Chapter Twenty-One: A Trap Within a Trap (Part 1)

Two days after Hao Dan and his companions set out, they found themselves ensnared by a second trap. It seemed that the witch Duna had foreseen their escape from the illusionary formation, as if she possessed prophetic insight. When Hao Dan’s party arrived, they discovered that the witch Ba Shizhu—whom they had previously trapped in the banyan forest—was already there, waiting alongside Duna for their arrival. The sudden appearance of these two left Hao Dan and his companions stunned.

“As expected! Duna, you were right—the boy truly is remarkable. All the amalgamated demons you summoned were destroyed by him. I must say, your judgment is impressively accurate. As for those two beside him, they are perfect material for puppets. I must have them!” Ba Shizhu declared excitedly, her gaze fixed greedily upon Hao Dan and his companions.

It became apparent that Duna’s sorcery lay in summoning and fusing human corpses with demon beasts, thus creating fiendish abominations neither human nor ghost. It was likely that the monsters that roamed the Grand Xia capital more than a decade ago were Duna’s handiwork.

“My master’s intuition has never failed,” Duna replied coldly, her tone devoid of emotion.

“I took the performance the other day very seriously. Otherwise, how could I have confirmed that this boy is the one we seek?”

Hearing their conversation, Hao Dan and his companions were incensed to realize that the encounter in the banyan forest had been a staged act. The witches had deliberately provoked Hao Dan to expose his strength. Though he had not revealed his full power, there was one thing they could be sure of: this youth was most certainly the reincarnation of “that one.” Moreover, they had repeatedly sent monsters into the city to stir unrest, hoping to lure out Hao Dan, for he had been under the surveillance of the Seven Stars Pavilion’s agents since childhood. Until now, he had shown nothing extraordinary; but the skills he had demonstrated the other day were far beyond the teachings of the Daoist Cave-Heaven Sect, and no practitioner of that school could have escaped Ba Shizhu’s formation without outside assistance or exceptional talent.

It was now clear to the witches that Hao Dan had hidden his true nature right under their noses and likely possessed unknown fortunes. From this, they could deduce he was indeed the one spoken of by Yuan Ji—a reincarnation of the ancient Eastern Emperor Taiyi. Yet, Hao Dan himself remained ignorant of this truth, and even in the phantasmal realm, Lu Ya Daojun had not revealed his lineage. All of this would have to be discovered by Hao Dan himself, for if others were to reveal the secret or assist him rashly, it might lead to unforeseen complications and upheavals. For this reason, even sages and immortals dared not interfere recklessly; all watched in silence, for Eastern Emperor Taiyi’s reincarnation was no ordinary soul, and his unresolved karmic ties from the primordial era could not be so easily severed. Should others become entangled in his fate, the consequences would be dire.

Coming back to the present, Hao Dan and his companions seemed to have pieced together the truth. Hao Dan, remaining calm, asked, “Since you are so utterly confident in dealing with us, why have you not acted directly? Why all the elaborate tricks and performances? What is it you want from me, an ordinary man? Since childhood, I have lived in Shangqiu, never crossing paths or bearing any grudge with the people of the Seven Stars Pavilion. Even if a confrontation is unavoidable, I wish to know the reason.”

“Ha! You wish to know the reason? Hahahaha!” Ba Shizhu laughed with seductive delight, her laughter full of mockery. “We would like to know as well! But our master has not told us anything. As long as we do not kill you, we may deal with the others as we please.”

Hearing this, Hao Dan’s expression grew grave. Why would the National Preceptor of the Seven Stars Pavilion want to deal with him? He had no time to ponder these mysteries now; all he wished was to reach the Grand Xia capital and learn the truth. Still, he sensed a connection between these events and his journey. Testing their intentions, he said, “I am the adopted son of Cheng Tang, the Martial King of Shangqiu. I am on urgent business to the capital; I ask that you show mercy for my father’s sake and let us go.”

Duna’s eyes shone with a mesmerizing violet-red as she replied coldly, “So it is you. There can be no mistake.”

Only now did Su Su and Old Hei realize that Hao Dan was the son of the Martial King Cheng Tang. Old Hei had met the king once, many years ago.

