The Forbidden Path to Immortality-Chapter 240

Without Ming Li slowing them down, their pace more than doubled. Even though the territory of the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect stretched far and wide, the two of them still managed to reach Ghost Gate Lake by the next morning.

Li Xun’s guess was right. One look at the strange expressions of a few fellow sect members when they saw Shui Die Lan told him all he needed to know. Ming Li had clearly gotten back first and spread the word.

Luckily, over the past few years, Li Xun’s growing influence within the sect had made most people think twice before gossiping about him. As for Shui Die Lan, she was completely unfazed by the curious looks they received. She busied herself taking in the grand buildings of the sect’s main grounds with open curiosity.

“Ugh, it stinks!”

That was Shui Die Lan’s first comment about Ghost Gate Lake.

“No sunlight, just this thick gray mist all day long. Breathe it in and your lungs start to itch. No wonder you never come back here. Stay in a place like this long enough, and even a fox would turn into a pig!”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” a voice drifted out from the mist, followed by a laugh. “Hundred Ghosts, you’ve brought back quite the charming guest this time...”

The words died away, and a lithe woman stepped out of the fog. Black robes clung to her like shadow, stitched with patterns fine enough to make a man stare twice. The hood hung loose on her shoulders, revealing a pale, elegant face. There was a smile on her face, quiet and calm, soft and easy, like a spring breeze on your skin.

If she wasn’t Madam Yan, then who else could it be?

Li Xun never expected to run into her here. He paused for a heartbeat, then bowed. “Madam.”

Madam Yan nodded just a fraction, her eyes already flicking to Shui Die Lan. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Li Xun opened his mouth, then stiffened. He’d forgotten to discuss an alias with Shui Die Lan beforehand. How was he supposed to introduce her now?

“Li.” Shui Die Lan’s smile softened the moment, probably at his discomfort. “My husband’s name is Li. Call me Madam Li, or Lady Li. Doesn’t matter.”

Li Xun caught Lady Yan’s questioning glance on him, forced a laugh, and nodded. The second her attention swung elsewhere, he rolled his eyes.

Alright, never mind the whole “my husband’s name is Li” nonsense. For Shui Die Lan to call herself “Madam Li” so openly… wasn’t that basically looking for trouble?

Madam Yan was nothing if not cunning. No hint of displeasure crossed her face. If anything, her smile grew warmer, more inviting.

But she didn’t actually call Shui Die Lan “Lady Li.” “So, you’re Daoist Li…” she said instead.

She paused for barely a breath, and Li Xun fell in perfectly, repeating the whole story about “seeking refuge.”

Madam Yan didn’t look surprised at all. Li Xun figured she must have already gotten word from Ming Li. That would explain why she’d let Shui Die Lan get away with that attitude.

It seemed Madam Yan and the Underworld Flame Yama had reached some sort of understanding. At the very least, they were sharing information. And that meant they were on the same side.

Had the Underworld Flame Yama finally chosen a side?

While Li Xun mulled that over, Madam Yan had already struck up a conversation with Shui Die Lan. Subtle probing, nothing more. Shui Die Lan handled it all with ease.

After a few exchanges, Madam Yan seemed satisfied. She turned back with a pleasant smile. “Hundred Ghosts, you’ve come a long way back. You really ought to rest for a while. But you should visit Elder Yin Jin sooner rather than later.”

She paused for a moment. “You should know, your name was the first she put forward in the competition for Elder among the great clans’ disciples. That’s why you’ve got the advantage, and you’d do well to go and thank her.”

Li Xun hadn’t expected that piece of news.

To be honest, he’d been so busy lately that he’d completely forgotten about the old lady stepping down. It wasn’t until Madam Yan mentioned it that it finally came back to him.

He had no objections, of course. He agreed, then glanced over at Shui Die Lan.

Madam Yan chuckled. “I’ll make arrangements for Daoist Li. The area around Ghost Gate Lake isn’t exactly a place to linger, but there are a few spots that are fairly pleasant. Better she stays there than suffocate down here.”

Shui Die Lan had no reason to refuse. She gave Li Xun a bright little and a quick farewell, then walked off with Madam Yan, side by side.

Li Xun watched the two women fade into the fog, chuckled under his breath, shook his head, and headed off toward Elder Yin Jin’s residence.

As the last surviving elder of the former Shadow-Devouring Sect and someone who had lived for nearly five thousand years, Elder Yin Jin might look like a muddle-headed old woman with mediocre cultivation. But his status was no joke; even the Underworld Flame Lord had to call her senior.

She was also the only elder allowed to live year-round at the very heart of the island. Her residence sat right next to the sect’s most important place, the Void Hall. And like the Void Hall, it sank dozens of yards underground, though it didn’t have nearly the same level of tight security.

As Li Xun walked along, every disciple he passed bowed and greeted him with respect. It was proof that his standing in the sect was becoming more and more solid.

