HCAW 138

Chapter 138: The Distant Day of Leaving One’s Homeland

Over Yingzhou, stubborn clouds filled the sky, and the rain poured as if a river had burst its banks. Emperor Bai and the Tianfu Guard walked slowly across the floating bridge, like lost souls stripped of spirit.

They didn’t know how it happened, but after passing through the gate, the world before them had completely changed. The fisherman they had seized told them this place was called “Yingzhou,” not “Penglai,” and that the previous dynasty, known as Penglai, had long since fallen.

Emperor Bai’s thoughts were a tangled mess. What was going on? After passing through the taoyuan stone gate, had they truly leapt thirty years into the future?

The Tianfu Guard hesitated and said, “Your Majesty… I wonder, could all this be because of that ‘Taoyuan Stone’?”

Emperor Bai turned to him. The Tianfu Guard continued, “Your Majesty must recall the story I once told? About the fisherman from Wuling who lost his way and stumbled into a land of peach blossoms—Peach Source. It was said the stone cave he passed through had the strange ability to cross time. The stones taken from that cave were called ‘Taoyuan Stones.’ I’ve also heard that coastal fishermen once dredged up many black stones from the sea and likewise named them ‘Taoyuan Stones.’ Who knows if they’re related.”

Emperor Bai frowned. “Yes, the gate was indeed built with such stones. But didn’t we once pass through it on our expedition? There was no sign of anything unusual then…”

“Your Majesty forgets,” said the Tianfu Guard. “At that time, the gate at Zhenhai Pass had just been completed, and it was quite low. We didn’t depart directly through it. Likely after we left, Penglai suffered from the snow calamity, and hail collapsed the gate. Apart from us, perhaps no one else has passed through since.”

“Even so,” Emperor Bai said, “if this ‘Taoyuan Stone Gate’ really does have some strange effect, then why have we come not to the past, but to the future?”

As he spoke, he tried to turn and look back at the gate, but saw nothing—only wind and rain. After a moment’s thought, the Tianfu Guard said, “I don’t know either. Perhaps after we passed through the gate, we entered a different version of the world. In this one, the Taoyuan Stone Gate is not here, but atop the mountain that fisherman called Qingyu Gao Mountain.”

They looked toward Qingyu Gao Palace. Its turquoise tiles and soaring eaves shimmered with gold and jade, faintly echoing the appearance of the former Penglai Immortal Palace. The Tianfu Guard stepped forward, his expression grave:

“Your Majesty, let’s go take a look. Let’s see what this so-called Penglai—thirty years later, now called ‘Yingzhou’—has become.”

The wind howled like mountains splitting; rain crashed furiously down. Thirty years later, Penglai—now known as Yingzhou—was anything but a paradise. As they crossed the floating bridge, they saw many refugees and starved corpses lying in the stagnant water, letting the rain pelt them as if they no longer felt it. Slaves bore heavy chains, their backs bloody and mangled.

Emperor Bai’s brows knit tightly together as he followed the Tianfu Guard to the front of Qingyu Gao Palace. The guards at the gate wore robes and armor of plain silk, holding javelins, but their manner was lazy and indifferent. Most lounged in groups by the roadside, playing leaf cards. At the sight of strangers, they leapt up and shouted:

“Stop! What business do you have here?”

The Tianfu Guard removed the Tianfu token from his waist. “I am the Tianfu Guard. I seek audience with Lord Yu Ji Guard.”

“Tianfu Guard?” The soldiers looked at one another and then burst into laughter, as if hearing a joke. “Isn’t that some title from the old dynasty? All the Immortal Mountain Guards except for Lord Yu Ji Guard died long ago. Trying to fool us, are you?”

Emperor Bai stepped forward, voice cold: “Enough nonsense. Have Yu Ji Guard come out.”

Though he looked young, his bearing was regal and imposing. The soldiers involuntarily took a step back before one steadied himself and laughed, “A little brat barking orders? What’s he got?” Another sneered, “Ah, I get it. He’s probably the Lord’s little pet, come here to posture in front of us.”

Just as Emperor Bai was about to explode in fury, a raspy voice echoed from within the hall: “Let them in.” The soldiers recognized the voice and backed off—but not without casting lascivious glances, until that same voice chuckled again and said:

“Little Emperor. Still alive, are you?”

Emperor Bai remained silent and walked into Qingyu Gao Palace beneath the now-solemn gazes of the guards.

Within the hall, myriad candles glowed softly. A sun held aloft by nine dragons adorned the dome overhead. At the center sat a golden chair inlaid with yellow brass, grand and ornate. An old man in golden thread robes embroidered with colorful pheasants sat upon it—it was Yu Ji Guard, though he had aged greatly.

