Chapter 45: The Ghost City

The wilderness stretched out in every direction under a half-dark sky, the evening stars just beginning to hold their own against the fading light.

A flash cut through the air, and a dozen bodies hit the ground in a heap, groans overlapping one after another.

Bai Shuo came down like her legs were filled with sand, and only Fan Yue catching her kept her upright. Her head was still spinning when she noticed Nan Wan turning to look back at them — she grabbed Fan Yue and hauled them both down instantly, letting out a groan she made sure sounded thoroughly convincing.

She'd nearly forgotten. Mu Mu was a great demon. The Formation wouldn't have touched him at all.

Nan Wan turned, and his eyes settled on the master and disciple pair with a slight frown. Had he imagined it, or had the Daoist just yanked the young man down deliberately?

Even his own Cloudsoar disciples were struggling to steady themselves after crossing through the Formation's spatial disturbance. How was this boy standing there looking more or less fine?

"The Transmigration Stone truly lives up to its name. I'm grateful Your Excellency warned us to guard our spiritual cores beforehand, or this humble Daoist would be in a sorry state right now…" Bai Shuo swayed to her feet, eyes unfocused, playing up every last tremor.

Fan Yue stood quietly behind her, his face drained of color.

In a spot no one could see, Bai Shuo was digging her nails into Fan Yue's palm with everything she had. Her slow disciple finally understood. He circulated his Qi inward, and the remaining color drained from his face completely.

Nan Wan's suspicion softened. He swept his gaze over his disciples instead.

"On your feet. All of you."

The disciples clambered up in varying degrees of dignity. Before anyone could say another word, a rough, high-pitched voice ripped through the air.

"What in the — where are we? What's going on?"

Every head turned. There, crouched at the edge of the group, was a face that didn't belong — thick green-painted brows, skin powdered white, lips smeared an aggressive red. The disciples flinched back. Even Nan Wan took two involuntary steps away.

But Hua Da Tie had already locked eyes on Bai Shuo. She shot to her feet and launched herself forward. "Well, look who it is! You rotten Daoist! You made me a promise last night and then just vanished — you think I'm stupid enough to let that go?!"

Bai Shuo was throwing desperate looks at Hua Hong with her eyes, but Hua Hong just glared right back. "What's with all the blinking? Is your conscience eating you alive or did you just go cross-eyed?"

Bai Shuo had nothing to say to that.

Behind her, Nan Wan's voice came through, cold and precise. "Who are you? You have some nerve stepping into Cloudsoar's Formation uninvited."

The disciples drew their swords together, a dozen blades angling toward Hua Hong in one smooth motion.

That was when Hua Hong finally turned around. She saw ten immortal swords pointed directly at her, and every bit of bluster drained out of her enormous frame at once. "D-d-damned Daoist," she stammered, suddenly very quiet, "what exactly have you gotten me into this time?"

"Please, my lords, this is all one big misunderstanding!" Bai Shuo shook herself free and stepped between them, waving both hands. "This Hua Xiaomei is completely harmless, I swear it."

Hua Xiaomei. The disciples stared at the mountain of a woman in front of them and found, collectively, that they had no words.

Nan Wan's eyes narrowed on Bai Shuo. "You know her?"

"Of course! Hua Xiaomei is my neighbor back in Nanhai City. She's a blacksmith, well known in the area, very reputable. We had a small falling out last night, and she must have wandered into the Formation's range while she was looking for me. Pure accident, truly."

"Last night. A falling out." Mingxin muttered, glancing between Bai Shuo and Hua Hong with a look that was working something out. "She wouldn't happen to be your…"

"No, definitely not—"

"Oh, that's right! I'm her—" Hua Hong seized Bai Shuo's hand and winked at Mingxin so aggressively her whole face scrunched up.

Her grip was like a pair of forge tongs. She shot Bai Shuo a look underneath the wink that said: play along or suffer. Loud and reckless Hua Hong might be, but she wasn't a fool. These people were clearly powerful, and they were treating this shabby Daoist with real deference. Staying alive came before pride.

Nan Wan looked at Bai Shuo, tone careful. "Daoist Bai. Is what Hua… this woman is saying — accurate?"

"Yes." The word squeezed out of Bai Shuo through slightly clenched teeth. She turned, stiff-necked, to face Nan Wan. "Your Excellency, she means well but has no sense of direction. She only ended up here because she was trying to find me. I'd be deeply grateful if you could arrange to have her sent back to South Sea City."

Nan Wan's expression shifted. His eyes moved to the dark horizon. "She can't go back. We've already arrived." He paused. "The city is sealed."

Bai Shuo went still. The Cloudsoar disciples gathered their Qi to test it, and the result landed like a stone — their spiritual power had flatlined. They were running on barely more strength than a half-immortal could manage.

Only then did Bai Shuo notice the wind — cold and bone-dry, carrying the smell of dust and nothing else. She looked up.

Stars. A clear, still sky full of them.

And ahead, the walls of a city, ancient and enormous, a single stark character carved into them: Yi. The whole place exhaled desolation.

