Chapter 75

After the patrol ended, the sky had already begun to darken.

The Devil’s Grotto was all jagged yardang formations. One side of the underground city was embedded in a sheer cliff of yellow sand, standing tall amid the vast Gobi Desert. The terrain’s concealment was its greatest advantage—no one could possibly discover the entrance to the Underground Palace. The only drawback was the scorching sunset over the desert. Even from the precarious cliffside, and even wearing a veil hat, anyone who gazed directly at the fiery dusk would feel the illusion that their entire body was about to burst into flames.

Ruan Xuezong released the Black Eagle.

Eagles were renowned for their keen eyesight. Soaring high in the sky, it could spot prey on the ground with crystal clarity, missing no trace—not the slither of a grass snake, nor the faint mark left by a passing wild goose. Its vision was sharper than any human’s.

The Black Eagle returned and perched on Ruan Xuezong’s shoulder, signaling that everything was normal, with no anomalies.

This Black Eagle, when in the Demonic Sect’s hands, had been rewarded with fresh human flesh after every mission—anything even slightly spoiled was beneath it. But now under Ruan Xuezong’s control, its reward for completing tasks was a dead rat caught by a player, like it or not.

The Black Eagle seethed inwardly but dared not rebel. Ruan Xuezong’s methods of taming it were brutally efficient. Even if it hadn’t forgotten its former master on an instinctive level, its spirit had long since submitted.

Noticing Eve staring at the Black Eagle, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and astonishment, Ruan Xuezong asked her, “What’s wrong?”

Eve hesitated for a beat before slowly lowering her head. “Nothing. It’s just… I’ve never seen such an obedient eagle before.”

As the sun sank below the horizon.

The desert turned into a frozen wasteland. In the center of the Underground Palace’s halls, a bonfire blazed, crackling and popping as it burned. Everyone gathered around it in peaceful harmony until the flames died down, and they dispersed to their rest.

Once a ruin, this Underground Palace now resembled a Peach Blossom Paradise. Peaceful smiles lit every face, as if strife, betrayal, and resentment had never existed.

Leader Yan seemed to be a remarkably attentive woman. On the day Ruan Xuezong had arrived, she had been icy and sharp-tongued, but now she approached him proactively with several thick woolen blankets, her demeanor considerably softened.

In the firelight, the weathered lines of her sand-blasted face softened, revealing a touch of delicate beauty.

“Cover up,” she said gently. “Don’t catch a chill.”

Ruan Xuezong passed one of the blankets to Wu Yao. “Cover up.” The boy lacked internal energy to protect himself, and his refined features looked exceedingly pale. He needed the thick blanket more than Ruan Xuezong did. The boy’s golden eyes stared blankly into the fire, lost in thought.

Five-Colored Mottled Black found the sight profoundly moving.

Wu Yao’s character model was exquisitely crafted—white hair, golden pupils, a slender and frail teenage build, dressed in green robes denoting low rarity. His personality bordered on unhinged, and he held a high status, yet his fate was tragic. As the Holy Son of Chasang, now that his kingdom was under the Demonic Sect’s manipulation, his life hung by a thread. He could only hide here, clinging to survival. He was the perfect image of a bewildered youth tormented by the Demonic Sect—utterly heartbreaking.

Five-Colored Mottled Black screamed internally: Damn those Demonic Sect bastards for being so outrageous! He desperately wanted to mail death threats to the game planners!

Ruan Xuezong nodded in deep agreement. He tapped on System 007.

“In the original plotline, what was Wu Yao’s fate?”

He knew System 007 wouldn’t reveal the future directly, but Ruan Xuezong was adept at reading between the lines. A character’s destiny could hint at the story’s direction.

