Chapter Seventy-Four: Spirit Vein

The crimson magma churned endlessly, waves of scorching heat assaulting the senses. Below, bubbles rose ceaselessly to the surface.

Leng Bingyan frowned, unsure why the Ghost King had brought her here. Was it truly only magma, churning so violently? She was about to ask when the Ghost King began to speak slowly, “Blessings and misfortunes come together—calamity has indeed arrived! The Ancestor’s calculations were as profound as ever, ordering the High Envoy to gather the Nine Provinces Divine Dragon Cauldron and reset the Nine Provinces barrier. It was truly a wise decision.”

Leng Bingyan listened, bewildered, yet she managed to seize upon something. Grandfather Mo’s words, left behind in a letter, still echoed in her mind: The source of the stellar spiritual vein has met with trouble, the Nine Provinces barrier is shattered, and spiritual energy is dissipating. Grandfather used supreme magic to suppress the crisis, striving to restore the origin of the spiritual vein, but as fate would have it—or perhaps Heaven itself interfered—Heaven and Earth are ruthless, treating all things as mere straw dogs. Grandfather’s hopes could not be fully realized in the end.

Yet, regardless, Grandfather Mo’s efforts were not wasted. The recovery of the spiritual vein was nearly complete, and the restoration of the source’s spiritual energy was all but inevitable. However, the problems this could provoke were difficult to predict. Though the spiritual energy was sufficient, it was not yet stable; in the short term, great disasters could arise, and Heaven and Earth would seek a new equilibrium.

A sudden flash of insight struck her. Leng Bingyan looked at the roiling crimson magma and realized it had crept up to her very feet without her noticing. The searing heat felt all too real. A jolt of alarm struck her heart—what was truly happening here?

“Halt—” The Ghost King of Mount Mang formed a hand seal and thrust it at the restless magma. Instantly, the magma, like a mischievous child, calmed down somewhat.

“What’s going on?” Leng Bingyan asked, startled by the scene before her.

The Ghost King gazed at the now-placid magma, then turned to Bingyan and said, “The transformation of Heaven and Earth has already begun. This is the outlet of the spiritual vein of our land. The spiritual vein of Heaven and Earth was originally dormant, but the Ancestor, to revive it, poured infinite power into it. Yet it remains unrestrained, like dust drifting in the mortal world, still lacking the final decisive cut to sever all attachments.”

“So it’s just a half-finished product?” Bingyan interjected halfway.

The Ghost King of Mount Mang gave a bitter smile. Indeed, as Bingyan said, the spiritual vein was an incomplete work. He believed that if the Ancestor of Ten Thousand Demons wished to perfect the spiritual vein, it would have been a simple matter. There must have been some difficulty, some hidden reason, for abandoning it halfway.

“Originally, the eruption of the spiritual vein would not have occurred for many years yet. But misfortunes never come singly. The laws of creation are beyond prediction, and no one can know exactly what the future holds. Although the Ancestor foresaw the changes in the spiritual vein, his divine eye could glimpse the workings of fate, his wondrous hands could command Heaven and Earth—he could divine all things, manipulate yin and yang, and set the Nine Provinces barrier ahead of time. But even so, changes always outpace calculations, and fate rises and falls unpredictably.”

“What do you mean by that?” Leng Bingyan was confused. She knew something had happened, but not what, exactly.

“You must be no stranger to the girl Xia Yu, High Envoy?” the Ghost King asked.

Bingyan nodded. Of course she knew Xia Yu—could this matter be related to her?

“It is indeed related to that girl,” the Ghost King replied. After a pause, he continued, “The Phoenix Clan is an ancient lineage of divine beasts. On the source star, their bloodline persists in the Spirit Phoenix clan. The Spirit Phoenix possess a blood pool known as the Nirvana Purgatory. To undergo nirvana, one must first die—only by dropping a corpse into the blood pool, undergoing its transformation, can a phoenix be reborn as a true emperor!”

