Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wilderness Chapter Sixty-Four: The State of Mind Shapes the World
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The night was deep and dark.
The barren mountain lay silent.
Suddenly, a horse neighed, and a gust of cold wind swept through. Then came the fluttering sound of startled birds fleeing through the woods, echoing across the mountains and intensifying the sense of eerie terror in that desolate place.
Yu Ye stared at the nearby mountain stream.
He often slept outdoors, his courage formidable, bolstered by his cultivation and his longsword—he feared nothing.
Yet in the stream less than a dozen feet away, a faint light flickered.
Fire-glow insects?
A kind of luminous bug, known in the village as fire-glow insects.
But how could such tiny creatures startle a horse?
Yu Ye rose, reaching for his longsword.
The stream was ordinary enough—a crack in the mountain wall through which water flowed, descending from above, then spilling over the mountain path with a gentle rush.
Yu Ye approached the mouth of the stream.
It was two or three feet wide, but a dozen feet within, a figure stood, radiating a white glow, strikingly conspicuous and bizarre in the tranquil darkness.
Yu Ye was astonished.
His spiritual sense could reach thirty feet, yet someone so close had escaped his notice.
“Who goes there?” Yu Ye called out harshly, sword drawn.
The figure in the stream did not reply, but slowly raised her head. Her long hair flew, revealing a delicate face—a beautiful young woman, standing barefoot as if treading on air, her gown floating like feathers in the wind, her graceful form exuding an uncanny allure. Her red lips parted, voice as gentle as jade:
“I am the Celestial Maiden, come to help you cast off your troubles. Come…”
She smiled, beckoning with slender hands, as a strange fragrance wafted through the air, like a tide of spring, overwhelming and irresistible.
Yu Ye felt his mind cloud, stepped back two paces, his expression vacant, and the sword he had raised slowly lowered.
Then a soft, compassionate voice spoke beside his ear—
“You have suffered much, your fate tossed like a drifting weed, alone and uncertain, never knowing what tomorrow brings. You pity the world, strive for goodness, yet bear slander and live between life and death. I know your pain, your weariness. Come, soar with me across the heavens. By the banks of the starry river, you will find your home…”
Yu Ye’s heart quivered, his nose tinged with sorrow.
He was like a child walking a lonely road at night, afraid or aggrieved, yet never daring to utter a sound, enduring and strong, but inevitably alone and lost. He longed for comfort and understanding, for someone to see his struggles. Yet the path beneath his feet promised a lifetime of solitude.
In a haze, the beauty who called herself the Celestial Maiden glided closer, extending soft arms, her scent and allure irresistible, whispering, “Come…”
Yu Ye’s cheeks flushed, his gaze unfocused.
Just as his spirit faltered, the longsword hanging in his hand suddenly slashed forth, releasing a fierce beam of sword light.
Whoosh—
There was no spray of blood, nor any screams, only a cold wind swirling back, and the beauty vanished without a trace.
Yu Ye staggered, leaning on his sword. His face was still flushed, but his drifting gaze gradually cleared.
Where the cold wind had passed, a small figure now appeared in the stream. Four-legged, long-tailed, sharp-eared, short-snouted, pure white, with blood-red eyes—a white fox, shivering in terror.
“Bah!” Yu Ye spat with hatred, stepping into the stream.
The village elders had said that hunters, often in the wild, inevitably encountered strange and uncanny things. Ghosts were nothing to fear; hunters carried the aura of death and did not fear evil spirits, but wild foxes and yellow wolves were another matter. Foxes especially were cunning, fond of beguiling the mind. He had always thought it mere old folk’s tales for children, never taken it seriously—who would have imagined encountering such a thing himself in these wild mountains?
Fortunately, his heart was kind but his will firm, and his ignorance of affairs between men and women meant that, in the critical moment, he was confused but not lost. His decisive sword not only shattered the fox’s illusion, but ultimately saved him.
He could not let this creature go, lest it harm others!
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Yu Ye stepped aside, raising his longsword.
The white fox did not flee, but crouched on the ground, its frightened gaze tinged with reluctance and a plea.
Yu Ye’s expression grew grave.
Behind the fox, in a crack in the stone, grew a cluster of green leaves, and among their branches hung a string of green-red fruit, exuding a faint fragrance.
Exotic fruit?
Whatever they were, they must be precious to the fox.
This creature was afraid someone would steal its fruit, so it played tricks here?
Yu Ye understood and his anger dissipated. Heaven and earth nurture all things, each with their own way of living. As long as there is no harm, why not coexist in peace?
The white fox remained crouched, tilting its head to watch him, its blood-red eyes now lively and intelligent.
“Hmph, don’t harm others—or yourself!” Yu Ye feigned sternness, admonishing, and turned to leave the stream.
He returned to his spot and sat down.
The frightened horse came trotting over from the distance.
The valley was empty, the night lonely.
Yu Ye suddenly felt tired.