Half an hour later, he arrived at Yin Jin’s dwelling. He didn’t even have time to knock before the heavy stone door silently swung open.

Only… there was no one behind the door.

Li Xun furrowed his brow. Instinctively, he called on Nether One to stay alert, while carefully scanning the room.

For a cultivator, Yin Jin’s place was pretty normal. The main hall was simple and everything could be seen at a glance. Only the doorway to the inner room was covered by a thick, somewhat worn curtain.

But from behind it, he could hear… voices. Strange voices.

Someone was singing in a high-pitched, drawn-out voice, going on and on. Every now and then, there was a harsh, gander-like cackle, and a few soft coughs in between.

Li Xun’s frown tightened, then eased. In the end, he stepped inside without hesitation and let the door swing shut behind him.

He strolled slowly up to the inner door, lifted the curtain, and peeked inside. His eyelid twitched.

Right in front of him was a huge water mirror, taking up nearly two-thirds of the wall. People moved inside it, dramatic poses and exaggerated voices. They were actually performing opera on a stage.

Opera? In the Tongxuan Realm?

Just one glance at the performers and crowd told him everything: the scene in the mirror was from the mortal world.

Right then, the lead actress hit a soaring note, and the audience below erupted in applause. That raucous, living roar of voices... it had been years since he’d heard anything like it.

The two people in the room didn’t hold back either. As if they didn’t even notice Li Xun had come in, they both clapped and shouted, “Well done!”

But no sooner had the shout left their mouths than a fit of hacking coughs followed, jagged and rough. Li Xun’s throat felt itchy just listening.

He let out a quiet sigh. Catching a brief pause in the performance, he whispered, “Sect Master, Elder Yin, your disciple has arrived.”

One of the two didn’t react at all, but the one who was supposedly half-blind and half-deaf, Elder Yin Jin, turned her head and cackled. “Ah, Hundred Ghosts boy is here! Come, sit, sit. The play’s getting good. Watch with us!”

Li Xun didn’t hesitate. He nodded and took a seat on the stone stool beside her, but his eyes didn’t go to the water mirror. They slid past Yin Jin, resting instead on the pale, sickly man slumped in the recliner. The Underworld Flame Yama.

He didn’t seem to notice the stare at all. The Underworld Flame Yama’s sunken eyes stayed fixed on the water-mirror, completely absorbed in the little drama playing out inside it.

Li Xun thought for a moment, then looked over as well. After watching for a bit, the corner of his mouth lifted. Ah, he knew this story.

He’d heard it as a kid. Couldn’t remember the name, but the plot was the same tired old “emperor disguises himself to secretly visit the people” thing.

That part was cliché enough, but this version even had the emperor flirting with innocent village girls, turning common peasant girls into noble ladies overnight. The whole setup was so over-the-top it made anyone who knew better smirk. Really, it was just shallow entertainment.

Still, there was one thing interesting about it. An absolutely brilliant bit of irony buried in the tale.

A village girl who’s never even seen the emperor, trying to teach a real emperor how emperors are supposed to act. Just because that’s how it’s done in a play.

Anyone watching would get the joke. It doesn’t just poke fun at the characters and the story; it even turns around and mocks the writer. Layer after layer of irony. Truly brilliant.

At this point, not only Li Xun but even the Underworld Flame Yama burst out laughing. He coughed through it, but still laughed with rare, reckless delight. So unlike his usual grim demeanor.

And then, for the first time, he spoke to Li Xun.

“Hundred Ghosts,” he asked, “what do you think of the play, and the world watching it?”

Li Xun blinked, then cracked a dry little smile. “Summer insects talk about winter ice, and frogs at the bottom of a well talk about the sea. Everyone sees what they’re capable of seeing. Best just enjoy the show.”

“Know your place, do you? Mm, not wrong… though you’re standing a bit too high.” The Underworld Flame Yama turned his head, his eyes sunk deep in their sockets, gray light flickering faintly in the depths. It was impossible to read what he was thinking.

“We look down on those below, see them like ants… but who’s to say there isn’t something above us that sees us as ants too? Even if there isn’t, how many people in this world dare claim they truly understand everything under heaven? Take those so-called sages of the Water Mirror Sect, just charlatans dressing up fortune-telling and face-reading as divine wisdom.”

Li Xun wasn’t sure what exactly the Lord meant by all that. He just bowed his head and said quietly, “Sect Master is right.”

“‘Right or wrong, who cares,’’ he said. ‘Just been cooped up lately, needed someone to talk to.’ Then he clapped his hands and chuckled. “Ah, I almost forgot. You’re the only one here qualified to judge a play like this. After all, a prince of royal blood is very different from the likes of us.”

Li Xun froze.

....

TLer: not sure why, but I really enjoyed this chapter a lot