All of this Bingyan knew; she had even played her part in Xia Yu’s “death.” Though it was to help her, Bingyan always felt a tinge of guilt toward that “sister.”

“That Nirvana Purgatory of the Spirit Phoenix clan is connected to this magma here, and even to the source of the spiritual vein itself,” the Ghost King revealed, stunning Bingyan into silence.

Noticing her astonished expression, the Ghost King smiled calmly. “If Xia Yu were just an ordinary phoenix, it would not matter. But the problem is—she is not ordinary.” He paused, then went on, “There are several types of phoenixes in the Spirit Phoenix clan. The ordinary royal phoenix grants its possessor the title of king. But the Scarlet-feathered and Golden-feathered Spirit Phoenixes are legendary forms among the royals, said to be the ‘emperor’ aspect. There has always been just one royal in each generation; and in this generation, Xia Yu, astonishingly, possesses both the Scarlet and Golden aspects. Combined, they have given rise to the true ancient divine beast—the Illusory Feather Divine Phoenix.”

“That should be a good thing, shouldn’t it? That means Sister Xia Yu will be very powerful,” Leng Bingyan said, puzzled.

“Yes, Xia Yu has indeed grown powerful. Even now, her strength could rival that of an immortal. In time, her potential is boundless!” The Ghost King’s tone turned troubled. “But do you know where the royal Spirit Phoenix’s power comes from, generation after generation?”

“Could it be the Nirvana Purgatory?” Leng Bingyan guessed. Since every phoenix king must undergo nirvana, and only after rebirth are they truly mature, it made sense that their power came from the Nirvana Purgatory.

“Exactly—the Nirvana Purgatory! As I said, it is directly connected with the source of the spiritual vein. The Phoenix Clan are both guardians and masters of the spiritual vein. The problem is that Xia Yu’s bloodline is so noble she has evolved into a true ancient phoenix. In the distant past, the power of such a creature was immense—how can the still-unstable spiritual vein provide her with so much energy all at once?”

“So the construction of a new balance has begun ahead of time?” Leng Bingyan asked.

The Ghost King nodded wordlessly. “The ancient phoenix is indeed strong, but the energy infused by the Ancestor was no trifling matter. Now that Xia Yu has absorbed a portion, it has only hastened the establishment of equilibrium. It does not affect the whole.”

“Then my mission is to gather the Nine Provinces Divine Dragon Cauldron and reset the barrier as soon as possible?”

“Precisely!” The Ghost King nodded. “I, as the Ghost Emperor, am not here for nothing. For now, I can suppress the spiritual vein, buying you enough time to gather the cauldron. Today, I only wished to make clear the gravity of the situation.”

“Ghost King, rest assured—I will do my utmost,” Leng Bingyan promised solemnly. Afterward, she discussed cultivation insights with the Ghost King, then entered meditation. In the timeless world of cultivation, a month passed in a flash. When Leng Bingyan emerged from her trance, her eyes sparkled with clarity as she gazed at the kindly Ghost King, unsure for a moment what to say. After a brief conversation, her figure flickered and vanished, returning to the mortal world.

Watching Leng Bingyan leave with such urgency, the Ghost King of Mount Mang could not help but smile with satisfaction. He had wanted to say that he could hold on for a year or more if needed, but Bingyan had already gone. She really was just a child…

※※※Yu※※※Emperor※※※

A swath of pure blue stretched across the sky, like a flawless jade, making it easy to forget both time and oneself.

At that moment, hand in hand with Summer, Xia Yu’s face was full of excitement as she wove through the crowds, a faint happiness suffusing her heart. She did not care whether every season was spent among flowers, listening to their language; as long as her palm held a trace of fragrance, whether fleeting or eternal, she was happy. Just as now—simply holding hands brought an indescribable thrill.

Summer smiled, watching Xia Yu dash about like a child, listening to her laughter like bells. The preciousness of life lies in every moment!

The two had been apart for a month—Xia Yu had undergone nirvana. Since their reunion, all worries had melted away; beauty and kingly tombs entwined, as the saying goes. Their passion was unrestrained, their love inseparable. Unconsciously, they had been reunited for over two months.

