Emperor of the Mysterious Heavens

Chapter 6: One word ‘town’

Descending the mountain, Yan Chuan turned to Huo Guang. "Prepare the troops. Once everything is ready, meet me at the bamboo house."

"Yes, my lord!" Huo Guang responded before leaving to fulfill the command.

With twenty Silver-armored soldiers guarding him, Yan Chuan walked back to the bamboo house, followed by Liu Jin. Once inside, Yan Chuan spoke.

"Do we still have all the brushes here?" Yan Chuan asked.

Liu Jin nodded respectfully. "Yes, my lord. Although you rarely use them, they are all here."

"Good. Leave now. No one is to enter without my permission," Yan Chuan ordered firmly.

"Understood!" Liu Jin replied, his curiosity piqued as he exited and sealed the door from the outside.

Now alone, Yan Chuan surveyed the brushes. Fifty-four in total, yet most were too weak. Earlier, he'd used one to write just two characters, only for it to shatter under the force of the world's energy.

With a sweep of his hand, Yan Chuan discarded the inferior brushes. Only three remained—delicately carved with jade dragons, their purple handles gleaming.

He laid a fresh sheet of rice paper on the desk and, after a moment of quiet focus, picked up one of the jade brushes. He paused, gathering his thoughts. Then, in a burst of clarity, his eyes narrowed with determination.

Dipping the brush in ink, Yan Chuan began writing on the paper.

A sudden gust swirled inside the room, and faint mist formed around him. With each stroke, a golden light seemed to pulse from the brush, illuminating the space. The word 镇 (Suppress) took shape, glowing more brightly with every stroke until it shone like molten gold.

As the last stroke settled, the winds and mist were drawn into the character, vanishing into it. A deep, resounding hum echoed from the word, which now radiated with brilliance. From the character emerged a golden pagoda, towering in its might.

Yan Chuan smiled in satisfaction. His mastery had reached the point where his words could manifest physical forms—this was the essence of true cultivation through writing.

With a final exhale, the jade brush in his hand crumbled into dust, its energy spent.

Yan Chuan chuckled softly, though his face paled slightly. "Those who cultivate words draw energy from the heavens, refining their bodies in the process. Yet even I almost couldn't contain it all... What a rush!"

He gazed at the glowing pagoda suspended above the paper, then carefully folded the rice paper, causing the pagoda to vanish as if it had never been. Folding it a few more times, Yan Chuan tucked it securely into his robe.

After meditating for a while to restore his strength, he stood and opened the door.

Outside, Huo Guang, Liu Jin, and the Silver-armored soldiers awaited him. Not far off, a large palanquin stood ready.

"My lord!" they greeted him in unison.

"Is everything prepared?" Yan Chuan asked.

"Yes, my lord. Three thousand soldiers from the Protectors' Battalion are assembled. I've already sent five hundred ahead to scout for enemy movements," Huo Guang replied.

"Good," Yan Chuan nodded approvingly. "Liu Jin, bring my desk, brushes, and ink. I may need them later."

"At once, my lord!" Liu Jin presented a roll of delicate white silk cloth, smooth as water and light as air. "The white silk you ordered from the eight banners has been woven into a three-foot sheet."

"Oh?" Yan Chuan took the silk, inspecting it closely. "Excellent. Bring it with us. I'll put it to use later."

"Understood, my lord," Liu Jin responded with a bow.

"Now that we're ready, let's move out," Yan Chuan commanded.

"Yes, my lord! Please, board the palanquin," Liu Jin said, gesturing towards the large, sixteen-man carriage.

Yan Chuan stepped inside, pulling aside the silk curtains to reveal a spacious interior. It was more like a small room, complete with windows, a table, and chairs. On the table sat a small incense burner, fruit, and snacks. Sitting comfortably, Yan Chuan plucked a grape from the bowl, peeled it, and popped it into his mouth.

The sweet taste lingered as he leaned back, appreciating the luxury. "It's not quite as grand as my old dragon carriage," he mused, "but it will do."

"Let's go," Yan Chuan ordered.

With a signal from Huo Guang, the palanquin was lifted by the soldiers and began its steady journey. Surrounding them, three thousand soldiers marched, forming a protective wall as they moved towards the Dragon Pulse Mountain. Liu Jin followed, ensuring the writing supplies and the mystical white cloth were packed and ready.

High atop Dragon Pulse Mountain, a misty lake lay shrouded in thick white fog. Four white flags stood around its perimeter, emitting the fog that covered the area. The lake was serene, its waters hiding secrets beneath its surface.

Suddenly, a piercing cry echoed from above. A massive celestial crane descended from the clouds, its wings dispersing the mist with each powerful flap.

The crane, towering over the lake, landed gracefully at the water's edge. With a swift jab of its beak, it snatched a large fish from the lake and swallowed it whole.

Then, a young woman burst from the lake's surface, her hair slicked back and clinging to her flawless face. She was strikingly beautiful, her skin like polished jade, her features delicate yet full of vitality.

