The sorrow-faced elder fled down Mount Jiuyi, his heart hammering. Ten bowls of Mengpo's soup, gone. And the boy still remembered his bell.
He should have forgotten everything since age six. Should have woken believing himself a fire orphan from Sujiaping.
Instead he yawned and asked for his bell.
The elder spotted Zhou Qiyun standing on the trail ahead. The white-browed youth watched him with empty eyes.
"I chose Yongzhou for my tribulation," Zhou Qiyun said, "because it's my home. Because it's New Territory. Fewer entanglements. Fewer experts."
He stepped closer. "I raided twenty-six ancient tombs and thirty-four immortal mountains to prepare. They call me a grave-robber. Let them. Anyone who threatens my ascension dies."
The elder backed away, then shot into the sky.
Zhou Qiyun tilted his head. The world inverted. The elder found himself flying straight back toward his enemy.
They exchanged blows. The elder's finger broke with a crack. He tried again. The world twisted once more. Each escape became another collision. After three exchanges, he spat blood and barely broke free.
He found his companions—the white-robed old man and the red-dressed woman—playing chess on a distant peak.
"Zhou Qiyun!" he gasped.
Before they could react, a finger of light pierced the white-robed man's palm, chest, and spine. He collapsed, spraying blood across his own chessboard.
Zhou Qiyun's voice drifted from the trees. "More experts. But what do I fear?"
The red-dressed woman leaped. The world yo-yoed her back, again and again, each return costing her another mouthful of blood. After ten rounds, she crawled.
The sorrow-faced elder rallied. Together the three turned to mist and vanished.
Zhou Qiyun stood alone, wiping blood from his lip. His new immortal law still had gaps. It couldn't fully bridge his secret realms.
"Su Yan and Veyon must finish translating that scripture," he muttered. "I can't wait any longer."
The three elders landed ten thousand li away, gasping. They reported to a tiny dirt temple at the base of a nameless hill.
The elder wrote his report, rolled it into incense, and burned it before the shrine. A land god no larger than a child hopped out with a yellow paper reply.
"Upper management received it," the god chirped. "Wait for approval. Could take years."
"Years?"
"Bureaucracy. Out!"
They shuffled away. The white-robed man remembered his chessboard and rushed back. The board was gone. So were the pieces.
Zhou Qiyun had stolen them.
Back at the Phoenix Palace, Su Yan rubbed his temples. "That tea tasted strange."
"Probably medicine with a little tea," the great bell said.
Su Yan recounted the night. The bell asked about the mole he'd seen on Guo Xiaodie. Left side. Real, then. The great horror that blocked the Dao during his enlightenment was real too.
"We need to lose Zhou Qiyun," Su Yan said.
Behind him, Zhou Qiyun materialized.
Su Yan pivoted smoothly. "Lord Zhou! I was just saying we must translate Tuo's Immortal Scripture faster so you can ascend and we can be free."
Zhou Qiyun's expression softened. "That elder won't bother you again. Don't make me wait."
He turned and vanished.
Su Yan let out a long breath.