On Mount Jiuyi, the two most powerful beings in the world faced each other.
The Emperor stood before the great hall, imperial authority radiating from every pore. Zhou Qiyun waited at the cliff's edge, plain as a farmer, dangerous as a drawn blade.
"Zhou Qiyun," the Emperor sneered. "The great schemer, outschemed by a village boy. Su Yan played you like a fiddle, and you danced for him. Some white-browed ancestor you are."
Zhou Qiyun's expression remained placid. "Your Majesty was born clever. You aimed to surpass every sage-king in history. But to take the throne, you chained yourself to the Li and Guo clans. Then you tried to break those chains. How does a rider break his own horse while sitting in the saddle?"
The Emperor's jaw tightened.
"They call you a restorer of glory," Zhou Qiyun continued. "But you've done nothing. You have ambition without avenue, desire without deed. You blame us clans for blocking your path, yet you block yourself. You turned to qi cultivation and alchemy, but your talent fell short. Now you're neither man nor ghost."
The Emperor laughed, hollow and sharp.
"You say Su Yan played me. But from the moment he knew you were on this mountain, he laid his trap. He taught the Guo girl sword control. He showed his cultivation methods. Every move baited your hook. And you bit, thinking you'd caught him."
"A country bumpkin? Scheming against me?"
"Snake catchers have careful hearts. It's how they survive." Zhou Qiyun turned toward the Phoenix Palace. "I'm going to collect your Nine Heavens Scripture. You can chase him into the underworld. But once I harmonize yin and yang, I'll complete the final step of Ascension. Then you'll fit in my palm."
The Emperor's fists shook.
Zhou Qiyun walked on, unconcerned. "Your qi is unstable. Attack now, and you'll lose faster. What's your choice?"
The Emperor's face flickered through rage, doubt, and desperation. Then he lunged.
Silence swallowed the mountaintop. A heartbeat later, invisible force erupted. Distant peaks shattered. Boulders hung in the sky, moving slowly, impossibly, like they had all the time in the world.
A second wave rolled along the ground, uprooting trees, turning the hillside into a churning torrent of wood and stone.
A third wave swept the clouds from the sky. The blue depths opened, endless and pure.
Only then did the sound arrive—dull thunder that struck hearts and souls alike. Golden Guards and Guo experts vomited where they stood.
A battered cloud of imperial fortune limped toward the great hall. The Emperor's robes hung loose. His face was gray.
"Chen!"
"Here, Your Majesty."
"We return to the capital. Now."
Inside the curtained palanquin, the Emperor coughed blood by the mouthful.
Atop Mount Jiuyi, Zhou Qiyun pushed open the Phoenix Palace doors. He found Su Yan's gift waiting on the table—complete, annotated in red ink at every crucial point.
"Wishing Lord Zhou health and successful tribulation," Su Yan had written on the final page.
Zhou Qiyun smiled. "That brat."
He read through the night.
* * *
"Seventh Lord, Lord Bell, Veyon wants to introduce me to his sister. She must be beautiful."
Yuan Qi slithered through the mountains, carrying Su Yan on his head. "Guo Xiaodie is pretty too, but she has a two-hundred-jin sister. Prepare for disappointment."
The great bell floated alongside. "Veyon is fifteen. Her sister's either your age or younger. A child. And the Yuan clan's dowry demands would bankrupt you."
Su Yan laughed, standing between the serpent's black-and-white horns. "Then I'll elope with her!"
"Veyon would kill you."
"Onward! To find my home!"
Days became weeks. They searched mountains and rivers Su Yan almost recognized. The New Territory had changed everything. Ancient beasts prowled the forests. At night, the underworld seeped through.
They found Qiyang County, untouched by the invasion. Su Yan ate three bowls of rice noodles, sweating, savoring every bite.
"East of here," he said. "I saw familiar mountains from the air."
They traveled east. The landscape grew stranger. Su Yan pointed at peaks and rivers, naming them from memory.
"Here!" He ran forward. "A village. A stream. Across it, Sujiaping!"
He jumped from Yuan Qi's head and hurried to the stream. On the far side lay only desolation. No burn marks. No ruins.
Old men sat beneath a tree. Su Yan approached them. "Excuse me, elders. Was there ever a village called Sujiaping across this stream?"
They shook their heads. "Never heard of it."
Su Yan swayed. "Then who am I?"
One old man squinted. "I have seen you. When I was a boy. You looked exactly the same."
He nearly fainted. "Ghosts! He's a ghost! I saw him sixty years ago, and he hasn't aged!"
Su Yan's mind shattered. Memories crashed over him—faces, voices, places that never were. He collapsed.