Was the vision earlier a trick of the fox, or a disturbance of his own heart—was the world shaped by the mind?
…
Another night.
Under pale moonlight, a figure swept past the valley entrance. Within the valley, a small village still had a few lights burning. The figure paused at the mound south of the village, lingered at the village gate, then headed straight for the mountain behind.
Through the woods, across the stream.
The figure vanished into the steep, rugged mountain path.
In a moment, the familiar cliff appeared.
The figure settled—it was a youth, robes fluttering, steps light yet face serious, thoughtful eyes beneath thick brows.
It was Yu Ye.
He had lost his way earlier, delayed several days, and tonight, after arriving at Xingyuan Valley, hid his mount in the woods outside and returned alone to Yu Family Village.
He dared not disturb his clansmen, for his great vengeance was unfulfilled, and he was ashamed to face the elders.
However, passing the village gate, he checked the two straw huts under the old tree. That was Uncle Qiu’s residence, neglected and dusty—clearly, the old man was not in the village.
This cliff was where Uncle Qiu had nursed him back to health.
Yu Ye walked right for a dozen yards; the cave where he’d once hidden remained unchanged. Through the dark entrance, he saw a heap of dead branches and bird droppings in the cramped cave—nothing else.
From last year’s end-of-winter snow closure until now, late summer and early autumn, more than nine months had passed. Where had Uncle Qiu been all this time?
An elderly man could hardly leave Xingyuan Valley, especially since he had abandoned his bamboo staff…
Yu Ye turned to a cliff wall.
Before the wall lay a patch of brambles. He remembered clearly, Uncle Qiu’s bamboo staff was left there. The mountain path was steep, snow-covered at the time—without the staff, how could Uncle Qiu have descended?
Yu Ye frowned, deep in thought.
To find Uncle Qiu’s whereabouts, he could not overlook any clue.
He recalled the scene when he picked up the bamboo staff, carefully examining the thicket before him.
Without snow cover, the thicket was filled with stones. Among them, a protruding green stone, barely the size of a fist, ordinary in appearance but embedded several feet deep. Without spiritual sense, its strangeness would go unnoticed.
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Yu Ye couldn’t help but step on it—the green stone didn’t budge. He pressed harder, and suddenly it sank. At the same time, he heard the sound of stone grating behind him. Turning, his eyes widened.
Behind him was the cliff wall.
Over thirty feet high, joined with the mountain. Moss covered the wall, vines hung down, seemingly without any secret—yet suddenly a doorway split open.
Yu Ye stared at the opening, then at the thicket.
The green stone in the thicket was intact but had sunk three inches.
A mechanism, a formation?
Since witnessing Tao Feng and the others’ formations, he had consulted ancient texts and gained some understanding. Hunters and wanderers relied on clever traps; cultivators’ mechanisms were not only ingeniously built, but included formation flags, restrictions, and many wondrous variations.
If Uncle Qiu were a high-level cultivator, such mechanisms would be child’s play.
Could Uncle Qiu be inside?
The doorway was two feet wide, five feet high, the interior pitch black, seemingly sealed for ages, from which a stench of decay drifted.
Yu Ye hesitated, then ducked inside. Before he could stand, he heard stone grinding again.
A slab slowly blocked the entrance behind him. Beside it, another green stone protruded. Stepping on it should reopen the doorway.
Yu Ye took out a luminous pearl.
By its faint glow, he saw a cave over ten feet across. It was empty—Uncle Qiu was nowhere to be seen. On the cave’s right side, another five-foot-high doorway appeared.
Yu Ye started toward it, then stopped.
Though the cave was empty, in the center lay a stone, upon which rested a small black ring.
What was this?
Yu Ye bent to examine it.
The ring was as small as a storage ring, but not of jade—rather, of black iron. Even scanning it with spiritual sense, it seemed an ordinary iron ring.
Yu Ye picked up the ring.
The moment it touched his hand, his spiritual sense naturally flowed into it.
His brows arched in surprise.
Within the ring, another world?
This unremarkable iron ring was indeed a storage ring, but ordinary ones held only a few feet of space. The world inside this ring was dozens of feet across—its size far exceeded his expectations.
Yu Ye slipped the ring onto the middle finger of his left hand, activated his spiritual sense, and waved gently.
A jade slip and a palm-sized piece of jade fell to the ground.
Though the ring’s space was vast, it contained only these two items.
Yu Ye picked them up to inspect.
The slip held a cultivation technique—“Heavenly Prohibition Art.” Its use was unclear for now.
The jade was carved from purple jade, palm-sized, crystalline, refracting the glow of the luminous pearl and bursting forth with dazzling purple light. At that moment, an overwhelming aura seemed to awaken, shaking his spirit and filling him with apprehension.
Yu Ye quickly put away the jade and slip, still marveling.
Were the ring and its contents left by Uncle Qiu?
Yu Ye raised the luminous pearl and slowly approached the adjacent doorway.
As he entered, his face changed dramatically...
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