The mountaintop was reached in no time. The so-called Camellia Prison was beneath a camellia tree, so to find the entrance, one had to locate the tree first. However, before spotting any camellia tree, the two saw a large hole in the ground at the summit.
It wasn’t actually that large—just slightly bigger than a person’s body, shaped like a natural funnel. The opening at the mountaintop was wider, while the passage leading deeper into the mountain narrowed. If someone accidentally slipped in, they would undoubtedly slide straight down into the funnel’s throat and vanish into the mountain’s depths. As Yu Furen and Tang Lici approached the hole, they saw three blood-red characters—"Camellia Prison"—carved starkly into the moonlit side of the entrance. Between the characters, a white scratch ran straight down into the hole, its meaning unclear.
"Camellia Prison… So this is it," Yu Furen coughed a few times. "Cough… Without going down ourselves, there’s no way to know what’s below." Tang Lici’s gaze swept the surroundings. The area was eerily silent, devoid of any guards. The vegetation was lush but unnaturally uniform—each plant precisely two feet tall—yet there was no sign of any camellia. "What are you looking at?" Yu Furen took a deep breath, steadying the turbulent Inner Energy within him. The explosion earlier had left his internal energy in disarray. "Camellia," Tang Lici replied.
"Camellia?" Yu Furen frowned. Lin Shuangshuang and the others would arrive any moment. Instead of descending to rescue anyone, Tang Lici was staring at camellias? Tang Lici’s eyes settled on a patch of freshly turned soil near the hole. "There was a camellia tree here." Yu Furen coughed again. "Cough… So what? My father and the others will be here soon—" Tang Lici’s gaze shifted to a large rock nearby. "There… are marks left by a blade." Yu Furen turned to look. Indeed, several weapon scratches marred the surface of the rock. "Someone fought here." As he finished speaking, he suddenly felt warmth at his back—Tang Lici’s left hand pressed against his spine, channeling a surge of True Power into him. This time, it wasn’t to drag him into the Camellia Prison but to propel the flow of his Inner Energy. In an instant, twelve Major Acupoints were unblocked, and his stagnant blood and qi surged back into motion. As Tang Lici spoke, his voice was calm: "There are silver fragments on the rock. The scratches are half an inch deep—left by Chi Yun’s Moon Crossing Ring. The camellia tree was uprooted, and the grass was cleanly sliced. That’s not something the Moon Crossing Ring could achieve alone. Combined with this blade mark inside the hole…" He murmured, "What does that imply?" Yu Furen lowered his voice. "Someone… fought Chi Yun here. Chi Yun was overpowered and forced into the hole." The words weighed heavily on his heart. How formidable was "Heavenly Cloud"? Who could have driven him into the Camellia Prison? And under what circumstances would he have jumped in?
"It implies that when he fell, he hadn’t lost the ability to resist. He still used his blade against the wall to slow his descent," Tang Lici said slowly. "The precision with which such a vast stretch of grass was uniformly cut, and the uprooting of the camellia tree—these don’t seem like the work of a single person. I suspect it was the combined effort of several. Outside the Camellia Prison… it is, after all, the prison master’s domain." Yu Furen shuddered. Who could have gathered enough people outside the Camellia Prison to force Chi Yun inside? None other than the prison master himself."Ha, to make such guesses based on just a few traces—should I say Young Master Tang is brilliantly clever or utterly foolish?" Amidst the bright moon and wild grass, a gray figure emerged faintly. "Camellia Prison is a crucial stronghold of the world. Even if I forced Chi Yun to fall, would you dare defy the entire Martial Arts World by breaking its roof to release a notorious criminal, just to save Chi Yun alone?" The newcomer spoke lightly. "Of course, if you wish to uphold your loyalty as a friend, you could always jump down to join him. Camellia Prison will ensure Young Master Tang is well-fed with three meals a day."
"Oh?" Tang Lici unwound the red silk wrapped around him and tucked it into his robe. "From your tone, it seems you’re confident in your ability to kill?" Yu Furen studied the newcomer, whose face was concealed behind a snow-white mask, seemingly made of porcelain, yet devoid of any features—just a blank slate. "Who are you? There’s no such figure in the Central Plains Martial Arts World. Claiming to be the master of Camellia Prison is utterly laughable." The Porcelain-Masked Man strode forward with hands clasped behind his back. "Ha! A mere brat, so young yet daring to speak so boldly of the Central Plains' martial figures... pitiful and absurd." He pointed at Yu Furen. "You’re Yu Qifeng’s son. I won’t stoop to your level. If someone must die, let him do it himself. As for you—" He raised his other hand, his index finger now aimed at Tang Lici. "Young Master Tang, your cultivation and intellect make you a worthy opponent. Let’s see it—your Skill Exchange Great Art and Sound Assassination Technique!"
The night wind blew, stars hung low across the wilderness, and the bright moon shone overhead.
Tang Lici held his bronze flute and gently pushed Yu Furen behind him with a sweep of his arm. "Draw your sword."
The night breeze was cool, carrying the faint chill of early autumn.
