Chapter 328 — Afterglow of the Past

They had reached the Yong River.

Shen Mu surveyed his surroundings. When the village head had brought him in search of Wuyou Township, they had passed near this place; the village where the underworld courier gathered and guided the souls of the dead could not be far from here. Five or six days' travel at most, and they would be back in Yincan Village.

It was already the end of the eighth month, and the sun still blazed fiercely, the proud sun straddling the sky. All in all, it had been a rather rugged journey. When Shen Mu had walked out of the capital in the company of Crown Prince Ling Yushu, it had still been the season of bright spring; now it was already late summer. Another season, and it would be time to return to the village for the New Year.

The experiences and encounters along the way could only be called legendary.

They traveled downstream along the river. Suddenly a gust of watery vapor blew off the water, and then a vast white mist sealed off the great river, so that nothing could be seen in any direction.

Shen Mu halted at once, and the others hurriedly stopped as well, standing motionless upon the river's surface.

Xiong Xiyu's heart tightened. She said in a low voice, "A demon?"

Shen Mu shook his head. "Doesn't seem like it. More likely one of the Ruins' uncanny things."

Just then, the Wuyou Sword in the wooden scabbard at his back began to ring with a tinkling chime. Shen Mu's heart stirred slightly. The Wuyou Sword seldom rang of its own accord; the last time it had done so was when they encountered the treasure ship of his father, Qin Hanzhen.

The Wuyou Sword trembled without cease, and from within the mist came gradually the clamor of men and horses, as though countless troops were passing through this place. Xiong Qi'er cried out softly, "Look at the ground beneath us—the water is gone!"

Shen Mu hastily looked down. The Yong River beneath their feet had vanished without their knowing when, replaced by dry yellow earth.

The mist gradually thinned and faded, and all around them many moving figures could be dimly seen.

Shen Mu, Xiong Xiyu, and the others could not help but go rigid, their bodies stiff. All around them stretched a vast desert of gobi, yellow sand filling the sky, and tens of thousands of divine power wielders, all dressed in ancient styles, were leading great beasts in the construction of colossal buildings.

These structures did not look like dwellings for humans. The towers were tall and imposing, the pagodas thrust straight into the clouds, the palaces glittered with gold—they seemed the dwelling places of giants or of gods.

And upon the tall divine altars stood figures of gods shining with golden light, some with birds' heads and human bodies, some with beasts' heads and human bodies, clad in golden armor, their sacred pupils radiating light.

These were living deities; it seemed that wherever their bodies stood, there was eternal daylight.

Under their supervision, tens of thousands of divine power wielders were building a whole complex of divine palaces, grand and magnificent in scale.

But—was not the place where they stood the Yong River?

How could this be a desert?

Several chi dragons came racing through the sky, drawing a jeweled carriage, and from afar a voice shook heaven and earth: "By the Supreme Emperor's decree: the Ministry of Works shall oversee the building of the Western Palace, and open up waterworks and roads!"

Shen Mu was slightly startled. "The Supreme Emperor? The third move of the sword manual the village head taught me is the Supreme Emperor's Tribulation Stirring! What connection is there between the Supreme Emperor of that move and the Supreme Emperor of this decree?"

A deity standing upon an altar, dragon-headed and human-bodied, bowed to receive the decree. Its body suddenly shook and transformed into an azure dragon, which gathered clouds and loosed rain in midair, summoning wind and waves, drawing down great waters to irrigate the desert.

At the same time, another deity leaned upon a bronze plowshare, its body becoming a giant, splitting mountains and digging canals, channeling the waters.

Another deity brought out a precious vase and floated in midair; the vase turned downward, and at once a surge of green poured forth—the desert became grassland, and dense forests grew with wild abandon.

Yet another deity brought out a great cauldron; the cauldron touched the ground, and at once mountain ranges rose from the earth, the terrain transformed, and the great desert became green mountains.

Shen Mu and the others stared blankly at the scene. These gods of the Supreme Emperor's age used boundless power to remake heaven and earth; seas turning to mulberry fields was no more than this.

"This great river should be the Yong River, shouldn't it?"

Shen Mu was dazed. He saw the deity holding the bronze plowshare carve out a main channel; the great river was very long, rushing eastward.

The form of this great river was somewhat similar to the Yong River, but the course of its channel was not entirely the same. It resembled the Yong River, yet its waters were not as mighty.

Just then the mist surged in again, drowning everything before them. In a daze they felt the earth shake violently, and a tremendous sound like the heavens collapsing and the earth splitting apart. Within the mist was a scene of the end of the world: the sky spinning, the earth overturned, volcanoes and meteors, thick smoke and thunder, drowning the once-glorious palaces and burying a civilization.

They heard a rumbling sound behind them and turned to look. Within the mist a great chasm was slowly rising, cutting the continent in two.

The mist gradually dispersed, as though the rust of time and space were vanishing bit by bit. The chasm behind them slowly grew clear again, and a waterfall came rushing down to merge with the Yong River.

The yellow sand beneath their feet turned back into flowing water, rushing eastward without pause day or night.

Splash, splash.

The two white bats hanging upside down from the dragon qilin's chin were stunned. Their claws lost their grip and they fell into the water. The two white bats hurriedly flew up out of the water and clung to each other, trembling: "The Ruins are too uncanny! Sect Master Shen, hurry and send us back to Ming Valley!"

Shen Mu did not know whether to laugh or cry. "Brothers Bat, you two are yourselves part of the Ruins' uncanny things—and you still say the Ruins are too uncanny? You two in Ming Valley have frightened more treasure hunters who blundered in there to death than anyone can count."

The two white bats looked at each other. "We two are uncanny things too?"

Shen Mu was both exasperated and amused. These two brothers had not the slightest self-awareness. The uncanny things of Ming Valley were terrifying beyond measure—all manner of uncanny beings, such that even a heavenly being could hardly claim to escape unscathed. And these two brothers were the guardians of Ming Valley, uncanny things among uncanny things.

The mist around them had still not fully dispersed. Gazing into the distance at the chasm, all was hazy and indistinct.

Suddenly, clumps of mist walked toward them, and by the time they reached them they had become gray-white figures, which passed through their bodies with a soft puff.

The others hurriedly turned around, and saw those mists gather together again. From within the mist a voice said, "What happened in the Age of the Supreme Emperor? Why did this magnificent era vanish from between heaven and earth? Was what just happened the afterglow of history? Things that happened in history branded into time, and by some chance coincidence reenacting that scene from history? This land is truly wondrous, and the ancient empire is astonishing as well."

"Your Majesty, the Daoist sect and the Great Tingming Temple have preserved some records. If Your Majesty issues a decree, they need only send those records over."