The Mahjong Colors

Li Huowang craned his neck, staring up at the giant eye in the sky with overwhelming shock.

As the trigram patterns in the air shifted and floated, the enormous vertical pupil looked left, then right, following the dark clouds as they pressed lower.

There was no emotion in that eye. The only thing Li Huowang could feel from it was a suffocating chaos.

Chaos should not have been something visible to the eye, but at this moment, Li Huowang was absolutely certain—what he was seeing was one of chaos's own eyes.

A strange, droning chant poured out from that eyeball, and Li Huowang covered his ears in agony.

He remembered this chanting! He had heard it over a hundred li outside the capital. Now he understood—this was the source!

Compared to the faint version he had heard before, this was far, far louder. The corpses of men who had covered their ears and dropped dead around Li Huowang were proof of that.

"What is that eye?! Is it a Siming? No! If it were a Siming, I would have seen it in the White Jade Capital! What the hell is it?!"

"Did the Emperor of Liang bring it here? Is this the whole point of the formation? What does that bastard even want with this thing?!"

"No, no, none of this is my business. I came here to find the Heart-Element North Wind!"

Li Huowang pressed his head in pain as he looked toward the ground ahead. There, standing upright, was a massive, towering golden tree.

The main trunk of the golden tree was not thick. It looked tall and slender, like a pillar piercing the heavens.

From Li Huowang's perspective, tiny figures were battling around the base of this giant tree.

After watching for a short while, Li Huowang stopped with a headache. The sound was simply too loud. It made it impossible for any emotion inside him to settle for even a moment.

"I can't do this! If this keeps up, I won't even be able to get close!"

Li Huowang quickly pulled a sharp awl from the hem of his robe, jammed it deep into his left ear, and twisted it through the pain.

Then he tore some cloth from his clothes and stuffed it into his right ear.

It was crude, but Li Huowang's improvised method worked. The sound in his ears weakened considerably.

It was still loud, but at least the emotions inside him could stabilize now, no longer easily scattered by that noise.

Gritting his teeth, Li Huowang took shaky steps toward the massive trunk.

As he drew closer, the distant scene gradually came into focus. Around the giant trunk, instead of leaves, hung countless six-clawed golden dragons.

These golden dragons were not alive, yet they seemed to be in excruciating agony. Their scales were flipped outward, and from within sprouted twisted horns and jagged spikes. Various inverted * characters were thrust abruptly into their bodies.

The golden dragons writhed and twisted together, filling the crown of the tree with sharp branches. And across all their faces were plastered the same giant faces from the palace walls—every dragon wore a human face, grotesque and bizarre.

Beneath the canopy of dragon-crowned branches, a solemn heavenly terrace was built. Li Huowang spotted some figures among them.

He filtered out the eunuchs holding horsetail whisks and others in different attire. His attention was caught by one man wearing a dragon robe—the Emperor of Liang.

This Emperor of Liang, clad in bright yellow imperial robes, stared silently down at the enemies below the tree.

Li Huowang could not see his face. It was completely hidden behind a beaded crown, strands of golden pearls hanging from top to bottom, covering the emperor's head entirely.

"Where is North Wind? Where is he?" Li Huowang was invisible as he peered intently at the base of the golden tree.

Those below seemed to be trying to climb the golden dragons to reach the terrace at the top.

But a group of black-clad eunuchs, with threads hanging from their feet, descended repeatedly. Wielding various weapons and magical artifacts, they drove the climbers back.

The faces of those climbing often twisted and distorted under the chanting, revealing the true color of mahjong tiles beneath, making Li Huowang realize they were Zuowandao.

Somewhat unexpectedly, the battle between the two sides did not seem very intense. It was as if both were waiting for something.

Li Huowang lay flat on the ground, straining to watch the distance. He still remembered the ability of the Heart-Element North Wind—he could swap bodies with others.

Seeing that the critical moment had arrived, Li Huowang did not panic. Enduring the unbearable chanting, he patiently searched among the Zuowandao.

He examined the dozens of Zuowandao slowly and carefully for a long time. Finally, he locked onto four North Winds.

"Wait... four North Winds?" Li Huowang almost thought he was seeing things, but after careful observation, he confirmed it. Among the faces shifting under the strange chanting, there were indeed four with the North Wind tile.

"Forget it. Four it is. But how am I supposed to find the one true Heart-Element among them?" Li Huowang looked at the distant scene, troubled.

And at this moment, the battle on both sides wasn't fierce enough for him to slip in and fish in troubled waters. If he rushed in now, he would just get attacked from both sides.

"What do I do? They're all here. Maybe... I should just... ask Zhuge Yuan for help?"

The image of Zhuge Yuan's face flashed through his mind, and Li Huowang hesitated. Dragging him into a dangerous situation like this would be throwing him into a fire pit.

"No. I'll wait and see."

Just as Li Huowang was thinking this, the Emperor of Liang, standing on the terrace atop the tree, began to speak.

"Are you still not resigned? Do you truly believe I could not predict you would come to cause trouble? I have foreseen every step you take. Today, even if both dice are thrown, along with those barbarians with ill intentions, none of them can stop my plan!"

The majestic, thunderous voice reached everyone present. A flicker of fear toward that voice stirred in every heart. Some with weaker resolve had already begun to turn and flee.

Hearing this, the Zuowandao showed no fear at all. Instead, they laughed loudly, mocking the emperor, occasionally mimicking his tone and words with exaggerated sarcasm.

"Hmph!" A cold snort spread outward like a shockwave. The Emperor of Liang turned slightly.

"National Preceptor, I request your assistance."

Just as a trembling old man, carrying a two-handed longsword engraved with the Twenty-Eight Mansions, stepped onto the terrace, a new commotion arose from the golden wall to the west.

Li Huowang turned to look as well. He saw a massive golden wall collapse with a thunderous crash, and a scholar in scholar's robes—Zhuge Yuan—appeared before everyone.

His expression was grim as he held his Judgment Brush, charging forward rapidly, as if chasing someone through the Great Qi.

And from ahead of him, figures kept tumbling out like poured beans.

Without exception, these people had mahjong tile heads. They were all Zuowandao.

As their numbers grew, Li Huowang's heart sank. "This is impossible! There are too many! This already exceeds the number of tiles at a mahjong table!"

And among them were some very strange tile colors. Plums, orchids, bamboos, chrysanthemums, spring, summer, autumn, winter—those he could accept. But there were even tile heads bearing the God of Wealth, a cat, and a mouse!

"Heh heh heh. Why not? Didn't know, did you? The mahjong of Liang doesn't have them, but the mahjong of the Great Qi does."

The hallucination Red Center beside him said smugly.