“Your foster father can barely protect himself; he is but a prisoner beneath the earth. What right does he have for us to honor him?” Duna’s voice was as chilling as ever, her gaze upon Hao Dan and his companions as if she were looking at corpses.

Seeing the effect of her words, Hao Dan’s suspicions grew stronger. He pressed, “How is it that my foster father is in such dire straits? What has befallen him in Grand Xia, and why is he imprisoned?”

“Hahahaha! He won’t live long anyway. We might as well indulge you and tell you. The Martial King is held captive in the Xia Terrace and will soon be executed by the Xia King as a public spectacle. Now do you understand?” Ba Shizhu sneered, unwilling to keep up any pretense.

...

Just as Ba Shizhu and Duna were about to advance, a tranquil spiritual field materialized, enveloping everyone. In that moment, Hao Dan could hear with absolute clarity not only his own heartbeat and breath, but those of everyone around him—Duna, Ba Shizhu, all in perfect synchrony.

“Ah!” Hao Dan was suddenly reminded of the day he and Seventh Mistress entered the Martial King’s mansion and found the Left Minister, Yi Yin, divining omens. He had not cared then, being more interested in slaying monsters to prove himself and boast before the villagers. But from that moment, everything changed. The peace and happiness he had known were gone, replaced by unease and calamity. Since returning from the phantasmal realm, he found both himself and the affairs of Shangqiu transformed beyond recognition.

Seeing this, Duna and Ba Shizhu’s eyes narrowed in alarm. To their seasoned vision, the aura now emanating from Hao Dan had surpassed their control—the youth seemed suddenly immensely dangerous.

Su Su and Old Hei were stunned. Su Su, though confused, showed a strange light in her bright eyes, while Old Hei’s jaw dropped in shock, for he saw the golden bell at Hao Dan’s neck shine like the sun itself. The bell was twisting frantically, attempting to break free from its red cord. It spun rapidly, its energy as brilliant as starlight—an overwhelming power felt by all present. Hao Dan’s ponytail was blown loose, his hair tumbling down as he levitated silently, eyes shut.

“This is bad!” Realizing danger, Duna and Ba Shizhu retreated in a flash, halting only at a safe distance.

Meanwhile, Old Hei snatched up Su Su and bolted, crouching behind a distant tree, his face betraying myriad emotions of awe and dread as he looked back at Hao Dan.

Around them, the air erupted into a violent tempest centered on Hao Dan. Trees and grass were swept upward as if by a colossal whirlwind, the storm radiating outward with destructive force.

At the same time, in the Seven Stars Pavilion of the Grand Xia capital:

In the golden chamber atop the Pavilion, a shadowy figure appeared silently in the study of Yuan Ji, the National Preceptor. This person sat arrogantly upon the crystal chair, showing Yuan Ji no respect whatsoever.

“I have come today to inform you that my goal has been achieved. What are your plans now?” the figure said abruptly.

Yuan Ji, holding a black cat, emerged calmly from a corner, her lovely features showing little surprise—clearly she had been expecting a visitor. With an air of ethereal grace, she stepped forward. “Is the time not yet ripe? What else is there to do?”

“The time will come soon. All is within our grasp. Together, you and I can handle any upheaval. Let us wait for the opportune moment. Unless you have other matters, I shall take my leave.”

As the figure rose to go, he suddenly turned, astonished, to gaze in the direction of Yangcheng outside the capital.

“It seems things are becoming ever more interesting,” Yuan Ji said, rising elegantly and smiling with enchanting poise.

“Nothing has truly begun yet. I hope your confidence will not disappoint me,” the figure remarked meaningfully, glancing back at Yuan Ji.

“All here is meticulously arranged. Surprise is all you will find,” Yuan Ji replied, caressing the black cat’s fur with casual indifference.

“Let us hope so,” the figure concluded, vanishing silently.

...

The exchange between these two was inscrutable—for any third party, their conversation would be like clouds and mist, impossible to unravel.

Meanwhile, the situation around Hao Dan was dire. Old Hei shielded Su Su from the raging gale, struggling to retreat, while Duna and Ba Shizhu stared in disbelief at Hao Dan, realizing that the situation was spiraling beyond even their power to contain.

Hao Dan had entered a wondrous state. The external storm raged uncontrollably, yet within its heart, he was perfectly safe, and no one could discern what was happening inside.

