The sun gradually set, casting a bluish-gray mist over the mountains.
Chang Ning lay on a yellow pearwood bed draped with delicate gauze curtains, his jet-black thick hair spread across half the bedding like luxurious, heavy silk. His eyes were open as he quietly observed the embroidered patterns on the canopy—elegant indigo bamboo branches beside clusters of madder-red flowers, with a distant ginger-colored toad hopping about.
The curtains were cut by Feicui, the embroidery stitched by Furong, and the floral designs drawn by Cai Zhao.
A faint smile curved Chang Ning's lips—he knew the young girl secretly cursed him, but he pretended not to notice.
He draped on his robe and rose, freshening up slightly. The face in the mirror was covered in festering sores, its features indistinct.
He couldn’t help but chuckle.
The girl had complained countless times about his disfigured face, yet she still slipped back to stay by his side. Over these days, she had cared for him with unwavering devotion.
When others tried to bully him, she shielded him; when he sought to provoke others, she held him back. Every time he saw her flustered and exasperated, he found it inexplicably amusing.
She was soft-hearted beneath her sharp tongue. Even if she later discovered his secrets, she wouldn’t stay angry for long.
Since she treated him so well, he would do the same in return.
Sitting at the table, he spread out paper and took up a brush. Closing his eyes, he searched his memories until he found a fragmented leaf on an inconspicuous shrub—
"...In the second month of the Guiyou year, the Nie Clan’s sect leader heard that Elder Yaoguang, Zuo Qianqiu, had been plotted against by the Azure Tower Sect’s traitor Yin and the Cang Huanzi of the First Watch. Grieved, he ordered his subordinates to rescue Elder Kaiyang. Alas, the attempt failed, costing the life of a valiant warrior, and Elder Kaiyang perished as well. The North Star’s traitors were heavily guarded—let this serve as a warning to future generations."
Below was a rough sketch: a sharp shadow stretching across rocky ground under the setting sun.
A small note read: Start here. Head east for three li, turn sideways for four li, repeat twice. Upon encountering a shallow stream, cross northward—it won’t be far then.
Chang Ning meticulously recreated the sketch from memory, examined it twice, then folded it and tucked it into his robe.
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
The cool evening breeze brushed his face, invigorating his spirits.
Cai Zhao’s door remained tightly shut—she must still be fast asleep.
Before leaving, Chang Ning glanced toward her room, only to find Feicui standing guard like an icy sentinel, her hand resting on her sword.
Furong offered an apologetic smile. "The young mistress hasn’t woken yet, so... um, perhaps you should wait..."
Chang Ning wasn’t angered. The two maids’ loyalty was a blessing for Cai Zhao.
"Just open the window a crack so I can see her," he said gently.
This was permissible, so Furong quietly parted the window halfway.
Behind the gauze curtains, the girl slept soundly, her breathing even, cheeks flushed like a porcelain doll.
Chang Ning gazed at her for a while, an unconscious smile forming.
"I’ll return soon. Keep Zhao Zhao safe," he said.
Then, with a sweep of his sleeves, he vanished like the wind into the bluish-gray dusk.
The wind was cold, the dew damp, but the thought of the peacefully sleeping girl warmed his heart.
Since Cai Pingchun’s sudden disappearance two nights prior, the girl hadn’t rested properly. Last night, after returning to Quietude Cottage, they had retired to their rooms. He had woken at midnight to see a dim light in her chamber, the slender girl pacing anxiously inside.
Pitiful child—burdened with an unreliable master who had fallen so easily into a trap, leaving her alone and vulnerable.
At dawn today, Cai Zhao had rushed off to find Fan Xingjia.Fan Xingjia was indeed bewildered, only remembering that he had been speaking properly with Manager Chen the day before when he suddenly blacked out. Upon waking, he found himself in a narrow alley of the town, his senior brother Zhuang Shu nearly deafening him with his shouts.
Fan Xingjia rubbed his head, wincing slightly.