While Tang Lici infiltrated Camellia Prison under the cover of night, Pu Zhu had packed his simple belongings, preparing to return to Shaolin Temple the next day. At the second watch, as usual, he sat in meditation, his spirit attuned to the Buddha. With his inner energy circulating, his hearing sharpened to an extraordinary degree, capable of detecting the faintest sounds within a hundred yards. The chirping of insects, the rustling of the wind, the creaking of window frames—the cyclical sounds of all things were both a sublime melody and the voice of the Buddha... or perhaps, depending on the practitioner’s understanding and actions, a demonic whisper.
Suddenly, from a place far, far away, a soft and gentle singing voice drifted over. Someone was singing, "How... who says I’ve changed so much lately? Honesty, in truth, is simple—it just hurts longer and longer. Me... a wooden puppet placed upon the city’s altar, so fake... it fulfills no prayers..." The voice was tender and melancholic, tinged with sorrow—it was unmistakably Xifang Tao’s voice.
It was the same song Tang Lici had sung that day. When Pu Zhu heard it that night, it had entered his ears but not his heart. Yet now, hearing it again, he recalled it instantly. He hadn’t expected Xifang Tao to memorize the entire song after hearing it just once. As he sat cross-legged in meditation, her haunting voice continued, "...I am not the Buddha on stage, saving all beings. I am not the demon in the underworld, ensnaring souls. I sit amidst splendor, yet find no rest. I calculate endlessly, yet never outwit fate... A thousand riddles in five fingers, heaven and earth spinning—how to go on?" The singer’s voice carried deep emotion, tinged with sorrow. Pu Zhu initially tried to ignore it, but the words pierced his ears, each syllable clear. Attempting to dismiss it as passing wind or drifting clouds proved impossible. After a long struggle, he finally abandoned his meditation and opened his eyes."Ah..." The song ended, followed by a faint sigh in the distance, then silence. Pu Zhu got out of bed and took a few steps, standing in the room, gazing at the bright moon. He couldn't decide whether to continue meditating or not—in short, he couldn't sleep.
A shadow passed by Pu Zhu's window. He focused his gaze and recognized Cheng Yunpao, whose usually indifferent brow seemed troubled as he made his way toward Shao Yanping's room.
What matter required Cheng Yunpao to seek a private discussion with Shao Yanping in the dead of night? Pu Zhu didn’t follow. His typically serene mind was suddenly flooded with chaotic thoughts. One doubt arose, then another—why had she sung that song? Was it special? What exactly had it been about? Why had she remembered it after hearing it just once? And why had he also remembered it so vividly? Why wasn’t she asleep? Why wasn’t Cheng Yunpao asleep? Why wasn’t Shao Yanping asleep? In his bewilderment, countless emotions surged through him all at once. Pressing a hand to his chest, cold sweat dripped from his forehead as his heart raced uncontrollably. After a moment, Pu Zhu silently recited a Buddhist chant, steadying his breath and calming his mind. It took nearly an hour before he finally regained his composure, exhaling slowly. What had come over him?
The hour approached midnight, the sky at its darkest. Shao Yanping sat with a bitter smile, sipping tea as he waited for Cheng Yunpao. He had already waited two hours, gone through five or six pots of tea, and made several trips to the chamber pot. If Cheng Yunpao didn’t arrive soon, he’d switch to wine.
Two knocks sounded at the door. "Come in," Shao Yanping exhaled. "Cheng Daxia, what urgent matter brings you here?" That afternoon, Cheng Yunpao had abruptly said to him, "Midnight. Something." Just those four words had kept him from sleep, forcing him to wait here in frustration. Yet whatever Cheng Yunpao had to say, he couldn’t ignore it—if it concerned him, it must be important.
Cheng Yunpao pushed the door open. Shao Yanping gave a dry chuckle. "I thought you’d jump in through the window."
"I’m not a thief," Cheng Yunpao replied flatly.
Shao Yanping laughed. "To Cheng Daxia, whether this room has a door or a window makes no difference. Why stand on ceremony? Knocking is too polite—have a seat."
Cheng Yunpao sat. "I’ll be leaving tomorrow as well."
Shao Yanping nodded. The major affairs at Good Cloud Mountain were settled, and none of them were permanent residents—naturally, they would all depart. "Aside from your departure, does Cheng Daxia have something difficult to say?" If not, why come at midnight?
Cheng Yunpao gave him a cool glance. "I’m returning to my sect to visit my junior brother."
Shao Yanping’s jaw dropped. This was worth discussing in the middle of the night? He forced another laugh. "Ah... I see. The Sword Association has delayed your journey for so long—my apologies."
Cheng Yunpao took a sip of tea, then suddenly said, "Today—"
"What?" Shao Yanping asked.After a pause, Cheng Yunpao said, "Today—I saw Tang Lici and Xifang Tao in the room..." He didn’t finish, but the implication was clear. Shao Yanping spat out his tea with a pfft , coughing. "What?" Cheng Yunpao continued coolly, "Being intimate."
