Chapter 117 – Dream

Without any warning, the Bone Formation suddenly reacted, as if a drop of cold water had fallen into boiling oil. The intense heat seemed to scorch his soul. Wei Yang instinctively reached out to grab the bone chain, but the moment his hand touched the formation, the scenery before his eyes changed.

The light dimmed abruptly, and the bright workshop turned into a blurry shadow, replaced by a dense forest shrouded in darkness. Night stretched endlessly, and will-o’-the-wisps flickered like lanterns. He walked through the forest, the branches and vines parting before him as if pushed aside by shadowy figures. With each step, even the long grass bowed under his feet. He moved slowly, as if every step carried the power to make the entire forest submit. Yet, what filled his chest was boundless rage.

The anger felt like it was burning his soul. Step by step, he followed the path that had been cleared for him. The howling wind was like the wails of malevolent ghosts, and the dense, tangible malevolent energy clung to him like a thick fog. Yet, none of this mattered to him. He walked through the forest path, which felt like the road to the Yellow Springs, and arrived at a clearing.

The clearing was vast, with no trees, weeds, birds, or even insects. In the center of the clearing was a large black boulder, about half the height of a person. The stone emitted a faint, eerie glow, like that of a crystal, and under the light of the will-o’-the-wisps, it shimmered with an ominous aura. This object was called Yang Bi, a meteorite that had fallen from the sky. It was black in color and incredibly dense, capable of blocking all yin and yang energy, making it one of the most coveted materials in the Daoist world. Yet, such a rare treasure had been placed in this wilderness because it suppressed something far more terrifying.

Legend had it that in ancient times, when a meteorite fell to earth, it could destroy cities and leave countless corpses in its wake. In the worst cases, it could pierce through the boundary between yin and yang, descending straight into the underworld. The craters left by these meteorites were called “sky pits.” Wherever a sky pit existed, strange phenomena would occur. This sky pit was one of them. Due to its extreme danger, it had been sealed by a Daoist master over a hundred years ago, and the Yang Bi before him was the key to the seal.

If he moved the Yang Bi, could he enter the underworld and retrieve the remnants of that person’s soul, allowing him to perform a soul transfer and extend his life?

He chuckled softly. The path of ghosts was treacherous, but it was no match for the desolation of the mortal world. He was willing to risk his life for this, even if it meant sacrificing the lives of all living beings within a hundred miles.

Taking two slow steps forward, he drew a wooden sword and plunged it into the hard ground. As the slender, fragile blade pierced the soil, the dark clouds in the sky dispersed. It was not a moonless night; in fact, it was a full moon, as bright as a silver wheel that should have illuminated the heavens. Yet, the moonlight was dim, seemingly drawn to the wooden sword, forming a narrow silver chain that descended into the center of the clearing.

This was the power of moonlight, the power of a celestial body. It was a yin force that contained yang, yet was neither yin nor yang. As the light gathered, something triggered the formation’s power. It was a grand formation, one that had taken an unknown amount of time to complete—a formation that should not have existed in this world.

A thick darkness emerged, surrounding the wooden sword bathed in moonlight. The tangible malevolent energy began to boil and burn, as if it had been thrown into a raging fire. On the other side, surrounding the Yang Bi, was pure and unyielding yang energy, a force no less powerful than the sea of yin energy. Yet, the yang energy was frozen, motionless and cold.

These two forces should not have coexisted, but at this moment, they were locked in a strange stalemate. If viewed from above, the formation would appear like a Taiji diagram, with yin and yang standing side by side, clear and distinct. The wooden sword and the Yang Bi were the yin and yang eyes, like reflections of each other. Extreme yin gave birth to yang, and extreme yang gave birth to yin, yet these two eyes were neither yin nor yang. The wooden sword represented life, while the Yang Bi represented death. The chaos of yin and yang became nothingness.

No yin or yang force could move the Yang Bi, but chaos could.

He extended his hand, revealing three white finger bones resting in his palm. A golden light burst forth from them. The moonlight energy on the wooden sword began to tremble like ripples on water. The force was neither fierce nor domineering; instead, it felt somewhat sluggish. Yet, as the ripples formed, the incredibly heavy Yang Bi began to shake, as if lifted by an invisible hand. Beneath it lay the malevolent energy from the underworld, but within this formation, it would not erupt. It would only be suppressed, even if only temporarily.

He could take this opportunity to steal the remnants of that person’s soul!

A faint smile appeared on his lips as he pricked his fingertip. Blood poured out, dripping onto the Bone Formation. With his essence blood as the guide and the witch bones as the bridge, all he needed was to sacrifice a few more things…

The Yang Bi slowly rose, revealing a two-foot-wide hole beneath it. A coldness more piercing than ice emanated from the hole. The malevolent energy around the wooden sword began to tremble, as if sensing the terror of the malevolent energy trapped below. A piercing scream tore through the night, echoing through the empty forest.

