The mountain lord was even more alarmed. “I truly had no idea! I... I am of advanced age and no longer participate in immortal conflicts, Honorable Monk. Could this... could this all be a misunderstanding?”
Yuan Zhong handed the daggers to him. “Take a look and see if they are indeed yours.”
The mountain lord carefully drew the daggers from their sheaths. The dull, black blades instantly emitted an almost maddening aura of slaughter. During the ancient war between gods and demons, these daggers had killed countless deities, radiating an overwhelming intent to kill. The mountain lord couldn’t bear to look at them any longer and immediately sheathed the daggers, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Clearly, he was just as confused.
Over the years, he had accumulated a collection of at least eighty or ninety thousand treasures, varying in quality and rarity. It was impossible to remember every single one. However, any supreme treasures linked to the ancient war between gods and demons, like the Soul Lantern, were kept under tight, magical guard in the Night Tranquil Pavilion, where even his closest disciples couldn’t access them.
But the daggers were now in his hands, and the Honorable Monk was asking about them directly. How was he supposed to respond?
The mountain lord tucked the daggers back into his sleeve and said gravely, “Honorable Monk, please wait for a moment.”
Before he even finished speaking, he turned into a gust of wind and rushed toward the Night Tranquil Pavilion at the mountain's peak. Upon landing, he saw a purple figure standing in front of the pavilion. Anger and alarm surged within him as he shouted, “Who dares disturb my treasure vault?!”
The figure didn’t move or turn around. The mountain lord, even more enraged, stepped forward, transforming his immortal energy into a giant serpent that lunged viciously at the figure. However, with a casual wave of his long sleeve, the figure dispersed the immense power as if it were nothing more than dust. The mountain lord froze in shock, and before he could react, several beams of red light struck him, leaving him utterly defenseless.
The red light penetrated his body, and his mind instantly became hazy. His body was no longer under his control as his hand reached into his sleeve, retrieved the God-Slaying Daggers, and placed them on the ground. Then, he slowly turned around, transforming into a gust of wind and rushing down the mountain. It wasn’t until he landed that he suddenly snapped out of his trance. It felt as though he had just woken from a dream, with no memory of what had just happened.
Wait... The Celestial Flower and Wine Festival... He was supposed to be in Pi Xiang Hall greeting the guests. Confused, he turned back to look at the Night Tranquil Pavilion. The wind blew steadily, and there was no one in sight. The complex immortal spells surrounding the pavilion were still intact. Shaking his head in bewilderment, he hurried toward Pi Xiang Hall.
Yuan Zhong hadn’t expected the mountain lord to leave so abruptly. He had wanted to ask more questions, but the mountain lord’s demeanor didn’t seem deceitful. Could it be that the mountain lord truly didn’t know how the daggers ended up in Tang Hua’s possession?
Puzzled, Yuan Zhong paced around the small chamber, waiting for the mountain lord to return. Half of the room was filled with gifts from the immortals, glowing with various lights and fragrances.
As he casually scanned the room, his gaze landed on a porcelain basin in the corner. Unlike the other immortal treasures, the basin was completely ordinary. Yet he recognized it—he had seen it in the capital of the Qiong Kingdom, in that shop... the porcelain basin Tang Hua had bought!
Yuan Zhong’s heart sank. Tang Hua was here? How dare he show up?
Slowly walking over, Yuan Zhong picked up the porcelain basin. There were faint cracks, as though it had been broken and expertly repaired by a master craftsman. The repairs were so fine that it was hard to notice the damage unless inspected closely. A faint fragrance emanated from the basin, carrying the distinct scent of fox blood.
Yuan Zhong lowered his head, sniffing carefully, and his expression darkened.
This was Tang Hua’s scent. The scent of his blood!
He threw the porcelain basin aside and transformed into a beam of golden light, darting out of the chamber. He had to find Tang Hua!
Meanwhile, Tan Yin had been following Tang Hua closely. He walked faster and faster, circling around a grove of osmanthus trees, then heading toward the highest peak. She was puzzled. Though she didn’t know what significance this peak held in Xiangqu Mountain, the presence of the Soul Lantern came from its summit. What was he planning? To retrieve the Soul Lantern?
She was about to take another step when an unusual, subtle disturbance caught her attention. It wasn’t the aura of a demon, but rather... something she was intimately familiar with, an aura only a deity’s divine consciousness could produce. Clearly, this presence had compressed its divine power to the smallest level, avoiding detection from the other immortals. But it couldn’t escape Tan Yin’s keen senses.
Tan Yin precisely pinpointed the source of the disturbance—it was coming from Tang Hua. Her heart filled with dread. Was it possible that Tang Hua was already dead? Had his body been taken over by a deity? She had sensed nothing before, but now the divine aura was growing stronger by the moment. Was he deliberately releasing this divine aura to lure her closer?
Without a second thought, Tan Yin transformed into a beam of light and chased him up the peak. There was not a soul in sight. The mountain was steep, with jagged rocks, and Tang Hua’s purple silhouette was now a small dot, almost at the summit.
The divine aura grew nearer, clearer. Tan Yin suddenly stopped in her tracks. This divine power—there was no mistaking it. It was the power of Tai He, the one she had longed for over five thousand years, the one she should never have encountered at this place and time: Tai He's divine power!
Tan Yin felt as though her entire world was spinning. She couldn’t bring herself to wonder why Taihe’s divine consciousness had suddenly appeared at Xiangqu Mountain. Had he awakened? Had he come to the mortal realm to find her? Had he possessed Tang Hua’s body? But his left hand hadn’t healed yet, and his divine power had been depleted—how could he descend to the mortal realm?
These unanswered questions filled her with anxiety, and she raced toward the summit. Tang Hua stood in front of a small tower encased in layers of magical restraints. He would answer all of her questions!
In the blink of an eye, Tan Yin reached the summit. She stared in disbelief at the familiar yet unfamiliar purple figure, sensing the divine power she hadn’t felt in five thousand years. Taking a slow, hesitant step forward, her voice trembled: “...Tai He?”
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