Chapter 12: The Prince Falls into the Well, the Immortal Arrives in a Palanquin

The moment Zhao Xiang’er leapt into the well, the blue-and-white sedan chair with its white curtains billowing passed through the imperial city’s archway.

The young emperor had long been waiting in the palace hall. The imperial city, once shrouded in gloom, gradually erupted into a clamor as the sedan chair approached.

Ning Changjiu remarked.

It must be the immortal master sought from beyond the mortal world. Shall we go see?

Ning Xiaoling’s eyes shone brightly with admiration and reverence. Yet upon hearing Ning Changjiu’s words, she instinctively shook her head.

It’s not like they’re some three-headed, six-armed monster. What’s there to see?

With that, Ning Xiaoling rose from the lakeside, clapped her hands, and walked away from the city gate.

Ning Changjiu watched her slender, delicate silhouette, his eyes narrowing slightly.

North of the imperial city, at the heart of the Undying Forest, the gates of the Witchmaster’s Hall slowly opened. Disciples clad in ceremonial robes, scrolls in hand, streamed in and out of the hall like a morning court session.

All events occurring within the imperial city in recent days were recorded within their hands.

The aged figure of the Witchmaster sat enthroned upon a jade lotus pedestal. The ancient tome he never set down lay open upon his knees. Before him, three stacks of memorials—each paper slip held in place by wooden blocks—had already piled high.

The Witchmaster extended his index finger, its nails elongated, and with a flick, the scrolls rose into the air. The papers unfolded, spreading out before him one by one. His gaze swept slowly over them, his brow gradually furrowing.

At midnight, Zhao Shisong was attacked but saved by a young Taoist priest. He survived, but Tang Yu remains missing.

The entire household of the Young General’s mansion has fallen ill. A servant jumped into the lake at the hour of the Ox after suffering nightmares.

His Majesty has not left the palace again. Today, there was contention in court over whether to activate the Vermilion Bird Formation to protect the city.

Song Ce has been quite well-behaved, performing only the duties assigned by His Majesty. There is nothing amiss.

At the third hour of the morning, Ning Changjiu and Ning Xiaoling accompanied Zhao Shisong on a tour of the imperial city. Strange birds followed overhead, yet no other anomalies occurred.

All assassins entering the city at the hour of the Rabbit have taken their positions. However, the State Master’s residence is protected by an array, preventing surveillance.

At the hour of the Snake, a small blue-and-white sedan chair entered the city. It must be the immortal master sought from beyond the mortal world.

The Witchmaster furrowed his brow, murmuring to himself.

So soon?

A blue-and-white sedan chair? Could it be someone from the Sword-Proclaiming Heavenly Sect?

People knew little of those secluded immortal sects. Only at his level of attainment did one grasp some of their hidden truths.

Nearly all immortal sects were meticulously supported by great dynasties. To vie for the privilege of sponsoring certain sects, countless wars had erupted between nations.

Those admitted to cultivate within immortal sects were almost invariably individuals capable of forming innate spiritual cores—exceptional talents born once in a thousand.

Most immortal sects maintained a detached stance toward the mortal world, intervening only when a nation faced genuine peril.

But the Sword Heaven Sect was not even an immortal sect within Zhao’s borders.

Back when the Bloodfeather Lord breached the imperial city and no immortal descended to stop him, the Witch Sovereign had understood: the immortals had long abandoned Zhao.

Yet today, this reclusive immortal sect had finally revealed itself. Could the turmoil in the imperial capital be far more complex than he had imagined?

As these thoughts swirled, the Witch Lord traced his finger along the edge of the ancient scroll, his expression complex. He glanced at the young man kneeling beside him and asked.

Qiu Li, do you know the realm of that immortal master?

The youth named Qiu Li respectfully replied.

Only that she is a woman. That blue-and-white sedan chair seems to hold a heavenly barrier; the Mixed-Eye Pearl cannot discern her cultivation level.

The Witch Lord nodded.

How prepared are those men?

They await Zhao Xiang’er’s departure from the State Master’s residence. Kill without mercy.

The Witchmaster murmured.

No more mishaps this time. I’ll handle the rest.

Qiu Li remained prostrate. After a moment’s hesitation, he voiced his lingering doubt.

Master… is there any chance the State Master might emerge from the residence?

The Witchmaster closed his eyes in contemplation. He lifted his head to gaze at the beam of light filtering through the palace ceiling, then shook his head.

Impossible.

Within the State Master’s residence, ripples trembled wildly upon the well’s surface before quickly settling. It seemed merely the sorrowful act of an ordinary woman throwing herself in, followed by utter stillness.

After Zhao Xiang’er plunged into the water, layers of the watery curtain rippled outward. Those curtains seemed to carry a sharp edge, slicing through the thin red ribbon binding her hair, shredding fragments of her skirt and sleeves, and even leaving faint traces of blood on her porcelain-white face.

