Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Mysterious Map Unexpectedly Revealed

Night descended slowly, swallowing the final vestiges of pale daylight, until all was shrouded beneath the ink-black sky. Silence pressed heavily, broken only by the incomplete crescent moon and the stars flickering restlessly around it, scattering their light across the darkness, ensuring the world was not left to grope blindly in pitch obscurity. A cool breeze stirred the bamboo forest, whispering through the leaves as if beckoning the arrival of some seeker, lending the seemingly monotonous woods an air of mystery. The waterfall’s flow softened, as if it possessed a will of its own and wished not to disturb those already deep in slumber. The magical blue-leafed fruit trees curled in upon themselves like children bereft of safety, hugging their limbs for warmth and courage, even in sleep. The ancient zither in the pavilion, untouched by hands, seemed especially forlorn; a solitary leaf drifted onto the strings, coaxing forth a plaintive melody that stirred a ripple of sorrow in the hearts of those who heard it. All things, beneath the onset of night, took on an air of desolation, yet the bamboo forest was not wholly lifeless—there remained a few souls yet awake, whose murmured conversation lent a spark of vitality to the quiet.

“Why do you suppose the old headmaster summoned us here at such a late hour?” Yanxue Su yawned, her words thick with sleep and annoyance. She detested being roused from her dreams for vague and senseless errands more than anything.

“Exactly. Couldn’t whatever it is wait until morning? Why all this mystery—summoning us out here in the middle of the night!” The night air was bitterly cold, and Lanwu, slight as she was, had no choice but to nestle in Xiaoyin’s arms for warmth, the two of them entwined in gentle intimacy.

“If that old man comes just to spout trivial nonsense, I swear I’ll pluck his beard out, hair by hair, until I’ve vented my frustration. None of you stop me!” Xiaoyin growled. What a beautiful night it was—he’d finally found a chance to be close to Lanwu, to gaze at the moon and savor the breeze, but the somber summons had spoiled the mood entirely. In his exasperation, he could scarcely contain the urge to give the old man a sound beating for ruining such a perfect moment.

“I simply don’t understand what could be so important that I needed to be called as well.” Meng Youyuan’s confusion was plain. Only moments ago, Lan Bingxian had come to tell her that the headmaster wanted everyone from the Bamboo Cottage, including herself, to gather in the bamboo forest. She’d been so surprised she thought she’d misheard, but after confirming it, she was left to wonder what could possibly be so urgent as to make him set aside their longstanding grudge and include her.

“When Master asked me to inform you, I thought I must have misheard too. It wasn’t until he repeated it, growing impatient, that I realized you truly were included. This must be something significant—otherwise Master would never have invited you, no matter the past,” Lan Bingxian said, frowning. He feared trouble had befallen the Misty Orchid Academy, that their master had called them together to devise a strategy for their safety.

“Don’t scare yourself. Even if something has happened at the Academy, Master wouldn’t turn to us for counsel. Don’t forget, there are several esteemed elders with profound cultivation guarding the Academy. With them present, things won’t get out of hand.” Leng Huaiyi saw through Lan Bingxian’s worries and hastened to dispel them.

“Brother Yu, you’ve been silent this whole time. Aren’t you the least bit curious about all this?” Yu Xiaoran asked, amusement glinting in his eyes as he turned to Yushang, who had been quietly observing.

“What use is curiosity? In the end, we’ll just have to wait for the headmaster’s arrival and his announcement. Rather than racking our brains with guesses, we’d do better to conserve our strength and be ready for anything.” Yushang replied, his tone indifferent, as though none of it concerned him.

“It seems there are few things in this world that can truly capture your attention,” Xiaoyin remarked, shaking his head in resignation. It always seemed to him that this stubborn boy cared for nothing beyond his own interests, never sparing a thought for the affairs of others, and his detachment left others at a loss.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting!” The old headmaster hurried over, looking somewhat embarrassed. Judging by his radiant expression, it was unlikely he bore bad news.

“You old man, dragging us out in the middle of the night to freeze! If you’ve something to say, say it quickly. I, for one, would like nothing more than to return to my bed!” Xiaoyin grumbled impatiently.

“I’ll keep the suspense a little longer. Let me first take you to a place—once we arrive, all will become clear.” The headmaster’s tone remained pleasant, even with Meng Youyuan present. He spared her only a fleeting glance before addressing the others with a smile, “This way, everyone.”

