The roar of the Naihe grew until the very mountain seemed about to shatter. The waters had swallowed the foothills and were climbing steadily toward the temple, erasing everything in their path. Xu Ying and Yuan Qi huddled beside the cursed green fire, fighting the bone-penetrating cold that even their surging blood and qi could barely combat. The flames spat silent, screaming faces—lost souls caught in some eternal torment.
Meanwhile, at the mountain's base, a yellow-robed figure led five strange attendants in a desperate sprint uphill. Mountain God Huang Siping of Stone Mountain, a wolf demon who had earned his divine title through martial cultivation to the seventh level, had been searching the mountain for Xu Ying when he heard Yuan Qi's breakthrough—the elephant cry that had echoed across the peaks. He had been returning to his shrine when the Naihe arrived without warning, cutting off every escape route. His five attendants, lesser demons of fox, badger, and wildcat, were not so fortunate. One by one, the rising waters claimed them, stripping flesh from bone in seconds and leaving only skeletons to be swept away.
Not far away, Huang Siping spotted several Grass-Head Spirits from neighboring villages—deified human souls dwelling in clay and wood—also fleeing the flood. They fared worse than his demon attendants. One after another, the water swallowed them, shattering their sacred vessels and dragging their souls into oblivion. Huang Siping, running on pure survival instinct, was the only one of his party to reach the temple. But he was not alone. From the other side, a man in the black-and-red uniform of a Nuo official scrambled onto the temple grounds.
The two recognized each other instantly. Wei Chu, chief warden of Lingling County, had been among the Nuo shamans pursuing Xu Ying. He had heard the same elephant cry and rushed to investigate, only to watch the Naihe swallow both of his fellow officers alive.
"Mountain God Huang," Wei Chu greeted, his thin smile failing to reach his eyes. "How fortunate to find you here."
"Warden Wei." Huang Siping's yellow fur bristled. A massive hundred-refined steel blade, over ten feet long, hung across his back. He pulled it free for reassurance. They were enemies by affiliation—the City God and Magistrate Zhou had been locked in a cold war over Lingling for years, each issuing kill orders against the other's forces. Wei Chu feared no Grass-Head Spirit, but Huang Siping was a true Demon King, a physical god with combat power that rivaled his own.
Huang Siping spoke first. "The Naihe threatens to destroy us both. If we fight, we both die. If we cooperate, we might survive. What say you?"
Wei Chu glanced behind him at the still-rising waters. The temple was the only high ground remaining. A battle would be fatal for both sides. He nodded. "In the face of calamity, old grievances must be set aside. Agreed."
They entered the temple proper and found a boy and a great serpent warming themselves at a fire of writhing green ghosts. Wei Chu squared his shoulders and assumed his most imposing official manner. "Criminal Xu Ying. Do you recognize this official?"
Xu Ying clutched the silver coins hidden in his sleeve. "Lord Wei, I have no money to give you." He had seen how officials extorted bribes—the common folk would present coins with both hands and obsequious smiles, while the officials affected lofty disinterest even as their fingers closed around the silver. Xu Ying had never had money before. Now he possessed a few small ingots, which he planned to use as a bride price once he escaped to another province. He was not about to hand them over.
"You stubborn peasant!" Wei Chu sneered. "What's that hidden in your sleeve? This official has cultivated Fiery Golden Eyes—I can see your silver from here. But I cannot accept it. Your crimes are too grave to be bought off. The magistrate has ordered your death."
Xu Ying exhaled in relief and smiled genuinely. "If Lord Wei wants my life and not my money, that's acceptable. If he wants my life, I can simply kill him. But if he wanted my money—well, I truly don't wish to part with it."
Wei Chu snorted and turned to the mountain god. "And you, Mountain God Huang? Do you want his life or his money?"
"Both." Huang Siping's voice was flat. "The City God ordered his death. Since I serve the City God, I cannot accept payment. But I will take the money from his corpse afterward—I won't work for free."
Wei Chu slipped a hand into his sleeve. "Xu Ying killed Master Jiang—a mortal crime."
Huang Siping's grip tightened on his blade. "He killed a deity of the Yin Court. That is a divine offense."
They stared at each other. Then Wei Chu withdrew his empty hand and smiled. "The Naihe is upon us. Together we live; apart we die. Let us postpone our dispute until the flood passes."
Huang Siping nodded. The two sat down at the fire opposite each other, their faces washed in ghastly green light.
Wei Chu studied Xu Ying with professional curiosity. "As a snake catcher, you have some talent. Why turn to banditry?"
Xu Ying watched the burning ghosts writhe in the flames. "The gods gave us no path to survive. The officials gave us none either. So I killed a god to make my own path."
