to observe a chaotic show. 

The situation between teacher and disciple could be described as “evil advancing a zhang while good advances a chi.” Their struggles were marvelous, well worth watching. 

The spiritual energy in the paper sword had some magic power. It only chased after living things. When it touched the door, window, walls, or cabinets, it gently rebounded. The rebounding spiritual energy didn’t disperse. As soon as it turned, it joined the force pursuing the rebellious disciple. The more Xi Ping dodged, the more it bounced; the more it bounced, the more there was. 

Xi Ping, with his hair loose, was sent hopping and skipping by the room full of spiritual energy. He stroked his palm. A string like silk appeared in his hand and reached out like a snake’s tongue, dispersing three or four beams of persistent spiritual energy at once. 

This was one of the five immortal tools Xi Ping had picked out at Flying Jade Peak. It was called “spirit-winding silk.” It was bonelessly soft and slender as hair. A single strand of the thread was almost invisible to the naked eye. It didn’t hurt to be hit with, but it was specifically useful for breaking up spiritual energy. 

Shizun had said that this thing was like an iron wire lockpick; it was useless just lying there, but when it fell into the hands of a master thief, it could become a magical weapon for housebreaking. It had many functions, which depended entirely on its owner. If the owner was no good, he wouldn’t even be able to hang himself with it; but if the owner was sensitive enough to spiritual energy and precise enough in his attacks, this open-eyed grade immortal tool could go pilfering spiritual energy in the midst of a battle involving established foundation cultivators or better. 

Xi Ping obviously wasn’t very good yet. There was too much spiritual energy chasing him. A dabbler like him, who had just learned to fly a sword, hadn’t reached the level of a “master thief.” He was soon overwhelmed. 

Pang Jian took pleasure in his misfortune, listening in from next door. Hearing occasional sucked in breaths, he knew Xi Ping was getting a beating and simply wanted to clap and exclaim “well done” in admiration—he’d never seen someone sleep in after opening their spiritual eyes; he deserved to be hit. 

Xi Ping had been chased and beaten by the spiritual energy until his head swelled. Hearing a quiet laugh from next door, he was instantly filled with anger. He thought, Laughing at me? Just you wait. 

He shook the spirit-winding silk, destroyed the beams of spiritual energy right in front of him, and took advantage of the gap to pull out another immortal tool—this was a decorative seal made of field-yellow stone, carved with “Hither and Yon¹,” by an unknown artist. Xi Ping had taken a fancy to it as soon as he’d laid eyes on it. 

His first thought had been to nickname this thing the “absconding stamp.” It was used like this: place a seal on Point 1; then, before the spiritual energy in the first seal had dispersed, place one at Point 2. As long as Points 1 and 2 were within one li of each other, this stamp could tie them together. 

When Xi Ping had been going around observing the lay of the land yesterday, he had taken the opportunity to leave his Pang-shixiong a stamp. 

“Since shixiong is so pleased…” Xi Ping leapt up nearly to the ceiling. The dense spiritual energy brushed past him, hit the wall, and doubled as it rebounded. He didn’t even look back as he landed. He stamped “Hither and Yon” on the wall. 

The magic stamp took effect at once. The two rooms were instantly connected. 

Xi Ping said, “Then you’re welcome to share, hahaha!” 

Pang Jian had just been “watching” the fire across the river, not expecting that he would be taken “across the river” by a stamp. The raging “spiritual energy arrows” came right towards him. 

Damn it! 

In a flash, Commander Pang showed that it wasn’t for nothing that he was number one below the established foundation level. He retreated instantly behind the door and pulled out a sword.

The body of the sword hummed as it blocked the spiritual energy. The veins on the back of Pang Jian’s hand stood out. He brandished the sword, and the spiritual energy coming towards him was rolled up. Spiritual essence from the sword cultivator of Flying Jade Peak had a natural affinity for the sword. It wound around the blade, coating it with petrifying frost, then disappeared. 

Pang Jian took a deep breath and returned the sword to its sheath, then saw that at the place where the absconding stamp connected, that scoundrel Xi was grinning at him. “Morning, Pang-shixiong. My gift of peerless sword energy. No need to thank me!” 

Hardly had he finished speaking when the stamp’s spiritual energy ran out and the two rooms each returned to its original position. 

Pang Jian: “…” 

That kid!

