A willow tree stood by the River of the Dead. Beneath it: one table, two chairs, a teapot, two cups, and a green paper umbrella. An old man sat alone, his face etched with sorrow so deep it looked carved into bone.
Su Yan slowed his steps. The Bull Demons hovered behind him on coils of nether wind, feet not touching the ground. Their whips hung ready.
"A-Yan," Yuan Qi hissed. "This one means trouble."
Su Yan nodded. "He set this up. He won't let us leave easily."
He walked to the table, apologized for the intrusion, and sat. The old man poured tea. Su Yan ignored the cup.
"You know me?"
The old man smiled. His wrinkles folded like ancient paper. "I held you when you were small."
Su Yan studied him. Memories stirred—fragments of a village, a fire, parents he couldn't quite see. His head throbbed. "I don't remember you. My father was Xu Sanlang of Sujiaping. My mother was Luo Yinghua from the next village. I had an older sister—"
He stopped. His eyes reddened. The boy who'd bumped his leg on the Terrace of Homeland Gazing. The couple whose faces remained blurred.
Yuan Qi and the bell tensed. *Here we go again.*
"You had headaches even as a child," the old man said gently. "Drink. It helps."
Su Yan's skull felt ready to split. He set the cup down. "If you held me, you must know much about my childhood."
Lightning cracked overhead. The Shuikou Temple floated in the sky, and a voice thundered: "Snake-brat! Stop hiding! Come out and show me those sword tricks again!"
Su Yan, Yuan Qi, and the bell froze. The Bull Demons snorted, unconcerned.
Su Yan rose to leave. The old man waved him down. "He can't find us here. Judge Ling Youdao will pass soon and draw him away."
Su Yan's gaze sharpened. He silently activated his Heavenly Eye. Behind the old man sat a figure of boundless proportions, seated in void, radiating light that seared the eyes.
A Qi Cultivator.
Su Yan killed the technique immediately, heart pounding. *Like the girl in the coffin. But she said Qi Cultivators were extinct. Where did this one come from?*
The old man sensed something—a glance, then gone. He scanned the area. Ghost gods wandered among ruined temples. The white-robed master circled above. No one else.
"Perhaps a hidden expert," he murmured, then continued. "The white-robed master at Shuikou Temple is Chen Mianzhu, former emperor of the Zhudu Kingdom. He came to the divine lands to study, showed astonishing talent, and received the nuo master inheritance. He opened his Jade Capital Secret and found a mysterious legacy. Within a century, he reached Nuo Immortal stage."
Su Yan listened intently.
"Chen Mianzhu lived three hundred sixty-seven years. When he achieved Nuo Immortal status, he feared death. He used his kingdom's resources to build idols, gathered worship, and created the Shuikou Temple—one end connected to the living world, one to the dead. He hid his Inner-Realm Subtle Transformation in the underworld, intending to live forever between yin and yang. He enslaved gods to refine Spirit Pills and serve him. A fine immortal life. Until one day..."
"Someone cut open his Inner Realm with a sword," Su Yan said. "A supreme expert entered and killed him."
The old man's expression turned strange. "The intruder didn't kill him. The intruder *ate* him."
Ice slid up Su Yan's spine. "Ate him?"
He drank the tea without thinking.
The old man's voice dropped to a whisper. "Cleaned to the bone. Flesh, soul, everything. The eater was thorough, as if savoring a gourmet meal. Not a scrap wasted."
He swallowed, as if the thought made him hungry.
"That's why Chen Mianzhu's resentment runs so deep. He was eaten alive, piece by piece, until only skin remained. His consciousness is barely a remnant."
Su Yan nodded, sipping again. "No wonder he seems strong but not quite strong enough."
"He's a bag of skin. What power could he have? All show, no substance. He bullies lesser nuo masters, but real experts would crush him." The old man tilted his head. "There. Judge Ling has drawn him away."
Distant shouts faded. Su Yan stood, slightly dizzy. "My thanks, elder."
"Safe travels, young master."
Su Yan walked into the darkness with Yuan Qi and the demons. The old man watched him go, stunned.
He whirled. "Mengpo! You watered down the tea! No—you put tea in water!"
His hands shook. The legendary Brew of Oblivion had barely made the boy drowsy.
"I'll demand an explanation!"
He gathered the table and reached for his umbrella. His hand closed on empty air.
He reached again. Nothing.
"My umbrella! Which thief stole my umbrella?"
He scanned the darkness. "Was it that hidden expert? First they peeked at me, then they stole my umbrella—a show of force?"
He waited. Silence.
He backed away step by step, then leaped into the sky and vanished.
* * *
"Back at Mount Wuwang!" Yuan Qi wept with relief inside the Mud Pill Palace. "I nearly died twice. Never leaving again!"
The bell flew from Su Yan's head, a green paper umbrella in tow. "Saw it by the table leg. Took it while the old man was distracted."
Yuan Qi opened it. The umbrella expanded to cover his massive head. "A magic treasure! The second-in-command of Qinyan Cave deserves this!"
Su Yan examined the Soul-Lashing Whip. The skull at its tip chattered with glee.
"Why doesn't this hurt me?"
He handed it to Yuan Qi. "Hit me."
Yuan Qi wound up. "You asked for this!"
*Crack!*
Su Yan felt a faint tremor in his soul. Nothing more.
The Bull Demons roared and whipped Yuan Qi instead. The snake screamed, foam dripping from his jaws.
Su Yan pulled them off. "Why does it hurt him but not me?"
The bell rang once. Su Yan's vision doubled. He saw himself standing before his own body.
"That's your body," the bell said. "You're the soul."
The bell inspected him. "A-Yan... did you eat Myriad Souls Pills? Your soul is almost *solid*!"