Huang Siping managed a faint, wolfish grin. "Xu the Benevolent, you have a natural talent for getting yourself executed."
"He has a demon's nature," Wei Chu observed. "Untamable. Even if he hadn't committed a crime today, it would have happened eventually. Unlike Mountain God Huang here, who has been properly domesticated."
Huang Siping's tone was dry. "Warden Wei, you serve as the Zhou family's dog. I serve as the Yin Court's dog. We are birds of a feather. Why disparage each other?"
Wei Chu's smile did not waver.
Xu Ying rose and walked to the temple entrance. The water was still rising, lapping at the threshold. The entire mountain would soon be submerged, and there was nowhere higher to retreat. He turned back. "My lords, can either of you explain what causes the Naihe to change course?"
Huang Siping and Wei Chu sat beside the haunted fire, their faces glowing green. Wei Chu's smile turned sinister. "The ancient texts say that the Naihe is the river that bears the souls of the dead through the underworld. It follows fixed laws and rarely shifts its path. Only one thing can cause it to change course."
"And what is that?" Xu Ying asked.
"Mass death in the mortal world," Wei Chu said, his eyes gleaming in the firelight.
Xu Ying frowned. "How does mass death redirect a river of the underworld?"
The question hung in the air. Huang Siping answered instead. "The Naihe's tributaries reach every corner of the mortal realm, each designed to handle the normal flow of souls—the daily tally of the dead. But when the number of dead far exceeds the norm, the tributaries cannot cope. The main river responds by changing its course. It flows directly to where the dying is happening."
He paused. "That means the direction the Naihe is heading—west—is where countless people are dying right now."
Xu Ying gazed toward the river's destination, visible through the temple's ruined walls. Dark shapes moved in the waters. Ghost-lights flickered and died. Then Yuan Qi spoke up from beside the fire. "The invasion of the mortal world by the underworld is not a new phenomenon. The Naihe changed course eight hundred years ago as well—another instance of the underworld breaching our realm. And again during the fourteenth year of Tianbao."
Both Wei Chu and Huang Siping turned to stare at the snake. The fourteenth year of Tianbao made sense—the Prince of Dongping's rebellion had killed millions, enough to redirect any river of souls. But eight hundred years ago? Even Huang Siping, old as he was, knew nothing of that.
"I read a great deal," Yuan Qi said, puffing slightly with pride. "Our family has collected books for three hundred years. We are a scholarly lineage, with a deep tradition of—"
"Reading is worthless," Wei Chu cut him off. "Can it get you an official position?"
Yuan Qi fell silent, wounded.
The water rose past the temple entrance, forcing Xu Ying and the others onto the rooftops. The Naihe would soon swallow the entire structure, and its corrosive waters would strip their flesh from their bones. Wei Chu's eyes flickered among his three companions, calculating. *The Naihe dissolves flesh but leaves bone intact. If the water climbs higher, I can kill the others and use their skeletons as stepping stones.* He caught Huang Siping watching him with the same cold calculation and felt a chill. *The mountain god is thinking the same thing.*
The flood crept toward the rear courtyard, approaching the pavilion, the bell, the well. Wei Chu's muscles tensed. He was about to strike when light exploded from the ruined temple with blinding brilliance. A beam of radiance shot into the sky and detonated. The sound that followed was not thunder but a bell's toll—deep, resonant, world-shaking. The light expanded into a massive dome, a bell-shaped barrier of pure radiance that slammed down around the temple and hurled the Naihe's waters backward.
On the rooftop, Xu Ying and the others gaped. The temple was encased in a glowing bell of light, its surface alive with shifting patterns—ancient script that rearranged itself into ever-changing glyphs. Beyond the barrier, the Naihe raged, hurling wave after wave of demonic spirits against the light. Each impact disintegrated the attackers into wisps of smoke. The air grew warm again.
"It's the bronze bell in the rear courtyard," Xu Ying breathed. They dropped from the roof and hurried toward the pavilion. The ancient bell, green with verdigris, now blazed with light pouring from beneath its corroded surface. Wei Chu stared in disbelief. "A treasure of this power—why would anyone leave it hanging in a ruin?"
The mountain convulsed beneath their feet. Xu Ying, Huang Siping, and Wei Chu each grabbed a pavilion pillar to keep from being thrown to the ground. The bronze bell's radiance intensified, blazing downward into the well shaft. For the first time, light reached the bottom—and Xu Ying saw what lay below. Massive black iron scales slid across stone, the body of some colossal creature. The scales stilled, then parted.
A single eye, blue and vertically pupiled, filled the entire base of the well. It stared up at him. In an instant, a thousand whispering voices flooded Xu Ying's mind, drowning every thought he possessed.