Moonlight Mystique

Chapter Twenty-Four

On the vast blue sea, a small boat drifted. Bai Shuo lay asleep within it, surrounded by tiny turtles and frogs pushing the vessel steadily southward.

Curled in a corner of the boat, Bai Shuo frowned slightly in her sleep, as if haunted by nightmares.

"You've acted so convincingly, even I nearly believed it. Such a cunning mortal—I've never seen your like before."

A youthful figure stood amidst a sky full of flaming arrows, his sharp brows furrowed. Before Bai Shuo could speak, his hand closed around her throat.

"Dare to play word games with me? Speak! Who are you? Immortal or demon?!"

The dream shifted. The youth's eyes turned icy, laced with faint mockery. In that moment, Bai Shuo felt not just terror, but an inexplicable sense of familiarity she couldn't place.

In the boat, Bai Shuo clutched her throat, drenched in sweat, trapped in the nightmare's grip.

Outside the imperial mausoleum, the youth had grown into a taller, more imposing young man—aloof and bewitching. He leaned down, his mocking eyes filled with detached indifference.

"I owe no debts, least of all to mortals. Since I saved his life, consider your aid to me at Mu Xiao Mountain repaid. We're even."

"If we're even, then there's no need for you to remember anything else."

His slender hand reached toward her, imprinting itself on Bai Shuo's trembling pupils...

"No!" Bai Shuo jolted awake with a scream. She looked around frantically, relieved to find herself still adrift at sea.

That bastard again... She wiped cold sweat from her brow, gritting her teeth.

"Jerk! Stinking demon! Daring to knock me out three times! If I ever see you again, I'll beat you senseless every single time!" She punched the air angrily before slumping against the boat's side.

"Never mind. A-Zhao mustn't know I still remember. If we meet, I'll have to pretend not to know him."

Thinking of Chong Zhao, Bai Shuo sighed. Strangely, though that demon had used his Demonic Technique on both her and A-Zhao, A-Zhao had forgotten everything after leaving the capital. Yet she remembered every detail—even the taste of the wild fruits the damned demon had picked to placate her lingered vividly on her tongue.

But she couldn't speak of it, especially not to A-Zhao.

Resting her hands behind her head, Bai Shuo gazed at the stars. After three years on Misty Isle, even someone as ignorant as her understood what the Moonlight Palace and Cold Spring Pavilion represented—the most formidable powers in the Yao Realm. Against them, not just A-Zhao, but the entire Misty Isle would be like eggs thrown at stone.

Not that she had much to fear anyway. With her mediocre Aptitude, merely staying on Misty Isle long enough to cultivate into an Earth Immortal would be the greatest stroke of luck her Bai ancestors could bestow...

Thud!

"Oof!"

Lost in thought, Bai Shuo was suddenly thrown against the boat as it collided violently with something, sending her sprawling face-first.

"What the—!" Cursing, she scrambled up, then beamed. "We're here!"

Well, not quite. The boat had hit a protruding reef, still a hundred meters from shore. It now circled the rock stubbornly, refusing to advance further.

Bai Shuo peered overboard and shouted, "Go on! We're not there yet!"

But no matter how she yelled, the little frogs and turtles beneath refused to surface, offering no response.These guys usually adore her so much, why are they slacking off today? Bai Shuo scratched her head and glanced at the shore—it wasn’t too far. Floating over on a cloud would do.

She scrambled up, puffed her cheeks, and blew out a big breath. A medium-sized immortal cloud appeared midair. Bai Shuo leaped onto it and clung tightly.

"Quick! Fly, fly to the island!" Bai Shuo gestured toward the shore and shouted.

The cloud seemed to understand, wobbling in the direction she pointed. Just as they neared the island, the cloud grew fainter, as if it might dissolve any second.

"Yikes!" Bai Shuo jumped and landed on solid ground. She patted her chest in relief. "Finally made it."

Tightening the medicine pouch at her waist, she glanced back. Strangely, the vast blue sea had darkened abruptly, and the island was eerily silent.

"Why so quiet?" A shiver ran down her spine. Just then, a few crows cawed overhead, flying past the island. Bai Shuo’s face darkened. "Well, it’s a deserted island. What else would you expect?"

Muttering to herself, she turned and headed deeper into the island.

The East Sea was rich in Spiritual Qi, and most islands were lush and fertile. Yet this one was barren—nothing but yellow earth and rocks, devoid of any greenery. If there was anything special about it, it was that this was the very island where she and Chong Zhao had found Sect Leader Songhe three years ago.

Though Misty Isle was no longer as powerful as before, Songhe had been an Upper Realm cultivator for five hundred years. Yet three years ago, he was found gravely injured and unconscious here. After returning to Misty Isle, he refused to speak of who had wounded him—an oddity in itself.

Bai Shuo pulled out the book she’d swiped from the library and flipped to the last page.

South of Misty Isle, heavenly fire descended suddenly, burning an island to ashes. All life was destroyed, save for a single spring in the southeast. Over a decade has passed since.

This passage wasn’t part of the original text—it had been handwritten. Over the past three years, Bai Shuo had secretly combed through all the library’s notes and recognized the handwriting as Songhe’s. If the island had been scorched bare, why had Songhe appeared here three years ago? And what was the significance of that lone spring he singled out?

