HCAW 141

Chapter 141: The Labyrinth Beyond Peach Source

After passing through the Taoyuan stone gate, the time ahead might give rise to a different story, just as a branch can sprout twigs growing in diverging directions. The Tianfu Guard gradually came to understand this principle.

He ought to have traveled into a moment of the past after crossing the Taoyuan stone gate, yet the Tianfu Guard of that moment died in the Ming Sea—while he now stood here, perfectly alive. Therefore, the Tianfu Guard thought, the world beyond the Taoyuan stone gate must be a different one, almost identical to the one he had experienced, but with subtle differences.

To the Tianfu Guard, this was good news, because it meant that the past could be changed. Yet his joy was quickly shattered by harsh reality.

Knowing that chipping away at the ice wall was futile, he had previously advised Emperor Bai, and so this time, the group adopted a completely different approach. One party focused on chiseling shallow pits into the ice wall, driving in stakes and tying ropes to build a ladder-like ropeway. Another party took small boats and sailed along the ice wall, searching for any possible weakness.

The rope ladder grew ever higher, ever longer. It was as if, from the darkness of night, the people caught sight of the morning sun—they had hope. But the cold grew more and more severe, and the number of the frozen dead increased daily. A single wave of night frost could claim dozens of lives in one night. The quartermaster urgently reported to Emperor Bai:

“Your Majesty, we can’t hold out much longer!”

But Emperor Bai furrowed his brows and said, “Wait a little longer—wait until we scale the ice wall.”

The Tianfu Guard stood before the wall, holding a wounded black-winged tern. The tern chirped softly and obediently in his arms, and the Tianfu Guard gently teased it with his fingers, his gaze tender. He had recently discovered that this kind of bird, native to Guixi, was intelligent. It could serve as a messenger bird, immune to disorientation, and always able to find its way home. Emperor Bai stood beside him, looking at him, his gaze as gentle as water:

“Minsheng, what do you think we should do?”

The Tianfu Guard frowned deeply. He recalled the Emperor Bai of the previous world who had fallen into despair upon realizing the ice wall could not be breached. Though they had now chosen a completely different method, could it truly allow them to bypass the ice wall and reach beyond Xian Mountain? Or would it lead only to another bitter defeat?

And if this world met with a crushing defeat, would he once again abandon this Emperor Bai and pass through the Taoyuan stone gate into another era?

Looking into the Emperor’s clear and sincere eyes, the Tianfu Guard felt as if a knife had twisted in his heart. At last, he returned a smile and said, “Let’s follow Your Majesty’s plan.”

The weather grew ever colder. At times, a wave of intense cold wind could instantly freeze a person into an ice statue. Emperor Bai’s desire to retreat grew heavier, though he showed nothing on his face. The Tianfu Guard could sense his anxiety.

One day, a soldier carved a hole in the ice wall and climbed up the rope ladder. Suddenly he cried out:

“I see it! I see it!”

“What?”

Emperor Bai abruptly looked up and shouted, “What do you see?!”

That soldier stared into the distance, his face suddenly turning deathly pale. He stammered, “Y-Your Majesty… I saw… there’s another layer of ice wall above. It’s like… Xian Mountain is endlessly sinking, and we… we are at the bottom of an ice abyss!”

In that instant, the entire camp was struck as if by lightning.

One soldier threw down his ice pick and cursed, “You damn bastard, talking crazy and trying to trick His Majesty!” But the soldier still clinging to the rope ladder cried out:

“It’s true! If I speak falsely, may Heaven strike me with thunder and shatter me into five pieces!”

The camp fell silent. For a time, the only sound in Guixi was the wailing wind. No one knew when the first ice pick fell to the ground. Then five or six more. Then dozens. Hundreds. The clangs became a chorus as soldiers dropped to their knees, eyes full of despair.

The ice wall could not be broken, nor climbed—it loomed before them like an impassable chasm. The Tianfu Guard quickly turned to look at Emperor Bai, only to see his eyes wide open, filled with the same gray despair as the Emperor Bai before passing through the Taoyuan stone gate.

The Tianfu Guard’s heart skipped a beat, for he knew another heart was about to break in defeat—no different than before.

After some time, they set sail and rowed back toward the capital. Along the way, every face was dark with gloom. The Tianfu Guard thought, this time more returned than last—but their morale was at its lowest ever.

When they arrived back at Penglai, they were shocked to find the city ablaze. Smoke curled through the air, and a great fire rose from the Immortal Palace like a waving sheet of crimson silk. Villagers who saw them charged forward with red eyes and snorting breath, like mad beasts, shouting:

“Tyrant—tyrant!”

“Penglai is colder than ever—autumn crops have been killed by frost, and frozen, starving corpses litter the land! And you, dog emperor, never came back to check even once. The taxes keep rising—two-thirds of what we have are taken! Who can survive in this world now?”

“Snowstorms have struck the coastal borders, and a massive wave of refugees has flooded the heartland, fighting us for food. Bandits are everywhere. Look around you, Penglai has become a hellhole—open your dog eyes and take a good look!”

