Long Er waved his hand, and a gray robe appeared, the same color as his former donkey hide.
“This is the Ten Thousand Forms Robe, a rare treasure I acquired in Mu Xiao Mountain when I first came to the mortal world. It can transform into any shape and hide the wearer’s true presence. You can imagine whatever appearance you need, and it will take that form. Using the robe for our purposes might cause some disturbance that could attract the immortals, but the royal tombs beyond the rear mountains of the imperial city can suppress any demonic aura. I’ll help you rescue Chong Zhao, and we’ll meet at the tombs.”
"The royal tombs?” Bai Shuo hesitated, but then nodded, accepting the robe. “Alright.”
Long Er turned and leapt out the window, disappearing into the night toward the Heavenly Prison. Bai Shuo knelt reverently, bowing three times in the ancestral hall, before slipping on the Ten Thousand Forms Robe and leaving without looking back.
The General’s Residence was heavily guarded, and Bai Shuo moved with extra caution. Each time she was nearly spotted, she barely managed to evade capture. After a few minutes, she crawled through a small hole under the wall and ran toward the outskirts of the city.
Meanwhile, Long Er reached the Heavenly Prison, blowing a sleeping mist toward the entrance. He slipped in and found Chong Zhao’s cell. Chong Zhao lay on the floor, his face covered in blood, completely unresponsive as Long Er nudged him, revealing only half of his face. Long Er, though young himself, curled his lip.
“Humph, just a mortal. Smart as Bai Shuo might be, here she is risking her life for this pretty boy.”
Grumbling, he picked Chong Zhao up and slung him over his back, darting quickly out of the prison. A moment later, they reached the outer wall. The guards were still fast asleep, and as he prepared to scale the last wall—
A sudden burst of immortal light! A giant net dropped down from the sky, surrounding Long Er on all sides.
Damn it! They found me! Long Er’s expression turned grim, and he conjured a gnarled staff from his palm, warding off the celestial net.
A host of celestial soldiers appeared above him, manipulating the net from all directions, making it impossible for him to escape. Leading them was Qing Yi, who looked down in astonishment upon seeing Long Er, now appearing as a mere boy.
“Only a tree spirit?” Qing Yi surveyed the imperial city, deep in thought. For half a month now, the city had been steeped in demonic energy. Could this child really be the source?
In mid-air, Long Er put up a fierce resistance. Though outmatched, he skillfully wielded his old staff, refusing to be captured. As dawn approached and the city began to stir, Qing Yi stepped forward, extending his duster toward Long Er. The duster struck Long Er on the head, stars flashing before his eyes. He wobbled, then fell to the ground with Chong Zhao in tow. The celestial net shot out, trapping both of them!
Beyond the city, Bai Shuo waited anxiously by a large rock near the royal tombs. As the last trace of night faded and the first light touched the rock’s edge, she heard approaching footsteps. She turned, eyes bright with anticipation.
“A-Zhao!” she called out.
But as she saw who it was, her excitement turned to dread, and she stepped back in fear.
An incense stick earlier, just outside the prison…
As the net closed in on Long Er and Chong Zhao, an intense chill descended. A thin layer of ice enveloped everything within a mile of the prison—everything except for the falling Long Er.
A silver light shot toward Long Er, his eyes filling with even greater terror. Unwilling to submit, he raised his staff against the light, only to have it shattered effortlessly. The light struck his forehead, transforming the green-robed boy into a small wooden donkey, barely the size of a palm. The tiny wooden figure spun helplessly on the ground before lying still.
The wooden donkey floated up into a pair of slender hands, hidden within a shimmering aura of demonic light. In the moonlight, the man’s features were obscured, but his voice was cold and clear.
“If you’re so set on being a donkey, you’ll remain one forever.”
The wooden donkey, though lifeless, seemed to have vacant, pitiful eyes, radiating boundless despair. The man tossed the tiny donkey into his sleeve and waved his hand, causing the ice around Chong Zhao to dissolve. The young man vanished, whisked away into the air, and the figure turned to leave, paying no mind to the surrounding immortals.
As he departed, Qing Yi finally freed himself from the ice binding him, a blast of celestial energy dispersing the frost. He released his fellow celestials from the icy hold and brandished his duster toward Fan Yue, blocking his path.
“Stop!”
But as the duster touched Fan Yue’s back, an overwhelming surge of demonic energy exploded, shattering it instantly. Qing Yi coughed up blood and staggered back, caught by his men.
"Lord!"
Some celestial soldiers attempted to pursue Fan Yue, but Qing Yi raised his hand, stopping them.
“Stand down!” Qing Yi, pale, watched as Fan Yue’s figure disappeared into the distance. “That was the master of the Hall of Luminous Moon.”
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