Chapter Forty-Nine: The Veil of Destiny

My skin was flushed all over, as though scorched by flames. Smoke seemed to rise from my throat. Without the suppressing power of the Jade Step, I was unable to resist the burning liquor’s invasion; my body was almost at its limit. The searing heat compelled me to grip the jar of the Other Shore Blossom brew—one violent squeeze, and the porcelain shattered in my hand. Bracing myself against the table, white vapor billowed from my hands, as if the moisture within me was about to evaporate entirely.

At the same time, I began to sense something stirring beneath my skin, trying to break free. It wasn’t only the feeling under my skin—my fingernails were growing, sharpening into talons like those of an eagle.

“Master, what’s happening to him?” the Flower Maiden asked nearby.

Yet Weiyang kept her gaze fixed on me, her expression calm, almost as if she expected this. Then, I saw the scales appearing on my skin, pushing through, breaking the surface, crawling out from underneath.

I didn’t know what I had become, nor did I wish Weiyang to witness me like this. With a furious roar, I overturned the wooden table and rushed outside the hut.

All around me, the Other Shore Blossoms bloomed endlessly, crimson as blood. At that moment, the flowers exuded a fragrance I had never encountered—surely the scent unique to these blossoms.

Suddenly, I saw Weiyang in red robes, standing on a distant cliff. Her face was streaked with tears as she gazed into the abyss below, her expression so despairing that I feared she might leap. I cried out, “Weiyang, don’t!”

But she gave no response. Ignoring everything else, I dashed through the sea of flowers, reaching out to seize her—only to find I could not touch her. Standing before her, she could not see me.

Her sorrowful visage tore at my heart. Day and night passed, and when I could see her clearly again, her hair had turned completely white. What grief could turn her hair white overnight?

Who was it that lay beneath the cliff?

I don’t know how much time passed. At last, Weiyang returned from the cliff’s edge and murmured, “You once said, ‘When the Other Shore Blossoms bloom in the Hidden Forest, it will be the time for our reunion.’ If you lied to me, then let us never meet again through all our lifetimes.”

The deeper the love, the deeper the hatred. Her words overflowed with boundless resentment, born of profound love. I didn’t know why I was witnessing this, but the moment I saw it, my heart was plunged into despair. Weiyang stayed at the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng not merely as a guardian of the tomb, but because she loved the one beneath the cliff, willingly becoming the tomb keeper out of devotion.

I found a stone and sat down.

Turning back, I saw Weiyang taking a sack of seeds from the hut and sowing them around her dwelling. She refused to believe he would leave her forever, and so she awaited the day the Other Shore Blossoms would bloom in the Hidden Forest.

When I awoke again, I was lying inside the hut; this must still be the same thatched cottage. Weiyang sat by my bedside, lost in thought.

Her expression was identical to what I had seen in my dream.

I said nothing, but checked myself—the scales had vanished, I was returned to normal. I didn’t know how much time had passed before Weiyang noticed I was awake. She spoke apologetically, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you could not touch alcohol.”

Few people knew of this, apart from my grandfather. When I was born, she had saved me, but she could not have discovered this particular detail.

I shook my head slightly and said it was nothing.

She then asked why I had grown scales all over—I truly had no answer. I had once suspected I might be the child of that great white serpent, but Grandfather had explained that animals required cultivation and a soul to take human form, whereas I was born human. The truth remains elusive.

But Weiyang didn’t press further, instead asking, “What did you see just now?”

What I had seen weighed heavily on me, and I didn’t know how to express it, so I recounted the vision simply. Weiyang explained that the Other Shore Blossom brew contained the essence of the flower; drinking it allowed one to see their past life. What I saw resembled my previous incarnation, but it was unclear and indistinct—perhaps only events after my previous life’s death.

After she finished, I understood her intention. She had me drink the brew not out of jealousy, but to discern whether I truly was the one she awaited. All along, she believed I was him, and so married me.