Strolling together down the bustling street, Xia Yu’s eyes suddenly lit up—she had spotted a familiar figure.

The boy seemed to notice them as well, turning to offer a smile. It was Leng Bingyan, now restored to his male form. Fifteen years old, he was a charming boy indeed.

“I’m sure I’ve met him before!” The thought grew stronger in Xia Yu’s mind, but she simply couldn’t recall where or when.

Seeing him up close, her conviction only deepened. A slender frame, indomitable eyes, and that long, flowing hair—not tinged with purple, but with a hint of blue. Though it only brushed his neck, it gave him an irresistibly adorable air.

“Dark Feather Sister, we meet again,” the boy said with a smile. Xia Yu was startled—he knew she was Dark Feather!

“You—”

“Have you forgotten me, Sister? I’m Bingyan—Leng Bingyan!” The boy’s voice held both sadness and a trace of grievance.

“Leng Bingyan… Leng Bingyan…” Xia Yu mouthed the name several times. Suddenly, memories surged back.

“Here!” Xia Yu handed him a credit card, her allowance—about several hundred thousand. “You’ll need this. Remember to live well!” With that, Xia Yu started to leave.

“Sister, can you tell me your name?” he called.

“Dark Feather!” Without looking back, Xia Yu gave a false name.

“Sister, remember—from today on, my name is Leng Bingyan! I live only for myself! And, I’ve always wanted to say—your outfit, Sister, is not cool at all. It’s so silly—”

Hearing this, Xia Yu tripped and nearly fell. Hmph! Daring to say I’m not cool? And call me silly!

Old memories welled up again, and Xia Yu finally remembered who the boy was. It had been a cold night before New Year’s Eve—a sad little boy she had helped, but forgotten to tell him the card’s password…

“So it was you!” Xia Yu stepped forward and affectionately ruffled Leng Bingyan’s hair—soft as if she were caressing a beloved little brother. For some reason, she felt a rare warmth between them. “Little Bingyan, my real name isn’t Dark Feather—it’s Xia Yu, understand?”

“Would you like to visit my place?” Xia Yu invited, hope shining in her eyes.

But Leng Bingyan declined, “No, I have things to do and can’t visit you, Sister Xia Yu.” He glanced at Summer. “Is this your boyfriend? He’s so handsome!”

“May I speak with him for a moment?” Without waiting for Xia Yu or Summer to answer, he took Summer by the hand and led him into a quiet alley. His hand was just as soft as Xia Yu’s—that was Summer’s first impression.

“What is it? Go ahead.” Summer was calm. “If I’m not mistaken—thank you for always being by Xia Yu’s side, protecting her.”

With those words, Leng Bingyan knew Summer had guessed the truth. Why had so few of Nangong Qinxin’s associates succeeded in reaching Xia Yu? As Summer had suspected, someone had been protecting her from the shadows—and that someone was the boy before him! Fourteen or fifteen years old, yet even Summer felt a chill in his heart—Leng Bingyan!

But he also knew that this boy was a friend, not a foe.

“So you figured it out?” Leng Bingyan smiled gently—a smile warm enough to touch the heart, with an unexpected hint of charm. “Sister Xia Yu once helped me—I must repay her in turn!”

“But—” Leng Bingyan’s tone shifted, “Brother Summer, this is where you’re in the wrong. Sister Xia Yu only became a girl three years ago—how could you have taken her so soon? And if you had to, you should have been more careful, taken precautions! It’s not good for her to be pregnant so young—she’s only just twenty, and that’s by nominal age; in actual years, she’s only eighteen! Far too early, far too early!”

“You—” Summer was too stunned to speak.

“Believe me, Sister Xia Yu is already pregnant!”

As that childish voice faded, Summer looked up—but Leng Bingyan was already gone.

The moment Leng Bingyan saw Xia Yu, he understood what had happened to her. It was obvious—Xia Yu was pregnant.