The four of them had only just managed to struggle free from the mountain of bat corpses, yet each was in a wretched state — their bodies smeared with foul, dark-hued blood; and as for the smell, it was nothing short of unbearable.
All four of them were disciples of Qingyun Sect, always known for their poise and propriety. Lu Xueqi of Bamboo Peak in particular was forced to witness this scene firsthand — and truly, it pained her more than if she had taken three sword cuts herself.
The four of them scrambled away as fast as their legs would carry them, each wanting nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between themselves and that revolting heap of bat corpses. They walked without stopping until they had gone a great way off, finally coming to rest on a stretch of rock that was, at least, reasonably flat. For a long while they beat and shook out their clothes, but all they managed to dislodge were a few stray bits of debris — the bloodstains left by the bats, and that putrid, reeking stench, clung to them stubbornly and refused to leave no matter what they did.
Zhang Fan and the other two men were faring somewhat better, but Qi—whose face was ordinarily cold and distant—now wore an expression even more like frost and snow. She scrubbed furiously at her clothes, rubbing hard, utterly determined not to stop until every last one of these revolting things had been scoured from her body.
But the bloodstains seemed particularly viscous, and before long, Qi Hao, Zeng Shushu, and Zhang Fan all gave up the effort. Only Xueqi, her face drained of color, refused to stop. The three men exchanged glances; even the most seasoned of them, Qi Hao, now wore an expression of faint helplessness, at a loss for what to say.
Just as the four of them stood in silence, with only Xueqi furrowing her brow as she rubbed and wrung her clothing, a sudden shriek of wind split the air above. Everyone looked up to see four streaks of light flash across the sky—two yellow, one white, one cyan. Moments later, the four streaks descended before them, and as the brilliance faded, four figures materialized.
On the left stood two monks. The one slightly behind was tall and powerfully built, with thick brows and enormous eyes, his face full of hard flesh—a man whose very stillness radiated authority. Had he not been robed in a kasaya, passersby might well have taken him for a highwayman. But the monk standing before him was a full head shorter, a young man utterly unlike his companion: fair-skinned, bright-eyed, dressed in a moon-white kasaya that made him appear somewhat slight of frame—yet somehow, no one who looked at him felt the least impulse to underestimate him.
The two on the right were a young man and a young woman. The man was strikingly handsome, the woman gracefully lovely; standing together, they were a perfectly matched pair—like the Golden Boy and Jade Girl attending before the throne of the immortals.
The four of them turned to look at the four members of Qingyun Sect. Seeing the blood and grime on their bodies, all of them frowned slightly. The young, fair-complexioned monk was the first to intone a Buddhist invocation—"Amitabha"—before asking, "May I inquire, are the four of you disciples of Qingyun Sect?"
The four from Qingyun exchanged a glance. Qi Hao stepped forward from among them, returned a bow, and said, "Indeed. I am Qi Hao. May I ask who you all are...?"
The young monk smiled faintly. "This monk is Faxiang of Yinsi Temple, and this is my junior brother Fashan. As for these two beside us, they are outstanding disciples of Fenxiang Valley — Li Xun and Yan Hong."
The tall and burly Fa Shan offered a greeting in his deep, resonant voice, but Li Xun and Yan Hong of Burning Incense Valley wore expressions of haughty arrogance, each giving only the slightest nod — as though that alone were sufficient to count as an exchange of courtesies.
Qi Hao's brow furrowed. Without sparing a glance at the two from Fenxiang Valley, he turned to Fa Xiang and said: "Senior Brother Fa Xiang of Yangyin Temple — your name has long been celebrated among the righteous cultivators as a talent rarely seen in a thousand years. Meeting you today, I see that your bearing truly lives up to the reputation!"
Faxiang smiled gently. "Elder Brother flatters me too much. This monk is of dull and clumsy aptitude — it is only thanks to my benevolent master Puhong, who did not cast me aside and imparted the true Dharma to me, that I may hope to do some small good for the common people of this world. I would never dare to count myself among the esteemed Elder Brothers of Qingyun Sect."