Commander Pang wasn’t going to put up with him. He put the stuff inside the room that had been disarranged by the spiritual energy back in place, rolled up his sleeves, walked through the wall next door, ready to take care of that little whelp. 

Xi Ping had his outer robe draped over his shoulders and was having the half-puppet do his hair as he flipped through Zhi Xiu’s new lesson with a show of propriety. Seeing Pang Jian charge in, he didn’t panic one bit. He pushed the scroll forward and said, smiling, “Shifu told me to thank you for your help, Pang-shixiong.” 

Pang Jian fixed his eyes on it and saw that the first line of General Zhi’s neat script on the scroll said: You have become familiar with the use of the Spirit-winding Silk and Hither and Yon, so I have sent you the spiritual energy. If you are unable to handle it, you can go to your Pang-shixiong. 

Pang Jian: “…” 

Before Pang Jian could manage to put a smile on his murderous face, the ship came to an abrupt stop, and the water on the table splashed out. 

Xi Ping deftly picked up the scroll. He heard a quiet roar. 

It was not yet daybreak. The morning star hung alone, and there was still mist over both banks of the river. Xi Ping stuck his head out of the ship and saw an enormous figure in the depths of the morning mist, crossing the grand canal. 

This giant creature was shaped like a pangolin, with a sharp head and a long tail, its back covered in golden scales. Its four limbs glided unhurriedly through the water. The part outside the water alone was practically the same height as the garrison relief ships! 

A group of boats traveled alongside it, undulating as the creature raised ripples. The boats had special fog lamps on long poles that let out a gentle, milky light in the night, lighting up the giant creature’s back, graceful as an unbroken mountain ridge. 

Looking from the ship, this scene was like some bizarre dream. 

Xi Ping heard people talking outside. Presumably it was the other passengers, startled by the sudden halt, coming out to ask what was happening. 

A garrison relief soldier on board responded, “This is Shu’s encampment. You often encounter them herding spiritual beasts here. Our boat has fourth-class inscriptions bestowed by the immortal sect for expelling beasts and avoiding miasma. You’ll be all right as long as you don’t get too close.” 

Shu’s state sect Lingyun was skilled in the arts of controlling beasts. 

Xi Ping had gone with Cui Ji’s caravan to Shu’s capital, Zhaoye City, and all the “spiritual beasts” he had seen had been the size of ordinary cats and dogs. This was his first time seeing such a magnificent sight. 

“You’re talking about pets for entertaining children that peddlers breed, with a drop of exotic animal blood. They aren’t ‘spiritual beasts’,” Pang Jian said after listening to him. “The dragon-taming chain comes from there and is used to control spiritual beasts. Think about it, do you need such a grand immortal tool to bind a cat or dog?” 

A boy could be pleased for half a month after getting a good horse. There were few who didn’t like exotic animals, and Xi Ping was no exception. 

He nearly stuck his whole upper body out the window and asked Pang Jian a series of questions: “Pang-shixiong, what is that big spiritual beast called? It seems to be very docile, how smart is it? Can it reason? Actually, doesn’t Shu have enough space? Why do they have to bring their spiritual beasts all the way over here to raise…” 

Just then, the carefree and content creature turned its head towards him. 

Xi Ping’s eyes lit up, but before he could get a close look, the creature suddenly opened its bloody maw and snapped at a boat next to it! 

Its mouth was full of sharp teeth more than a zhang high. A chilly gleam passed through the morning mist, and man and boat were eaten up in one bite. Xi Ping was taken unawares. His ears, covered in spiritual sense, instantly caught the sound of the big teeth piercing flesh and blood! 

“It isn’t that they don’t have enough space.” Amid the flesh-creeping chewing, Pang Jian stood by the window with his hands behind his back and calmly said, smiling, “It’s that the ‘manpower’ in the Land of Turmoil is comparatively cheap.” 

Xi Ping caught up half a beat late. His hands abruptly tightened on the window lattice. 

Pang Jian held him back by the shoulders. “We are in another country’s encampment, and this is a government ship of Great Wan. What are you doing?” 

One light after another went on in the steamship’s guest cabins. In spite of the inscriptions, the soldiers on deck still quietly raised their hand cannons. 

The spiritual beast, like a goat chewing on a leaf, unhurriedly finished eating the man, then continued swimming forward. The boats followed as before, as if nothing at all had happened just now. 