He was certain he must have been transported down the mountain inside a crate—otherwise, he wouldn’t have several swollen bumps on his head from being knocked around.
He had intended to confront Manager Chen for answers, but Zhuang Shu had discovered Manager Chen’s corpse in a ravine early that morning. It was said he had fallen and cracked his head after drinking—yet Manager Chen was not one to overindulge.
A tense and uneasy atmosphere enveloped the Azure Tower Sect. Under Qi Yunke’s orders, dozens of grim-faced unfamiliar experts had entered Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff. The disciples sensed an inexplicable danger looming.
Lei Xiuming and Li Xun felt something was amiss and sought to speak with Qi Yunke, only to be blocked outside the infirmary. Gazing at Qi Yunke’s heavily guarded main courtyard, now swarming with strangers, and then at the equally impenetrable Hanging Sky Dock defended by Vast Heaven Gate guards, they both felt a chill of dread. They had no choice but to return and instruct their subordinates to keep their doors tightly shut.
Nine Conch Mountain was no longer filled with its usual laughter and cheer.
Cai Zhao intercepted Fan Xingjia, who was on his way to the medicine hut for remedies, and asked if the Azure Tower Sect had any prison cells.
Fan Xingjia confirmed that they did—of course they did. How could the Azure Tower Sect, which ruled by law, lack prisons? Dry cells, water dungeons, ordinary cells—they had them all. Not only did he tell Cai Zhao where the prisons were, but he even personally took her to see them.
The dry cells were the busiest. Two thieves, seven or eight market thugs who bullied vendors, and a despicable man worse than livestock—who had sold his infant son while drunk and assaulted his sister-in-law when she came to visit her sister.
Li Shibo’s suggestion was to castrate him and send him off to hard labor—simple and efficient.
Lei Shibo’s idea was to use him as a test subject for medicines—no point wasting him.
The two were still negotiating.
The water dungeon was set in a cave beneath a mountain stream—damp, frigid, dark, and terrifying. Even the toughest men would be broken after half a year here. It was said that in the past, prisoners of the Demonic Cult had suffered here, unable to live or die.
After Qi Yunke took over, the Martial World had been peaceful, and the water dungeon had fallen into disuse.
The ordinary cells held five or six sect disciples who had violated sect rules—likely for drunken brawls or extorting fellow disciples. The same old story every year—nothing surprising.
—The enthusiastic Young Hero Fan explained all this without pause, his headache forgotten.
Cai Zhao knew full well that Young Master Qian couldn’t possibly be openly held in a prison cell—unless he’d lost his mind—but she couldn’t suppress her disappointment. After some thought, she concluded that the most likely place was Dusk Micro Palace. Just as she was about to recklessly investigate, Chang Ning stopped her.
“Dusk Micro Palace has three front halls, three rear halls, plus annexes and guest rooms. The handful of people the impostor brought couldn’t possibly guard it all,” Chang Ning said. “Unless they’re keeping him in the main courtyard where the sect leader resides.”
He smirked mockingly. “Keeping him with the Thousand Faces Sect would be too risky. That Qian fellow must be held elsewhere.”
Dark circles shadowed Cai Zhao’s eyes as she gritted her teeth. “He’s definitely somewhere in the sect. I’ll turn every stone to find him!”
“You don’t turn stones in broad daylight,” Chang Ning said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Go rest first. When night falls, I’ll help you search every courtyard.”
Cai Zhao agreed—she was exhausted—and obediently returned to her room to rest.
When she awoke, it was completely dark outside.
The door creaked open, and a tall, slender figure in wide sleeves entered with a lantern. In the dim yellow light, his silhouette resembled an elegant peak from an aged painting.Cai Zhao sat on the bedside watching him for a while. "...Two of the toxic sores on your face have faded."
"Is that so? They must be healing soon." Chang Ning placed the lamp on the table, indifferent.
Cai Zhao lowered her head to rub her eyes.
He must have been exceptionally handsome once—tall, heroic, and striking. A pity she might never see it.
