1727 Wu Lin's Lair

Transmit these orders: Command the Master of Queying Palace to make a trip to Thousand Vines Immortal Gorge, unearth the teleportation array beneath the Verdant Peak, and select another mountain peak to establish a secret altar. Recall our men and divide them into two routes: one to secretly investigate the route from Tianlan City to Thousand Vines Immortal Gorge, and the other to secretly investigate the route from Tianlan City to Langhai Plain. If this person is spotted, do not alert the enemy, but report back swiftly.

Understood, Subordinate obeys!

Luo Yu worriedly asked: It has already been three days... Could he have already come to investigate?

Bai Wuhuo felt somewhat gloomy: It is possible. However, if he truly just woke up, his injuries definitely have not fully healed yet, otherwise he wouldn't have gone to buy medicinal pills. That bastard is not easily injured!

...

The black dragon awakened from its deep slumber, stirring slightly, and instantly felt a profound weakness throughout its body.

Submerged memories were like stagnant water, startled by this slight movement, and surged forth like roaring billows: the azure lake, the verdant island, the silver blade, the red cat, the white light, the agony of a severed arm, the torment of a blinded eye, life-claiming fangs, and the gut-piercing sharp beak... Wulin’s dragon eyes snapped open, shooting out a gaze of bone-deep resentment... Ascend to the azure heavens or descend to the yellow springs, even the vastness of time and space must eventually end... How could mere words express the heart-devouring, monstrous blood feud within his chest?

The black dragon let out a furious, prolonged howl, its massive tail sweeping wildly and causing the cave where it sheltered to rock precariously, the crisp, relentless cracking of solid rock echoing endlessly... A moment later, a certain great mountain on the northern border of the Divine East Nation collapsed with a deafening roar. Amidst rolling yellow smoke, a one-eyed black dragon with broken scales and severed claws burst forth; its expression was feral and utterly frenzied, and it devoured cultivators who were treasure-hunting nearby clean to the last bone.

Having swallowed several people, Wulin felt much more comfortable in both his belly and his heart; only then did he carefully inspect the injuries on his body: his right front claw and one eye had missed the optimal window for treatment and were now permanently crippled; fortunately, before losing consciousness, he had managed to reconnect his intestines, which had already healed as good as new; the lacerated areas of his flesh had all regrown, but because he had forcibly used the Reverse Soul Blood Burning Escape Technique, he had almost entirely burned away his vital essence and nearly perished as a result. His overly depleted body recovered at an extremely sluggish pace during his slumber, and his scales remained ragged and incomplete.

This Reverse Soul Blood Burning Escape Technique was an immensely formidable forbidden art for fleeing, possessing a speed so terrifying that even a formidable enemy two tiers higher than the caster would find it difficult to capture them. However, the price for executing this art was equally steep; if one accidentally burned away all their vital essence, it would lead to the withered exhaustion of their meridians, rendering the person utterly crippled. When Wulin had been hunted down by the Taowu for eight years, he had relied heavily on this technique to escape, and the medicinal pills used to recuperate his vital essence and meridians had long since been entirely depleted.

The scarcity of vital essence directly impaired his regenerative functions, preventing him from shedding his skin and renewing his scales, causing his injuries to linger stubbornly. Without hesitation, Wulin immediately headed to the nearest city of Tianlan and purchased a pile of medicinal pills.

After swallowing the pills, Wulin’s thoughts turned once more to those little beasts. Although his heart burned with a hatred that dripped blood, he also knew clearly that it was not yet time to go seek revenge—that half-demon brat was being cared for and had undoubtedly long since recovered; although his cultivation was lacking, that treasured saber was exceedingly powerful, not to mention that he had an intoxicating fox and a phoenix by his side; and although one cat had died, the opposing side's combat prowess had only grown stronger.

Since he had already awakened, he might as well spend some time healing his body first. Having been away from his nest for many years without returning, it was also time to go back and take a look.

Wulin conjured a dark cloud and sped straight toward the west.

There was a barren region in the western part of the Divine East Nation. This place was close to the continental barrier, and back when the continent of Navaram had not yet sunk, it had been a boundless expanse of wild oceanic coral reefs.