Yu Ji Guard saw them and chuckled, “Well, look who’s here! What an honored guest. Your Majesty, it’s been what—thirty years? But you haven’t aged a bit.” Even facing the emperor, he did not rise.

The Tianfu Guard glared. “Yu Ji Guard, what is going on? His Majesty and I passed through the Zhenhai Pass and arrived in this place. The fisherman said this is not Penglai but Yingzhou—and that you are emperor now.”

The old man burst into laughter. “So you really came from the past? Seems the ‘Taoyuan Stone’ legends weren’t all nonsense. I’ve never tried it myself—didn’t want to end up who-knows-where.” Then his tone darkened. “You ask why I rule here? Because there was no emperor left. The Xian Mountain Guards all died. Someone had to step up.”

Their minds reeled.

After a long silence, Emperor Bai asked, “This really is… thirty years later?”

Yu Ji Guard counted on his fingers. “If you start from your expedition, then yes—it’s been just over thirty years.”

“What happened to the Xian Mountain? Why am I not here? And what happened to the rest of the Xian Mountain Guards?”

“Heh. That was long ago. You’ve probably heard from the locals—most of what they say isn’t false. Penglai was scorched by daylight; the glaciers melted, floods surged in, and the Ming Sea rose. We had no place to stand, so we built these floating boats.”

“And me? What happened to me in this future?”

“You’re asking me that?” Yu Ji Guard burst out laughing again, then suddenly fell silent, face cold. “Didn’t you already know the answer? Over thirty years ago, the so-called Emperor Bai fled the Immortal Palace and vanished. Ask yourself—where have you been these past thirty years?”

Emperor Bai’s face turned deathly pale, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. After the rioters stormed the Penglai Immortal Palace, he and the Tianfu Guard had rushed to the Zhenhai Pass—and upon crossing it, they had arrived here. So it turned out that on that very night, he had stepped thirty years into the future. And in those thirty years, he had been absent from the Xian Mountain.

The Tianfu Guard gently laid a hand on his shoulder and said in a low voice, “Steady yourself, Your Majesty. This cannot be blamed on you.” Then he raised his head and shot a cold glance at Yu Ji Guard. “Since the glaciers melted and the ice wall surrounding Penglai must have collapsed, did you never consider setting sail for the Nine Provinces?”

Yu Ji Guard laughed. “Going to the Nine Provinces was the little emperor’s ambition, not mine. If you ask me, this place isn’t so bad. With the little emperor gone, this land became my backyard. I no longer had to be some lapdog wagging its tail at court!”

The old man’s eyes turned to the world beyond the hall. “Besides, when the glaciers melted and the Ming Sea rose, a ‘Great Whirlpool’ formed in the center of the sea. Yingzhou lies within it—it’s easy to enter, hard to leave. Even if I had the will to go to the Nine Provinces, I no longer had the means.”

Emperor Bai refused to listen. “We saw the people along the road when we came. Yu Ji Guard, famine and death run rampant in Yingzhou—do you call this governing a nation?”

“But Your Majesty,” Yu Ji Guard sneered, “under your rule, the rivers of the Xian Mountain froze, and countless civilians died. Compared to me, were you truly any better?”

He burst into laughter, sharp as blades, cutting deeply into Emperor Bai’s heart. After laughing, his tone turned dark:

“Little emperor, there’s one question you asked earlier that I have yet to answer: how did the other Immortal Mountain Guards—my comrades—die?”

The old man slowly stood, his enormous shadow falling over them like a crushing stone. His face twisted, lips curled into a snarl, and he grinned:

“It was I—who killed them.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he suddenly darted forward like lightning. No one knew when, but he had already slipped on the Heavenly Mountain gold claws. With a roar, he struck downward. Yu Ji Guard’s eyes gleamed with murderous intent. “Yu Jue Guard—I tore her in two. Bi Bao Guard—I crushed her into paste with a stone pillar. Mohe Guard—I punched him to death. Gu Bi Guard—I left him fatally wounded; he fled with a few retainers and is rumored to have died in the snowy plains. The others either died or were wounded during your expedition. With them gone, it was only a matter of time before I became the ruler of Yingzhou!”

Yu Ji Guard’s moves were blindingly fast. The Tianfu Guard drew Chengying Sword and shielded Emperor Bai, but the impact nearly ruptured his organs. Yu Ji Guard had used his full strength, and the Tianfu Guard had no time to deflect—he took the full blow and blood spilled from his lips.

With a twist of his claw’s mechanism, bricks and stones in Qingyu Gao Palace suddenly shifted. Gold bricks dropped away, revealing hidden trapdoors. In an instant, hundreds of sleeve darts and hidden blades launched at once. The Tianfu Guard gritted his teeth, whirled his sword, and knocked the projectiles to the ground.

But while he was defending, Yu Ji Guard had already slipped behind Emperor Bai.

