GD Ch. 32

Chapter 32: The Purpose of Coming Here

Outside, someone sneezed with such force that it resonated through the air, loud enough to be heard clearly despite the doors, windows, and the howling wind and snow. The paper pasted on the window frames flapped noisily, and if the wind grew any stronger, it would surely tear the paper apart.

Zhuyou’s fingertips tingled slightly, and in the darkness, her pupils suddenly contracted. She moved her hand, which was resting on her knee, and a small flame flickered to life on the lampstand, trembling under the gusts of wind sneaking through the cracks in the window.

Changying’s chin was resting on Zhuyou’s arm. She tilted her head, pressing half of her cold face against Zhuyou’s arm, looking both docile and silent.

“Do you know that I just entered someone else’s dream?” Zhuyou hesitated, wondering if she should push Changying away. The child’s coldness was making her arm go numb.

Since waking up earlier that day, Changying had grown even colder, to the point where she no longer seemed like a living being.

Changying nodded slightly, almost dismissively, with the barest movement.

“Tell me, whose dream did I enter?” Zhuyou concealed the surprise in her eyes.

Changying didn’t respond. As the oil lamp brightened, her golden pupils dimmed slightly, but her fingers remained on Zhuyou’s arm, as if she had caught some prey. Her hand slid down slightly, covering the back of Zhuyou’s hand.

How big could a child’s hand be? It was small, soft, and tender, but icy cold.

Zhuyou pushed her hand away and gently nudged her head back, her gaze dark and unreadable. “At such a young age, you should answer when I ask you something. Why are you being disobedient again?”

Changying seemed to understand what “obedient” meant. In her childlike voice, she said, “I don’t know.” After a pause, she added with complete honesty, “I don’t know whose dream you entered, but I feel… you must have entered a dream.”

So, she was just guessing based on a feeling? Zhuyou thought to herself.

She lowered her eyes, meeting Changying’s cold gaze. The little dragon was eerily calm, pressing herself against Zhuyou as if seeking warmth.

“Are you messing with me?” Zhuyou narrowed her eyes, her voice cool.

Changying, however, either didn’t understand or was pretending not to. A hint of confusion flashed in her eyes, and she asked in a soft, cold voice, “Messing? How?”

Zhuyou raised her hand and lightly flicked Changying’s forehead with her index finger. A red mark immediately appeared on the child’s pale, bloodless face.

With that touch of pink, Changying now looked more like a living dragon.

Zhuyou couldn’t resist flicking her again, this time even more gently, leaving a matching mark on the other side.

Changying covered her forehead, her pale lips pursed slightly. Though her eyes were filled with a fierce aura, she didn’t utter a single word of complaint.

Zhuyou’s heart remained unsettled. It wasn’t fear, but rather a reluctance to let the dragon slip out of her control so quickly. After a moment’s thought, she crooked a finger at the dragon whose forehead she had just flicked. “Come here.”

Changying obediently leaned closer, her face tilted up slightly, as if she didn’t feel any pain at all.

Zhuyou couldn’t tell if the dragon truly held no grudges or was just pretending. She pressed her warm finger against Changying’s brow and suddenly entered the misty sea of consciousness.

The sea of consciousness was as usual, unchanged, suggesting that Changying still had no memories.

Zhuyou withdrew her hand, her unease slowly fading. She closed her eyes and began meditating again. She had only been distracted for a moment, entering a dream, and now her vision was blurry once more. The spiritual energy required to suppress the toxic mist in her eyes was increasing.

Seeing that Zhuyou hadn’t kicked her out, Changying leaned against her and fell asleep, as if claiming her territory.

***

On the day Shenhua Mountain opened its gates, the main peak was shrouded in incense smoke, with the mountain mist rolling in. The leaders of various sects had gathered, all except for Zhou Xizhao.

Zhou Xizhao, who was supposed to preside over the ceremony, remained secluded in the high tower behind the incense burner, still refusing to come out.

The grand formation had already been set up at the foot of the mountain, waiting for the sect masters on the peak to give the order. With the toll of the bell, the senior disciples in the formation would activate the array, channeling their spiritual energy into the Heaven-Observing Mirror to inform the celestial beings that the restrictions on the lake should be lifted.

Disciples from the eight major sects had already gathered at the foot of the mountain. Most had reached the Golden Core stage, some had even formed their Nascent Souls, while others were still at the Foundation Establishment stage, and a few were merely refining their qi.

Zhuyou stood among the crowd, once again inhabiting a mortal’s body, blending in seamlessly. Beside her stood Hanzhu, but the dragon was missing. The missing dragon had long been tossed into a mustard seed space, unable to enter a human body.

