"Why do the treasure hunters from Xinxiang always come not just to seek treasure—but to kill and silence?"
The porcelain doll that Chen Shi had become darted through the mountains, agile and swift, fleeing the ghost-god domain.
The villagers of Huangpo Village never cared for any so-called True King's Tomb. Chen Shi cared even less about the treasure buried there. If those people came only to seek treasure, without harboring murderous intent, he might've even been willing to guide them personally to the real tomb.
But every group that came… always wanted him dead.
He leapt through dense forest, swam across rivers, and soon arrived at another strange place.
Before him lay a road paved with bluestone and winding stone steps. Towering pine and cypress trees lined either side, bark twisted and rugged, branches coiling like ancient dragons. And before each tree stood giant statues of stone men and stone beasts—two or three zhang tall—silent and solemn.
This was the True King's Tomb.
The very tomb the purple-robed woman and her group had searched for in vain.
It was only two or three li from the kiln, yet due to the bizarre terrain of these mountains, without a guide, no one could easily find it.
But for Chen Shi, it was familiar ground. This was Qianyang Mountain. He and his grandfather had entered its depths countless times. He dared not claim to know every blade of grass, but every tree—he knew exactly where it stood.
He leapt from a stone and landed on a rocky outcrop. The sound of ceramic clinking against stone rang out sharply.
Startled, he lifted his foot to inspect it—relieved to see no cracks or breaks. Being porcelain now, he was terribly fragile. One misstep, and he could shatter into dust.
He continued along the burial path, and as he moved forward, the trees and statues around him began to tremble!
Branches swayed, twisting like serpents and dragons, grotesque and massive.
The stone statues began to shed layers of dust. Their surfaces cracked—and from within, blood and flesh seemed to grow. The towering guardian beasts looked as if they were awakening, emitting an increasingly violent aura!
Chen Shi pressed forward, enduring the rising pressure. His tiny body began to change—growing taller, larger, and gradually returning to flesh and blood.
This tomb was enveloped by an even more powerful ghost-god domain.
One strong enough to suppress the kiln's domain, canceling its effects on him. The porcelain body faded, his human form restored.
The ground twisted and warped as if the mountains themselves were heaving like waves. Gigantic stone beasts pulled their claws from the bedrock, emanating world-shaking power.
Chen Shi clenched his jaw and kept walking. Though his porcelain curse had lifted, the pressure of this new domain was immense.
Ahead, a stone stele came into view. Its golden script gleamed brilliantly, radiant and mysterious. The characters were hard to decipher but carried a divine energy.
As he tried to read, Chen Shi took out the last piece of spiritual jerky he'd taken from the purple-robed girl, Zhao Er, and stuffed it into his mouth.
The jerky flooded his body with spiritual power, stirring his inner qi and forming a miniature divine shrine at the back of his skull.
Energy surged through him. Rejuvenated, he marched on.
As he read more of the inscription, suddenly a voice rang out with a laugh, "Little one, take one more step, and this ghost-god domain will fully awaken. Not even your grandfather could save you then. Greed leads to ruin. Go back."
The speaker was no human.
It was the nearest guardian beast—a creature with a man's body and a ram's horns. The horns were tall and straight, and its nose was so large it covered half its face. It wore a false smile, but its eyes gleamed with malice, sending chills down the spine.
"I shared some goodwill with your grandfather. I'd rather you not die here."
While the ram-horned creature spoke calmly, the other guardian beasts roared, their blood-qi rising like crimson clouds, foul and suffocating—as if they might tear Chen Shi apart at any moment.
"Besides…" the horned one added gently, "Night is falling. You won't be able to leave after dark."
Chen Shi bowed politely and said in his crisp voice, "Thank you, Uncle Ram-Horns."
The horned beast smiled and waved. "Go on then, hurry along."
Chen Shi gave one last reluctant glance to the stele, then turned and left, dragging his feet.
As he exited the ghost-god domain, the power of the jerky dissipated. The shrine behind his head crumbled into nothing.
Chen Shi sighed, face dim.
He didn't want to be useless.
He longed to study, to cultivate, to attend the county and provincial exams like the other children. To become a scholar. To make his grandfather proud—not be someone his grandfather would need to care for his whole life.
"It's getting dark…"
Chen Shi pulled himself together and looked to the sky—his face changed. He quickened his pace.
In the heavens, two suns hung side by side, blazing as ever. But strangely, they were beginning to elongate… becoming narrow, like eyelids slowly closing.
If one looked closely enough, they would see a colossal face behind the suns, hovering in space. The suns were its eyes.
Now, those divine eyes were slowly shutting, fiery light streaming from beneath the lids and pouring into the atmosphere, forming a vast sea of flame eighty li above the earth, burning like a crimson dusk.
And behind that face… faintly visible… sat an immense figure in cosmic meditation.
The true god of Xiniu New Continent.
He sat beyond the sky, unfathomable and eternal. When his eyes opened, it was day. When he closed them, night fell—and the vertical eye at his brow would open, casting eerie moonlight upon the world.