【007: In the original story, there were two endings for this character. Ending A: “Father and Son Perish Together.” The Holy Son is bitten to death by a venomous snake arranged by Du Qing’e. After his death, the Demonic Sect turns him into a mindless puppet. With both father and son under her control, Du Qing’e seizes Chasang legitimately. Ending B: “Discarded Like a Broken Shoe.” The Demonic Sect learns the secret that the Chasang Holy Son lineage has guarded for generations. To them, Wu Yao holds no value as a puppet and is killed outright… Now, thanks to you teaming up with the players, there’s a new Ending C: Wu Yao survives but is hunted, the Chasang King is buried, and the Holy Son can still protect that secret…】

Every emergence of Ending C meant the plot was veering further from the original script. This gave System 007 a massive headache—even though, as the game’s will incarnate, it had no physical form or hair.

But in game development circles, there was a classic cop-out: “As long as the plot doesn’t crash, ignore the warnings. Wait for a full error before worrying.”

It decided to turn a blind eye. After all, it was the game will! As long as the game stayed popular, that was enough!

Ruan Xuezong encountered that word again: secret.

The campfire under the night sky was perfect for conversation. He turned to Wu Yao. “The Chasang Holy Son guards a secret handed down through generations. What kind of secret is it? That might be why the Demonic Sect targeted you and the king.”

Wu Yao froze, his body trembling slightly beneath the blanket. He murmured, “Agu Ling, I like you a lot, but I can’t say.”

Ruan Xuezong didn’t mind. He handed over Qu Wangshu’s Relic and recounted the tale of Peacock Manor in distant Jinling City.

【Congratulations to all young heroes! The serendipitous quest “Qu Wangshu’s Origins” has been completed.】

Wu Yao was blind, but as he held the strange emblem in his palm and traced its inscription, he read the words aloud. Suddenly, he fell silent.

His voice grew heavy. “A few months ago, I visited Jinling. There, I heard about Peacock Manor’s grand birthday celebration, Second Miss Qu’s renowned beauty, and how she stubbornly died for the Demonic Sect. I even heard how the manor’s guests were slaughtered in a bloodbath. Back then, I thought coldly that the Central Plains folk could kill ten thousand among themselves for all I cared—it had nothing to do with me… I never imagined she was my sister… I thought it was a story unrelated to me…”

Fate was like a mocking hand. Once the truth peeled back, he realized the green robe symbolizing his role as Chasang Holy Son was crawling with lice.

His golden eyes blinked, a single tear welling up—quickly evaporated by the bonfire’s heat.

That night passed dreamless, yet a story had unfolded.

The next day, someone from the Underground Palace went missing: a Western Regions youth named Kanbei, skilled in embroidery and weaving.

His roommates rushed frantically to Leader Shi. “Leader, Kanbei’s gone! His pillow’s cold, and all his clothes and belongings are missing.”

“What!?” Shi Yan hurried to the remotest palace hall and confirmed it. Kanbei’s bedding was impeccably neat, without a trace of disorder. The carved wooden cabinet stood empty—clothes, money, everything gone. It looked exactly like someone who had slipped away without a word.

“What’s going on!?” Shi Yan exclaimed, stunned.

The others explained, “Leader, you don’t know, but yesterday a new wanderer arrived. He sat with Kanbei, raving about how wonderful the outside world was. And last night, Kanbei vanished—packing his things so neatly. He must not plan to come back.”

“The desert’s so dangerous! He’s not even of age, has no martial arts—he won’t survive!” The others fretted. Some even cursed outright: “That wanderer’s a real menace!”

Thus, Five-Colored Mottled Black was dragged before the crowd. He was equally baffled at first. “Huh? He ran away?”

No way, right?

Had an NPC really been swayed by him and run off into the wilds overnight?

