Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Inside the cabin, the doors and windows were tightly shut, shrouded in darkness.

Shen Xiyin’s ragged breaths echoed in the cramped space. She sat on the edge of the bed, lowering her gaze to the unhealed red finger marks beneath her thin undergarments. Thinking of the force he had once exerted on her, her damp, still-wet body trembled uncontrollably.

The marks from last time’s force haven’t even faded yet—how much more force would be needed this time?

A wave of unknown dread washed over her, making her heart pound with fear. The next moment, this unease peaked.

Unlike the previous trials, this time the Mind-Trapping Array gave no time limit.

Before the two could think or resist, the moment the Trial of Passion task was given, the chime rang out again.

This time, Shen Xiyin heard it loud and clear. It spoke four words—four words that made her heart race.

“Immediate enforcement.”

River waves crashed against the hull, shattering into a thousand white bubbles. The surging waves couldn’t drown out her frantic heartbeat.

—

On the distant riverbank, a gentle breeze blew, balmy and refreshing. Bathed in sunlight, shallow waves lapped over the stone steps, scattering a layer of golden fragments.

A vermilion-lacquered, silver-engraved ornate boat was moored at the shore. The notable young talents of the Xunyang region’s cultivation sects had all gathered inside the boat, discussing the mysteries of the Dao and drinking for fun.

Pei Jun and the other two were among them.

But the story starts from last time they were on Mystic Sect Street, after hearing about the “Heavenly Tower” from an old Daoist priest.

At first, they thought the tower story was just the old priest’s scam to make money. But over the past two days, after casually asking around, they found it wasn’t just the old man’s empty fabrication.

Quite a few locals had actually heard of the Heavenly Tower legend.

Pei Ling asked Xie Yusheng, “You’ve wandered through Xunyang before—haven’t you heard of this?”

Xie Yusheng shook his head. “I don’t remember well. Tales like this—of so-and-so attaining enlightenment and ascending on some mountain, lake, or tower—are common everywhere. Why would I bother to pay attention to that?”

Even so, Pei Ling still couldn’t shake his interest in the Heavenly Tower.

As they say, matters of the cultivation world should be investigated through the cultivation world. If you want to know where it’s easiest to dig up these strange tales, it’s at local gatherings of cultivation sects.

With many people and loose tongues, over drinks, talk flows freely. Many cultivation sect secrets have leaked out at gatherings like these.

And so, the three of them boarded the ornate boat by the riverbank.

Pei Jun usually hated these kinds of gatherings. Every time he showed up, all sorts of people would swarm around him—either trying to use him to get close to his uncle, or approaching him with ulterior motives. Anyway, most of the time, nothing good came of it.

So every time he came to a place like this, he’d put on a cold face, acting like “don’t bother warming up to me.”

This time, he surprisingly put on a friendly face, and the young cultivation disciples around him were very cooperative, answering almost every question he asked.

When he brought up the Heavenly Tower, a few young men gathered around to discuss it.

“The legend of the Heavenly Tower isn’t anything special. It’s just about a cultivator who spent half his life in bitter cultivation, standing atop a tower by the Xunyang River, attaining enlightenment and ascending to immortality. We’ve all heard plenty of similar tales since childhood—hard to tell truth from fiction, impossible to verify. Cultivators practice the Dao to shed the shackles of the mortal body and seize a chance to enter the immortal realm. But throughout history, how many have truly achieved enlightenment and ascended? Most of these legends were made up by our predecessors to inspire people to cultivate diligently. They’re completely unverifiable. Let alone finding this tower.”

“Besides, even if the tower really exists, finding it is useless. It’s not like just because he ascended there, you could too.”

“That’s not quite right. If you really found such a tower, it could be of great use.”

“How so?”

“You’re not going to say it could be turned into a scenic spot to visit, are you?”

Amid a burst of laughter, the speaker said mysteriously, “No, that’s not it. I’ve heard another legend about this tower.”

Pei Ling grew interested and pressed, “What legend?”

“I heard it long ago from my late grandfather…” The speaker fell into recollection.

“The legend says that the scholar who attained enlightenment and ascended on the tower came from a family of artifact refiners. A hundred years ago, the art of forging immortal artifacts wasn’t as mature as it is now. Good artifact refiners were hard to come by, and when one mentioned a family of artifact refiners, the first thing that came to mind was ‘immensely wealthy.’”

“But what does that have to do with the tower?”

“Of course it does—a huge connection.”

Pei Jun shot the speaker a glance. “Stop beating around the bush. Spit it out.”