When this happened, strange beings awakened beneath the moon. The night became dangerous.
Anyone outside would have to seek shelter—or risk death.
The sky turned a deeper red. The sun was setting.
Back at the True King's Tomb, the horned guardian beast squinted up at the sky, thoughtful.
"Brother, why did you let that human child go?" growled a massive beast nearby.
It stood over two zhang tall, wreathed in flame, lion-shaped with a single horn and wings on its back—fierce and imposing.
Other guardian beasts roared in agreement, voices thundering with discontent.
The horned beast waited for them to quiet before sneering, "You think I didn't want to crush him? That little brat stirs up trouble and always runs here, hiding under the True King's shadow to escape his doom. In the old days, he'd be dead a thousand times over."
"But he has… a formidable grandfather."
It sighed and continued, "You all remember him. The man who broke into the True King's Tomb years ago. We trapped him for nine days and nine nights—and still he escaped, taking with him a secret scripture from the tomb."
The others fell silent.
"He stole the Water-Fire Refinement Technique. A method to cultivate into a 'Corpse-Transcendent Immortal.' I still don't know why he needed it."
Someone muttered, "He's old now, probably dying."
The horned beast looked in the direction Chen Shi had gone. "Maybe he's dead already. The last time I saw him from afar, he didn't look like a living man. Perhaps… he wants to become a corpse-immortal."
Another guardian whispered, "That child… he didn't smell human."
Before it could finish, a strange power swept through them. One by one, the beasts froze—turning back into lifeless stone.
Meanwhile, Chen Shi sprinted out of the mountains, racing for Huangpo Village.
The twin suns had nearly vanished. The divine god above had closed his eyes. The heavenly fire dimmed.
A silvery moonlight began to shine—from the god's brow.
As it spilled over the land, mysterious forces awakened across Xiniu New Continent. Doors slammed shut. Peachwood talismans were hung. The forests groaned with strange wailing sounds, like the cries of ghosts.
Within the trees, an enormous head—shriveled like a deflated balloon—slowly rose, swelling as if inflating. Its twisted features warped under the moonlight as it stared directly at Chen Shi.
It grinned grotesquely, floating toward the boy.
Grandfather called such beings xie—unclean spirits.
Not all xie had giant heads, but all emerged at night, wandering until dawn.
Encounter one… and you die.
With death looming, Chen Shi consumed his last piece of spiritual jerky, activating his technique.
Starlight poured down from the sky, gathering at the back of his head to form a tiny divine shrine.
Power surged, and he sprinted faster—Huangpo Village drawing ever closer.
The technique he used was not from the local private school.
That school taught the "Heavenly Heart Righteous Qi Method," but after Chen Shi's god-fetus was stolen, he discovered that without it, any qi he cultivated was rootless—like a tree without soil—quickly dissipating.
Instead, the technique he now used came from the True King's Tomb: the "Three Lights Righteous Qi."
The Three Lights referred to the light of the sun, moon, and stars.
Harness the light of day, moon, and stars to cultivate inner righteousness—that's what the stele had said.
Among them, sunlight and moonlight were most potent, while starlight was faintest.
But Chen Shi could only refine starlight. Sun and moonlight still eluded him.
He had visited the tomb many times—both to undo the kiln's ghost domain and to fully master the Three Lights Righteous Qi.
He hadn't succeeded this time either… but he had memorized most of the technique. Enough to use it properly!
"The tomb's method is leagues beyond the school's. It's not even close!"
With a burst of star-forged qi, he leapt forward more than ten feet in one step. Huangpo Village came into view.
It held some two hundred households. At its center stood an ancient tree, towering like a mountain, lush and vast.
The villagers had built their homes around it in five concentric rings, layer by layer.
Under the moonlight, the tree's branches swayed like serpents, absorbing the light—strangely seductive.
At the village gate stood a tall figure, face cloaked in shadow—waiting for him.
"Grandpa!"
Joy surged in Chen Shi's heart. He sprinted even faster. But as he reached the old man, a sudden chill swept over him.
The jerky's power ran out. The divine shrine behind his head flickered and shattered. Not even the Three Lights Righteous Qi could hold it together.
His strength vanished.
Even the tomb's technique… couldn't let him cultivate like a normal person.
"It's time to go home and take your medicine," said the old man, gazing at the floating giant head.
"Got it."
Chen Shi looked up, hoping to see his grandfather's face. But the moonlight cast shadows across it. He couldn't see clearly.
In fact, it had been days since he'd seen his grandfather's face clearly.
Strangely… the old man smelled a little foul today. Not the usual rot—but something different. Like spoiled meat… but not quite.
He tried to trace the scent, but his grandfather's medicinal aroma masked it.
As they walked into the village, households pulled their children off the streets and shut their doors tight.
Chen Shi glanced at the windows. Inside, shadows flickered behind paper screens. Curious eyes peeked out, watching them in secret.
"Good men die young… and the plague's back again," someone whispered in the dark.
"Have they noticed something's wrong with Grandpa too?"
Chen Shi's heart trembled.
Will they hurt Grandpa?