Chapter Thirty-Three: The Lady's Invitation

Across the vast expanse of prairie, after enduring a harsh winter, the wild grass began to grow rampant under the caress of the spring breeze and the gentle nourishment of spring rain.

Scattered across the grasslands were countless lakes, glimmering like a sky full of stars. In the Spirit Realm, there was a lake known as the Little Lake, so named for its modest size, while deep within the prairie lay another, the Great Lake, called so because of its immense breadth.

Now, upon the boundless surface of the Great Lake, a sheet of solid ice three feet thick had formed. Upon this thick ice, more than a dozen figures raced swiftly toward the lake’s heart.

Suddenly, an explosion echoed from the center of the lake. The whole surface quaked violently, and the three-foot-thick ice split apart, opening into countless gaping maws that threatened to devour all.

The figures darted and leapt to evade disaster. One among them, after a few agile movements, landed atop a floating chunk of ice. With a burst of energy from his hand, he struck the lake’s surface, sending up a spray of white foam. The iceberg shot forth like an arrow loosed from a bow.

The young man’s face was etched with urgency. Suddenly, he leapt into the air, leaving the floating ice beneath his feet, soaring more than a dozen yards to land on a larger chunk, closer to the lake’s center. No sooner had he touched down than he dashed forward at full speed, charging toward the heart of the lake.

“Third Brother, wait! The way ahead is perilous; we should go together,” called a figure approaching on his right.

“You all regroup before coming over. I’ll go ahead. We don’t know how Senior Brother and the others are faring,” the young man replied, quickening his pace as he left a flurry of icy shards in his wake, sweeping toward the lake’s center like a tempest.

A cold breeze from the west swept across the prairie.

The western wind brushed against Zhou Yu, sending a shiver through his body as goosebumps rose on his skin. He frowned, gazing westward, where just moments before a pillar of white light had shot into the sky.

Everyone in the Martial Arena had risen to their feet, peering toward the west and murmuring amongst themselves. Yet the envoys seated on the viewing platform remained silent.

For news had just reached them, brought by a brief but heated quarrel between Zuo Hou and Jin Buhuan: a sacred beast had appeared above the Great Lake outside the Spirit Realm.

This sacred beast was none other than the Saint Qilin, venerated as a totem by the Beast Sect for centuries, a legendary creature said to rule over winter and command the powers of ice and snow.

Nan Fenglang, remembering that Hua Queyue was absent today, had a flash of understanding in her eyes.

“Hahaha! Now I see the Spirit Realm’s true shamelessness! You took the information I gave you and tried to seize the sacred beast for yourselves!” Zuo Hou raged, pointing at Jin Buhuan’s nose. “You, Jin Buhuan, famed for your hatred of evil, yet you commit such a base act of betrayal!”

Jin Buhuan lifted his eyelids and replied, “The sacred beast has appeared at a time when the demon clans are in chaos. It should be used to fight the demons. But what of your Beast Sect? You ignore the world’s plight, only caring for your own strength and refusing to act. Of what use is the sacred beast to you? To satisfy your sect master’s ambition?”

“Jin Buhuan! You will pay for this! On behalf of the Beast Sect, I hereby declare our withdrawal from the Anti-Demon Alliance!” Zuo Hou shouted.

Jin Buhuan whipped his battle robe with a flourish, a murderous intent radiating from him. “Even when you joined the alliance, Beast Sect only paid lip service. Do you really think we can’t do without you?”

Though Zuo Hou’s face turned pale under the weight of Jin Buhuan’s killing intent, he roared back, “You want to kill me? Go ahead! Try it!”

“Do you think I won’t?” Jin Buhuan stepped forward, golden light blazing from his body.

Nan Fenglang drifted between Zuo Hou and Jin Buhuan, saying, “Elder Jin, these are extraordinary times. No matter what, the Beast Sect is still part of humanity. Let’s talk this through.”

“Hmph! Disciples of the Beast Sect, follow me!” Zuo Hou, seizing the opportunity, turned and strode away.

The fighting in the Martial Arena had already come to a halt due to this sudden incident; even Abuli and Jack had ceased their battle.

The golden dragon Morrison had summoned merged back into his fallen body. Morrison, having recovered a little, struggled to his feet and stared dazedly westward.