Fragments flashed through Five-Colored Mottled Black’s mind: Kanbei smiling as he said, “You wanderers have it so free—going wherever you please.” “A spur-of-the-moment journey? How enviable. If I ever get the chance…” “I don’t just want to see towns; I want to visit the Central Plains too. They say it has all sorts of Buddhist temples. I want to see them. There’s that poem: ‘Four hundred eighty temples of the Southern Dynasties, how many towers in the misty rain?’ Even if the dynasty has changed, the Central Plains temples must still flourish…”

The more Five-Colored Mottled Black recalled, the more horrified his expression grew, his scalp prickling. It seemed he really had talked the kid into it! He was just a goofy player—how could an NPC take his words seriously!?

Facing the crowd’s accusing glares, Five-Colored Mottled Black hurriedly backpedaled. “I-I’ll go find him!”

Leader Yan said coldly, “Don’t bother. The desert’s vast—footprints get buried by the wind in moments. How would you even know which way he went?”

It sounded reasonable.

She had no idea that players themselves were walking bugs.

“I’ll definitely find him!” Five-Colored Mottled Black bolted to find Ruan Xuezong.

“Sect Sect, bad news! I got someone killed!”

Ruan Xuezong had just gotten up. From afar, he heard the shout. Under Five-Colored Mottled Black’s practiced assistance, he dressed neatly and heard the full story.

He pondered for a moment. “Don’t panic. We don’t know when the boy left or which direction—southeast, northwest—but it’s only been a few hours. He’s most likely headed toward a town or oasis. With the White Horse racing across the sands and the Black Eagle scouting from the skies, we can find him before danger strikes.”

“Aaaah, hubby Sect Sect is amazing! My thoughts cleared right up!” Five-Colored Mottled Black’s heart surged with emotion, utterly charmed by Ruan Xuezong’s calm analysis. He wanted to slide over on his knees, hug Sect Sect’s leg, and nuzzle it fiercely.

“Go quickly. Time’s of the essence—we’re racing the merciless sands.” Ruan Xuezong patted his head.

One hour passed, then two, then three… Until nightfall, Five-Colored Mottled Black still hadn’t succeeded. Finally, leading the White Horse on one side and carrying the Black Eagle on the other, he returned, looking utterly dejected.

“Didn’t find him?” Ruan Xuezong frowned slightly.

Impossible—unless this Western Regions boy Kanbei had golden movement arts rivaling Shen Jiangling’s, able to traverse the desert unmatched. How else could he outrun a Sweat-Blood Treasure Horse? And the Demonic Sect Black Eagle could survey a thousand li—what was it there for, decoration?

“Sect Sect, do you think… maybe this NPC got eaten? QAQ” Five-Colored Mottled Black felt a chill of panic.

At those words, Ruan Xuezong’s brows furrowed. “It’s possible. Otherwise, a living person wouldn’t just vanish… But we’ll see a body if he’s dead, a live one if not. Tomorrow, I’ll search with you. If possible, I’d like the two leaders, familiar with the desert terrain, to help as well.”

His gaze settled on the two leaders.

Leader Shi glared daggers at Five-Colored Mottled Black but nodded in agreement.

Leader Yan’s face darkened, grief barely masked in her expression. She shook her head slowly. “No need to search. You won’t find him. He must’ve been dragged off by a beast. If he wanted to leave, he should’ve known the risks. The palace’s livelihood comes first. Tomorrow, I have to head to town to sell our embroidery—can’t spare the time.”

A pensive look crossed Ruan Xuezong’s face.

That night, he feigned sleep with eyes closed. In the pitch-black darkness, from afar, he could make out the blanket rising. The face beneath it was exquisitely beautiful, unrivaled in the Western Regions.

A shadow crept closer. Before the knockout incense could take effect, a pair of deep, night-like eyes snapped open, gleaming with utter insight. A voice like cool spring water intoned, “Leader Yan, will you keep making the same mistake?”

—How was this young man so perceptive?

Yan Feishuang was caught off guard. Her first instinct in panic was to flee—she could deny everything later. But before she could, her acupoints were swiftly sealed. As she froze in place, torches flared to life throughout the Underground Palace, illuminating her ashen face.