Chen Huangpi was thirteen by traditional reckoning, over thirty thousand by actual count.
He had been cultivating for barely half a month.
Powerful in strength, decisive in battle.
A prodigy among the young, by any asure.
And yet — afraid of caterpillars.
Inside a side hall of the Pure Immortal Temple.
Chen Huangpi lay in bed, speaking sheepishly to the purple-robed old Daoist sitting at his bedside. "First Master, I'm already this old, but I'm still scared of caterpillars like so little kid. You absolutely cannot tell anyone. I'd be mortified."
"Not mortifying at all. Not at all."
The purple-robed old Daoist chuckled. "Eighteen is adulthood. You're only thirteen — still a child. There are people far older than you who still wet the bed."
"Is that really true?"
Chen Huangpi was skeptical.
He'd never wet the bed, not once in his life. If there were people older than him who still did.
Wouldn't that be even more embarrassing than being afraid of caterpillars?
The purple-robed old Daoist glanced at the Brass Oil Lamp hanging on the wall.
The lamp offered an awkward grin. "Chen Huangpi, the Guanzhu is right. I used to wet the bed all the ti — didn't stop until I was over two hundred years old."
"Seriously?"
"Of course. Why else do you think the Guanzhu hung on the wall?"
"All right. I believe you."
Chen Huangpi bead, then couldn't help but yawn.
Ever since entering the God-Burying Mound, he hadn't rested at all.
Now, lying in bed, drowsiness ca naturally.
"First Master, I'm going to sleep now."
With that, Chen Huangpi was out cold the mont his head hit the pillow.
Before long, he'd kicked his blanket off.
The Brass Oil Lamp noticed and instinctively moved to tuck him back in — but froze as a sudden chill prickled the air.
It looked at the Guanzhu.
The purple robe had, at so unknown mont, shifted to cyan.
"Shh..."
The cyan-robed old Daoist fixed the Brass Oil Lamp with a frigid stare and raised a finger to his lips.
The lamp's mouth clamped shut at once.
The purple-robed First Guanzhu might be mad, but he could still be reasoned with.
The white-robed Second Guanzhu was beyond reason — savagely brutal.
But neither was as terrifying as the cyan-robed Third Guanzhu.
Because the Third didn't just go mad — he also liked to reason.
The catch was that he only reasoned with Chen Huangpi.
Everyone else wasn't even given the chance to hear his logic.
The cyan-robed old Daoist looked down at Chen Huangpi, and a flicker of tenderness passed through his clouded eyes.
He tucked the kicked-off blanket snugly around the boy.
Then the cyan-robed old Daoist unwound the bandages from Chen Huangpi's eyes.
Next — as the Brass Oil Lamp watched in horror — he extended two bony fingers and pressed them toward Chen Huangpi's eyes.
And then...
He drew out two thin, black threads from the boy's eyes.
The threads were writhing.
Like living worms.
The next instant.
The two black threads crumbled to ash.
The Brass Oil Lamp could hold back no longer. It whispered, "Guanzhu, how did those things get into Chen Huangpi's eyes?"
"It's the sun — targeting Huangpi."
The cyan-robed old Daoist seethed through clenched teeth. "Deserves death! Deserves death!"
"Guanzhu," the Brass Oil Lamp said, "if that's the case, doesn't it an Chen Huangpi can never leave the Hundred Thousand Mountains?"
"He can."
The cyan-robed old Daoist's eyes blazed with killing intent. "The Hundred Thousand Mountains are Huangpi's ho — his refuge from the storm. Not a cage. Under all of heaven, he goes wherever he pleases. Who would dare stop him? Who could?"
"This poor Daoist is not the First or the Second."
"If everything were left up to destiny, then by destiny's decree, Huangpi was a stillborn."
"Destiny can go to hell!"
"They all deserve death! Every last one!"