Here, not a blade of grass grew and human footprints were extremely rare. After the continent sank, the conditions here became even harsher: once the enormous barrier enveloped the area, the winds sweeping across the continent found nowhere else to go, so they were forced to crash against the barrier and loop back, churning up towering, unending waves of giant billows.

Ten thousand years later, the wild sea reefs gradually disintegrated under the erosion of the currents, their rough rock formations mottled like scales, and the cleaved reef crevices shaped like labyrinths. Above the water were bizarre and grotesque stones, while beneath the water were treacherous, interconnected caverns. The moment one approached this desolate sea, one could hear overlapping, ghostly wailing sounds, like weeping and crying, making one's hair stand on end.

Wulin leisurely wove his way through the cluster of reefs.

These reefs were gloomy and terrifying, shaped like curved sabers: their sharp rock summits curved slightly toward the interior of the mainland, as if countless ferocious giant claws were sprouting from the depths of the earth, or like inverted rows of monstrous beast fangs; the low reefs on the water's surface lurked in the shadows, covered in round hollows carved out by the currents, densely packed and eerily bizarre, looking at a glance like piles of skulls. Clearly a place overflowing with spiritual energy, it nonetheless made one feel a chilling, ice-cold dread seep into the marrow of their spine.

This bizarre stone reef cluster was none other than Wulin’s old lair: the Tooth-Ridge Abyss.

To ordinary cultivators, the Tooth-Ridge Abyss was an unadulterated ghost of a place, but Wulin himself loved it dearly: close to the open sea, beautiful scenery, with both water and caves, and exceptionally majestic reefs! There were no flowery, ghostly things to attract people searching for treasures, keeping it quiet and secluded—where else on the present continent could one find such a satisfying, blessed land? Even the "Ul beard Sea" belonging to that immortal old fogey eight hundred miles away was merely an inland sea basin, hmph, what was there for it to be smug about?

Wulin made his way complacently to an inconspicuous reef and plunged straight down into the seawater.

The black dragon passed through one intricate underwater cave after another, finally emerging from a subterranean pool. Beside the pool stood a towering karst cave, the upper half of the cave entrance embedded with golden roof tiles and scaly pillars, hanging with a plaque that read "Hidden Abyss Dragon Court"—it was, in truth, an underwater paradise.

The moment Wulin manifested, two Qi-condensation minor spirits below the Foundation Establishment stage scurried out from the cave: one had slender limbs, a pointed head, and numerous whiskers; the other had hands like pincers and knees pointing outward to the sides, standing with pigeon-toed stance resembling wooden stakes for tethering horses, looking utterly comical.

Mas... Master has returned to the estate! the pointed-headed spirit hopped and shrieked.

Master has been away for many years, his demeanor rem—rem—huh?! The pincer-handed spirit possessed somewhat defective eyesight; not only was it pigeon-toed, but it also had cross-eyes.

Hearing this, Wulin’s expression turned fierce, and with a flick of his claw, he slapped the pincer-handed spirit against the cave wall, sticking it there like a wall mural: You unobservant, foolish wretch!

The pointed-headed spirit wore a dazed expression, turned its head to look at its companion stuck to the wall, and suddenly snapped to its senses, instantly arching its back and shrinking to the side, desperately trying to minimize its presence.

Wulin glared at it with murderous intent, transformed into human form, and stormed into the estate in a fury.

There were many minor spirits within this cave, their cultivation bases mostly at the Qi-condensation and Foundation Establishment stages. Some of them had only recently taken human form, and although this was their first time seeing their master, they had long since heard legendary tales of their master's terrifying reputation. Seeing Wulin in this state now, they were all so frightened that they did not even dare to breathe loudly: the master was in a bad mood, and whoever crossed his path died!

Wulin walked into a courtyard and sat down, whereupon a minor fish-tailed spirit at the first layer of Qi-condensation tremblingly approached holding a tea tray: it wasn't that the spirit was bold, but it truly had no choice! Although it heard that serving tea might result in being beaten to death by the master, failing to come forward to serve tea would definitely result in being beaten to death by the person whose turn it was to serve tea!

Closing its eyes, it placed the tea tray on the table, only to suddenly hear the master speak. But what had the master said... it was too nervous and didn't catch it clearly...

Master, spare my life! Master, spare my life! Panicked out of its wits, the fish-tailed spirit dropped to its knees on the ground and began kowtowing for its life.