Within the eye of the storm, Hao Dan’s eyes remained closed. He seemed to be communing with a spiritual entity—the spirit of the Eastern Emperor Bell, known as Lord Dongjun. This being was identical in appearance to Hao Dan, draped in a translucent white robe adorned with the golden bell of the great sun, and his silver hair shone with blinding brilliance.

Lord Dongjun, the spirit of the Eastern Emperor Bell, held absolute dominion over its power. After a thousand years of slumber, he had been awakened by the surge of complex emotions within Hao Dan—a turn of fate as dramatic as any. Dongjun gazed at Hao Dan in confusion, and Hao Dan stared back, unperturbed by their identical faces. After a long silence, Dongjun spoke first, his tone awed and reverential: “Are you my Lord? His Majesty the Eastern Emperor?”

“Eastern Emperor? Eastern Emperor Taiyi? Me?” Hao Dan’s consciousness drifted in a strange, ethereal state, his awareness withdrawn from the external world and immersed within the microcosm of the Eastern Emperor Bell.

“My Lord, why do you seem unfamiliar to me?” Dongjun puzzled at Hao Dan’s bewilderment.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am not your master, nor am I Eastern Emperor Taiyi!” Hao Dan replied, glancing anxiously around, eager to escape this uncanny place and rejoin his companions.

“It cannot be wrong. You are my Lord! I could never forget you!” Dongjun exclaimed, moving closer, sniffing and inspecting Hao Dan thoroughly.

“Why am I here? What is this place? And what are those star-lit terraces below?” Instead of answering, Hao Dan surveyed his surroundings—a dark void sparkling with countless stars, as if floating in the vast cosmos. Asteroids of immense size occasionally streaked by.

Standing on a tiny star, Dongjun pointed below, “This is your world, my Lord—the Eastern Emperor’s Realm. You created this microcosm eons ago, and within it are sealed the ancient ancestral witches. They are right beneath your feet.”

Following his gesture, Hao Dan saw ten dark-violet platforms aglow with starlight, crisscrossed with runes of purple and gold, around which golden talismans revolved in mysterious orbits.

Suddenly, a cluster of azure light flashed and surged into Hao Dan’s consciousness, hiding deep within his soul. Fragments of memory—chaotic and indistinct—began to surface, showing him incomprehensible visions.

At that moment, a baleful voice echoed throughout the world—a voice so fierce it snapped Hao Dan back to awareness. From below, a cacophony roared: “Eastern Emperor Taiyi! You know you cannot destroy us. Our souls endure as long as heaven and earth, beyond the reach of any Way. Though you have sealed us here, one day we shall break free and return to the mortal realm. Then, none shall stop our vengeance, and you shall be torn asunder, cast back into this hellish world, sealed for eternity! Hahahaha!”

More hoarse, menacing voices joined, cackling, “Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck!”

“Hehehehe! When that day comes, the despair you gave us, we shall repay a thousandfold!”

“Our tribe’s thousand-year blood debt shall be avenged in blood! Hahaha!”

“My Lord, pay no heed. A thousand years of imprisonment has driven them mad,” Dongjun said, floating before Hao Dan.

“Am I truly Eastern Emperor Taiyi? Can I wield the power of the Eastern Emperor Bell? I have urgent matters to attend to, and I need its strength. Whether I am your master or not, I must act—will you help me?” Hao Dan asked, realizing his friends outside might be in grave danger.

“To help you is no difficult task, my Lord. But if your spirit returns to your body now, I cannot say when we might meet again. As the bell’s spirit, I cannot sustain this connection for long. The bell’s divine power has not fully recovered, and with the ancestral witches still sealed here, I need to regain my strength. Without it, the bell can only remain the size of a pendant. That is why you have been unable to unleash its full might. Should your spirit return now, I cannot guarantee we will meet again. Only by maintaining this link can you borrow my power and wield the bell against your foes,” Dongjun explained anxiously, desperate not to lose Hao Dan.

“No, there’s no time! If I don’t go back now, it may be too late! Send me back immediately—there are people waiting for my help, and their situation is dire!” Hao Dan insisted urgently, for events outside were spiraling beyond their knowledge.