The cyan-robed old Daoist's expression was deranged, his killing intent soaring to the heavens — yet his voice remained barely audible, afraid of waking Chen Huangpi.
He bowed his head with a savage grin. "After the Heaven and Earth Mutation, the entire world set itself against Huangpi. If this poor Daoist won't kill Huangpi, then this poor Daoist will simply kill the world."
"Heaven deserves death! Earth deserves death!"
"Whoever bullies Huangpi — this poor Daoist will kill them."
The cyan-robed old Daoist sneered. "That sun blinded Huangpi's eyes. Even without this poor Daoist, the boy would eventually heal on his own. But blinding him was blinding him. This poor Daoist doesn't care about logic — that sun must go blind too."
"Huang Er, this poor Daoist has a task for you."
"Guanzhu, your command is my duty!"
The Brass Oil Lamp answered with fervor. "If it's sothing this Huang Er can do, then it will absolutely be done."
"Relax. You can definitely do it."
The cyan-robed old Daoist grinned wickedly. "Huangpi will most likely head into the Old Temple tomorrow to visit the Second. When he does, take him on a different path. Along that path hangs one of this poor Daoist's robes."
"Have Huangpi take it with him."
"And after he takes it?"
"Yes — after he takes it, then what?"
The cyan-robed old Daoist's expression instantly beca a blank. He couldn't rember what was supposed to happen next.
For a long, awkward mont, the Brass Oil Lamp and the cyan-robed old Daoist simply stared at each other.
"Huang Er, your lamp is too bright. It'll keep Huangpi from sleeping well. Dimr. Make it dimr."
"Yes, Guanzhu."
The Brass Oil Lamp hurriedly dimd its glow.
Then it found the cyan-robed old Daoist's face suddenly re inches from its own — and felt bony fingers close around its throat.
"The sun! Deserves death!!"
"Ah — Guanzhu, it's ! Huang Er!"
...
Past the midnight hour, the night deepened to ink.
Chen Huangpi had a nightmare.
Perhaps Song Tiangang's caterpillar form had truly shaken him.
He dread of countless caterpillars.
And in the dream, he returned to the egg.
Only this ti, the egg he dread of seed far older than any he had dread of before.
Because the shell was soft.
Thin as a cicada's wing.
Crunch, crunch, crunch...
From beyond the shell ca the endless sound of insects gnawing.
Chen Huangpi peered through the shell and saw innurable caterpillars outside.
Every one of them bore Song Tiangang's head.
The Song Tiangangs ate and laughed triumphantly: "Chen Huangpi — without this eggshell, what will you kill us with?"
More Song Tiangangs snarled viciously, "Once we eat through your shell, we'll eat you next."
"You cracked my skull open with a pickaxe." "So we'll return the favor — gnaw through your fontanel!"
"No, please, no..."
Chen Huangpi shivered violently, face deathly pale. "My fontanel is very hard. Even my master can't bite through it — you'll break your teeth. Don't eat . Please don't eat ."
"At your age, and 'Master' this, 'Master' that."
"If you're still like this when you grow up, no woman will ever want you. Better to just beco a caterpillar."
"Being a worm isn't so bad. Better than being a waste."
"No — I won't beco a worm."
Chen Huangpi's terror reached its peak. His entire being trembled — helpless, pitiful. "Don't push . Don't push ."
"And if we do?"
"We're worms. We are your natural enemy — your inner demon."
"AHHH! I'll kill you all!"
Chen Huangpi finally snapped. He let out an enraged howl.
He was afraid of worms, yes.
But he was even more afraid of being eaten by them.
"Magic Tree!!"
Chen Huangpi roared, summoning the Magic Tree from within his Kidney Temple.
Yet nothing answered.
"Divine sword, aid !"
The Void-Piercing Sword gave no response either.
"Pickaxe, co!"
The crane-beak pickaxe was nothing more than an imnsely hard tool — devoid of any spiritual nature. It would never appear from thin air.