Emperor Bai stood speechless, stunned. That look—Tianfu Guard had seen it before, before they passed through the Taoyuan stone gate. He knew it too well. He quickly grabbed the Emperor’s hand and said softly, “Your Majesty, let’s go.”

And so began yet another flight, little different from before. The moon shone like frost, and a fierce wind blew as if to the death. They retreated toward Zhenhai Pass. But this time, their pursuers were close behind, and many soldiers died along the way. Even within their ranks, voices of betrayal began to rise.

Someone whispered, “The people’s fury is rising. Maybe… maybe we should just join them.”

Hearing this, the Tianfu Guard turned and barked, “What nonsense are you spouting? At this point, and you still want to turn your back on us?!”

The soldiers began arguing among themselves. One said, “His Majesty kept us stuck in Guixi for so long—not only did we find no way out, but many of our brothers froze to death. At this point, what hope do we have left by following him?” Such rebellious words spread like sparks on dry grass, and in a flash, they became a blaze. Many others echoed with righteous indignation: “Yeah, we’ve had enough of this suffering!”

Chaos erupted among the troops. Some even drew their blades, ready to fight. Suddenly, Emperor Bai shouted:

“Enough!”

The shout roared like thunder, shaking the hearts of all. No one dared to speak.

Emperor Bai swept his gaze across them and said coldly, “Those who wish to follow me, come. Those who do not—leave now, before my sword shows no mercy and takes your heads.”

The soldiers looked at one another. Many silently turned away and walked in the opposite direction, fading into the night.

The Tianfu Guard roughly counted. Only fifty-eight people remained behind him.

The remaining men were filled with righteous indignation and cried, “Those heartless traitors! His Majesty treated them well in the past, and yet they turned their coats at the last moment!” Someone tried to comfort Emperor Bai, saying, “Your Majesty, don’t lose heart. We are loyal and true—we would never abandon you.”

Seeing their anger and loyalty, Emperor Bai felt somewhat relieved. He smiled apologetically and said, “It’s my incompetence that caused you all to suffer with me. As long as the green hills remain, there will be wood to burn. Let’s leave this place and plan for the future later.”

The soldiers responded at once, and the group quickly made their way toward Zhenhai Pass. But just then, the Tianfu Guard suddenly heard a sound like the beating wings of locusts.

Emperor Bai, seasoned in battle, instantly understood what it was and shouted, “Shield formation—raise shields!”

Even as he spoke, he flung his cloak open like lightning and shielded the Tianfu Guard beneath it. He had once seen the Tianfu Guard perish in the Ming Sea—he would not stand by and watch it happen again. Several feathered arrows shot forward, embedding deeply into his back and bursting in a spray of blood. Emperor Bai let out a muffled groan, blood seeping from between his teeth. The Tianfu Guard cried out anxiously, “Your Majesty!”

“It’s nothing. You’ve always protected me…” Emperor Bai gasped, coughing, and drew the Hanguang Sword to deflect a few more incoming arrows. “Now it’s my turn to protect you.”

When the arrowstorm passed, they scrambled to their feet in disarray, only to see that the soldiers behind them had been turned into a field of iron spikes, most killed instantly. A few still lived, but they were coughing up blood and clearly wouldn’t last long. The Tianfu Guard felt as if his flesh were being sawn apart—within the blink of an eye, all their subordinates were wiped out. Firelight flickered in the darkness, converging on them in twos and threes. The Tianfu Guard quickly turned and held Emperor Bai, saying, “Your Majesty, we must go. We can’t stay here.”

But as he wrapped his arms around him, he felt his palms go wet. Looking down, he saw them soaked in blood. Alarmed, he checked Emperor Bai’s wounds—arrows were buried in his back, some piercing all the way through his chest, their heads protruding from the front. His pale cloak had been stained deep red in layers. The Tianfu Guard went cold all over and cried out in shock:

“Your Majesty!”

“I… I can still go on. Let’s move.” Emperor Bai coughed violently, smiling through cold sweat.

The Tianfu Guard frantically searched his satchel, but couldn’t find any medicine. Much had already been used earlier. All that remained was a small blue-and-white porcelain vial containing Immortal Elixir. Now that Emperor Bai was gravely wounded, he had no choice but to treat a dead horse like a living one. He poured the liquid into the Emperor’s mouth and said, frowning, “Forgive this minister’s incompetence. This is all I have left to delay Your Majesty’s condition.” Emperor Bai coughed up more blood but chuckled, “If I drink this, maybe I’ll become an immortal—better than you, even.”

They fled toward the stone gate of Zhenhai Pass. From atop a ridge, they looked down to see a river of firelight forming a glowing dragon, its jaws agape, as if ready to tear them apart. In the distance, flagpoles rose into view, heads still dripping blood hanging from their tips. By the firelight, Emperor Bai recognized several who had once loyally served under him. Xian Mountain no longer belonged to him—he was now a deposed emperor in exile. He turned to the Tianfu Guard and gave a bleak smile:

“Let’s go. This is no longer my homeland.”

The two walked hand in hand toward the Taoyuan stone gate. This scene had played out hundreds, thousands of times before, and would continue to replay countless more.

