Xiang Xian knew Chaosheng was born from the fruit of the Sacred Tree Jumang. Though he didn’t know how Jumang connected to heaven and earth, as an ancient being beyond the mortal world, calling it the ancestral tree governing the world’s vital energies was no exaggeration.
“Could you revive a dragon?” Xiang Xian asked.
“Not necessarily,” Chaosheng said. “The stronger the demon beast, the harder it is. If the Inner Elixir is destroyed, or if it’s died of old age as decreed by fate, it’s impossible.”
Xiang Xian nodded and saw Xiao Kun standing in the deep courtyard before the Daming Palace’s inner hall.
Earlier, when Xiang Xian had fallen here, Chaosheng had treated his wounds, releasing powerful and lush Azure Wood Power. The overflowing immortal energy had made the courtyard’s grass and trees grow wildly, breaking through the frozen winter soil like a forest.
In the center of the verdant forest courtyard, amid blooming flowers and clustering green branches, lay the thing Xiao Kun had severed from the Black-Winged Great Peng Bird’s crop—a beast. It was covered in purplish-black blood, but the corrupted blood didn’t seem to be its own; it was filth from the Peng Bird’s crop.
Its true color was pure white, with sleek fur. It lay on its side, limbs twitching slightly, and magnificent antlers branched from its head like tree limbs.
“What a beautiful deer!” Chaosheng exclaimed.
It seemed to be asleep, eyes tightly closed. Xiao Kun stopped, afraid to disturb it, and let Chaosheng approach. Xiang Xian initially wanted to stop him, fearing the deer might attack, but remembering Chaosheng often dealt with animals, he held back.
“Are you okay?” Chaosheng knelt before it. The Silver-White Stag sensed his approach, struggled slightly, and Xiao Kun immediately gripped his blade. Xiang Xian placed his hand over Xiao Kun’s, signaling to relax.
Chaosheng reached out and placed his hand on the stag’s antler.
The stag’s eyes cracked open.
A brilliant light surged like a tide and spread out.
Xiang Xian, Xiao Kun, Chaosheng, and Wu Yingzong’s consciousnesses were dragged into an illusion—the pitch-black night. A man in night clothes disrobed and entwined passionately with Wan Xiang before reluctantly parting. He dressed in the river channel and straightened his outer robe.
As they were about to separate, the lurking Black-Winged Great Peng Bird was startled. It roared and charged out. The man whirled around, shielding Wan Xiang.
Wan Xiang’s clothes were disheveled; she was utterly shocked. The man drew his dagger and roared, “Run!”
Standing before the colossal Black-Winged Great Peng Bird, the man was like an ant, yet he showed no fear. The Peng Bird tore him apart effortlessly and swallowed him in a few bites. Wan Xiang let out a heart-wrenching scream.
As the man’s body was bitten in half, blood sprayed from his mouth. He said, “Wan Xiang… next life… again…”
“No—Huo Hong—!”
“Pretty gutsy.” Xiang Xian’s voice pierced the dream.
Xiao Kun grunted in agreement, and both were moved by the scene.
Sounds of frantic running in the darkness, falling to the ground, Wan Xiang’s sobs—the dreamlike memory fragments flashed by.
Demonic qi surged. Facing the empty bedroom, Wan Xiang, tear-streaked, hanged herself from the beam, kicking away the stool. Her body plummeted heavily.
It wasn’t over. A demon person with wings sprouting from its ribs appeared in the Wang Family Mansion. It spread its wings, eyes spewing black fire. After Wan Xiang’s suicide, the demon—transformed from Huo Hong—hunted down everyone in the mansion, from Prefect Wang to the stable hands. All were torn to shreds by its claws upon sight. Hovering in the air, the demon let out a hideous laugh, blood pooling like a hellscape.
Amid the blood, the White Deer appeared, emanating soft light.
The demon turned, revealing Huo Hong’s face—twisted and evil, yet still recognizable as the once-handsome youth.
The White Deer simply gazed at Huo Hong. Its eyes held a gentle, serene power. Demonic qi dispersed from Huo Hong’s body. Suddenly enraged, he shot toward the White Deer and collided with it, leaving a tuft of deer fur in the garden.
The illusion vanished abruptly. In the Daming Palace, all vegetation had withered. The White Deer broke free from the Black-Winged Great Peng Bird’s devouring and struggled to stand. Chaosheng hurried forward to support it. The White Deer lowered its head and sniffed at him.
Standing upright, it towered over Chaosheng—a majestic northern stag. Wu Yingzong approached and said, “Are you the Deer God?”
“I was trying to purify the Black-Winged Great Peng,” the White Deer spoke, its voice weary and fatigued. “When we fought in the Taihang Mountains, I was no match and got swallowed. Thank you.”
Xiao Kun stepped forward.
But the White Deer didn’t give them a chance to introduce themselves. It turned to Chaosheng and said, “Until we meet again, Li Chaosheng.”
“Huh!” Chaosheng was surprised. “You know my name!”
“Stay!” Xiao Kun and Xiang Xian said simultaneously.
But the White Deer elegantly tilted its head, stepped onto the air with its four hooves. Mountains, rivers, and seas unfolded in a wondrous illusion, then snapped shut. Both it and the Deer God vanished without a trace.
“Sigh!” Xiang Xian was utterly helpless.
Xiao Kun had many questions, but Chaosheng, oblivious to the mood, waved into the sky.
“Next time, find a way to keep it here,” Xiao Kun said.
“Why?” Chaosheng looked baffled.
Xiang Xian explained, “We still have many questions unanswered. You’re familiar with it—it only wanted to talk to you.”
“But we’ve never met before,” Chaosheng said. “We’re not familiar.”