The group had no choice but to follow their enigmatic guide. They wound through countless bends, crossed bridges, and slipped through groves, finally arriving at a humble wooden hut. Outside, yellowed weeds grew wild, and cobwebs clung to the walls, suggesting the place had long been uninhabited. The battered door creaked open, revealing a wilted but still fragrant white magnolia in a pot, and dust-laden tables and chairs. Just as everyone wondered why they’d been brought to such a forlorn dwelling, a plainly dressed elder emerged from within. Without a word, the old man struck a wooden cabinet in the corner with a palm brimming with true energy. The result was inevitable—the cabinet shattered, and from within, a sword adorned with a seal flew forth. The elder caught it and murmured an incantation; the seal vanished, and the sword emitted a greyish glow. Then, the elder glanced at Meng Youyuan and tossed the sword to her. She caught it, bewildered, not knowing what it all meant. Closer inspection revealed the sword was identical to the others, save for the unique grey light it emitted.

“I had intended to let this sword remain buried here with your disappearance, unseen by the world. Yet Heaven did not claim your life, which means your duty remains unfulfilled. After much thought, I have decided to return this sword to you. It seems the will of Heaven decrees that all ten swords must be present—none can be missing,” the elder declared, his expression unreadable, betraying neither joy nor sorrow.

“Greetings, Grand Elder!” Leng Huaiyi suddenly bowed deeply with utmost respect, though his gaze harbored a startling, undisguised hatred.

“I remember you—Leng Huaiyi, is it not?” The elder’s eyes flickered with recognition before the light faded.

“That’s me. Surprising that Grand Elder still recalls his disciple,” Leng Huaiyi replied, his voice tinged with gloom as he looked at the old man. The events involving him and Xun Mishuang had drawn many elders to intervene—that very man among them. The elder’s coldness and cruelty were things Leng Huaiyi would never forget.

“How could I forget the one who nearly brought disgrace upon Misty Orchid Academy—a scandal that would have made us a laughingstock for years?” The old man’s words cut deep, though his tone was inscrutable. Fortunately, Leng Huaiyi seemed unfazed, responding only with a perfunctory smile.

“Elders, you summoned us tonight—may we ask your true purpose?” Yushang, sensing the tension, quickly interjected to steer the conversation away.

“I had planned to reveal this only after you triumphed in the upcoming contest, but as I must attend to more pressing matters then, I have no choice but to entrust this to you ahead of time.” As he spoke, the elder produced a yellowed piece of parchment and spread it across the table for all to see.

At this, Yushang found himself increasingly curious about the elder’s identity. What could possibly be more important than the fate of Misty Orchid Academy, that the elder would abandon the contest to pursue his own affairs? He clearly was not as simple as he appeared—no doubt he harbored secrets untold. Moreover, the deference the headmaster showed him was not merely that of a junior to his elder brother, but of a child in the presence of a revered patriarch. For the headmaster to show such respect, the elder must be a figure of extraordinary stature.

“A map?” Lan Bingxian asked, voice tinged with suspicion as he peered at the parchment.

“And in such a strange shape!” Yu Xiaoran exclaimed, never having seen its like.

“Why does this look so familiar?” Xiaoyin muttered, then realization dawned on him. “You rascal, isn’t this your Dragonblade?” he said, turning to Yushang, who had already taken out the blade to compare.

The resemblance was uncanny. The map’s outline matched the Dragonblade exactly. The blade itself was wide at the top, narrowing into a dragon’s tail, and the map was likewise—broad at the head, tapering into a coiled dragon at the end. The interior, however, was bewildering. To the north, clusters of treacherous, unknown hills promised only death for the unwary. To the south raged a turbulent sea of fire—approaching it alone would mean annihilation, let alone crossing its boundless expanse. The west was a maze of mist-laden swamps, where a single misstep or breath of the miasma spelled certain doom. The east, by contrast, was an empty expanse—yet often the most innocuous places concealed the greatest danger.

At the map’s heart, the most eye-catching of all, was the mausoleum. Its architecture was nothing short of astonishing: a lavish palace suspended in midair, its violet roof encrusted with countless precious gems, its white walls etched with scenes of all creation. A great golden door seemed to open and close, yet no one in centuries had ever passed through. Even the most formidable cultivators lost their powers in that region—unable to fly, unable to summon their energy, much less rise to enter the palace itself. To enter would require some external force; cultivation alone would not suffice. But what kind of artifact could break such a seal? For generations, none had unraveled the secret—perhaps it did not exist at all. Yet one thing was certain: within that mysterious mausoleum rested the one who, legend claimed, captivated countless heroes, who ensnared even Fu Youming of the Underworld, and who was venerated above all in the celestial realms—the daughter of the greatest god.