Qi Hao laughed heartily and waved his hand. "Senior Brother, you are far too modest. Allow me to introduce my junior brothers and sisters to everyone." He proceeded to introduce Zhang Fan and the other two in turn. Zhang Fan exchanged greetings alongside his companions, but for reasons he could not quite place, he noticed that when Qi Hao introduced him, the Faxiang's gaze seemed to brighten ever so slightly — lingering on him just a moment longer than the rest.
By now, Li Xun of Fenxiang Valley—who had been left standing to the side since the conversation began—wore a decidedly sour expression. The moment Qi Hao finished his introductions, Li Xun suddenly spoke, his tone frigid: "Brother Qi, your Qingyun Sect has always prided itself as the leader of the righteous path, your Daoist arts unrivaled under heaven. How is it, then, that on first meeting today, every single one of you looks such a sorry mess?"
The faces of all four from Qingyun Sect changed at once. Zhang Fan watched the newcomer's insufferably arrogant bearing with undisguised contempt, and as his gaze swept sideways he noticed that Lu Xueqi had at some point stopped brushing the dust from her robes. Her jade face had gone cold as frost, and she was staring icily at the two from Incense Valley—though more of her gaze was locked in a silent contest with the beautiful woman called Yan Hong.
Qi Hao was, after all, a man well-seasoned in the ways of the world. Though a flicker of irritation stirred within him, he recovered quickly and broke into an easy laugh. "I owe you all a candid confession—last night, I arrived here with three fellow disciples, intending to seek out the Ten-Thousand-Bat Ancient Cave. We little expected to run headlong into a swarm of countless bats..."
Upon hearing this, the expressions of all four—Fa Xiang and his companions—shifted. The towering, broad-shouldered Fa Shan widened his eyes and said in a gruff voice: "It's the countless beasts inside the Ten-Thousand Bat Ancient Cave—savage and cruel, and very hard to deal with."
Qi Hao was sharp-witted; a single listen told him these four had likely arrived a few days earlier and already run into these infuriating creatures. His mind raced, but just then a clear, ringing laugh sounded from behind him — Zeng Shushu stepped forward with a smile and turned to Fa Shan. "Brother Fa Shan, so it seems you've also had an encounter with these bloodsucking bats?"
Fa Shan nodded. "Seems like a straightforward one. There were too many of those bats — we had no choice but to fall back."
Zeng Shushu let out a sigh. "I must confess to you all — last night, we too encountered those bats. We had every intention of ridding the people of this menace, yet from dawn to dusk we fought without rest. No matter how hard we pressed, we could never kill them faster than they came. In the end, we had no choice but to drive the fiends back into their cave — and even then, we returned covered head to toe in filth. Shameful. Truly shameful!"
He turned back to look at Qi Hao. Their eyes met, and both broke into a smile before speaking in unison: "How shameful! How shameful!"
Everyone's expression shifted. Li Xun of Burning Incense Valley let out a cold snort, his face etched with contempt; the beautiful woman Yan Hong looked somewhat bashful, yet her features plainly betrayed her disbelief. Fa Xiang of Yin Temple smiled but said nothing, while Fa Shan's face broke into open admiration. Zhang Fan, for his part, froze for a moment, casting a glance at the two whose smiles shone with unrestrained brilliance.
A moment later, Faxiang smiled and said: "Regarding the matter at Kongsang Mountain this time, the elders of our three sects had already intended for us younger generation to gain some experience through trials. Now that everyone has assembled — though our fellow disciples from Qingyun Sect have traveled far and must be weary — why don't we rest for a day first, and at first light tomorrow, enter the Ancient Cave of Ten Thousand Bats to investigate?"
At this moment, Li Xun, who was standing to one side, let out a cold snort. "Senior Brother Xiang makes a fair point. Otherwise, once we're inside, someone will start looking for excuses again."