Her black skirt unfurled in the water before plunging downward in an instant. Ignoring the shimmering, array-like water curtains, Zhao Xiang’er’s form plunged through layer upon layer of obstruction, sinking rapidly.

Soon, her hand touched the icy stone wall. The girl coughed lightly, a mouthful of blood spilling from the corner of her lips, carried away by the current, blooming into a flower invisible in the darkness.

After touching the stone wall, she kicked off violently, swimming deeper into the darkness.

She had descended into wells as a child, though those memories had grown hazy. She only recalled swimming and swimming until she reached an utterly empty underground palace. Now, the water here felt distinctly more sinister than back then—a clammy chill and viscous texture touched her skin.

Deep within the ancient well, the surroundings abruptly opened up. A turbulent dark current surged over the stone path, like a great sword lying across her path. On the opposite bank of that current, a faint, yellowish glow flickered.

Zhao Xiang’er wielded her umbrella like a sword, striking downward through the air. Amidst the sudden roar of exploding water, the girl plunged into the torrent, slicing horizontally through the currents. Beyond the water lay an artificially carved wall. Light seeped from a passageway within the wall, flanked at its entrance by two colossal golden-armored statues wielding massive axes.

Zhao Xiang’er used the wall to propel herself upward, leaping onto the passageway. The moment her foot touched down, the two golden statues seemed to come to life, their massive axes swinging down toward her.

Unfazed, Zhao Xiang’er charged straight through, her body deftly evading the two axes. As the axes fell, the two golden statues struck each other instead. The sound of shattering metal echoed behind her. The two massive axes connected mid-air, transforming into a single whirling blade that rolled along the passageway, hurtling toward the girl’s back.

Zhao Xiang’er seemed intimately familiar with the mechanisms here. As the axes rolled toward her like a whirlwind, she leapt upward, pressing her body against the tunnel ceiling. The axes rolled beneath her, passing just three feet from her face. The axe wind stung sharply but failed to harm her.

Her form descended. She understood that while the axe appeared deadly, its true purpose was merely to awaken whatever lay deep within the underground palace.

Floating flames without a source or origin flickered along the passageway walls. At its end lay a vast underground chamber, resembling an arena for monstrous battles, unfolding outward in concentric tiers of stepped platforms.

At the very center of the chamber stood a massive, pitch-black circular furnace. Six iron chains connected it: four linked to the four tunnels leading into the palace, one pierced straight through the dome, and one buried deep underground.

With Zhao Xiang’er’s arrival, something within the nearly pitch-black furnace seemed to open its eyes.

A faint crimson flame ignited.

Instantly, the hollow circular bronze furnace was illuminated by the blazing light. The stove was so immense it nearly filled half the underground palace, and once the flames flared, they cast a crimson glow upon Zhao Xiang’er’s features.

The flame’s layers blurred, shifting from deep crimson to pale scarlet as it twisted and transformed. Yet within its flickering light, a pair of eyes seemed hidden—eyes that stared at the girl whose robes were still damp, their gaze holding both absolute heat and icy cold.

A closer look revealed the flame’s center seemed torn open, exposing a vast gash shaped like a sword scar.

The moisture on Zhao Xiang’er’s robes evaporated instantly. Even through the immortal’s seal, merely standing here subjected her to immense pressure.

It was like over a decade ago, when she first stumbled into this place. She had been instantly knocked to her knees by that very force, unable to move, until her mother appeared and carried her away a full day later.

She was no longer the little girl she had been back then, yet that oppressive force felt more real than ever.

Long time no see.

The flame gradually quieted, and an ancient voice, slow as an old donkey grinding a millstone, echoed.

So it’s you.

Where is that woman?

Zhao Xiang’er replied calmly.

Mother has passed away.

The flame instantly surged, filling the furnace walls as if poised to burst through at any moment.

What? Dead? Don’t try to fool me, little girl! How could she possibly be dead? Who could possibly kill her?

Over a decade ago, it had witnessed this little girl stumble into forbidden grounds, then become immobilized by the very pressure it emitted. It had relished watching the delicate, porcelain-like child suffer and die before its eyes—a rare, century-long pleasure. Yet the girl proved far more resilient than it had anticipated, enduring a full day and night.

On the second day, a woman suddenly appeared. As she took the girl away, she casually pointed a finger at it.

Thus, a massive gash tore through the center of its already shattered soul. For decades, it remained impossible to mend, bringing it agony day and night.

The terror of that soul-tearing pain remained vividly etched in its memory, rivaling even the fear it had felt when that immortal had crushed it years ago.

How could such a woman die?

Are you her daughter?

Zhao Xiang’er nodded.

I was raised by my mother from childhood.

The flame emitted a sigh, indistinguishable whether it was a sign of mockery or regret.

But you are too weak. Even if you cultivate for a lifetime, you will never come close to that level.

Zhao Xiang’er didn’t reply, but her brows furrowed in clear disagreement.

The voice added with subtle sarcasm.