She couldn’t understand how this dragon had grown. Despite appearing half-dead and sickly all day, its divine soul was so powerful that the mortal body couldn’t withstand it.

Changying had tried to sneak into the mortal’s body earlier, but Zhuyou caught her in the act. Seeing that the body was about to bleed from all seven orifices, she quickly pulled Changying out.

A divine offspring, yet she had learned nothing proper. Barely descended to the Mortal Realm, and she almost caused a death. Truly rebellious.

Helpless, Zhuyou had to place Changying in the mustard seed space and carry her around. She also cast a spell on the disciple to prevent him from suddenly waking up and foolishly participating in the ceremony, disrupting her plans.

She scanned the crowd and found the fool whose dream she had entered. The fool’s clothes were disheveled, wearing a rough disciple’s robe instead of the black outfit from the dream, and he held no sword.

The fool stood with his head bowed, looking dazed. Beside him stood the very person who had bullied him. Perhaps afraid of brushing sleeves with the bully, he clasped his hands in front of him, gripping the wide sleeves tightly.

As if sensing someone’s gaze, the fool looked up and saw a stranger staring at him. He quickly lowered his head, his bangs falling over his eyes, obscuring his gaze.

The stranger was none other than the body Zhuyou was inhabiting. She twirled a white mustard seed between her fingers, the dragon inside causing the seed to roll around incessantly.

Her gaze remained fixed on the fool. In the dream, he had slaughtered without hesitation, his eyes never reddening. But now, outside the dream, he cowered like a quail, weak and timid, unable to muster any fierceness.

She wondered if the fool had taken her words in the dream to heart. If he had even a hint of a vengeful spirit, he would surely enter Shenhua Mountain.

She wanted to see what the Three Lords would do if the fool really entered Shenhua Mountain. What were they truly plotting?

The bell tolled, its deep sound reverberating in everyone’s hearts, echoing across the main peak for a long time.

The senior disciples within the formation drew their swords, the tips scraping against the snowy ground as they released their spiritual energy, channeling it toward the Heaven-Observing Mirror at the center of the altar.

Where the spiritual energy passed, the thick snow on the ground seemed to explode, rising into the air and scattering everywhere.

Several beams of pure white spiritual energy descended from the sky like lightning, converging into the Heaven-Observing Mirror. This energy came from the sect masters on the main peak. Relying solely on the disciples would never have been enough to activate the mirror.

Zhuyou had little interest in the spiritual energy of these mortals, but to her surprise, the dragon in the mustard seed stopped stirring. She found it odd. With so much mixed spiritual energy around, why wasn’t Changying interested? The dragon was too picky, only craving her energy.

The streams of spiritual energy surged forward, condensing into a brilliant white light, like ethereal silk, silently sinking into the mirror.

In the past, the mirror would have rippled with several layers of waves, as if the frozen surface of a lake had thawed, signaling that the restrictions had been lifted.

But this time… no ripples appeared in the Heaven-Observing Mirror.

The sect masters standing on the main peak, all at the Great Ascension stage, could naturally see what was happening hundreds of feet away. Suddenly, a character appeared in the Heaven-Observing Mirror, and when they saw it clearly, their expressions changed drastically—

The character for “devil.”

The disciples in the formation were stunned and withdrew their spiritual energy, causing the grand formation to collapse. The character in the Heaven-Observing Mirror then dissolved like ink spreading in water, disappearing without a trace.

The other disciples, standing outside the formation, had no idea what had happened to the mirror. They only noticed that the disciples in the formation had turned pale and were trembling as if they had seen a ghost.

The crowd began to murmur, craning their necks to see what was going on, curiosity burning in their eyes.

One of the disciples in the formation was shaking so badly that he could barely hold his sword. His legs seemed to have turned to jelly, and his face was deathly pale.

Yet, the bell tolled again, and a voice from the peak, deep and hoarse, though not particularly loud, managed to drown out the low, resonant sound of the bell.

“Activate the formation.”

The voice was unmistakable—deep and gravelly. It was Zhou Xizhao.

Among the crowd, Zhuyou raised an eyebrow, clasped her hands behind her back, and quietly cast a spell to clearly hear the conversation among the sect masters on the peak.

“Sect Master Zhou, this must not be done!”

“The immortals have already warned of danger. Why are you insisting on opening the mountain?”

“If any of our disciples come to harm, how will Sect Master Zhou make amends?”

Yet Zhou Xizhao repeated, “Activate the formation.”

The disciples in the formation understood and straightened up. Even the one whose legs had turned to jelly had no choice but to channel his spiritual energy again.

Though Zhuyou stood far away, she could see everything clearly—not with her eyes, but with her divine sense.

