Chapter 122: Clouds and Mist

At the foot of Green Pool Mountain.

"Many thanks to the immortal for saving me." Wu Yang, who had remained silent all this time, finally stepped in front of Su Yuanbai, bowing with deep respect and a solemn tone of gratitude.

Su Yuanbai looked down at him. "It was not I who saved you, but you who saved me."

"Huh?" Wu Yang scratched his head in confusion.

"In time, you will understand." Su Yuanbai did not offer further explanation. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Cui Dandan, who stood nearby with her eyes cast down in quiet composure. "I have saved your life."

"The immortal has indeed saved my life." Cui Dandan did not look up into Su Yuanbai’s dark eyes; she kept her gaze fixed on the ground and spoke softly.

Su Yuanbai seemed indifferent to her demeanor, stating calmly, "I require compensation."

"What compensation does the immortal require?" Cui Dandan’s eyelashes fluttered as she asked.

"Qi replenishment."

No sooner had Su Yuanbai spoken than his body, which had been leaning slightly backward, collapsed. Fortunately, Wu Yang’s reflexes were sharp; he caught Su Yuanbai, reached out to check his pulse, and felt for his breath.

"Miss Cui, I am afraid I must trouble you," Wu Yang said, looking up at Cui Dandan with a grave expression.

He discovered that Su Yuanbai’s body was completely hollow. Setting aside the chaotic, violent, and wild Qi he had sensed earlier, he could not even detect the faintest pulse. Had his breath not still been present, Wu Yang would have truly suspected that Su Yuanbai was dead.

Cui Dandan looked at Su Yuanbai, whose eyes were lightly closed; her pupils constricted slightly as she, too, sensed the anomaly. "Cui Ya, go to Fufeng Temple and ask Daoist Chen for the four elixirs: the Qi-Inducing Pill, the Qi-Gathering Pill, the Qi-Nurturing Pill, and the Qi-Restoring Pill."

"Yes, Miss." Cui Ya accepted the necklace she had taken from Cui Dandan’s neck—a token of identity—and departed immediately.

Seeing this, Wu Yang intended to follow, attempting to hand the supported Su Yuanbai over to Cui Dandan, but she stopped him. "Do you still have the strength?"

"I do..." Wu Yang turned back to her, confused. He did not understand why she would ask this now.

"Protect me and bring both of them safely back to my estate. The events that are to follow will likely depend on you," Cui Dandan said softly, her gaze drifting toward the faint, looming walls of Mengfu City in the distance.

Wu Yang looked toward the city, and a sudden realization dawned on him.

"You don't think..."

"I hope not."

Cui Dandan reached out and slowly helped the semi-conscious Xie Xiushi up from the ground. There was no trace of strain on her face, as if she were lifting not a man twice her weight, but a flower easily snapped from its stem.

Wu Yang noticed this and stared at her in astonishment.

"You didn't think that in this world, I would rely on others, did you?" Cui Dandan said calmly, holding Xie Xiushi steady as she saw the confusion on Wu Yang’s face.

"But Miss Cui, aren't you..." Wu Yang asked, curious.

Cui Dandan pulled back her sleeve, revealing a yellow paper talisman on her inner wrist, inscribed with a strength-enhancing charm in cinnabar. "My constitution is somewhat unique and does not allow me to cultivate the path of the Dao, but the use of talismans and artifacts does not require that."

"I see." Realization dawned on Wu Yang’s face. He then supported Su Yuanbai and began to walk toward Mengfu City.

Cui Dandan looked down at her palm, where dried bloodstains from fingertip marks remained. She had, in fact, withheld the truth from Wu Yang. Her constitution did not prevent her from cultivating; it only prevented her from practicing the orthodox path. She could, however, cultivate the evil, heterodox paths related to blood and soul.

Yet, those paths did not consume Qi—they consumed blood and soul. If they were not one's own, they had to be another's.

Meanwhile, the unconscious Su Yuanbai found his consciousness in a strange place.

Hazy mist swirled like eternal clouds. Su Yuanbai wandered through it at will, looking up to see a cloud-mirror floating directly overhead.

The mirror did not reflect Su Yuanbai or the swirling mist, but rather Cui Dandan’s pensive expression and everything happening around his physical body.

"Silly Ape, aren't you going to come out and chat? Or were you beaten into a state of self-isolation?" Su Yuanbai asked with a smile.

The mist surged and rolled, and a great mountain manifested before his eyes.

The mountain was peculiar; its peak was paved with white jade, while its base was overgrown with red copper, much of it raw ore. A tall, robust ape with white hair and red feet sat upon the white jade, its fierce eyes fixed on Su Yuanbai.

As soon as Su Yuanbai willed it, clouds and mist rose beneath his feet. He stepped lightly, and the mist transformed into white light, carrying him to the side of the great ape.

Su Yuanbai looked at the irritable Zhuyan and asked, "How is it staying here?"

"It is nothing more than trading one cage for another. Nothing that comes out of the mouths of you humans is true." The Zhuyan reached out and swiped at Su Yuanbai.

Su Yuanbai’s form dissipated under the blow, only to suddenly solidify again.

"It was not I who tricked you into waking, only to imprison you in the mountain to continue your slumber, nor was it I who coaxed you into offering your demonic blood. On the contrary, it was I who helped awaken you so that your demonic consciousness could reach this place," Su Yuanbai said, sitting cross-legged on the clouds, gazing at the Zhuyan.

"Had you not awakened me, you would have died at the hands of that little insect," the Zhuyan said, its ape-eyes filled with cold, predatory malice.

Su Yuanbai smiled gently. He looked down at his own body; the red crane-patterned robe appeared within his consciousness, and he was wearing it.

Unlike the one in the physical world, however, this robe featured an eight-trigrams pattern in blood-red at the collar, which seemed to rotate.

"Did you really think I would die at the hands of that centipede spirit?" Su Yuanbai tilted his head, looking into the Zhuyan’s fierce eyes, which were vast enough to contain his own reflection.

The Zhuyan stared at this strange human—or more accurately, at the swirling mist that clung to his back.

Su Yuanbai chuckled softly and waved his hand.

The mist behind him churned and dissipated, revealing rows of shimmering golden divine statues. These were the gods of the Heavenly Realm: the four departments of Thunder, Fire, Plague, and Conflict, as well as the stars, the mountains and rivers, the rain and clouds, and the gods of Good and Evil.

There were exactly three hundred and sixty-five of them.

"Who are you?" The Zhuyan’s fierce eyes focused once more on Su Yuanbai.

The mist swallowed the statues again, leaving behind only the golden image of the Ghost-Gold Sheep, along with two other statues.

These two did not belong to the three hundred and sixty-five orthodox gods.

One bore the exact likeness of Duan Lingqi, though its golden luster was dim, and it was covered in cracks, as if on the verge of shattering.

The other statue’s face was ever-changing; at times it took the form of the jailer Qu Hancheng, and at others, it appeared as a stranger wearing an imperial crown. It glowed with a ghostly cyan light.

Su Yuanbai shook his head with a faint smile and waved his hand again. The mist surged, engulfing these three statues, as well as the Zhuyan and the mountain.

"That is indeed a good question. Who am I?"

The smile faded from his face. His expression turned to one of confusion as he gazed into the vast, white, misty expanse, murmuring to himself.