Chapter 237 — The Land That Must Not Be Entered

Atop the towering Soul Boat, amid the giant pillars, Shen Mu spread his six arms and gripped the pillars, like a giant undergoing punishment, gazing at the other world that had appeared before him. Behind him a waning moon drifted high in the sky, and now and then blazing meteors fell, striking all around the Soul Boat and lighting up the fathomless dark.

Behind that light seethed a chaos of monsters, jostling and clamorous.

But before him lay a pure land the darkness had never invaded — cut off from the world, silent, mysterious, brimming with the unknown.

It was hard to imagine that such a tranquil place could exist in the Wasteland.

Ahead lay a vast forest and unbroken ranges of mountains; farther still the earth broke off abruptly, as though it had been scooped hollow, and beyond a sea of cloud-wreathed peaks stood a city suspended in midair, like the dwelling place of immortals.

All around was a golden radiance of cloud; a sun blazed in the sky, palaces rose towering into the heavens, and at the cloud's edge floated peak after peak, their summits gleaming gold. Deep within the clouds stood towering god statues, like emperors guarding their own domain.

Colossal machines floated in the air, a thousand zhang above the ground, turning in utter silence; countless formations were branded into dark iron and dark gold, assembled into mechanisms of immense complexity, their power made substance, become streams of light that linked to the city, linked to the sky. But.

.

. all of it had been destroyed. Shen Mu was stunned.

Before him lay a shattered Wuyou Township: the resplendent sky city had collapsed and split apart, the cloud-piercing palaces were riddled with holes, the floating mountains were broken to pieces, rubble great and small drifting in the air and colliding in the sea of clouds; the towering statues too had been struck by some immense force, missing arms and legs, leaning askew.

At the center of that sun in the sky was a great black spot that had swallowed more than half of it, leaving only a golden halo around its rim, like a ring of gold.

The city above the clouds had become ruins; the giant machines standing in the clouds were damaged as well, their shattered components drifting quietly around them. A few of the colossal machines still turned, sustaining the barrier of Wuyou Township. Not far ahead of the Soul Boat, a plaque of enormous size stood slanting in the forest like a toppled monument, bearing the two characters Xiaobao. The plaque was broken.

A thread of grief suddenly rose in Shen Mu's heart; it grew with mad speed, and in an instant filled him entirely. In this world there was no more Wuyou Township.

No more place free of care. The giant standing on the Soul Boat, gripping pillar after pillar, as though helplessly enduring the punishment of Heaven, bowed his head.

He knelt, tears striking the hard ground drop by drop.

The homeland that had haunted his dreams was shattered, was gone. All this long searching, the homeland he had pictured in dreams, the kin at home, the neighbors, the friends — all at once, with the appearance of the world before him, they shattered and were extinguished, like a picture drawn in sand, scattered to dust and smoke at a breath of wind.

He had no home now; no mother in his imaginings waiting for her son's return, no stern father in his imaginings.

.

.

The dream had ended; he was still an orphan raised by the old, the weak, the sick, and the maimed.

His homeland had been destroyed.

The Dutian Demon King raised his head and gazed through the lattice window at the giant kneeling among the pillars.

The giant seemed wrapped in a hazy moonlight, his head bowed deep; only the heaving of his shoulders could be seen.

In that moment, the Dutian Demon King felt it as his own. When his own Dutian World was destroyed, he too had grieved like this, had been so broken with sorrow that he could not master his feelings; he had wailed aloud, cursed heaven and earth, his fury had reached the skies, he had struck out at the underworld messengers of Youdu, wanting to save the lives of his people!

He had been struck down more times than he could count, his body broken, his soul broken.

In the end he had yielded — yielded to fate.

In Shen Mu he saw another self, the self of his youth — a self about to be struck down, about to yield to fate.

Bereaved young, we lose our way; to and fro we rush like madmen. We dabble mud balls in the mud, never knowing the night-glowing pearl.

How many storms, how many ruinings — who will pause and turn in dread?

Where is the homeland? Where is my homeland? Shen Mu slowly raised his head, his gaze indifferent; his eyes gave off a bright, clear radiance like the bright moon.

When he closed his eyes the light vanished; when he opened them, they were like two full moons.

He stood on the Soul Boat, his heart surging, thoughts beyond counting, long unable to grow calm.

"I did not come here to seek Wuyou Township.

I came to find the Headman and Granny and the others.

They are my family; Yincan Village is my homeland — it is the Wuyou Township in my heart!

" Shen Mu steadied himself and looked around.

Suddenly he saw several stone statues placed at the edge of the barrier.

Even beings at the realm of Divine Communion found it hard to walk in the darkness of the Wasteland unless they carried a god statue on their backs; and the statues were exceedingly heavy — an ordinary sect-master-level existence could scarcely lift one, and even having lifted it, could hardly walk far. These stone statues must have been carried here by someone using great dharma power, to drive back the darkness.

After entering Wuyou Township, the statues had been left here.

Shen Mu's heart stirred. The Headman could walk in the darkness with the Alchemist in tow; he could withstand the various uncanny and inauspicious things in the dark.

As for the Silent Artisan, he too must have means to resist the darkness.

But Old Huo, the Lame Elder, the Butcher, and the Blind Elder would need the statues to walk in the darkness. Old Huo, the Lame Elder, and the Butcher had all regained whole bodies, and could carry god statues farther.

No one knew just how far the Deaf Elder's strength had reached, but his paintings possessed powers beyond the fathoming of gods and ghosts; the Imperial Preceptor of Jingping was a fanatical admirer of his, and took pride in collecting his paintings.

And Granny Zhu carried within her the sect master of the previous generation, Fan Xuanshu; she too should be able to move the statues.

These stone statues were most likely left by them. "So they found this place too.

Could it be that they entered, only to be trapped, and so could not return to the village for the New Year? " Shen Mu's eyes opened wide; he gazed all around, and a mighty power surged into his eyes as he drove the Nine Heavens Gazing Eye Art the Blind Elder had taught him to its utmost: "I'm here, Headman, Granny — I've come to take you home for the New Year!

" He did not step directly into Wuyou Township, but first studied the movements within it. How powerful the Headman and the others were!

If they had truly entered Wuyou Township, then it could not be as tranquil as it appeared; there must be no small number of perils inside, enough to hold them trapped.

Even with the Soul Boat, Shen Mu's safety was not assured; there might yet be— Shen Mu's gaze fell on the forest before Wuyou Township.

He saw the traces the Headman and the others had left.

Great masters of divine ability like the Headman and the Silent Artisan had powers that reached the heavens; their arts would leave terrifying destruction. Strangely, though, he saw the marks of their battles, yet the destruction was not great.

Following the traces with his eyes, Shen Mu saw several relics in that forest, and the route the Headman and the others had taken ran exactly along these relics.