Su Yan felt a pang of disappointment. He had hoped the mysterious voice would teach him nuo secrets. Instead, it called his cultivation something else entirely.
"What is a Qi Refiner?" he asked. "Isn't my technique demon magic?"
The voice snapped back. "You practice a Qi Refiner's art, not demon tricks! As for nuo—what nonsense is that? Enough chatter. I'll teach you internal sight. Half-close your eyes until only a thread of light remains. Focus on the bridge of your nose. Hold a single thought—your consciousness itself. Now listen. Your eyes are sun and moon. Your hair is stars. Your brows are the canopy. Your head is Kunlun. Arrange the palace halls. Settle your spirit!"
Su Yan obeyed. His eyes drifted half-shut. A thin line of light lingered in his vision.
"Refine consciousness into divine sense," the voice thundered. "Then you will see that light as a door. Push through, and you enter the Realm of Silence within your own body. But this takes days. Come back when—"
The voice cut off with a strangled gasp.
A faint golden glow pulsed behind Su Yan's half-closed lids. Divine sense. He had done it in moments, not days.
The source of the voice was the great bronze bell hiding inside his skull. Last night it had slaughtered enemies on the River of Death. Then the girl in the coffin broke free and wounded it mortally. It had crashed down Mount Jian, rolling and tumbling until it lay beside a stream. Too weak to heal itself, it sensed Su Yan's approach—and his nature as a Qi Refiner. It hid inside his mind to steal his qi and blood for recovery. When it found he couldn't even cultivate properly, its frustration drove it to teach him.
Teach a man to fish, and you feed him forever. Make the horse run faster, and it eats more. If Su Yan cultivated faster, the bell could steal more qi. Simple arithmetic.
Still, the bell never expected him to form divine sense so quickly. In its era, even accomplished practitioners took days to achieve that first glimmer.
Su Yan's secret was the Grand Unity Daoyin Art. For seven years he had practiced holding a single thought—Grand Unity itself. That thought was empty, vast enough to contain all his spirit. When the bell showed him how to refine thought into sense, the path lay open like a highway.
"Not bad," the bell muttered. "Now, to gather the five qi toward the origin."
Su Yan guided his divine sense upward. From the inverted mountain-peaks of his organs, five streams of qi answered his call—crimson, azure, yellow, white, and black. They swirled together, fused, and blazed with golden light. Pure primal qi flooded his body, washing away old injuries.
The bell trembled with shock. This boy was one stroke shy of genius.
* * *
Yuan Qi watched from nearby. Su Yan's aura had surged to terrifying heights—then collapsed like a drained pond. The snake yao's face twisted with worry.
"That cursed bell is devouring him," Yuan Qi thought. He gathered his courage to speak up.
A bell tone rang in his mind. Yuan Qi's courage evaporated. "A few drains won't kill him," he decided, and said nothing.
* * *
At the foot of Mount Jian, a village froze in terror.
A giant strode into the hamlet—fourteen feet tall, bare-chested, azure sashes coiling around his frame like living serpents. A ship's wheel of sacred light spun behind his skull. He wore nothing but short trousers. Every muscle looked carved from granite.
Incense smoke clung to him, the offerings of two hundred and thirty-four years.
Villagers hid their livestock. Women smeared their daughters' faces with hearth-ash.
The giant stopped, grabbed an old man, and boomed: "Five chickens. Two jars of wine. Boiled plain, salt and star anise only, cooled in spring water."
The old man wept. "Great Lord, I own two hens. They lay eggs I sell at market. I have never tasted wine myself."
The giant dropped him. "Shall I eat you instead? Search the village!"
The old man scrambled to beg neighbors for chickens and thin wine.
As the giant ate, he spoke. "I am Lord Yang of Yangzitang, two hundred and thirty-four years of worship. I hunt the criminal Su Yan."
He spotted a girl cowering nearby. "Twelve? Too young. In two years, don't marry. I'll come for you properly."
Then he sensed something at the village edge.
A lean teenage boy approached, ragged clothes hanging off broad bones. Dark circles ringed his eyes. Behind him slithered a massive black-and-white serpent, several zhang long, heavy with yao presence.
"Su Yan, the God-Slayer!" Lord Yang laughed and rose, his voice like thunder. "Other gods chased northwest. I stayed behind. Smart, yes?"
Su Yan did not flinch.
Yuan Qi shouted: "You know who he is? Magistrate Ding and Warden Wei died by his hand! The Stone Mountain God fled with one leg! Leave now, and the Young Master spares you!"
Lord Yang smiled. "Stone Mountain God is a yao king. Those nuo masters were weak. How do you know I am weaker?"
He flicked a finger. A ribbon of incense shot out, pierced Yuan Qi's body, and nailed the snake yao to the ground.
Yuan Qi howled. "I have nothing to do with your fugitive!"
Lord Yang ignored him. A long sword of incense formed in his palm. "Kneel, Su Yan. Don't resist. I'll take your head to the City God."
"Kneel?"
Su Yan stared at his scarred fists, then lifted his head. His eyes burned like stars in the dark.
"When I killed the god of Jiangjia Village, I swore I'd never kneel to clay idols again. I was born free. Anyone who calls me slave, anyone who demands I kneel—I'll crush them."
Crimson qi boiled behind him. An elephant-headed god rose fifteen feet tall and roared.
* * *