Chapter 39: Cauldron Vessel Fragment — Beast-Fighting Palace

Chen Lingxi stepped over the threshold, his pupils contracting.

He saw mountains and rivers.

A vast, breathtaking landscape.

Peaks rolled into the distance, overlapping in endless ridges. The faraway mountains formed dark silhouettes, while the nearer slopes brimmed with emerald green.

A clear, turquoise stream wound through the valleys, its surface sparkling like shattered gold in the sunlight.

Wisps of cloud and mist wreathed the mountainsides, shrouding the peaks until they were only half-visible.

Except... the sunlight in the sky was not sunlight.

Chen Lingxi looked up—

There was no sun in the firmament.

There was only a jade bottle.

The bottle hung high above. Its body was a lustrous, translucent white, swirling with faint streams of light.

Its mouth pointed downward, pouring out a cascade of purple brilliance. Like a violet waterfall descending from the heavens, it illuminated the entire landscape.

Chen Lingxi's gaze sharpened!

He recognized this jade bottle.

On Cuojin Mountain, during the saber-wielder's assassination attempt!

This was the very object held by the youth in the purple-gold crown!

From it had shone that immensely heavy Purple True Precious Qi, attempting to slay the assassin.

And the wisp of Purple True Precious Qi now resting in his own dantian had come from this exact vessel!

'It's not just the Purple True Precious Qi!'

As Chen Lingxi reached out with his senses, his spiritual qi caught the wash of a primeval aura brushing against him.

The aura was immensely thick and heavy, as if it carried the weight of millions of years of condensed time, so oppressive it made it hard to breathe.

It wasn't sharp, nor was it fierce. It carried no hostile intent whatsoever.

It was simply—ancient.

So ancient it felt as though it had existed since the dawn of the world; so ancient it felt as if time itself had crystallized into physical form.

Chen Lingxi's breath caught in his throat.

He had felt this before.

'The Time Candle.'

When the Venerable Cauldron within the candle opened its eyes, the primeval aura that washed over him was incredibly similar to this one.

Except the aura of the Time Candle had been heavier and darker, carrying the twilight gloom of dying old age.

The aura before him was clearer and brighter. It brimmed with a vibrant, almost arrogant sense of youth.

'Ancient yet young?'

The sensation was entirely bizarre.

Chen Lingxi took a deep breath.

He finally understood.

'This Beast-Fighting Palace... is it a Cauldron Vessel fragment, or perhaps a complete Cauldron Vessel itself?'

Standing on a gentle slope, Chen Lingxi took in the sky with its suspended jade bottle and the endless stretch of mountains, forming a plan in his mind.

'A Cauldron Vessel... exactly like the Time Candle,' he mused silently. His gaze swept over the distant, overlapping peaks, dropping into the deeper forested ravines.

Just then, a muffled boom erupted from the distant woods.

It wasn't loud, but it was heavy enough to sound like a drum being beaten deep underground, the vibrations setting the surrounding leaves trembling.

Chen Lingxi looked toward the noise. In a mountain hollow three li away, two figures clashed.

They were two "beast fighters"!

One wielded a saber, its blade light spilling out like unspooled silk, shredding the surrounding foliage into flying debris. The other thrust a long spear, the tip trembling to form bowl-sized blooms of silver light as every strike aimed relentlessly for his opponent's throat and heart.

Both were at the Bronze-Red Realm. Their blood-qi burned like fire. Every clash of their weapons sent up brilliant showers of sparks, casting erratic, flickering light over the gloomy hollow.

Chen Lingxi didn't move.

Standing at the crest of the slope and using a few stunted pines for cover, he quietly watched the lethal struggle.

The saber-wielder gradually gained the upper hand.

His saber technique wasn't particularly profound, but it triumphed in pure speed. Each slash was faster than the last, falling like a torrential summer downpour against banana leaves, leaving absolutely no gaps.

The spearman's blood-qi was already inferior, and under the relentless assault, he was forced into a frantic retreat. His spear forms collapsed, and his footwork fell apart.

A flash of blade light sliced through the air. The spear shaft was sheared cleanly in half, the cut as smooth as a mirror.

A second flash of the blade, and his head flew into the air.

Blood fountained upward.

Chen Lingxi saw what happened next with pristine clarity.

The spearman's fallen corpse suddenly convulsed and began to melt away. Then, from the crown of his dissolving head, a streak of glowing light slowly drifted upward!

The glow was thin, faint, and milky white. Like a slender plume of smoke, it curled up from his skull, circled the air three times, and lazily drifted toward the saber-wielder.

The saber-wielder had been squatting on the ground, looting his opponent's remains. Startled by the sudden manifestation of light, he leapt back, raising his saber horizontally across his chest in a defensive guard.

But the glow ignored his guard entirely. It floated gently down to rest just above his head, hanging in the air like a tiny, faintly luminescent moon.

The man froze in shock for a moment before reaching up to touch it. His palm passed straight through the light, grasping nothing but empty air.

Shocked and bewildered, he glanced around rapidly. Unable to figure out what the phenomenon was, he eventually gave up and walked deeper into the hollow, saber in hand.

The orb of light above his head followed him, not lagging by a single inch.

Taking all this in, Chen Lingxi came to a realization.

'This light... it must be tied to the Cauldron Vessel.'

'Cauldron Vessels operate by their own absolute rules.

Just as the Time Candle trades lifespan for karmic opportunities, this place—being a Cauldron Vessel fragment—must have a specific set of rules of its own.'

He withdrew his gaze, ignoring the retreating back of the saber-wielder.