I know you think you’re still young, but understand this: on the path of cultivation, age holds little significance most of the time.

Cultivation isn’t like trade. Unless one possesses extraordinary fortune, the peak most people can reach in their lifetime is determined at birth. Many even touch that peak in their teens, mistakenly believing themselves prodigies, only to find themselves unable to advance further for the rest of their lives.

Zhao Xiang’er said.

Since you possess such profound cultivation, might you guess why I’ve come today?

The aged voice chuckled wryly.

Surely not to keep this old fool company?

Zhao Xiang’er stated bluntly.

I’ve come to set you free.

A deathly silence hung over the underground chamber, then erupted into thunderous laughter. A hurricane surged from the bronze cauldron, whipping the maiden’s black hair backward and making her dark gown flutter wildly as if filled with wind.

Pressing her thin lips together, she walked backward with hands clasped behind her back, like a boat struggling against the current on a stormy lake, advancing step by step with visible effort.

After a long while, the tempest gradually subsided. The light-and-shadow-dappled underground palace returned to stillness, yet the girl’s body, taut as a bowstring, showed no sign of relaxation. Her gaze remained fixed ahead, showing no intention of retreat.

The voice carried an air of authority tinged with peculiarity.

Do you know who I am?

Zhao Xiang’er replied.

Five hundred years ago, a spirit fox devoured the Refining Heaven Pearl that had fallen from the Hidden Kingdom into the mortal world. It fled to the karst mountains, leapt through the earth’s flames, and vanished. It remained hidden for over a decade, then gave birth to an eight-tailed offspring. Its fur blazed like flames, capable of incinerating all things. It shattered the Purple Court Realm and advanced directly into the Five Paths. It reigned supreme for a time, but then the great calamity of cosmic upheaval struck. Ultimately, it was suppressed by the great divine general ‘Yuan Jun’ of the Hidden Kingdom and sealed away in the Western Kingdom. A hundred years ago, you narrowly escaped and fled to the Southern Province. There, immortals pursued you relentlessly, shattering your physical form. They built an imperial city and established four national treasures to seal you away at the bottom of the underground palace.

As the maiden spoke, the fiery mass gradually calmed. Between shattering and coalescing, the flames subtly gathered into the form of an eight-tailed celestial fox. Its narrow eyes fixed upon Zhao Xiang’er, their depths seeming to hold ghostly flames ignited from the depths of hell.

After the girl finished, the centuries-old fire fox spoke slowly.

I find myself increasingly perplexed. Are you truly ignorant of your own limitations, or do you have some other support?

The girl did not answer directly, but countered.

Do you know who I am?

The old fox narrowed its eyes.

Who are you?

The girl smiled faintly.

My name is Zhao Xiang’er.

Autumn winds rustled across the lake, sending ripples spreading in concentric circles across Qifeng Lake.

Ning Xiaoling tilted her face upward, shielding her forehead with her hand.

Oh dear, it’s raining again.

Ning Changjiu remarked.

Autumn rains are unpredictable… Let’s head back soon. Don’t catch a chill.

Ning Xiaoling nodded.

Ning Changjiu lifted his sleeve to shield her head, and the young girl snuggled closer to him.

From the tower atop the city wall, a vermilion sparrow surveyed the ancient city below. While preening its wings, its eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings. Spotting the youth and maiden in Taoist robes by the lake, it suddenly spoke in a human voice.

Ugh, this is so annoying! Why are they all such tough nuts to crack? If I really stir up trouble looking like this, I’ll probably end up stripped bare.

And today, another woman who doesn’t know her limits shows up. If she’s really from the Heavenly Sect…

Anyway, His Highness only tasked us with causing trouble… Just stir things up a bit and we can leave, right?

If I’d known back then that this godforsaken place harbored such monsters, they could’ve cracked their skulls open trying to get me here—I still wouldn’t have come to cause trouble.

The Vermilion Sparrow hopped restlessly along the tower’s ridge, growing increasingly irritable.

Suddenly, a bell tolled behind it, heralding a fresh downpour.

That single sound struck the Crimson Sparrow like a death knell, freezing its entire body.

Forget it. I’m dead either way… If I can escape this time, I’ll be free at last.

Your Highness… keep your promise! Imperial City, this immortal lord has returned!

As the vermilion sparrow flapped its wings, its form grew larger and larger. Suddenly reversing course from the city wall, it crashed into the tower. With a thunderous roar, the tower shattered. The now colossal vermilion beast spread its immense wingspan. As spiritual energy surged, a crack tore across the city wall.

Chaos erupted throughout the imperial city.

Soon, nearly everyone within the palace grounds witnessed the blood-red colossus perched atop the walls. Some elders recalled that ancient tale, their voices rising in terrified shrieks.

Bloodfeather Lord! It truly is the Bloodfeather Lord! Has the palace’s great barrier been activated?

It’s too late…

Quickly, summon the Witchmaster!