Yellow Skinned Taoist Master

Chapter 135: The Formation Within the Old Temple

"After you fell asleep, the First Guanzhu suddenly became the Third Guanzhu."

"The Third Guanzhu said the sun must go blind too."

"He also told me to bring you in through a different path — said one of his robes was hanging along the way."

The Brass Oil Lamp spoke as it led Chen Huangpi through the Pure Immortal Temple.

After nightfall, the Pure Immortal Temple and the Old Temple merged into one.

Beyond the courtyard gate, there were many routes leading into the Old Temple — through guest rooms, crumbling side halls, and even behind the kitchen.

As they walked, Chen Huangpi asked, "Did Third Master say anything else besides picking up the robe?"

"The Third Guanzhu is mad."

The Brass Oil Lamp said helplessly. "He got halfway through and lost his mind. Started treating me like the sun and tried to strangle me. Good thing I'm tough — otherwise you'd never have seen me again."

"But the Third Guanzhu wants to blind the outer world's sun. He'll surely need that robe to act.""Anyway, what he says, we do."

First Guanzhu. Second Guanzhu. Third Guanzhu.

They were all the Guanzhu.

Whatever the Guanzhu wished to do — great or small — there was always a reason behind it.

"I understand now."

"What do you understand?"

"Third Master is apologizing to me in his own way."

Chen Huangpi snorted. "Yesterday he strung me up on a tree and beat me. But we're like father and son — the blows landed on my body but hurt his heart. Only, he's the master, so naturally he can't bring himself to apologize directly to his disciple."

"So he waited until I was asleep and used you as a go-between to have me collect his robe."

Chen Huangpi pointed at the Daoist robe he was wearing for emphasis. "This robe was made by Granny Tang. It's comfortable and well-fitted, but after everything in the Underworld Yellow Spring, it's been reduced to rags."

"Third Master, really — going to such lengths just to patch things up with me."

"But he underestimates me. I'm not one to hold grudges."

"Oh — and Huang Er? Don't repeat any of this to Third Master. He'll beat me otherwise."

"..."

Listening to this.

The Brass Oil Lamp instinctively glanced up at the crimson moon overhead.

The red moon hung high in the sky.

As though it had remained unchanged since the dawn of time.

But the lamp knew this moon was not the same as the outer world's — it was the Guanzhu's Yin God made manifest.

The crimson moon was like an eye.

Everything that happened within the Hundred Thousand Mountains under the cover of night fell within its gaze.

Thinking this, the Brass Oil Lamp fell silent.

"Ha ha ha!"

Chen Huangpi let out three loud laughs, then said breezily, "Huang Er, what a beautiful full moon tonight! Oh — isn't this the path my most beloved and respected Third Master mentioned?"

"Huang Er, let's go in right now. We mustn't delay Third Master's important business."

The path into the Old Temple was actually inside a side hall.

By day, the hall was in ruins — nothing but a single door remaining. At night, it was restored to its original state, though everything beyond the door was swallowed in darkness.

At the entrance.

Chen Huangpi didn't hesitate. He pushed open the door and walked in.

The next instant.

His vision went black. The world spun.

And then he was inside the Old Temple — the realm that only existed at night.

In the darkness, with a soft whoosh.

A flickering, tarnished flame illuminated the surroundings.

Only then could Chen Huangpi see clearly.

This side hall was enormous — roughly thirty meters tall, and as wide as four of the daytime Pure Immortal Temple's main halls side by side.

Inside, it was an utter mess.

Tables, chairs, and meditation cushions were strewn everywhere. Dried bloodstains mottled the floor.

As though a great battle had taken place here.

In one corner against the wall stood a lamp stand.

"That's where I used to hang," the Brass Oil Lamp said, its voice tinged with complicated emotion. "When the Guanzhu made me, he used nothing but scraps and offcuts. I assumed I wasn't valued. The Daoists at the temple didn't take me seriously either — just dumped me here in this side hall."

Looking back on those days, even the Brass Oil Lamp now knew it hadn't been as worthless as it once believed.

The Nine Nether God Lantern was no lesser than...

Well, at least its potential was no lesser than Huang Yi's Golden Top Heavenly Lamp.

But revisiting these old haunts, with memories of the past flooding in — how could it possibly let go?