Apart from Zhang Fan, which among Qi Hao, Zeng Shushu, and Lu Xueqi — all disciples of the prestigious Qing Yun Sect — had not been lavished with their masters' favor within their respective lineages? Which of them did not carry a thread of pride deep in their bones? At that moment, Qi Hao gave a cold snort: "Senior Brother is indeed right. Otherwise, in my current state of exhaustion, if I were still expected to come to your rescue, I'm afraid I would be utterly powerless to do so!"
Li Xun had clearly not anticipated that the disciples of Qingyun Sect would be every bit as arrogant as this, one after another. He hailed from Burning Incense Valley, where he had been held in high regard by his elders since childhood and had trained in the arts of Cultivation. Among his peers, barring a scant few, there was none who could match him—a circumstance that had given rise to a supremely conceited nature that looked down on all the world. How, then, could he endure such an affront? His expression darkened at once, and he fixed his gaze on Qi Hao, saying: "If that is so, Senior Brother Qi's Cultivation far surpasses mine. I would very much like to seek your instruction."
With the sect's honor at stake, Qi Hao straightened up and was about to step forward—when Lu Xueqi suddenly emerged from behind him. She stepped gracefully into the center of the field and said coolly: "There is no need for Elder Brother Qi to trouble himself. Allow me to experience the immortal arts of Incense Valley."
Li Xun was suddenly struck dumb. Though Lu Xueqi was drenched head to toe in blood, the jade skin of her face appeared all the whiter for it—pure as snow. Her expression was cold, yet within that icy composure lay an ethereal, otherworldly beauty that seemed to look down upon all living souls with serene disdain. He had never laid eyes on such peerless loveliness; for a moment, he simply stood there, transfixed.
At that moment, Yinsi Faxiang stepped forward with a smile. "Fellow senior brothers," he said, "we came here to investigate the remnants of the Demonic Sect. Surely our masters and elders gave us their guidance before we departed — if they were to learn that we had let our tempers get the better of us here, I fear we would not escape punishment upon our return. Besides, this is a minor matter at its root. Why not let everyone take a step back?"
Li Xun came back to herself, let out a soft snort, and tilted her head upward. Though she said nothing, her meaning was perfectly clear. At that moment, Qi Hao's thoughts turned to True Person Daoxuan's parting instructions, and a pang of regret stirred in his chest. Seeing a ready chance to step down gracefully, he called out from behind: "Sixth Junior Sister, Senior Brother Faxiang makes a fair point—let us keep the peace."
Xueqi glanced at everyone, let out a soft snort, and walked back. Noticing that Zhang Fan was watching her, she swept her gaze briefly across his face, then turned and walked off alone to one side.
Zhang Fan caught her glance, and a sudden chill settled in his heart — an indescribable feeling rose and welled up within him.
Just then, Faxiang spoke again: "Since that is the case, let us descend the mountain first and return at dawn tomorrow to investigate."
By this point, no one raised any objection. Faxiang led the way, and the others followed, riding their swords through the air until they reached a hillock some thirty li from Kongsang Mountain. To their surprise, a curve of clear spring water still flowed there—exactly what the Qingyun Sect members needed. They gathered at the water's edge to wash and refresh themselves, then found a secluded spot to change into clean clothes before emerging to meet with Faxiang and the rest.
Being a woman, Xueqi found it inconvenient and had to seek out the most secluded spot to change, so she was the last to emerge. When the others looked her way, they saw that after washing and tidying herself, she was radiant — atop her original delicate beauty, there was now an added touch of alluring charm. Eyes lit up all around at once. It was not only Zeng Shushu, Li Xun, and the rest who couldn't keep their gazes away; even Yan Hong of Fragrant Incense Valley, who had been silent the whole time, found herself glancing over more than once.
The eight most "outstanding" disciples of the three great orthodox sects sat gathered on the ground in a circle. As they spoke, Zhang Fan learned from Faxiang and the others that the bats dwelling within the "Ten-Thousand Bat Ancient Cave" on Kongsang Mountain were an aberrant breed once reared by the Demon Cult in ages past—savage and cruel, with an instinctive craving for blood, they had served as the Cult's willing accomplices. Eight hundred years ago, when the Demon Cult's stronghold in this place was annihilated, a small number of bats survived. As the days and years passed, they multiplied and flourished until they had swelled to the vast colony that existed today. Whenever they sallied forth to feed, they left the surrounding five hundred li utterly devoid of human life.