She did not consummate the marriage, leaving on our wedding night, because she was uncertain if I was truly the one. Thus, she gambled on it.

Only those bound by karma with her could enter the Hidden Forest and drink the Other Shore Blossom brew to glimpse their past lives.

“Did you find your answer?” I asked.

Weiyang shook her head.

There was a question I nearly asked, but lacked the courage. Seeing her slight disappointment, I dared not pursue it further, afraid of the answer.

If I was not the one she waited for, what would become of us?

I didn’t dwell on it further, for the answer had become vital to me. From the moment she agreed to marry me, from the instant she donned the wedding gown, the emptiness in my heart had been filled by her presence.

At that moment, the Flower Maiden arrived.

“Master, the various sects of the Dao are gathering near the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng, but they cannot enter with only the Mountain God Order. What should we do next?” she asked.

“To them, the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng is the greatest opportunity since the onset of the End of Law era. Let them pursue it; whether they obtain it depends on their fate,” Weiyang replied, her face turning cold.

“Give all the Other Shore Blossom brew to the Daoist sects,” she added.

“But Master, that brew is the fruit of your years of effort. Why give it to them?” Flower Maiden seemed confused.

“I have waited for this day,” Weiyang answered.

“Understood, Master!” Flower Maiden nodded and went out to carry out her order.

I was puzzled and asked Weiyang. She explained, “Apart from me, anyone wishing to enter the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng needs two things: first, the Mountain God Order from the Old Boundary Ridge; second, the Other Shore Blossom brew.”

“So that’s how it is,” I said.

Then Weiyang asked, “Do you wish to enter the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng?”

“You said that only those with the Mountain God Order and the brew could enter. Though I’ve drunk the brew, the Order is in the hands of the Maoshan Sect. I fear I cannot enter,” I replied.

“How can the Maoshan Sect keep the Mountain God Order?” Weiyang said, producing a green token from her sleeve and handing it to me.

On the token were engraved the words, Mountain God Order of Old Boundary Ridge. I had never imagined the Order was in Weiyang’s hands. When I first arrived at the Hidden Forest, she was absent—she must have fetched the Order from Maoshan for me.

Afterwards, Weiyang led me to the entrance of the Thirteen Streams of Yunmeng.

Yet I saw none of the Daoist sects here. I asked Weiyang, and she said the Daoists had gone to a different Thirteen Streams, a pit of hell. It was their punishment, their destined end.

I knew little of the story behind it and could only nod silently. The state of the Daoist sects was unclear to me, but I believed Master Li’s words were true.

Weiyang told me there were thirteen tombs beneath the Thirteen Streams, but only one was genuine. I was to seek out the true tomb and find the sole opportunity under the heavens in the End of Law era. It would not be easy, but this was the last chance—if I failed, there would be no more Ghost Dao beneath Heaven.

I asked what that opportunity was, and what the Ghost Dao truly meant.

Weiyang shook her head and said it was a fate outside of Heaven’s mandate, impossible to reveal. As for the Ghost Dao, if I found the opportunity, I would naturally understand its meaning.

I then asked how Weiyang had borrowed my fate years ago.

She was silent for a while, gazing beneath the Thirteen Streams, and said, “I went once, risking death many times, to borrow a life for you. But I do not know how many lives are beneath the Thirteen Streams, nor whose lives they are. You drank the brew yet could not see your past life—this means your fate is hidden by Heaven’s secrets. Only if you descend yourself will you know.”

As I departed, I turned and asked one last question: “If I fail to find the true opportunity, does that mean I am not him?”

Weiyang did not hesitate and nodded.

“If I am not him, will you leave me?” At that moment, I finally voiced the question. It mattered deeply to me. Facing death in the Thirteen Streams, I was unafraid of dying, but I did not want to die without understanding.

If you enjoy Yin-Yang Tribulation, please bookmark it; updates are the fastest here.