The crystal-clear water revealed glimpses of her graceful form, each movement mesmerizing, like a piece of art come to life.

"Little Crane," she called playfully to the bird, "this is a Dragon Pulse lake. The water here is sweet and pure. It might not be as good as home, but it's the best we've found since we left. I haven't had a proper bath in ages, and neither have you! Come, let's wash!"

With a laugh, she splashed the crane, who responded with a joyous call.

The celestial crane flapped its wings, splashing water at the young woman in return. Laughter echoed across the lake as the two continued their playful tussle. Her silvery laughter filled the air, and the scene became one of pure joy.

After a while, they both slowed down. The crane was soaked, its feathers dripping with water, and the young woman, now floating leisurely in the lake, glanced at it and said, "Are they rushing me again?"

The crane let out a cry, nodding its head.

"Haha, let them be! This Forbidden Forest is guarded by a grand Feng Shui formation. Yes, the alignment of the nine stars has drawn a surge of Yin energy, which might create some weak spots in the formation, but do they think it'll be that easy to break through?" She smirked.

"Let them search for an entrance. Without Master Wen Ruo, that half-baked Feng Shui dwarf they've brought won't get far. I'm in no hurry. This grand formation is sure to be full of dangers. The earlier you go in, the quicker you die. I'll wait until the other sects arrive and let them test the waters first. Haven't they noticed Master Wen hasn't shown up yet? Rushing in won't help," she said with a laugh.

The crane let out a few more cries.

"Don't worry, the 'Mystical Lotus of Wonders' inside the formation will be mine," she said confidently.

The crane cried again.

"Keep watch for me. I'm going to enjoy this bath a little longer," she said with a playful smile.

With a final nod, the crane spread its wings and soared into the sky. But as it ascended, the gust from its wings sent a wave of lake water splashing onto the young woman's face.

"Ah! You little troublemaker! Just wait, I'll get you back for that!" she shouted up at the crane, laughing as it flew higher, clearly pleased with itself. It soon disappeared into the clouds, resuming its role as her vigilant guardian.

Meanwhile, in the forest near Dragon Pulse Mountain, Yan Chuan's forces were on the move. After half a day's journey, they were closing in on their destination.

Sitting inside his palanquin, Yan Chuan remained patient. Outside, Huo Guang and Liu Jin marched beside the procession.

"Stop!" Yan Chuan's voice came suddenly from within.

"Hold!" Huo Guang bellowed.

The command quickly rippled through the ranks, and the two thousand soldiers came to an orderly halt.

Curious, Huo Guang glanced toward the palanquin.

Inside, Yan Chuan rolled up his left sleeve, revealing a seed-like birthmark on his wrist. A faint green glow emanated from it.

Gently stroking the mark, Yan Chuan smiled softly. "Even after fate was rewritten, only you, Poison Vine, followed me through reincarnation. Unfortunately, I lack the essence to nurture you now, and you can't grow. But even in your seed form, your ability to detect poison remains intact. A single warning means there's definitely something toxic nearby."

Poison?

Yan Chuan parted the curtains of the palanquin and stepped out.

"Your Highness?" Huo Guang and the others looked at him curiously.

Yan Chuan nodded slightly, his eyes scanning the surroundings. They were in a canyon, flanked by rocky cliffs. Sparse vegetation dotted the cliffs above.

After a moment, Yan Chuan's gaze fixed on a small, verdant sprig halfway up the cliff. At its tip were two tiny, crimson fruits—bright as blood and no larger than soybeans.

Despite their size, these two little fruits had triggered the Poison Vine's warning.

"Drunken Yuan Fruit? Not bad," Yan Chuan remarked with a faint smile.

"Huo Guang, fetch that plant, but be careful not to touch the fruits," Yan Chuan ordered.

"Yes, my lord!" Huo Guang responded.

With a few agile leaps, Huo Guang reached the halfway point of the cliff. Following Yan Chuan's instructions, he carefully uprooted the plant, ensuring not to disturb the toxic fruits. He quickly returned to Yan Chuan's side.

"Your Highness," Huo Guang presented the plant.

"Indeed, it's the Drunken Yuan Fruit," Yan Chuan said, satisfied as he took the plant.

Suddenly, his expression shifted. Sensing something, Yan Chuan's eyes snapped toward the cliff top.

Standing there were eighteen young men and women. At their forefront was a man in a black robe, his brow furrowed, a long sword hanging at his waist. His hand rested on the hilt, his gaze fixed curiously on Yan Chuan.

"Senior Brother, is it him?" one of the others asked the black-robed man.

"There's no mistake. Even after seven years, I'd recognize him, no matter what!" a man in purple robes replied excitedly.

The man in purple wore a dark, brooding expression, his eyes filled with both hatred and a twisted sense of triumph as he looked down at Yan Chuan.

"Who's up there?" Yan Chuan's voice rang out sternly.

"Yan Chuan, you sickly wretch, still alive after all this time?" the man in purple taunted coldly.

"Oh?" Yan Chuan narrowed his eyes, instantly detecting the murderous intent in the man's tone.

Who is this man?