Chang Ning sat by the bed, gazing at the girl's fluffy crown and the soft cheeks marked with creases. Tenderness welled in his chest.
"Get up and wash. We'll set off after you eat." He knew what weighed most on her mind.
Cai Zhao immediately looked up, grabbing his sleeve. "Do you know where to search?"
Chang Ning replied lightly, "I scouted earlier. It should be there."
Just as Cai Zhao brightened, she felt dampness in her palm. Spreading her hand, she realized it was Chang Ning's sleeve that was wet. Understanding dawned, and guilt pricked her. "...Was the dew outside heavy?"
Chang Ning's smile deepened. "The mountain air is unusually damp tonight, and bitterly cold. Bundle up later."
Cai Zhao turned her face away, murmuring a soft assent after a pause.
...
The world was pitch black.
Stars and moon hid behind piled storm clouds. Howling winds lashed trees and grass into disarray, making it hard to stand. The looming Sky Piercing Peak overhead seemed ready to devour them whole.
"That's the place." Chang Ning pointed to an utterly ordinary courtyard ahead.
The Azure Tower Sect sprawled across vast grounds, with dozens of scattered compounds. Chang Ning indicated a storage shed—remote, near the back mountains, shielded by dense woods, rarely visited.
Yet Cai Zhao already glimpsed shadowy figures half-hidden in the waist-high grass ahead. A dozen silhouettes moved slowly in the starless night, silently guarding the shed like specters.
But such darkness also favored the pair.
They crept forward soundlessly, evading patrolling black-clad figures when possible, incapacitating and gently lowering the unavoidable into the grass before slipping inside through a side window.
The shed had two sections, flanked by at least seven or eight rooms crammed with sundries. Chang Ning led Cai Zhao through the dark to the second-last room.
"This should be it," he whispered.
Cai Zhao unwrapped a Night-Shining Pearl swathed in gauze, its faint glow revealing the room—
They'd entered from the south. The eastern wall stacked chairs and tables under cobwebs; the western wall stood bare; the northern wall held several massive chests.
After careful inspection, Cai Zhao went straight to the northern wall, pointing at the largest chest. "There's a mechanism here."
Chang Ning: "How do you know?"
Cai Zhao sighed. "Mechanisms and formations were actually my grandfather's true expertise. But his parents called such arts heresy, so he secretly practiced them in the Martial World."—Until meeting her grandmother, who turned his heart toward Buddhism.
Chang Ning chuckled softly.
Cai Zhao handed him the pearl and felt along the chests. Suddenly: "Here."
Squinting, Chang Ning saw one chest was firmly nailed to the floor.
He moved to shift it, but Cai Zhao stopped him.
Her eyes fixed on the enormous black iron latch. While surrounding items were dust-covered, this latch, though dull in hue, felt smooth to the touch.
"Someone touches it often," Chang Ning murmured.Cai Zhao removed one of her earrings, straightened the thin silver hook, and carefully probed the grooves and patterns of the lock. After a moment, a smile appeared on her face. "Got it."
In the darkness, a soft click sounded as Cai Zhao pressed down on one of the lock's grooves. The entire lock slowly turned open, revealing a pull-handle behind it.
Cai Zhao and Chang Ning exchanged glances. Both wanted to pull the handle, but they worried the noise might alert the black-clad figures outside.
Just then, a deafening roar erupted from outside. The two froze momentarily before realizing with joy—it was going to rain tonight after all!
Chang Ning firmly gripped the pull-handle. Sure enough, another thunderous boom soon followed. Seizing the moment, Chang Ning yanked the handle with lightning speed—a series of creaking sounds echoed as another chest slowly slid aside, exposing a hole in the ground. Beneath it lay a deep staircase, clearly leading underground.
Chang Ning couldn't help but chuckle softly. "Fan Xingjia was right. The Azure Tower Sect really does have every kind of prison cell imaginable. Even an underground dungeon."
Cai Zhao gave him a light tap and then jumped into the hole.
Chang Ning followed.
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