The old tortoise was Misty Isle’s Alchemist. Though a Spirit Beast and never allowed into the inner halls, it continuously supplied Inner Sect Disciples with Spirit Pills for Foundation Establishment, earning the respect of successive Sect Leaders. It was quite the tyrant on Misty Isle—if there were any first-grade heavenly treasures on the island, it would’ve surely snatched them for Alchemy by now. Yet, it had only ever produced second-grade Medicinal Pills. Still, when Bai Shuo questioned it, she sensed the old tortoise likely knew where to find first-grade treasures.

Years ago, Sect Leader Songhe had divined that his third Heavenly Tribulation was imminent. Success would elevate him to the final tier of the Upper Realm, while failure would reduce him to ashes. But he had long hit a cultivation bottleneck. The only thing that could help him survive the Tribulation was a first-grade Immortal Pill. Three years ago, with his Tribulation approaching, he still left seclusion to come to this island—perhaps because what he sought was here.Bai Shuo stuffed the book into her medicine pouch, trudging step by step across the scorching yellow earth, her face drenched in sweat. Though the mountain fire had been extinguished for years, the entire island inexplicably retained residual heat, as if flames still smoldered beneath the surface.

Following the spring location described in the book, Bai Shuo headed southeast into the depths of the rocky terrain. Suddenly, she halted mid-step, stunned by the sight before her. In a rocky clearing ten paces ahead stood a dense grove of trees that hadn’t existed three years prior. Hidden deep within the island, this forest was invisible unless one ventured inside.

How could trees thrive on an island with such extreme heat? Could it be because of the spring? Heart racing, Bai Shuo dashed toward the grove. The moment she stepped into the woods, a faint celestial glow flickered around the trees.

In a hall behind Misty Isle’s main palace, Song Feng’s eyes snapped open.

“How did someone breach that place?”

Frowning, he transformed into a streak of light, streaking toward Bai Shuo’s island.

On the desolate island, Bai Shuo wandered aimlessly through the vast forest, finding no trace of the spring. A rustling sound suddenly erupted behind her. She whirled around—only to find empty air and branches swaying in the wind.

The deeper she ventured, the scorching heat faded, replaced by an eerie chill. Bai Shuo swallowed hard, rubbing her hands together as unease prickled her skin. This island bore no resemblance to the one from three years ago—it was unnerving.

Footsteps abruptly sounded behind her. A hand clamped onto her shoulder, and she froze, eyes wide with terror.

Meanwhile, Song Feng landed on the shore like a shooting star. His face paled as he took in the island’s ominous aura.

“Such potent demonic Qi!”

While Bai Shuo remained oblivious, his spiritual senses revealed the island shrouded in a thick, oppressive black mist—neither celestial nor demonic, but reeking of bloodlust. Had his cultivation been deeper, he’d have recognized this Qi as teetering on the brink of demonic possession.

“How did this happen?” Muttering, Song Feng swiftly formed a hand seal, conjuring a glowing compass in his palm. The needle pointed unwaveringly southeast. Without hesitation, he soared into the air.

The next instant, he materialized at the forest’s edge. Before he could enter, a shadowy figure flashed past, striking his shoulder with a palm strike. Blood sprayed from Song Feng’s mouth as he hurtled backward like a severed kite. The assailant didn’t relent—a black sword materialized in its grip, thrusting toward Song Feng’s throat. Moonlight revealed half of the shadow’s face. Eyes widening, Song Feng hurled a talismanic incantation from his sleeve. Celestial power detonated, blasting the figure back several steps as Song Feng vanished within the formation’s explosion.

The shadow glared at the empty space where Song Feng had stood, snorted coldly, and disappeared.

A beam of light flashed in the Stellar Hall, where Song Feng collapsed onto a meditation cushion, blood trickling from his lips, face deathly white. His fingers flew through another hand seal as he flung the spell outward.

“To the Stellar Hall—now!”

The spell split into a dozen sparks, scattering across Misty Isle.

Chong Zhao, secluded in the back mountains, and the island’s disciples all received the summons. Their expressions darkened as they transformed into streaks of light, converging upon the hall.Chong Zhao pushed open the hall doors first, only to find Song Feng unconscious on the meditation mat. Er Yun and a dozen other disciples rushed in behind him.

"Junior Martial Uncle!"

"Second Uncle!"

"Master!"

Everyone hurriedly helped Song Feng up as Chong Zhao swiftly channeled spiritual energy into him. Moments later, Song Feng slowly opened his eyes, while Er Yun's eyes were red with anxiety.

"Second Uncle, what happened? How did you get so badly injured?"

Song Feng had no time to answer Er Yun, gripping Chong Zhao's hand tightly instead.

"Quick, Zhao'er! You and Yun'er, along with all your martial brothers—hurry, activate the Heaven-Shaking Formation!"

"The Heaven-Shaking Formation?" The group paled further.

"Second Uncle, what's going on? That's our Misty Island's ultimate protective array! Once activated, it signals to the Three Realms that our sect faces annihilation!" Er Yun exclaimed in shock.

"Go! Activate the Heaven-Shaking Formation and report to the Heavenly Court—tell them... tell them an evil force has emerged in the East Sea, one that will bring chaos to the Three Realms!"

Song Feng's voice was strained, his usual composure completely gone.

"Second Un—"

"Yes, Sect Leader!" Before Er Yun could question further, Chong Zhao decisively stood up. "Senior Sister, fellow disciples, follow me to activate the Heaven-Shaking Formation!"

Seeing Chong Zhao take charge, Er Yun held back his words and hurried after him out of the hall.

Meanwhile, in the woods of the deserted island, Bai Shuo trembled as she turned around. Peeking through slightly parted fingers at the approaching figure, she blurted out,

"What are you doing here?"