Just as Yuan Zhong was about to respond, a chilling howl echoed from the distant eastern mountains. His expression remained unchanged, but he turned to look. Far in the east, a line of red mist slowly began to spread across the sky.
Yuan Zhong's expression remained unchanged as he turned back with a smile. “I don’t know much about wood quality, but since Sister Ji does, why don’t you come with me to the mountains to pick out the best material?”
For Tan Yin, going up the mountain had always meant one thing: selecting wood.
Back when she was young, she had been mature beyond her years, unlike the other children in her family who would play and joke around on their trips to the mountains. She would always follow behind her father, listening carefully as he explained the different uses for various types of wood. Later, when her father was on his deathbed, his only concern was for her. He said, “Tan Yin, you've never played like the other children. I’m about to leave this world, and while I don’t worry about you, I do wonder—how will someone as withdrawn and serious as you ever find a good husband?”
She had never truly appreciated the beauty of the mountains. Her mind had always been consumed by the things she wanted to make, leaving no room for anything else.
Now, as she rode atop an Elysium bird, the creature flew slowly, skimming the treetops, so close that the leaves brushed the hem of her skirt. The distant mountains loomed, bathed in clear skies and gentle clouds—scenery found only in the mortal world. Yuan Zhong, riding his own bird beside her, chattered non-stop, as usual, filling the air with his endless ramblings.
Tan Yin paused on top of a tree, leaning down to pluck a leaf and inspect it. The Grand Monk sidled up next to her, almost pressing against her, asking eagerly, “What kind of tree is this?”
“A cypress.”
Yuan Zhong stretched lazily and grinned. “Why don’t we just chop this tree down and use it for the axle?”
Before he could finish, a sharp whistling sound split the air. The Elysium bird Yuan Zhong was riding screeched in pain as one of its wings was brutally severed, sending blood spraying everywhere. In an instant, the bird plummeted to the ground.
Tan Yin was shocked and instinctively looked down to check on Yuan Zhong, but before she could act, a strange whistling echoed from below. Her own Elysium bird became agitated, glancing nervously around, its wings flapping wildly. Tan Yin nearly lost her balance and fell off, clinging tightly to its neck as she tried to calm the panicked creature.
Another sharp whistling sound cut through the air, but this time it didn’t strike the bird. Instead, Tan Yin felt a sudden chill in her knee, followed by intense pain. Glancing down, she saw a deep, long gash in her knee, though the blood hadn’t yet begun to flow. Shocked, she looked around but saw no one.
Before she could react, another sharp pain pierced her back, as though she had been stabbed with a knife. Her body convulsed from the agony, and she lost her grip on the bird’s neck, tumbling straight down from the sky.
Yuan Zhong had already leaped from his wounded bird the moment its wing was severed, landing gracefully on the ground. He noticed a figure flash by in the treetops but chose not to pursue. Instead, he looked up to see Tan Yin’s bird flying erratically, rapidly disappearing into the distance. He deliberately called out, “Sister Ji! Don’t worry! I’m coming for you!”
With that, he ran after her, but it wasn’t long before she had vanished from sight. Yuan Zhong abruptly stopped, feeling the mountain breeze carry a faint, elegant fragrance. His face darkened as he followed the scent eastward. Soon, he came upon a large, deep pit in the ground, as if a giant had gouged it out.
Walking slowly to the edge, he looked down to find the bloodied corpse of a red fox at the bottom, clearly dead for some time. Next to the body was a broken wooden box, about half the height of a person, with many beaded trinkets scattered around it. The Youhu clan was known for making exquisite perfumes, and even their blood carried a fragrance—the more blood, the stronger the scent. Yet, that fragrance was now being slowly carried away by the wind.
Sighing softly, Yuan Zhong clasped his hands together and silently bowed to the fox’s body. The fox’s corpse gradually turned transparent, dissolving into tiny, shimmering lights that lingered around him, reluctant to leave, before finally fading away.
This was the last message left behind by his clansman. Yuan Zhong opened his palm, revealing a line of glowing words: “Encountered remnants of the War Ghost clan. Six detected. Urgent warning to fortify Orange Lake.”
Expressionless, Yuan Zhong wiped the glowing letters away with a finger. He turned slowly, letting out a heavy sigh. “So the War Ghost clan has learned the art of ambush as well?”
After a moment, several figures emerged from the trees, all clad in black with cold, stern faces. Each of their eyes glowed a sinister red as they stared at him.
One, two, three, four… Yuan Zhong counted. Five War Ghosts. No wonder the messenger died so quickly and so gruesomely.
The leader of the War Ghosts spoke coldly, “Your clan injured Lord Li Chaoyang first. Today, we’ll slaughter the foxes at Orange Lake to avenge him.”
Yuan Zhong let out a surprised laugh, shaking his right arm as he replied, “So this is about Li Chaoyang? I’ve got a score to settle with her too. It was me who sealed her in ice, and she’s the one who chopped off my right hand. It took a long time to reattach it, and it’s still not working properly.”
The War Ghosts’ faces changed instantly. They had heard tales of the Grand Monk of the Youhu clan, but they hadn’t expected this unassuming man to be him. One of the War Ghosts, unable to contain himself, drew a long whip from his waist and lashed it at Yuan Zhong’s head.
Yuan Zhong stepped back, and the whip struck the ground where he had stood, leaving a large crater. Waving his hand nonchalantly, he said, “Take it easy. I’m a lazy person. You’re not all here yet—let’s wait until everyone’s gathered so we can finish this in one go.”
The War Ghost leader sneered, “You may have wounded Lord Li Chaoyang, but we won’t underestimate you. Today, we’ll send you and your loved one to the underworld together.”
Loved one? Yuan Zhong blinked in surprise. Emerging from the forest were two more figures—one was another War Ghost, dressed in black with blood-red eyes, and the other was a bloodied young woman in his grasp—Tan Yin.
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