He didn’t even furrow his brow. Instead, he drew out a Soul Binding Talisman and placed it over the three bones. Then, he stepped forward, walking toward the sky pit. His steps were steady, as if he were walking on the smoothest road, not the chaotic field of yin and yang forces. His hands were steady too; even the pool of blood in his palm didn’t tremble. The Soul Binding Talisman emitted a wisp of blue smoke, drifting straight toward the hole. He would follow the soul smoke to find that person’s soul…

Everything was going according to plan, a plan he had spent countless years calculating. He hadn’t made a single mistake. Yet, when he was just a few steps away from the sky pit, something unexpected happened!

The Bone Formation in his palm trembled slightly, and the golden light suddenly flared up, as if it had been activated. The Soul Binding Talisman on top of it instantly turned to ash! His expression changed drastically, and he quickly tried to form a hand seal to remedy the situation. However, the wooden sword behind him let out a crisp crack as the blade snapped in two. Without the wooden sword to guide it, the moonlight energy lost control and exploded!

What would happen if the formation’s core changed? The intertwined yin and yang forces lost their balance. The malevolent energy and moonlight energy collided, while the yang energy surged back like a furious dragon, rushing toward him. The three forces clashed violently, producing a deafening Heaven-Breaking Sound!

The heavens were broken, and so was the formation. No one could escape such chaotic forces. Yet, the Bone Formation, which had just undergone a sudden change, transformed again. It was as if it had been controlled by someone, turning into a faint white mist that enveloped him. The light was cold and piercing, yet gentle and calm, like an impenetrable barrier, shielding him from the formation’s power.

The smoke dispersed, and the night became clear, with the moon shining brightly and the stars twinkling. In the clearing, there was no more malevolent energy, no yin or yang, no Taiji diagram. The Yang Bi returned to its original position, sealing the path to the underworld. The only thing left in the clearing was a man slumped on the ground.

His head hung low, his withered white hair falling to the ground, stained with dirt. Yet, his gaze was fixed on the three bones before him. The divine and ghostly power that had once resided in them was gone. No matter how he tried to activate them, they remained unchanged, as if whatever had been attached to them, whatever had been helping him, had completely dissipated.

The man extended a trembling finger and lightly touched the bones. “Jiang Qi… You don’t want me to go, do you? I could have brought you back…”

His voice was hoarse, carrying the dryness of an old man, yet his fingers were smooth and fair. A cold tear rolled down his cheek…

“Wei Yang!”

A voice pierced through the scene before his eyes. Wei Yang shuddered and suddenly snapped back to reality. The dense forest and moonlit night were gone. He was back in the workshop, though he didn’t know when he had fallen to his knees. Two clear tears streamed down his cheeks. In a daze, he reached up and wiped his face, trying to erase the sudden tears.

He had had another dream, a daydream that felt as real as seeing a ghost. In the dream, the figure of the white-haired man was so vivid, and he could even feel the man’s emotions. He had lost someone important, the owner of those three bones…

Was all of this for the sake of that soul? And what had stopped him in the end? Wei Yang didn’t know the details, but he seemed to understand—he understood the grief of losing everything, the anger that could tear through one’s chest. If it were him…

Wei Yang raised his head, the tear stains still on his face, and saw the man kneeling beside him on one knee. Zhang Xiuqi’s fingers were long and steady, yet at this moment, his hands were trembling ever so slightly, as if the ancient coldness within him had been completely torn apart, revealing the boiling magma beneath. He wasn’t injured; he had just had a daydream. What could make the unshakable Little Celestial Master tremble like this?

Wei Yang smiled faintly and reached out, firmly grasping the man’s hand. Palm to palm, thumb to thumb, he said softly, “Brother Qi, I’m fine. I just got a little weak in the knees.”

Zhang Xiuqi wasn’t a fool. He had seen the light erupt from the Bone Formation, had seen Wei Yang collapse in that instant. This wasn’t a normal reaction; it was as if something had pulled his soul away, taking him to another place. Yet, the hand holding his was warm and steady, carrying a comforting intimacy.

A startled exclamation came from the front of the workshop. The father and son who had been standing at the workbench finally snapped out of their daze. Xiao Zhou hurried over, asking with a hint of nervousness, “What happened? Is something wrong?”

Wei Yang pushed himself up, pulling Zhang Xiuqi to his feet as well. He forced a laugh and replied, “Sorry, I was injured recently and have been a bit anemic. I stood up too quickly and got a little dizzy.”

“You scared me…” Xiao Zhou clicked his tongue. He and his father had been so focused on the diagram that they hadn’t noticed Wei Yang’s condition. Seeing Wei Yang’s slightly awkward smile now, they felt relieved.

Master Zhou, however, didn’t care about any of that. He immediately called out, “Xiao Wei, come take a look! This hidden painting within a painting is truly rare. Could it be some kind of treasure map?!”

This was the kind of thing that only happened in legends. In his entire life, he had never encountered a hidden painting, let alone one that might contain a treasure map.

“Could it really be a treasure map? This trip wasn’t in vain, then.” Although Wei Yang knew the map was likely related to Sun Yunhe, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he pulled Zhang Xiuqi over with great interest.

Between the two of them, their tightly clasped hands seemed glued together, inseparable.