Wulin’s complexion was abysmal to the extreme, and with a single palm strike, he immediately smashed it into a pulp.

The minor spirits hiding in the shadows all shuddered in unison: as expected, another one dead; surviving smoothly to Foundation Establishment was truly not easy! He just wondered if he had the good fortune to live long enough to reach Golden Core...

How could Wulin not know what these fools were thinking? Frantic with anger, he roared: All of you, get out here!

The minor spirits, who had been gloating and celebrating their narrow escape, were dumbfounded. One by one, they scrambled out from the shadows in a chaotic tumble, darting swiftly to Wulin's feet to form a kneeling row: their movements were practiced and orderly, the timing of their knees hitting the ground executed with absolute precision, utilizing the momentum of their slide to glide smoothly into their target positions—seamless, flawless, and completed in a single breath.

Wulin glared with his single blood-shot eye, sweeping his gaze back and forth over them multiple times. His hands clenched and unclenched repeatedly, and it took him half a day to suppress the killing intent surging in his heart: if he killed any more, there wouldn't be anyone left in the estate...

He sat back down in his chair, let out a deep breath, and said through clenched teeth: Go fetch some black pearls, jades, and golden threads.

The minor spirits felt as if they had received a grand pardon and retreated swiftly: the fate of that fish spirit just now was a prime example; if they dawdled when fetching things... they had better move quickly...

...

Wulin stood before a mirror, holding an exquisite half-face mask and comparing it against his face: the main body was refined from his own scales, adorned with gemstones along its surface and edged with golden threads... Wearing it added an even greater sense of mystery and dash... Not bad, Huan Xi ought to like it too!

Having put on the mask and changed his clothes, Wulin stepped out of the courtyard; turning left and right, he arrived before the entrance of a secluded, nameless courtyard.

This courtyard was situated within a vast cavern hall. The cavern hall was extremely sparse: devoid of flowers, plants, or bizarre stones, featuring only a single ancient banyan tree in the center that required five people to encircle. The entire floor of the cavern hall was paved with smooth, flat bluestone tiles, making it look like a plaza.

Beneath the banyan tree sat a zither desk, upon which rested a Phoenix Parasol zither. The courtyard itself also stood beneath the tree as a single-story refined dwelling, without perimeter walls, allowing its appearance to be seen clearly at a glance: striped partitions made of fine spirit-wood strips replaced walls, and through the gaps of the wooden strips a foot wide, one could clearly see the hanging azure silk curtains and pearl lampstands inside. Directly facing the entrance of the cavern hall stood an arched doorway, over which azure silk curtains also hung. The entire structure relied solely upon nine pillars to support the eaves, comprising no more than six rooms in total.

Cradled by the ancient banyan tree, this courtyard stood solitary and isolated in the center of the cavern hall; surrounded by open space and profound stillness, it looked precisely like a cage.

Wulin glanced around, lightened his footsteps, and walked straight into the room.

Deep wooden lattices, silent pearl light.

Azure silk curtains hung quietly all around, and in the center of the spacious inner hall lay a plain brocade rug, upon which rested a low desk and two brocade cushions. Aside from these, there were no other furnishings whatsoever.

A faint smile touched the corner of Wulin’s mouth. He parted the silk curtain and squinted as he sized up the delicate little figure kneeling before the desk: white robes like snow, dark hair like a waterfall, wrists fairer than frost and snow, and a countenance that put the bright moon to shame... It was an indescribably pure, beautiful, and slender youth.

The youth appeared to be only fifteen or sixteen years of age, still carrying the delicate, tender innocence of youth. Utterly unaware of anyone behind him, he was leaning over the desk, concentrating intently on sketching a portrait.

Wulin crept forward silently and peeked over to look: the person on the painting was none other than himself—with pale complexion and a chilling, terrifying gaze... Behind him stood another petite figure, indistinctly lowering its head, rendered in pale colors like smoke and fog so that it remained blurred and unclear.

Tsk! Wulin scoffed aloud, startling the youth. Subconsciously, the youth raised his brush and dodged, then turned his head to look, instantly freezing in utter shock.

Wulin let out a cold laugh, bent down, and pinched the youth’s slender chin, applying a slight bit of pressure: In Xi'er's heart, I have always appeared thus... Could Xi'er hate me so intensely?