“Your Majesty!” the Tianfu Guard shouted. Emperor Bai spun around and drew Hanguang Sword, but Yu Ji Guard’s claws were already before his eyes.

With a flick of his finger, Emperor Bai felt a tremendous force slam into his face. He flew backward, his skull bursting with pain as if his brain were about to shatter. He staggered several steps before falling. The Tianfu Guard rushed forward to catch him. Emperor Bai felt a searing heat across his face—then blood gushed from his seven orifices.

“You truly are weak, little emperor,” the old man said, cracking his joints as he tossed aside his cloak. Black veins bulged across his body—clearly he had activated the power of the ‘Immortal Elixir.’

“Looks like the throne of the Son of Heaven—sits better beneath me!”

“Your Majesty, we must flee!” The Tianfu Guard was terrified and distraught, whispering frantically. Emperor Bai couldn’t even nod. His breath was as faint as a thread as he closed his eyes.

The Tianfu Guard leapt from the hall, seized a horse, and galloped across the floating bridge. Emperor Bai lay limp across the saddle, vomiting blood-tinged bile as the jolting agony of his skull returned. He groaned:

“Run… but where to?”

“Anywhere remote to hide!”

“So long as we remain in Yingzhou… we’re still in his grasp…” Emperor Bai’s voice was thread-thin. “Better we go… to the Taoyuan Stone Gate on Qingyu Gao Mountain…”

“If we pass through it, will we return to Penglai? But Your Majesty, even if we do, wouldn’t enemies still await us there?”

Emperor Bai gave a weak, sorrowful smile. “Better… than dying in a foreign land…”

A black wind lashed the sea. Rain poured in torrents. As the Tianfu Guard spurred his mount forward, he suddenly felt the floating bridge tremble. Looking back, he saw, under a dim lantern, the old man, black veins pulsing, striding toward them. Every step thundered like crashing waves.

The old man bent, dug his iron claws into the deck, and in an instant, the hundred-zhang-long bridge was ripped into the air like a serpent flying skyward. The Tianfu Guard leapt onto a nearby boat, his horse was flung into the sky with a desperate scream. In Yingzhou, Yu Ji Guard was like a god.

“Your Majesty, Tianfu Guard—what’s the hurry in such foul weather?” Yu Ji Guard cackled. “In Yingzhou, you need not play emperor and guard. I’ve got some courtesans in Qingyu Gao Palace—shall I break your limbs and make you join them?”

No answer came. Frowning, Yu Ji Guard strode to a floating boat and flicked a finger. A gust tore the canopy in two—but the two were gone. Like fish into the sea, they vanished without a trace.

The storm roared like thunder. Rain lashed down like mountain rockfalls.

The Tianfu Guard carried Emperor Bai up Qingyu Gao Mountain.

Moments before, he had hidden with him beneath the water, then stolen a small skiff to shake off pursuit. In ship-filled, rain-cloaked Yingzhou, slipping through the darkness was no great feat.

But soon, lightning lit the world in blinding white. Amid pealing thunder, the Tianfu Guard sensed a shadow trailing them. Through the flickering trees, Yu Ji Guard’s voice rang out: “Don’t rush off! We haven’t finished our chat!”

The Tianfu Guard quickened his pace, but Emperor Bai staggered with dizziness and pulled them both into the mud. Emperor Bai forced his limbs to move, whispering, “Minsheng… go alone. Through the gate… it should be Penglai…” But the Tianfu Guard only gripped his arm tighter. “I will never abandon Your Majesty.”

The wind howled. Shadows shook like phantoms. It felt as if all the world was filled with Yu Ji Guard’s wrath and form. Stumbling and falling, they suddenly slipped through a hollow in the earth, tumbling through a steep tunnel, battered on all sides.

At last they landed in a torch-lit cavern, and in its stone walls was embedded a pitch-black stone gate—Yingzhou’s Taoyuan Stone Gate.

They dared not delay. Hastily they opened it. And the moment they passed through, the world changed once again.

The rain was gone. On the other side, the sky was blue as crystal. They stood atop a hillside awash in red arrowroot flowers, fiery and bright. Below lay a magnificent city, crimson gates and flowing crowds, ten thousand lights and endless incense. Every five steps stood a glazed-tile deity statue, wreathed in blossoms.

They stared, entranced. This was neither Penglai nor Yingzhou. It was a place unlike any they had seen. Emperor Bai, clutching his throbbing head, turned to the Tianfu Guard and asked:

“Where… is this place?”

The Tianfu Guard squinted into the distance. After a long silence, he hesitated and said, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I cannot say for certain. But I seem to glimpse characters on the city’s banners—repeated everywhere. Perhaps… it’s the name of this place.”

“What does it say?”

The Tianfu Guard narrowed his eyes, pondering a moment, and replied:

“‘Daiyu.’”