Only when the fog lamps had gone far away did Great Wan’s steamship squadron blow a whistle and continue on its way. 

“That spiritual beast is called the gold-armored zheng². Every part of it is a treasure. Nearly half of protective immortal tools use its scales. Its flesh and blood can be used as medicine. It’s very costly,” Pang Jian said slowly. “Actually, it isn’t especially violent. Apart from occasionally eating people, it’s all right in other ways. And it’s been two hundred years since Lancang was destroyed and Southern He was dissolved. The Turmoilers don’t especially count as people.” 

Pang Jian let him go. “Welcome to Demon Country, young man.” 

A beast’s roar startled awake Wei Chengxiang, who had fallen asleep not long ago. She opened her eyes, adjusted to the sunlight, then looked through the ragged carriage window at a colossus passing by in the distance. This big animal had golden armor on its back, glittering in the morning sun. 

“That’s a gold-armored zheng. They’re raised in Shu’s encampment. There are many spiritual beasts in this area. Those animals spare no one when they go mad. Everyone take care,” a man said, then looked through the carriage window at Wei Chengxiang. He dragged away a corpse that had gone cold beside the carriage and nodded to her with a false smile. “The Indignant Cicadas have some tricks up their sleeves.” 

Wei Chengxiang didn’t respond—she had a spiritual stone in her mouth. 

The spiritual energy in this blue jade had already been exhausted, and the stone had turned to soft dust, shattering as soon as her tongue pressed down on it. She didn’t waste it, swallowing the stone dust. Then she reached out to touch the damaged array inside the carriage. 

The “uncle” in the reincarnation wood had said that while she had made up her mind to follow these evil cultivators, she still couldn’t be the same as those nameless refugees. These evil cultivators swept people back and forth as if sweeping fallen leaves with a broom; if anything went wrong, they were sure to throw these people out to live or die as luck treated them. She had bought so many Golden Tray lottery tickets without winning a single copper coin, so where would she find the good fortune to save her life? 

She had to pretend, pretend to have backing, to have accomplices, make it so no one knew what her actual situation was. If she didn’t know what to say, she should say nothing at all, and if she really couldn’t hold back, she could secretly talk to the reincarnation wood. 

She was a “guest,” not a believer. As expected, these evil cultivators who called themselves the Exonerators were fairly polite to her. On the ship, Wei Chengxiang had had a single-person cabin, and when they reached the shore in the Land of Turmoil, others slept in the open, while she had a carriage… There were quite a few arrays hidden inside the carriage. 

From what Wei Chengxiang guessed, arrays were perhaps an independent branch of learning. At any rate, the uncle in the reincarnation wood called himself a “sword cultivator” and didn’t especially understand these things, either. 

When she’d gotten into the carriage last night, the uncle had spent half the night painstakingly going through a book before he had a rough understanding of what the arrays in the carriage actually were—there were ones to watch her and ones for attack. The latter hadn’t been connected and activated; they were probably being kept in reserve just in case. 

With so many “eyes” in the carriage, these evil cultivators would certainly test her. The uncle had asked whether she dared to modify the arrays in the carriage according to his instructions. A mortal who hadn’t opened their spiritual eyes, even if they made an array, it would have limited effect. They could only use ready-made ones. 

The uncle had said that with his weak foundation in arrays, he would simply tell her as he learned; he couldn’t guarantee that the arrays would work. If he messed up, there would be no need for anyone else to act; he might blow her to bits along with the carriage. 

“Why wouldn’t I dare?” Wei Chengxiang thought. 

Was there anything she wouldn’t sacrifice? 

In the middle of the night, the two of them, one talking and one acting, had reworked the arrays in a hair-raising process. Then Wei Chengxiang had clenched her teeth as though gambling with her life and put spiritual stones into the arrays. 

Blue light quietly flowed through them. They didn’t explode and kill her on the spot. 

In the morning, the altered arrays broke and gave her two corpses. The spiritual stones the arrays had used had now gone into Wei Chengxiang’s stomach. 

Outside the carriage, several of the refugees sleeping in the open had died. It was said they had been ambushed by Turmoilers last night. 

Wei Chengxiang didn’t look closely at the two bodies that had died by her hand, and she didn’t take the time to sob for her fellow travelers, whose lives were cheaper than dirt. 

While the evil cultivator was removing the bodies, she made the most of her time, leaning against the carriage and conserving her strength. 

She had dragged herself through another day.