Chen Huangpi offered comfort. "Huang Er, Master gave you your own side hall to be enshrined in. How is that not valuing you?"

"This side hall is called the Junk Hall."

"Junk Hall it is, then."

Chen Huangpi quickly pivoted. "Still better than the Trash Hall."

"Buddy, you really have a way with words."

The Brass Oil Lamp said, deeply moved. "If I could beat you in a fight, I'd seal your mouth with lamp oil."

Back when the Guanzhu had brought his Daoists to the Hundred Thousand Mountains to create gods.

Over the course of three centuries, they had practically turned the entire mountain range upside down.

And whatever rare oddities that couldn't be used for god-creation had been tossed into this Junk Hall like garbage.

Hence, the Junk Hall also went by another name: the Trash Hall.

"Huang Er, I know how moved you are."

Chen Huangpi said graciously. "But you don't need to seal my mouth. Just tell me — are there any other treasures in this Junk Hall like you? Anything I can take out would be repayment enough."

"Nothing. Not a single one."

The Brass Oil Lamp shook its head. "Everything left in this Trash Hall is dead matter — not a spark of spiritual nature remaining. Even if you could take it out, it'd be useless."

"All right."

Chen Huangpi's disappointment was immediate, and with it, all interest in the Trash Hall evaporated.

So he pushed open the door and walked out.

Going from the Pure Immortal Temple to the Old Temple required pushing open a door to enter. But once inside, pushing open the same door led to another part of the Old Temple. You'd have to reverse the process to leave.

Beyond the Trash Hall, everything was cloaked in hazy grey.

Last time he'd visited the Old Temple, the landscape had changed dramatically.

Everything had been floating in midair, wreathed in cyan mist.

Now it looked the same as before.

Blue stone paths on the ground. Withered trees flanking either side. A few hundred paces ahead, another side hall.

Chen Huangpi walked forward, Brass Oil Lamp in hand.

"Huang Er, have you walked this path before?"

"Of course."

The Brass Oil Lamp said. "I was placed in the Junk Hall, but I wasn't under house arrest. I've walked this path more times than I can count — though this is my first time here since it became the Old Temple."

"See that path on the left?"

"I see it."

Chen Huangpi looked left and saw a blue stone path vanishing into thick forest. The path stretched beyond sight, flanked on both sides by dense stands of dead trees — dark, eerie, as though leading straight to the underworld.

"That path goes directly to a side peak of Mount Yuqiong. The Nine Separation Bell used to hang at the very summit."

The Brass Oil Lamp said wistfully. "But now it's become an evil spirit. It's not there anymore. Who knows — maybe the Third Guanzhu took it with him when he left the Old Temple."

Third Master had previously wielded the Nine Separation Bell to save Chen Huangpi's life more than once.

Now that Third Master had left the Old Temple, perhaps he'd brought the bell with him.

But Chen Huangpi shook his head. "First Master said there's something imprisoned in the Old Temple. The sword left to go find Huang Yi. As for the Nine Separation Bell and the Earth Scripture, they're both suppression anchors — they definitely haven't left."

"Wait — Huang Er, why are there characters carved on these flagstones?"

Chen Huangpi suddenly noticed that the blue stone path leading toward the Nine Separation Bell's former peak was covered in dense, strange writing. His curiosity was instantly piqued.

"Don't look! Don't look!"

The Brass Oil Lamp's expression changed drastically. "The Old Temple is full of tricks. Reading those might cause serious problems. Let's just find the Guanzhu's robe and stop wasting time."

"It'll be fine."

Even as the Brass Oil Lamp spoke, Chen Huangpi had already leaned in for a closer look.

The flagstones were covered with writing.

The characters matched exactly the wild, sweeping calligraphy on the tomb gates of the God-Burying Mound.

The Brass Oil Lamp went white.

It didn't dare look at those characters.

But then Chen Huangpi read aloud: "Azure Heaven is dead. Yellow Heaven is not yet born. Descend and suppress the Immortal. Thus, draw upon its death qi to form the formation. Three thousand immortals as formation nodes. Until eighteen thousand years have passed."

"Huh? That's what the writing says?"

"What did you think it would say?"

"Nothing..."

The Brass Oil Lamp breathed a sigh of relief.

It had feared the writing might be the formal apology it had once groveled out to the Nine Separation Bell.