However, these bats appeared to dread sunlight, and so ventured out only at night, spending their days roosting within the Ancient Myriad Bat Cave. Last night, the disciples of Qingyun Sect had simply crossed their path by chance; should they ascend the mountain by day, they would encounter no trouble at all.
Upon hearing this, Zeng Shu spoke: "Senior Brother Faxiang, since those beasts are all within the Myriad Bat Ancient Cave, how are we to enter and investigate?"
Faxiang hesitated for a moment. "From my observations these past days, these creatures only hang upside down from the roof of the ancient cave during daylight hours without stirring. We may well be able to enter."
Zeng Shushu was rendered speechless, while Zhang Fan couldn't help but say: "So even you, Senior Brother Faxiang, have no certainty about this — what if those fellows spot us entering the cave and come charging straight at us? What on earth would we do then?"
Faxiang looked over at him, a faint glimmer seeming to flicker in his eyes, yet his expression remained as gentle as ever. "This monk in truth has no certainty of success, but the Sect has given its orders, and what must be done must be done — why not give it a try? At worst, we simply withdraw. Today I came with my junior dharma-brother Fa Shan and two benefactors from Fenxiang Valley, intending to enter and investigate. Who would have thought we would encounter you all here? This is most fortuitous — more hands make for better looking after one another!"
It was Li Xun at the side who let out another cold snort. The four members of Qingyun Sect turned to look at him simultaneously, yet Li Xun showed not the slightest trace of fear—only when he caught Lu Xueqi's gaze did his expression shift, if only slightly.
Qi Hao paid him no mind and turned to Faxiang. "There is one more matter I would ask of you, Senior Brother Faxiang."
Faxiang said, "After you, Senior Brother Qi."
Qi Hao said: "Three months ago, Xiao Yicai—Senior Brother Xiao, a disciple of the main lineage of our Qingyun Sect—came here ahead of us. I wonder if any of you know where he might be now?"
Faxiang shook his head. "We came here together with the two from Burning Incense Valley, and have not encountered Senior Brother Xiao."
Qi Hao furrowed his brow, brooding in silence.
※※※
The following day, as the morning sun climbed the horizon, Zhang Fan and his seven companions made their way up Kongsang Mountain, only to find it utterly desolate—sand and gravel blanketing the ground as far as the eye could see. On so vast a mountain, not even the ordinary chirping of birds could be heard; they reckoned that the birds had either long since become fodder for those fearsome bats, or had already abandoned the peak entirely.
Faxiang and the others had arrived several days ahead of the group and had already located the Ten Thousand Bats Ancient Cave. Everyone followed along, proceeding with utmost caution every step of the way, until they finally reached the entrance of the Ten Thousand Bats Ancient Cave.
Here stood a vast cave carved into the mountainside, nestled in the shadow where sunlight never reached. It tilted gently downward, with only a faint glimmer of light near the entrance; beyond that, darkness swallowed everything whole. Though they stood still five or six *zhang* from the mouth of the cave, everyone felt the yin winds gusting out from within, brushing across their faces with a chill that seeped into the bone. Beneath it all came a faint rustling — like whispered words, like the weeping of ghosts — setting every heart on edge.
Qi Hao lingered a moment longer on the cave, then turned back and forced a laugh. "Well then — let's go in."
The crowd fell silent. Faxiang nodded and said: "Indeed. However, the dangers within this cave are difficult to fathom — it would be best for everyone to have their Immortal Artifacts ready, just in case."
With their lives on the line, no one dared be careless. Each of them reached for their Artifacts, gripping them ready. But when Li Xun, Yan Hong, and the two monks from Yinsi saw Zhang Fan produce a blackened, sooty fire poker, they all froze, staring at him in bewildered disbelief. Zhang Fan's face flushed red with embarrassment. Fortunately, at that very moment, Lu Xueqi stood wreathed in the eerie blue radiance of her Artifact and said coolly, "Let's move." She was the first to step toward the pitch-black cave mouth, and the others hurried after her — the awkward moment instantly forgotten.
