Xiang Xian: “Even if not a Phoenix, maybe a Golden Crow?”
Chaosheng: “Golden Crows have three legs. The Queen Mother of the West rode one to ascension, and there are murals in White Jade Palace. A Huang isn’t a Golden Crow.”
Xiang Xian: “When I found him in the back hills, A Huang was lying in a pile of ashes. He remembered nothing, no eggshell either, but soon after I brought him home, he started talking.”
“Even if not a Phoenix, at least a Blazing Fire Bird of some fiery lineage.” Xiao Kun felt an affinity for A Huang; the bird had an extraordinary aura. Sometimes, Xiao Kun even imagined A Huang as another Xiang Xian.
Chaosheng: “So, this fiery bird friend…”
Xiao Kun: “Blazing Fire Bird.”
Chaosheng: “Blazing Fire Bird, um, is it male?”
Silence fell over the group.
Chaosheng: “A Huang, are you male? Can I take a look?”
“No!” A Huang replied fiercely, feigning sleep no longer. Chaosheng relented: “Alright, alright. Shy? I won’t look if you’re shy.”
“Does your friend Yuzhou know the secrets of the Ba Mountains?” Xiang Xian asked. “As a dragon who’s lived so long, he must be vastly knowledgeable.”
“He said he doesn’t want to meddle in mortal affairs,” Chaosheng replied. “Not only that—he especially hates good-looking exorcists.”
Xiao Kun: “Exactly. Last month when I visited, he nearly turned me away at the door.”
Xiang Xian: “Hey, Chief Emissary, seems your face isn’t the only thick-skinned one.”
Xiao Kun: “Deputy Emissary, why ‘also’?”
They traded barbs with knowing grins, laughing from their easy rapport.
“Dragons wield heaven-shaking powers and live forever,” Xiang Xian changed the subject. “What grudge could they hold against the Human Race? Surely not that deep-seated?”
Xiao Kun and Chaosheng fell silent in unison.
“I remember Master once came to the Wushan Mountains,” Wu Yingzong said.
“Yes,” Xiang Xian confirmed. “I was reckless back then, relying on the Wisdom Sword, charging in blindly.”
“What?” Chaosheng had never heard this before.
“Before Master passed, he charged me to find the entrance to the Wushan Demon Clan Holy Land, locate the Ba She hiding within, rally the Heart Lamp Master and exorcists across the land, eradicate the Demon Seed, and restore peace to Shenzhou. A few years ago, after handling some business in Enshi, I detoured north to the Three Gorges. I circled the mountains for days but couldn’t find the entrance. I was ambushed by mysterious foes—Demonic Qi was already faintly present.”
Xiao Kun: “So? You ran?”
Xiang Xian: “I had no choice but to draw the Wisdom Sword. It left me briefly drained. When I awoke, I was under a tree, stabbed in the side. A passing immortal—or hermit—saved me.”
Xiao Kun nodded, and Xiang Xian continued: “He looked about twenty, bore Samadhi True Fire Power. I glimpsed a Phoenix form briefly, so…”
Xiao Kun grew more puzzled and glanced at A Huang.
Xiang Xian shrugged. Chaosheng asked curiously: “Many monsters ambushed you?”
“Less monsters, more an organization,” Xiang Xian said. “I suspect ‘Mu’ targeted this place years ago. We’re far stronger now than I was then. Searching from the ground was tough; from the air, it’s easier. Maybe we’ll solve this mystery today.”
Xiao Kun said: “Let’s land over there first.”
It was a realm of utter primal wilderness, fit only for “ten thousand mountains where birds ceased flying, myriad paths where human traces vanished.” The Golden Dragon hovered beside a jutting cliff. Wu Yingzong leaped down and blew a resounding whistle into the mountains.
The whistle echoed layer upon layer through the peaks, but no beasts appeared.
Wu Yingzong paused silently, whistled again—still no response, no monkeys swarming to report.
“No beast clans live here,” Xiang Xian said. “But I have a feeling we’re close to our goal.”
At that moment, A Huang on Xiang Xian’s shoulder opened his eyes, stretched lazily, and unfurled his wings. A gentle light emanated, spreading outward. Birds appeared in the sky, descending toward the mountainside.
The birds perched far off, avoiding the fog around Qiyun Peak, chattering noisily—over a hundred strong. A Huang emitted a sharp, brief cry, silencing them momentarily before they erupted again.
Suddenly, all birds quieted in unison, spread their wings, and flew away.
“A Huang’s got the touch,” Wu Yingzong said approvingly.
“They say there’s a deep ravine at Qiyun Peak’s summit, possibly leading to this legendary secret realm,” A Huang relayed before resuming his nap.
Xiao Kun wasted no time, urging the Golden Dragon from the mountainside toward the Wushan Demon Clan Holy Land entrance. Xiang Xian asked: “You tired? Can you hold up?”
Xiao Kun: “No problem.”
Xiang Xian: “If we fight later, save your strength.”
Xiao Kun: “I won’t fight today no matter what. It’s on you.”
Xiang Xian laughed, reaching from behind to drape over Xiao Kun’s shoulders—one arm around his neck, the other under his ribs—in a casual half-hug, hanging off him playfully.
The Golden Dragon flew slowly toward the peak.
“There it is.” Wu Yingzong had the sharpest eyes, pointing to a narrow fissure shrouded in clouds. Dead silence emanated from within, laced with faint, lingering Demonic Aura.
“A Huang?” Xiang Xian called.
A Huang spread his wings and flew from Xiang Xian’s shoulder, uttering a lonely cry—the only sign of life as he entered the foggy depths to scout.
Xiao Kun focused intently; no one disturbed him, as guiding the flying Golden Dragon through the narrow cliffs was immensely difficult. The naturally formed Yixiantian secret realm narrowed to less than four or five feet at points.
Suddenly, light burst ahead, opening into a vast space. Chaosheng let out a joyful exclamation. They had entered the interior basin encircled by Qiyun Peak: layered mountains, lush vegetation, and cliffs dotted with tiered abandoned buildings in Tang style, long decayed by time and river mists.