The worms taunted him: "You have no Magic Tree. No sword. No pickaxe. You don't even have a human form. What will you kill us with?"
Hearing this.
Chen Huangpi finally noticed — inside the egg, he truly had no human form.
Not only that.
He wasn't even egg fluid.
He was a wisp of qi.
Golden and black, intertwined.
"Heaven wants dead."
Chen Huangpi thrashed desperately inside the egg, and as he moved, the egg moved with him.
The Song Tiangangs scread, "Stop moving! Let us eat you!"
"Like hell I will!"
Chen Huangpi realized he could control his own egg. No chance he was staying.
So he barreled headlong in one direction.
He had no idea where he was.
But he could sense that this place had no up or down, no left or right, no heaven or earth.
His speed was extraordinary.
And he flew in spiraling rotations. The worms couldn't keep up — one by one, they were thrown off.
Gradually...
Through the eggshell, Chen Huangpi spotted a beam of light.
"I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming."
"That light must be the way out of the dream. If I reach it, I'll wake up."
Without a mont's hesitation, he plunged toward the light.
Whoosh...
Chen Huangpi dove into the light.
And then he saw sothing even more terrifying.
He saw an enormous Outline.
So vast it had no edges. The instant he looked away, every mory of it vanished from his mind.
Unspeakable. Indescribable.
So he looked again.
This ti, he saw the Outline looming over an entire world. Within that Outline were colossal eyes — wide open, wanton, brimming with malice as they stared down at the world below.
No...
To be precise, they were staring at him.
Because Chen Huangpi had been flying upward. He had passed through the light and arrived at the very edge of the world — and there he t the Outline face to face.
The Outline shuddered, and countless worms ca flooding out.
Those worms spotted Chen Huangpi and shrieked with excitent, swarming toward him.
The next instant.
The eggshell was bitten open.
One after another, worms wriggled inside.
"These worms have sharper teeth than Song Tiangang's."
Chen Huangpi flew desperately back toward the light.
The worms chased him inside the egg, hell-bent on devouring the intertwined golden-black qi that was his essence.
Pain, pain, pain!
Chen Huangpi failed to dodge and was bitten.
The agony drove him to the brink of madness.
The golden-black qi convulsed violently, and characters resembling flowers, birds, fish, and insects floated up from within it.
"Halt!"
A flash of inspiration — Chen Huangpi spoke a single word.
Every worm froze in place.
But the one that had bitten him abruptly transford into a pale cyan moth.
On the moth's back was a single eye.
It looked like the Eye of Azure Heaven.
The cyan moth charged at Chen Huangpi without the slightest fear, tearing into him.
The rest of the worms followed.
Chen Huangpi was ravaged.
Even the golden-black qi grew thin and faint.
And right then.
Chen Huangpi plumted into a world — a world brimming with spiritual qi.
The mont he appeared, spiritual qi rushed in through the gaps the worms had chewed open and rged with the golden-black qi. Only then did Chen Huangpi feel a surge of renewed vitality. He kept running, kept fleeing.
Then, suddenly, he saw scores of n and won clad in feathered garnts, brandishing glowing treasures, racing toward him.
Their expressions were feverish. Their eyes, as they gazed upon him, blazed with greed.
Chen Huangpi was terrified.
He knew that if these people caught him, they would likely devour him just as the worms had tried to.
But then —
Out of nowhere, Chen Huangpi caught sight of a familiar figure.
Tall and gaunt, draped in a dark cyan robe, sitting by a small stream with a fishing rod in hand.
"Master, save !!!"
Chen Huangpi flew toward him in a frenzy.
But he was nothing more than a wisp of golden-black qi — how could he speak?
And yet, Master seed to hear him all the sa. He looked up and smiled. "Don't be afraid. If the sky falls, your master will hold it up. Worms or anything else — your master will carve a path to the heavens for you!"
Reviews
All reviews (0)