Back in the day, its most hated rival had been Huang Yi.

Because of that, it had rarely used the name "Huang Er," instead insisting on the title "Nine Nether God Lantern." Over time, the self-aggrandizement went to its head. Then the cast-offs in the Trash Hall mentioned that some other treasure called the Nine Separation Bell also had "Nine" in its name.

The Nine Nether God Lantern was outraged the moment it heard.

What level was this Nine Separation Bell?

How dare it share a prefix with the great Nine Nether God Lantern?

If the bell didn't change its name, then the Nine Nether God Lantern would write its own name backwards.

The Nine Separation Bell had merely glanced at it.

And the Nine Nether God Lantern had dropped to its knees on the spot, kowtowing every three steps, carving into the flagstones: 'It was all a misunderstanding. Brother Nine, please don't be angry. Actually, my name is Huang Er. For my big brother's sake, please accept my apology. I'm kneeling and bowing to you right now.'

Just then.

Chen Huangpi spoke suddenly. "My uncle Chen Huang once said the Heaven and Earth Mutation would last eighteen thousand years. And this writing mentions three thousand immortals as formation nodes, drawing upon death qi to create a formation. Could it be that what's being suppressed is... Azure Heaven?"

The Brass Oil Lamp asked, "Why not Yellow Heaven?"

"Yellow Heaven hasn't been born yet. What would be the point of suppressing it?"

Chen Huangpi gave the Brass Oil Lamp an odd look, then continued. "Besides, the text specifically says 'draw upon its death qi.' Azure Heaven is the one that died. So the death qi obviously refers to Azure Heaven's."

"But why is this writing only found here, around the Nine Separation Bell? Why isn't it elsewhere?"

"Keep walking."

The Brass Oil Lamp seemed to have remembered something. It urged him on. "Up ahead, turn right. There's another flagstone path. That one leads to the Sword Peak — where the Guanzhu's personal sword was kept."

"All right."

Moments later.

Chen Huangpi reached the place the Brass Oil Lamp had described.

Another blue stone path, leading to yet another side peak of Mount Yuqiong.

Even from a distance, the peak looked like an upright blade. A single glance sent a chill through the body, and one could almost hear the faint ring of a sword humming at the edge of hearing.

"That sword's edge is too fierce."

The Brass Oil Lamp said warily. "Even with a scabbard concealing its sharpness, the Sword Peak has absorbed so much of its aura that the peak itself has become deadly. You cannot walk this path — the Sword Peak's sword qi would cut you down."

"This path has the same writing on it."

"Let's check another one."

"This used to be the Sky-Gazing Pavilion, where the Earth Scripture was kept. The Earth Scripture reflects the azure firmament and records every great and minor event that occurs under the turning of sun and moon. But the Earth Scripture, like the Nine Separation Bell, is no longer here."

"Come on — let's look further ahead."

The Brass Oil Lamp led Chen Huangpi on a winding tour through the Old Temple.

This entire area had once housed the Pure Immortal Temple's most treasured artifacts. And yet, strangely, not a single evil spirit was anywhere to be seen.

Otherwise, the Brass Oil Lamp would never have let Chen Huangpi wander so freely.

They checked five locations in total.

Every place where a great treasure had once resided — whether on flagstone paths or atop pavilion towers — was blanketed with those same eerie characters.

The Brass Oil Lamp said in alarm, "Five in total: the Earth Scripture, the Nine Separation Bell, the Stone Pagoda, the True Void Sword, and the Dragon-Locking Well. Every one of their resting places is like this. Could they all have become part of a formation — drawing Azure Heaven's death qi to suppress it?"

"It shouldn't be just five. Nine is the ultimate number. There should be four more."

Chen Huangpi's brow was deeply furrowed. "The Flying Immortal Painting and Huang Yi — they were originally hanging on the walls of the main hall. But they've vanished."

"If they hadn't, the main hall would probably be inscribed with these same characters."

"And there might be me too."

The Brass Oil Lamp said with an ugly expression. "I awakened outside the Old Temple. I can consecrate Yin Gods. I'm also one of the great treasures. But even including me, that's only eight. There's still one missing."

Chen Huangpi thought for a moment. "First Master mentioned a millstone inside the Old Temple. He was probably referring to the altar — the one being pulled by five true dragons. That should be the ninth great treasure."