'In this realm, my first priority is to hide my tracks and assess the situation. I'll let these beast fighters slaughter and wear each other down, and only step in to deal with the strongest survivors.'

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air, withdrawing his aura until it was completely locked down.

The Concealed Edge Method circulated silently through his body. In his dantian, the thread of azure qi was wrapped in a paper-thin but incredibly resilient barrier, completely preventing any leakage.

Beneath his skin, the faint, silvery-white glow unique to the Silver Bone Realm was suppressed until it was practically nonexistent.

He scanned his surroundings and picked out a towering, ancient locust tree.

The tree was incredibly thick, its trunk requiring three or four men to encircle it. Its canopy blocked out the sky, with layers upon layers of dense branches and leaves that allowed almost no light to penetrate.

'I'll hide in the tree for now.'

He walked to the base of the trunk. Tapping his toe lightly against the bark, he launched himself upward. Like a feral cat in the night, he slipped silently into the depths of the canopy.

Finding a sturdy branch, he sat cross-legged with his back against the main trunk. His figure melted seamlessly into the dense shadows of the leaves.

A breeze swept past, rustling the locust leaves. The sound perfectly masked his breathing and heartbeat.

He sat there, entirely motionless.

Two shichen passed.

The sounds of battle constantly echoed through the forest—battle cries, the clash of blades, the agonizing shrieks of the dying. Carried by the mountain winds from varying distances, every sound found its way to his ears.

In the distance, streaks of light would frequently rise into the air. Sometimes it was just one; other times, two or three would light up simultaneously, floating faintly above the heads of the victors.

Chen Lingxi remained perfectly still.

He was fully capable of killing, but he preferred to avoid meaningless slaughter wherever possible.

He was waiting.

Waiting for those beast fighters to wear each other down.

Over a shichen later, the noises echoing from the forest gradually thinned out.

Right at that moment, he heard footsteps.

The footsteps were heavy and incredibly steady. As they fell upon the rocky path, the distance between each stride was so exact it seemed to have been measured with a ruler.

Woven into the sound of those footsteps was an exceptionally faint, airy humming.

The melody was a coarse, vulgar folk tune that Chen Lingxi had never heard before.

He slowly opened his eyes and peered down through the gaps in the foliage.

His pupils instantly contracted.

'Qiu Chihu?'

Striding down the mountain path was none other than Qiu Chihu.

He still wore the same dark martial robes, his long saber hanging from his waist.

His steps were brisk, a smile plastered across his face as he hummed his tune. He looked like a carefree young rake on his way to visit a brothel!

But the state of his body was anything but carefree.

His robes were thoroughly splattered with blood.

His right hand rested constantly on his saber hilt. It was a large, knobby hand, veins bulging like knotted roots across the back, with dark red blood and grime caked deep beneath the fingernails.

Hovering above his head were ten streaks of light.

Ten orbs of true light, milky white with a faint tinge of gold. They lined up in a perfectly neat row, resting above his head like a crown woven from starlight.

Chen Lingxi's gaze swept across the ten lights, his heart sinking slightly.

Ten lights meant at least ten lives taken.

Chen Lingxi neither moved nor stared.

He closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and brought his heartbeat to a crawl. He became like a patch of moss growing on the bark, fusing entirely with the old locust tree.

Qiu Chihu arrived at the base of the tree and suddenly stopped. Raising his head, he stared up at the towering ancient locust.

Through narrowed slits, Chen Lingxi saw the man's gaze sweep across the canopy, seemingly searching for something.

A moment later, Qiu Chihu withdrew his gaze. He shook his head and walked past the tree, continuing on his way.

Chen Lingxi didn't move a muscle.

Only when the footsteps had vanished completely at the far end of the mountain path did he finally open his eyes and let out a long breath.

A few more muffled explosions erupted from a distant hollow, shaking the locust leaves for a brief moment before the silence returned. A fresh streak of light blossomed in the distance.

Within the canopy, the dappled shadows shifted, fading and deepening with the passing time.

Some time later, a new set of footsteps approached from a distance, heading straight toward the old locust tree.

Then, a bloodcurdling scream!

The scream was incredibly short, cut off halfway like a man whose throat had been violently crushed.

It was immediately followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the ground, accompanied by a bright, cheerful laugh.

Chen Lingxi peered down through the gaps in the leaves.

There was another person beneath the tree—or, to be precise, another corpse.

The streak of light above the corpse's head was slowly rising, drifting off to the side.

Chen Lingxi's gaze followed the light.

Two figures stood in the clearing beneath the tree.

One of them was Sun Ninghu!

It was the very same "fierce beast" under County Princess Yunhe, the man tasked with breaking one of Chen Lingxi's legs!

He still wore his dark brown martial garb. The muscles in his thick arms bulged, and his fingers were half-curled like the claws of a tiger, blood still dripping from the tips.

Two streaks of light hovered above his head.

Sun Ninghu was currently panting heavily, his chest heaving violently. A vicious new saber wound, deep enough to expose bone, laid open across his right arm, gushing blood.

Standing opposite him was Qiu Chihu.

Qiu Chihu still wore his signature smiling expression. One hand rested on his saber hilt, while the other was casually clasped behind his back.

The crown of lights above his head was perfectly arranged, shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

Only now, there were fifteen of them.

He tilted his head at Sun Ninghu, studying him as if he were a mildly amusing toy.

"Ninghu?" Qiu Chihu said. His voice wasn't loud, but he dragged out the syllables in a tone of unconcealed disdain. "You could have called yourself anything, yet you had to call yourself the Fierce Tiger."

"I am the true tiger here."