Shao Yanping pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. "Well... though unexpected, it’s still Young Master Tang’s private affair. He’s dashing and elegant, and Peach Girl is as beautiful as a flower. Naturally..."
Cheng Yunpao cut in coldly, "If it were merely private, why would I bring it up? Xifang Tao’s origins are unclear. She claims to be the 'One Peach Three Colors' of the Seven Cloud Traveling Guests, yet 'One Peach Three Colors' was unmistakably a man—there are inconsistencies. If she could infiltrate the Dissolute Shop for years, why not the Sword Association? Tang Lici is young and romantic. If he’s seduced by this woman, how could that be good for the Central Plains Martial Arts World?"
Shao Yanping steadied his breath. "You want me to play the villain and break them apart? I doubt I can. Young Master Tang is no ordinary man. If he seeks romance, how could I ruin the mood?"
Cheng Yunpao replied icily, "I leave tomorrow. Xifang Tao has had close ties with Pu Zhu and now entangles herself with Tang Lici. She’s cunning—be careful."
Shao Yanping wiped his face again with the handkerchief. "Understood. This is truly a heavy responsibility... sigh..."
Cheng Yunpao stood and left without another word, vanishing the moment he stepped out the door—his movement so swift it was ghostly.
Shao Yanping smiled bitterly at the teapot. Tang Lici and Xifang Tao—things were getting more complicated and bizarre. Did this young master truly fall for Xifang Tao’s beauty, or was there another reason? If he really was involved with her, then what did A Shui mean to him? He had dispatched ten female Sword Association disciples to escort her back to Luoyang and even sent Dong Hubi personally to deliver a letter to the Prime Minister’s residence. Tang Lici’s overt and covert care for A Shui was meticulous—could it all just be a trivial romantic affair?
This young master schemed endlessly, manipulating the ever-shifting tides of the martial world, yet still had the energy to dally in romance. Truly admirable.
Slowly pouring himself another cup of tea, Shao Yanping toyed with the cup, watching the tea sway under the lamplight. Suddenly, he saw a pair of eyes reflected in the liquid—
He whirled around. A shadow flitted past the windowsill like a specter.
Shao Yanping rushed outside, but the corridor was empty. The wind blew under the bright moon, and nothing seemed amiss. Yet just now, there had been eyes peering through the window—and likely while Cheng Yunpao was speaking to him!
Who could lurk outside without either of them noticing? Who would spy on them in the dead of night? Who dared eavesdrop on their conversation? If that was a person, what kind of terrifying monster must they be?
Shao Yanping’s thoughts raced, cold sweat breaking out on his brow. Remembering Wan Yu Yuedan’s letter about the Dissolute Shop’s mastermind still being alive, he abruptly wiped the smile from his face and hurried toward Tang Lici’s quarters.With a few leaps, Shao Yanping burst into Tang Lici's room, only to find it eerily silent and empty—Tang Lici was unexpectedly absent! Moonlight poured in through the doorway, casting a frost-like glow on the floor. Suddenly, a dark shadow flickered. Shao Yanping turned abruptly to see a figure clad entirely in black, masked and hooded, dressed exactly like Liu Yan, standing silently at the entrance. No sound, only an icy, bone-chilling murderous intent seeped through the air, carried by the wind straight toward Shao Yanping.
Damn it! Shao Yanping's heart sank as he took a step back. He wasn't armed with a sword. Pu Zhu and Cheng Yunpao had already shown signs of leaving, Tang Lici was nowhere to be found, and the person before him clearly possessed extraordinary skill. Their sudden appearance undoubtedly signaled lethal intent.
What should he do?
"Draw your sword," Tang Lici said gently, holding his flute horizontally to shield Yu Furen behind him.
The night wind rustled, carrying a slight chill. The sky was exceptionally dark, the stars and moon unusually bright. Though Yu Furen wished to help, he knew the gap between his skills and Tang Lici's was vast, so he could only stand aside quietly, watching his back.
"First move." The Porcelain-Masked Man wore a sword at his waist but did not draw it. Instead, he clasped his palms together, crossing them before his chest, fingers neither grasping nor seizing, forming an empty grip. With a flick of his wrists, he pushed forward lightly. "The Sovereign Rules All Under Heaven." Even from ten paces away, Yu Furen felt an overwhelming force rush toward him, as if the mountain's west wind had suddenly shifted to the east. Before the move was even halfway executed, the sheer pressure alone was suffocating. Tang Lici stepped forward calmly, meeting the formidable palms head-on with his own. As his single palm pushed out, faint crackling sounds filled the air, and grass blades on the ground snapped, scattering debris. The Porcelain-Masked Man flipped his palms, and in an instant, three palms clashed! Yu Furen's expression changed abruptly. With a dull "thud," the three palms met—not locked in a prolonged stalemate as he had imagined, but both sides retreated a step, evenly matched!
"Impressive skill!" the Porcelain-Masked Man praised. "The Skill Exchange Great Art is truly a world-shaking technique, and the Rebirth Scroll is indeed a peerless marvel. Let me take a guess—was it Bai Nanzhu who taught you these arts?"
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