“They say that after ascending, the man left behind a vast fortune in the mortal world, hidden at the site of his ascension. If you could find the location of this tower, you might find the treasure left by the immortal.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned this before?”

“You never asked.”

“Now that you mention it, I recall hearing something similar from an older cultivator once. But it’s an old tale, rarely known nowadays.”

“I remember there’s even a poem about this treasure.”

Pei Jun asked curiously, “What poem?”

“I can’t recall exactly. I think one line goes… ‘Where the eye can see, all is blood-red.’”

Xie Yusheng toyed with his Jade Bone Fan, lost in thought.

Pei Ling repeated the line to himself, “Where the eye can see, all is blood-red?”

Someone beside them gave a stiff laugh. “That sounds rather creepy.”

“But speaking of which, does this treasure really exist?”

“Even the existence of the tower is doubtful, let alone anything else. Legends are just legends.”

The discussion about the Heavenly Tower soon faded amid a chorus of sighs, and the group eagerly turned to playing drinking games.

Inspired by the legend of the Heavenly Tower, someone suggested that everyone present should share a strange tale they had heard recently. If the story wasn’t strange or bizarre enough, the teller would be fined a drink.

Pei Jun sat there bored, listening to tales of haunted graves and painted-skin brides, yawning repeatedly. Until a shy-looking female cultivator in the corner began recounting something she had witnessed not long ago.

“What I’m about to tell, you might all know.”

“What is it?”

“It’s about one of the two massacres that happened here last month.”

“Are you talking about the Zhu family, who were burned to death, or the Jiang family, who drowned?”

“The Jiang family.”

“I remember they went on a boat trip and were unlucky enough to encounter a swarm of water ghosts. The boat capsized, and all their family members drowned. Everyone knows this—what’s there to say?”

"Don't you find it strange?"

"How so?"

"The Jiang family has lived by the Xunyang River for generations, so they should be good swimmers. The waters where the incident occurred were calm and not far from the shore. How could over a hundred people fall in and none survive?"

Hearing the cultivator's question, everyone present was taken aback.

"Perhaps they were entangled by water ghosts and couldn't escape, so..."

"No." The cultivator shook her head. "They weren't drowned; they were bitten to death by water ghosts."

Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions shifting from doubt to alarm. The room fell silent. After a moment, someone asked, "How do you know?"

The cultivator lowered her head and mumbled, "I—I heard it from a friend. She witnessed it herself."

"Your friend?"

"Yes, my friend."

"That day, she happened to pass by the shore and saw the Jiang family's boat capsize. Everyone on board fell into the water. A swarm of water ghosts rushed over and started biting them. Before long, the river ran red with blood. At first, there were sounds of struggle and screams, but then everything went silent."

Perhaps the scene described by the cultivator was too eerie; everyone looked grim.

After a pause, she added, "But that day, she had drunk a lot of wine. Maybe she saw it wrong, or maybe she was too drunk to think straight. I'm not sure, probably not..."

She trailed off, and since she stopped speaking, no one pressed further. Not only was she uncertain about the truth of it, but since it wasn't their business, most people were too lazy to dig deeper, treating it like idle gossip.

The gathering broke up in the afternoon, and the three of them got off the painted boat.

Pei Jun asked his two companions, "What do you think about what that cultivator said?"

Xie Yusheng said offhandedly, "Usually, when someone says 'I have a friend...' that friend is often themselves."

Pei Ling said seriously, "Her story has two red flags. First, water ghosts don't usually bite people indiscriminately. Second, the difference between being bitten to death and drowning is way too obvious to mix up."

"Assuming she's telling the truth, it can only mean one thing."

His face grew dark, and he paused: "The Jiang family's massacre wasn't an accident."

"Someone controlled the water ghosts to bite the Jiang family to death and used some kind of illusion to make it look like accidental drowning. Someone with that level of mystical skill was definitely not someone you'd want to mess with."

Perhaps that was the real reason no one wanted to delve deeper when the cultivator brought it up. Someone capable of cultivating mystical arts to such a level was definitely not a nobody to be trifled with lightly.

Xie Yusheng flicked his fan and smiled, making a comparison: "Like your family head."

Pei Jun couldn't tolerate anyone slandering his most respected uncle's character and angrily shouted at Xie Yusheng, "Get lost."

"Alright, alright." Xie Yusheng quickly "got lost" to one side to watch the river view.

He gazed at the river, his smile fading and his eyes growing dark, but soon he thought of something amusing and the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Do you have a grudge against my uncle?" Pei Jun glanced at him from behind.

"No, not at all." Xie Yusheng answered him truthfully.