The Earth-Dragon Turns

Sun Baolu’s words pulled the agitated Yang Xiaohai back.

“Senior Sister Bai has taken in quite a few goddaughters and godsons now; the village is just about full. Brother Baolu, what’s wrong? You want to come live in Oxheart Village?”

Sun Baolu glanced at his people in the distance, then lowered his voice. “The clan head doesn’t think there’s any danger, but I don’t see it that way. If the Later Shu really falls to the Yu’er Kingdom, then Qingqiu is next.”

“I know the Great Khan said he’d send troops to help Later Shu, but I think that’s a long shot. This Yu’er Kingdom is pressing in hard. If the great, resource-rich Great Liang won’t help, I’m not sure we can beat them. I need to find a way out for my people.”

His face showed a flicker of impatience. “I really don’t know what the dog emperor of Great Liang is thinking. Doesn’t he understand that when the lips are gone, the teeth get cold? If he doesn’t send troops to help Qingqiu and Later Shu now, and both of those fall to the Yu’er Kingdom, what can he do alone!”

“Brother Baolu, the ‘dog emperor of Great Liang’ you’re talking about is Gao Zhijian.”

Sun Baolu’s eyes went wide. “He’s really the emperor? You weren’t just blowing smoke at me just now?”

“I wasn’t blowing smoke. I never lie.”

Sun Baolu chewed on his back teeth for a moment, then slapped his hands together in frustration. “Ai! What were the people of Great Liang thinking, picking an idiot for an emperor? No wonder he won’t send troops at such a critical moment. If Great Liang is gone too, where are we supposed to hide from the war?”

“Brother Baolu, don’t think so negatively. Maybe the Yu’er Kingdom isn’t that powerful.” Not knowing what had happened in Great Liang, Yang Xiaohai sounded unusually optimistic.

“The grass in Qingqiu has turned yellow. That means the Eternal Heaven is angry. Ever since the last Heavenly Calamity, Qingqiu has had quite a few Earth-Dragon turnings. My mother is right—being prepared never hurt anyone. By the way, what is Senior Brother Li doing now?” Even though Senior Brother Li was a bit mad, whenever there was a problem, he could always solve it.

Yang Xiaohai’s eyes showed a hint of confusion at the question. “I don’t know. When I left, Senior Brother Li had swapped for a lotus-root head. He was holed up in Oxheart Village recovering.”

“Alright. I’ll see if I can get a letter to Senior Brother Li. Safe travels, and be careful. If it gets too bad, just come back.” Sun Baolu patted Yang Xiaohai on the shoulder, and the cart began to roll again.

Sun Baolu’s mother had wanted to keep them for a meal before they left, but now that Yang Xiaohai knew his own people might be in danger, he didn’t want to stop for a moment.

By the time they left the tent area, there were more than a dozen sheep following behind Yang Xiaohai’s cart—gifts from Sun Baolu, meant to be food for the journey.

Naturally, Yang Xiaohai wouldn’t take them for nothing. He had Zhao Xiumei leave a gold bar in Sun Baolu’s tent.

The journey took several days. Yang Xiaohai moved slowly, following the map. The yellow grass stretched in every direction, making it difficult to pinpoint their location.

But Sun Baolu had made it clear: if they went between Qingqiu’s grasslands and the Gobi of Later Shu, and just kept traveling downward, they would eventually reach the coast.

“Should be about there.” Yang Xiaohai looked at the craggy rocks in the distance and the yellow grassland nearby, touching the freshly grown stubble on his chin. He felt a nervous flutter in his chest.

“Husband, have some mutton soup. Qingqiu mutton is very nourishing.” A steaming clay pot of soup was handed to him.

He took it and drank. The chill in his body was immediately wrapped in warmth. Even though it was seasoned only with salt and wild vegetables like Chinese onions, the excellent quality of the Qingqiu lamb made up for any shortcomings.

“Wrap up the leftover mutton. Make sure the blood is drained. The weather is cold, so it won’t spoil for a while, but the smell of blood can still attract some beasts.”

“Yes, I understand.” Zhao Xiumei felt that when it came to food, the confident, talkative Yang Xiaohai was especially pleasing to the eye.

It was seeing him focus so intently and cook with such ease that had made her take a liking to him in the first place.

After a quick meal, the cart wheels started turning again. But after only a few rotations, the horse pulling the cart suddenly stopped, reared up on its front legs, and let out a terrified whinny, as if trying to break free from its harness.

The sheep that had been obediently following the cart immediately began to scatter in panic.

“What’s happening? What’s going on?” Faced with the sudden chaos, Yang Xiaohai didn’t know what to do.

His eyes filled with fear. He opened his mouth, stuttering, about to say something, when the ground began to shake violently.

“Earth—Earth-Dragon turning over! Get down!!” Zhao Xiumei threw herself on top of Yang Xiaohai, sheltering him with her own body.

In an instant, the world turned upside down, the wind and clouds shifted. In the face of this horrifying event, the two could only huddle together, trembling helplessly, waiting in despair and terror for it to pass.

When the shaking subsided a little, Yang Xiaohai crawled out from under Zhao Xiumei and looked around. Then he saw an utterly astonishing sight.

The distant grassland was flowing like seawater. The whole of Qingqiu seemed to have become a yellow ocean.

Just as he was stunned by the sight, a crack, stretching from far, far away, appeared beneath them.

With a sound like a snap, the crack instantly became a massive chasm. Like a great mouth of Qingqiu, it swallowed them both, along with the desperate screams that tore from their throats.

He didn’t know how long it had been. When Yang Xiaohai groggily woke up, his first thought, ignoring everything else, was to find Zhao Xiumei.

But the dim surroundings—he could barely see his own fingers—made it impossible to find her. “Xiumei! Xiumei!” he shouted into the darkness.

His echo was loud. The place seemed vast. Yang Xiaohai looked up in terror, but saw only pitch blackness. He seemed to be underground.

“Xiumei, where are you!?” His voice trembled as he yelled.

What lay beneath Qingqiu was left unsaid. Yang Xiaohai’s hands shook as he reached into his robes, but they found nothing. The withered-ruyi charm Senior Brother Li had given him for protection was gone.

Now, Yang Xiaohai was truly panicking. He had learned from Sun Baolu that Qingqiu had been having frequent Earth-Dragon turnings lately, but he had never imagined the movement would be this strong, strong enough to swallow them whole.

Just as Yang Xiaohai was frantic, like an ant on a hot pan, not knowing what to do, he suddenly heard a noise to his left.

In this lightless place, beneath the demon-infested ground of Qingqiu… what could it be? He didn’t even dare to think about it.

Trembling, he was about to back away when a simple, honest voice came from that direction. “That voice… I feel like I’ve heard it somewhere before. Hey, I remember you. Your name’s Yang Xiaohai, right?”

Hearing his own name called out, Yang Xiaohai’s heart, which had been in his throat, dropped a little. But he didn’t let his guard down completely.

“Who… who are you?”

“It’s me.” The speaker began to walk toward him.

Soon, Yang Xiaohai saw a familiar face—the slightly bluish face of Lyu Juren.