The Threshold of Fengdu

As he listened to the dried-corpse lamas speak, Li Huowang began to grasp the consequences of the Siming of Death stirring.

“Because of this, the grass in Qingqiu is all dead. When the grass is gone, the cattle and sheep will die. When the livestock are gone, the people will die.”

“If this keeps up, Qingqiu will become Dead Man’s Mound once more.”

“Death should be the final rest, the end. But now, because the Great Black Heaven has risen, the number of dead under heaven will only grow.”

But as he heard this, confusion flickered through Li Huowang’s mind. Shouldn’t the massive death toll be caused by Yuer Shen’s invasion and the Fa Sect’s devastation?

How did this creature’s version twist the chain of causation into something else entirely?

He was half-convinced, half-skeptical.

“Great Master, I’m sorry the grass in Qingqiu is dying, but what does that have to do with me going to Fengdu? I’m not going for anything else—I just want to find a person there.”

“If you’re telling me this, I can’t help. You should take this to Xuanpin and the others.”

No matter what they said, Li Huowang hadn’t forgotten his purpose here. He had to get his own clay Buddha across the river first.

A creak sounded. The ropes around their necks snapped. One of the dried corpses fell from midair, landing directly in front of Li Huowang.

Its withered face, thin as a shell, twisted into an expression of raw fury.

“Now that the Great Black Heaven has moved, where do you think it moved? Naturally, in Fengdu! The Great Black Heaven, Om Ah Hum, returns to true enlightenment! You don’t even have to touch it—just one look at it, and you’ll find it hard to even want to die!”

Li Huowang’s brow tightened. Simings. He tried to recall everything he had seen back in the White Jade Capital.

So much time had passed; most of it was blurred and forgotten. But even the fragments that remained made his body tremble uncontrollably.

In the few times he had faced a Siming—aside from Ji Zai—whether it was Doumu or Bashe, he was less than an ant before them.

And even then, they hadn’t descended. They were merely avatars, or had simply glanced at him from afar.

A Siming. The Siming of Death. Did he really have the right now to take what he wanted from beside such a being?

But if he didn’t cultivate the false, his current state would only harm himself and others if he dragged it out any longer.

He couldn’t find any other way right now. And the Fa Sect was still ravaging the land. This was no time to dawdle.

Caught between two impossible options, Li Huowang stood there and thought long and hard. Finally, he fixed his gaze on the dried corpse before him.

“Since you’re so familiar with this so-called Great Black Heaven, you must have a way to avoid it, right?”

Seeing the faint shift in the corpse’s sunken eyes, Li Huowang pressed on immediately.

“Since Xuanpin has talked with you, you should know who I am. And how bad the situation with the Fa Sect is right now.”

“If the Fa Sect really does counterattack, how long can your Zhongyin Temple hold out?”

“I’m not delusional. I’m not trying to arm-wrestle the Great Black Heaven. I just want to find one medicinal ingredient in Fengdu. Once I find it, I’ll come back.”

“With a great enemy at the gate, helping me is helping yourselves.”

The room full of dried corpses was silent. They seemed to be thinking hard, still hesitating.

Then, the whole hall shuddered violently. Li Huowang looked toward the door and his face turned pale.

“What are you waiting for! Look! Another hour has vanished! Do you need all eleven hours to disappear before you’ll move?”

That finally shook them. The dried-corpse lamas nodded at Li Huowang.

“Very well. You wish to try. We will not stop you.”

“But I must say this: even if we are willing to help, Fengdu is still exceptionally dangerous. You must take care.”

“Enough. We’re out of time. Get on with it!” Hearing this, Li Huowang finally released the Innate Pneuma within his body, dispersing the false image he had just cultivated.

Yes, the hours had not actually vanished. Li Huowang knew that if he didn’t push them, these old fossils would never help him.

The ability to Cultivate the True was a terrifyingly powerful divine power—if only it had no side effects.

Soon, Li Huowang was led into a meditation chamber lined with candles on every wall.

He thought this was the entrance to Fengdu, but the dried-corpse lamas told him to sit cross-legged.

As Li Huowang sat down in the center of the chamber, the lamas circled him and sat as well.

“Remember this: once you enter Fengdu, whether you find the medicinal ingredient or not, you may only stay for three hours. The moment you hear the wheel sound, return immediately. Not a single moment’s delay.”

“Fine!” Li Huowang placed his hands on his knees and slowly closed his eyes.

The dried-corpse lamas began to chant, their voices rising in a language beyond comprehension.

“…Prala…prati…Indra…ya…”

Slowly, they pulled a transparent glaive of glass from their robes. One of them swung it—directly at Li Huowang’s head.

Li Huowang’s eyes snapped open. “What are you doing!” he roared.

But the corpses did not react. They sat like sculptures.

Li Huowang reached out to touch them—and his hand passed straight through their bodies.