The fierce argument from the viewing platform snapped Morrison back to his senses.

After the quarrel, Zuo Hou led the Beast Sect disciples out of the arena, heading deep into the grasslands.

When Morrison met Zuo Hou’s gaze, he clenched his teeth and followed him.

Jack, intending to do the same, was stopped by a single glance from Morrison.

Zhou Yu watched Morrison’s retreating figure, a strange emotion flickering in his eyes. He murmured, “I hope you stay safe. May we meet again.”

“China Zhou, are you all right? What did you just say?” Abuli, standing beside him, asked.

“I’m fine. But it looks like something big is happening,” Zhou Yu replied, glancing at the increasingly restless crowd.

On the viewing platform, the Soul Sect envoy, after a long silence, took a step forward, bowing from afar to Jin Buhuan. “Elder Jin, on this perfect night of full moon and blossoms, I shall take my disciples to enjoy the moonlight.”

Before Jin Buhuan could protest, the envoys of the Beichen clan and various nations each found their own flimsy excuse to lead their people from the arena, heading into the depths of the prairie.

“Giggle... Since everyone’s going, we have to see the excitement too. Farewell, Elder Jin,” Nan Fenglang said with a charming smile, twisting her waist as she turned away.

With a sharp flick of his robe, Jin Buhuan sat down, laughing heartily as he looked at the now-empty viewing platform. “Fools, all of you!”

“Young man, aren’t you going to watch the fun?” Nan Fenglang stopped beside Zhou Yu and asked.

“Is it the sacred beast?” Zhou Yu asked.

Nan Fenglang pursed her lips, and with that motion her previous seductive beauty became utterly endearing. She replied, “Why not go see for yourself?”

Unable to resist, Zhou Yu nodded and silently chided Dou Niang in his heart: See that? This is how you act cute!

“Master! Let’s go have a look!” Zhou Yu waved eagerly at the old man.

The old man rose from the rest area, took a swig of wine, and grumbled as he walked over, “At my age, I still have to accompany you to see such terrifying things.”

“But then,” he added, joining Zhou Yu, “to witness the advent of a sacred beast with my own eyes would make this life worthwhile.”

“Abuli, are you coming?” Zhou Yu asked.

Abuli was about to decline when he noticed Nan Feng Xiaolang from the Nan Feng family glancing over. He immediately changed his mind, “I’m coming!”

Thus, Zhou Yu, the old man, and Abuli joined the Nan Feng family’s group and entered the grasslands.

The full moon overhead was obscured by clouds, and the path ahead was shrouded in darkness. The waist-high wild grass brushed constantly against Zhou Yu’s arms. Breathing in the scent of fresh grass, Zhou Yu felt utterly at ease. Apart from the bone-chilling western wind, everything was perfect.

Their group moved forward at a measured pace, utterly unlike the hurried parties that had left earlier.

Zhou Yu noticed Abuli glancing about, searching for something. “Abuli, what are you looking for?” he asked.

Just as Abuli was about to utter the name “Xiaolang,” a blush crept up his face—but as he was a black man and it was night, Zhou Yu didn’t notice.

“I’m looking for those who left before us. They must have arrived already. Why are we moving so slowly?” Abuli said.

Zhou Yu chuckled, “First, wherever there’s wind, there are no secrets from the Nan Feng family. I think the western wind brought news to them; that’s why they’re moving so slowly. Second, maybe they really are just here to watch the spectacle. Third, we’re truly here as bystanders—the dangerous business of killing and dying should be left to those ahead.”

The old man nodded, now and then picking light red wildflowers and dropping them into his wine jug as he remarked, “That’s about right.”

Just then, a young woman from the Nan Feng family approached Zhou Yu and said, “Young master, my lady invites you.”

This phrase, “my lady invites you,” was well-known on the Road of Rebirth, for whenever a lady of the Nan Feng family fancied a man, she would send her maid with this very invitation to summon him to her bridal sedan.

Yet Zhou Yu was unaware of its reputation or implications. So, under the envious gaze of the old man—whose eyes nearly blazed with fire—Zhou Yu nodded calmly and replied, “Very well, I’ll come at once.”