The ancient character that had appeared in the Heaven-Observing Mirror earlier was as dark as ink, resembling the devil marks on her own body. She wondered if the character would reappear when the formation was activated again.

She didn’t know how the immortals in the heavens had detected the presence of a devil here—whether they had calculated it or… seen it.

The Heaven-Observing Mirror lit up once more, its surface like a pool of water, with glowing ripples slowly spreading to the edges. The mirror’s surface was hazy, as if covered in a layer of dust. If it were clearer, one might have been able to see the immortals in the heavens.

The character for “devil” did not reappear, but the ripples did, suggesting that the mountain gate had opened.

This time, with no “devil” character in sight, the sect masters on the peak felt slightly reassured, though they remained uneasy, wondering if the immortals had made a mistake the first time.

But how could the immortals of the Nine Heavens make such a mistake? For mortals seeking to ascend the heavenly ladder, one misstep could lead to disaster. For immortals, making a mistake would be a violation of heavenly law.

The sect masters looked up toward the tower, their expressions stern as they cupped their hands and said, “We hope Sect Master Zhou can provide guidance.”

From within the tower, Zhou Xizhao’s muffled voice echoed, “Since the restrictions have been lifted and the mountain gate is open, select disciples to enter the mountain. Be vigilant against devilish entities, and remember… do not let this matter disturb the disciples of the various sects.”

This was a clear order to keep the matter under wraps. The sect masters waved their hands, casting a silencing spell on the disciples who had been in the formation.

Hanzhu stood silently to the side, watching as the disciples in the formation turned pale and then red. Though they opened their mouths, not a single sound came out. She immediately understood—they had been silenced.

With the mountain gate open, regardless of whether there was a devil or not, Shenhua Mountain had to be entered. The immortals had already lifted the restrictions, and refusing to enter now would be a slight to the Heavenly Realm. Moreover, the mountain was filled with countless opportunities and spiritual treasures—who could resist?

Zhuyou twirled the mustard seed between her fingers, squinting up at the main peak. If the formation hadn’t been reactivated earlier, perhaps the mountain gate wouldn’t have opened. She wondered if Zhou Xizhao truly wasn’t afraid of the devil or if he was determined to open the mountain despite his fear.

From the memories of the body she inhabited, she only knew that Zhou Xizhao had emerged from Shenhua Mountain with his disciple years ago and had since become a recluse. She didn’t know what he had experienced.

Zhou Xizhao had his obsessions, and obsession easily breeds devils. Zhuyou smirked slightly, feeling no pity.

The disciples around her were buzzing with excitement. Hearing Zhou Xizhao’s command to “open the mountain,” their faces lit up with joy, and they eagerly headed toward the back peak, though some stayed behind to wait for their fellow disciples who had been in the formation.

The trembling disciple sheathed his sword and walked over. Someone asked, “What happened earlier? Why was the formation reactivated? I saw your face turn pale—did something go wrong?”

The disciple, still pale and shaken, tried to speak but couldn’t utter a word. His shoulders trembled uncontrollably. He looked around, frowning deeply, as if he couldn’t rest until he got the words out. After a long moment, he grabbed the questioner’s hand.

Zhuyou wasn’t in a hurry to leave. She sent a mental message to Hanzhu. You don’t need to follow me. Go to Shangxi City and find Wu Buzhi. Don’t linger in the Mortal Realm.

Hanzhu nodded, committing her mistress’ words to heart. She just wasn’t sure if Wu Buzhi truly knew who among them had mastered the ancient art of reconstructing the physical body.

She glanced down at the mustard seed her mistress held between her fingers, feeling somewhat relieved. The little dragon wasn’t clinging to her mistress’ side, which put her mind at ease.

It wasn’t that she disliked Changying—it was just that the sight of her made Hanzhu nervous. Ever since Changying had blasted her with a burst of spiritual energy that sent her flying, she had become even more convinced that the dragon shouldn’t get too close to her mistress.

Hanzhu pursed her lips and asked softly, “Should I take Changying back to the Devil Realm?”

Though the mental message should have been private, as soon as she spoke, the dragon inside the mustard seed began to stir again. The seed trembled violently between Zhuyou’s fingers, nearly slipping free.

Zhuyou tightened her grip, wondering if Changying had overheard something. She found it strange and frowned. “No need. You wouldn’t be able to handle her. This dragon is far more capable than she looks.”

Thinking back to the previous night, to Changying’s eerily calm golden eyes, Zhuyou felt a mix of emotions.

“But Mistress, if you keep her with you…” Hanzhu grew anxious. She truly didn’t want to see this dragon staying by her mistress’ side.