They walked through ten thousand worlds, chasing the vision of a snow-thawed, spring-returning Penglai. Perhaps because this version of Emperor Bai had once known the pain of losing the Tianfu Guard, he was especially attentive to him in this life. They witnessed countless versions of Penglai engulfed in war and death, hunted by the Xian Mountain Guard, and suffered unending injuries. In every world, they carefully collected Immortal Elixir for emergencies.

This time, the Tianfu Guard finally tasted the sorrow the previous Emperor Bai had borne. Again and again, he watched Xian Mountain fall. The human spirit, over time, grows rusted and worn. He gradually became numb. No matter how many stone gates they passed through, what they saw was always the same: Xian Mountain overtaken by the Xian Mountain Guards, endless blizzards, people freezing to death. This time, it was Emperor Bai who comforted him from time to time, saying, “Minsheng, let’s keep walking. One day, we’ll find our ‘Peach Source.’”

The Tianfu Guard looked at him and gave a helpless laugh. Now it seemed their roles had reversed. He asked, “Your Majesty, have you considered the possibility that we might never find a Penglai where the snow melts and spring returns? That we’ll grow old wandering, like birds with no perch to land on?”

Emperor Bai smiled. “As long as you’re still here, that means I’m not without a place to rest.”

But gradually, the Tianfu Guard discovered that the Immortal Elixir was beginning to erode his body.

He had long sensed it, but never imagined death would press so close. His organs burned like fire, black veins spread from his skin up to his neck and face. Hallucinations became constant—he often saw a blurry, seven-eyed, nine-tentacled creature lurking in the corner of his vision, silently staring at him.

More than that, he noticed that Emperor Bai’s mind was also being consumed by the Immortal Elixir. Having suffered countless injuries without time to rest or recover, the elixir had become their daily sustenance. Though Emperor Bai showed no discouragement, he became overly spirited. Whenever he saw Xian Mountain at war again, he would seize the Tianfu Guard’s hand and say:

“Minsheng, let’s go find the next ‘Peach Source’!”

He would often smile and say to him, “It’s fine. We’ll definitely find Peach Source. There, Xian Mountain is full of peace and plenty, untouched by frost and dew.”

Even when faced with scenes of carnage, he could still smile and say, “One more world. If we pass through one more Taoyuan stone gate, we’ll surely find it.” His eyes gleamed with a dark light that filled the Tianfu Guard with inexplicable fear. It was as if that obsession had taken root—entrenched and tangled within him.

Emperor Bai began coughing up black blood.

Despite his body wasting away, his spirit remained unreasonably high. His pitch-black eyes were sunk deep into their sockets, like bottomless pits. Bit by bit, walking side by side turned into him dragging the Tianfu Guard along. He always smiled toward the road ahead and said, “Peach Source is just ahead.” It felt like iron filings were coursing through his veins, burning him with pain, and he scratched at himself relentlessly—sometimes tearing off rotting flesh.

One day, while choking and coughing, Emperor Bai turned to the Tianfu Guard and said, “Minsheng, I suddenly had a thought.”

The Tianfu Guard looked at him. By now, Emperor Bai was skin and bone, his face veined with black threads from the Immortal Elixir like a spiderweb. Yet he seemed unconcerned. He looked up at the sky and said, “I was thinking—we are mortal beings. What if we die before ever finding that Peach Source?”

“All lives have an end. That can’t be helped.”

Emperor Bai smiled, his eyes glinting with a chilling light. “Which is why I think… we should find successors to carry on our legacy.”

“Successors?”

“Yes. We’re in a desperate position. We could hire people with silver, but that’s not a lasting solution. If we try to win hearts through kindness, that takes too long…”

The Tianfu Guard said nothing. He felt that this no longer sounded like the Ji Zhi he once knew. Had he gone mad from the Immortal Elixir and prolonged torment? He could no longer tell who was mad—himself or Emperor Bai. Suddenly, Emperor Bai grabbed both his hands, his gaze dark and intense:

“I’ve got it. Let’s found a sect!”

“A sect?” The Tianfu Guard was stunned.

A waning moon hung in the sky like a drowsy eye, silently watching the two. Emperor Bai smiled. “Nothing binds people together better than a faith and its doctrine. If we build a sect to carry on our will, we’ll never lack successors.”

A cold wind swept across their backs, and the Tianfu Guard’s hair stood on end. Emperor Bai’s face was half-lit by moonlight, the other half steeped in shadow—more ink than light. Emperor Bai mused, “We are seeking a Penglai where the wind and snow cease—a ‘Peach Source’ from our dreams. Our disciples must be the same: seeking a Peach Source where frost cannot reach, even unto death. I once read in a book said to be from the ‘Nine Provinces’ that ‘Peach Source’ once had an ancient name—‘Da Yuan.’”

He gripped the Tianfu Guard’s hands tightly, like shackles—impossible to break free from. The Tianfu Guard suddenly felt afraid, as though he no longer recognized the man before him. Emperor Bai’s smile was cold:

“Then let us gather disciples and found a sect. Its name shall be—Da Yuan Dao.”