Just as they neared the cave entrance and the yin wind grew ever colder and more sinister, Faxiang seemed to drift closer to Zhang Fan — whether by design or by chance. Zhang Fan noticed and offered him a smile; Faxiang returned it, then murmured softly, "Junior Brother Zhang, there are perils ahead. Stay close behind me."
Zhang Fan froze for a moment, only to see Faxiang had already stepped into the darkness. There was no time to dwell on it — watching everyone file into the cave, he hurried in after them.
Barely a few steps into the cave, Zhang Fan felt the ground give way beneath his feet and his whole body begin to sink. He was startled, but fortunately the sinking stopped at his ankles. The group was now swathed in darkness, though each had summoned their artifacts and immortal treasures, filling the air with streams of radiant light. Zhang Fan looked down at his feet — and his face immediately fell. Beneath him lay an enormous accumulation of bat guano, reeking with a foul and unbearable stench, his feet still buried in it. How wretched a sensation it was, words could hardly describe it. He lifted his gaze and saw that most of the others wore much the same expression. In particular, the two women — Xueqi and Yan Hong of the Fragrant Incense Valley — had their brows tightly furrowed, their faces drained of color.
Zhang Fan shook his head and barely managed to steady his nerves. Once everyone had grown accustomed to their surroundings, they pressed on deeper inside. At that moment, the rustling sound — like the whispered murmurs of demons — swelled louder all at once, seeming to drift from somewhere far away yet also hovering right beside them, in front and behind, left and right, everywhere at once.
They had gone another three or four zhang in this manner when Qi Hao, leading at the very front, suddenly said in a hushed voice: "Hold!"
Everyone stopped at once. Before them, Qi Hao's frost immortal sword rose slowly, its radiance brightening by degrees until the cave ahead was bathed in its glow—and in that moment, every last person held their breath.
It was an enormous cavern, its ceiling soaring to a tremendous height. Bathed in the pale white radiance of the ice immortal sword, everyone could clearly see that the uppermost reaches of the cave were packed with countless black bats hanging upside down in dense clusters—so numerous that the bare rock of the cavern ceiling was almost entirely obscured. The soft rustling sound they had heard was nothing more than the low murmur of these creatures rubbing against one another.
In the darkness, the bats caught in the white light seemed to sense unease and began to stir one by one—yet none took flight. Instead, they crawled along the rock face with their claws, retreating toward the shadows; some simply latched onto their own kind. Those gaping maws with their fearsome fangs, all the more horrifying in the dark, sent a chill through the heart.
No one dared breathe. After a tense pause, they gradually realized that although their light stood out starkly against the surrounding darkness, the bats seemed truly undisturbed — they would not attack. On perceiving this, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. Faxiang said in a low voice: "Fortunately, this monk's judgment was not wrong. Everyone, let us press on."
They turned and pressed onward, deeper into the terrifying ancient cave, toward the even more profound darkness beyond. With each step, the bat droppings beneath their feet grew thicker and thicker, while under the white radiance of the ice immortal sword, the bats clinging to the ceiling of the cave seemed inexhaustible—more and more of them, fangs bared, emitting low, murmuring cries as they swooped and shrieked all around. Had these eight not all been practitioners of righteous immortal arts with steely resolve, any ordinary person would have been driven to madness.
Just like that, without knowing how long they had walked, Zhang Fan moved along in the middle of the procession while Faxiang always kept to the path ahead of him. Watching this young monk before him — his moon-white robes now marred by a few spots of grime — Zhang Fan suddenly thought of Puzhi.
Could the one who dwelled in the depths of memory truly have come from the same place as this monk standing before him now?
Ahead, a faint cry suddenly rang out from Qi Hao: "Ah!"
Before Zhang Fan could come to his senses, he felt something strange beneath his feet — as though he had stepped down onto solid ground.