The dragon was clearly no pushover. She looked soft and delicate, like a breeze could knock her over, but who knew if her heart was black? If the dragon ended up completely dominating her mistress, what would they do?

It was almost laughable—a devil like her, afraid that a newborn divine offspring might have impure intentions.

Zhuyou shot her a sidelong glance, and Hanzhu immediately fell silent.

Not far away, the trembling disciple had grabbed his fellow disciple’s hand and was about to write something on their palm. Before the first stroke was even completed, Zhuyou already guessed what he was trying to convey.

Since speaking was forbidden, he resorted to writing. But as soon as he made the first stroke, his neck suddenly felt as if it were being choked. Not only could he not speak, but he also nearly lost his breath. He quickly withdrew the finger he had pressed against his fellow disciple’s palm, not daring to write another stroke.

Zhuyou saw him suddenly tilt his head back, gasping for air, and knew the silencing spell had taken effect, preventing him from both speaking and writing.

The fellow disciple was baffled and pressed, “Shixiong, what were you trying to write? What exactly happened to the Heaven-Observing Mirror?”

The group of disciples surrounding him turned their attention to the Heaven-Observing Mirror, only to see the bronze mirror, adorned with a phoenix holding a pearl, suddenly rise into the air and shoot toward the main peak, clearly reclaimed by the Huacheng Sect’s leader.

The disciple who had tried to write on the palm shook his head repeatedly, unable to utter a single word. He trembled as he walked, his steps unsteady.

“Shixiong, why aren’t you saying anything?”

How could he speak? He grabbed his fellow disciple’s hand again, intending to write instead of speak, but as soon as he extended his index finger, he hastily withdrew it, his face still pale, and continued to shake his head in silence.

The others had no choice but to follow him toward the back peak, assuming he was simply too frightened to speak.

Zhuyou, clutching the white mustard seed tightly, followed closely behind. For some reason, the dragon inside the seed seemed to have calmed down.

It wasn’t sudden—Changying had quieted down after Hanzhu left, no longer thrashing about inside the seed, behaving with an unusual docility.

Zhuyou didn’t know what kind of grudge existed between the dragon and the devil, but it seemed they couldn’t stand each other, almost as if they were competing for favor.

Inside the seed, Changying had stopped causing trouble, but her mental voice echoed in Zhuyou’s ear, soft and tender yet utterly emotionless.

I want to come out.

Zhuyou smirked. “Were you begging me? That’s not how one begs.”

Then how? Changying asked obediently, her childlike innocence almost convincing.

Changying’s naive demeanor made her seem like a child, but Zhuyou knew better. This four-legged creature was certainly not as young as she appeared. The art of reconstructing the physical body was something Zhuyou had only seen in ancient records, and she wondered where the dragon had learned it.

Life and death are intertwined, bound by cause and effect—where there is life, there must be death, and where there is death, there must be life. Yet this dragon defied that natural order without incurring the wrath of the heavens. There had to be some hidden secret behind it.

Zhuyou played along, pretending to believe her ignorance, and said slowly, “Naturally, you’ll have to offer something in exchange. But what can you give me?”

Changying hesitated for a moment, her voice soft and tender, perhaps due to a lack of energy. What do you want? 

But if she were outside the seed, Zhuyou would have seen her golden eyes, calm and indifferent, devoid of any emotion.

“Give me one of your horns,” Zhuyou teased, trying to scare the dragon.

She expected the little dragon to be frightened, but instead, Changying hesitated and said, My horns haven’t fully grown yet. Her childlike voice was soft, but her tone was flat and cold, spoken with utmost seriousness.

Zhuyou followed the group of disciples to the back peak. As soon as she landed, she saw the frozen pool, its surface now rippling with waves, much like the Heaven-Observing Mirror.

By the edge of the pool, several disciples were mustering their courage and jumping into the water.

Zhuyou scanned the area but couldn’t find the fool. She frowned slightly, wondering if he had already entered.

Whether it was due to someone’s arrival or the lifting of the pool’s restrictions, she caught a faint whiff of immortal energy in the air.

Changying began struggling inside the seed again. Despite her ability to escape at will, she remained inside, bumping around as if truly trapped. It was hard to tell if she was genuinely obedient or just pretending.

Will you allow it? The voice in Zhuyou’s ear spoke again, but this time… it sounded different.

Lifeless, like an ancient zither echoing from deep within the mountains, distant and cold.

Zhuyou, who had been searching for the fool, suddenly froze. A chill ran down her spine, and her hand at her side twitched. But in an instant, she masked her shock and slowly raised the white mustard seed to her eyes.

“Whose voice are you using to speak?”