Was this the legendary Yi City?

Something was wrong. With disciples from both the Immortal and Demon Races gathered here from across the Three Realms, there should have been noise, at minimum — lanterns, people, the low hum of a city under occupation. And as one of the three immortal mountains, Cloudsoar Mountain surely warranted some manner of welcome at the gate.

To seal the city without so much as a word sent ahead?

"Move." Nan Wan frowned but asked nothing more. He turned and led the group toward the gates.

The Cloudsoar disciples fell in close behind him. Bai Shuo grabbed Fan Yue's wrist with one hand and Hua Hong's arm with the other and hauled them both along. The city ahead was dark and said nothing welcoming. For now she'd stay close to Nan Wan, get her bearings, and wait for word of A-Zhao.

Far overhead, the moon hung pale over Phoenix Isle, over the Wutong tree's canopy.

At midnight the night before, Jin Yao had activated the Spirit-Locking Formation that Mu Guang had laid down, sealing Yi City entirely. The hall and mountain masters had each returned to their own quarters to wait out the three days. One of those days was already gone.

In the Roosting Phoenix Pavilion, Jin Yao sat across from Elder Feng Xian of the Phoenix Clan, a Go board between them.

"Yi City has kept itself walled off from the Three Realms for generations," Feng Xian said, moving a stone and stroking his beard. "The Yi King has never hidden his contempt for both races. So why choose this city for the Martial Banquet? And why would he agree to it?"

The Wutong Martial Banquet had been held on Phoenix Isle for a thousand years. The Cold Spring Palace had pushed to change the format this time, but the location and the method had been Jin Yao's decision alone.

"A month ago, the Yi King sent a letter to the Heavenly Palace," Jin Yao said, unhurried.

Feng Xian looked up. "What did he ask for?"

"He wants the Yi People to be able to move through the Three Realms. To build real ties with both races."

Feng Xian's expression changed slowly. The Yi King had spent millennia keeping his city shut, holding his distance from immortals and demons with the same cold consistency. A change like this could only mean one thing — he was thinking of his people, not himself. Feng Xian felt the weight of it settle somewhere in his chest. He shook his head. "The prejudice runs deep on both sides. What the King wants may be very hard to give."

"Which is exactly why I chose this place." Jin Yao set down a stone. "The Yi People are difficult, yes. But they are also straightforward and without cruelty. The participants in this trial are the best of the younger generation from both races. If they can manage to share this city without conflict, it becomes easier for the Yi People to find their footing out in the world." He exhaled slowly. "I hope these young ones can rise to it."

"A kind thought." Feng Xian smiled. "May they prove worthy of it."

Jin Yao lifted a hand. A water mirror shimmered into existence beside the board, showing Yi City from above. The streets were lit and full of life — Yi People moving around bonfires, singing, their voices rising and falling in patterns old as the city itself. The Fairy and Demon disciples were mixed in among them, and no one seemed to be causing trouble.

The two men looked at each other. Something in both their faces eased.

Jin Yao let the mirror dissolve and turned back to the game.

A thousand miles away, Bai Shuo was walking with Fan Yue's hand wrapped tightly in both of hers, and she was more unsettled with every step, the unease spreading up from her feet through her legs until her knees felt uncertain.

The city was silent in a way that had no business being natural. There were a few lights — here and there, faint ones — but beyond the sound of their own footsteps, nothing. No voices. No movement. The place felt hollow, the way a room feels when something has just left it.

Even if every Yi household had bolted their doors in disgust at the intruders, there were still the Fairy and Demon disciples to account for. A hundred of them, at least, all here to find the Phoenix Tree Heart before the three days ran out. That kind of urgency didn't go quiet. People scrambling for a Spiritual Artifact made noise.

So where was everyone? And where was A-Zhao? The question was a hook in Bai Shuo's chest.

"Senior Brother." Mingxin's voice was low, directed at Nan Wan before Bai Shuo could say anything. "Something isn't right." The Cloudsoar disciples had drawn their swords without anyone giving the order, holding them close.

The group happened to stop in front of an inn. It was one of the only buildings in the street still showing light — two red lanterns hung at the entrance, swaying in the dry wind.

"Inside," Nan Wan said.

Mingxin went ahead, sword out, and pushed the door open with his shoulder. It creaked wide. The hall beyond was lit up and completely empty. A cold draft came through and set the entrance lanterns swinging.

The Cloudsoar disciples pressed closer to each other. Stripped down to the dregs of their spiritual power, these usually imperious Immortal cultivators were finding the dark a great deal less comfortable than usual.

Bai Shuo's spine was doing something unpleasant. Fan Yue took her hand, and when she looked up into his quiet, steady expression, some of the crawling feeling receded.

Hua Da Tie, standing just beside them, glanced between the two of them with an unreadable look — then shoved herself into the gap between them without ceremony. She turned in a slow, wild-eyed circle, then let out a screech that cut right through the silence. "You absolute fool! What kind of cursed place is this?! Not one living soul anywhere — are they all dead somewhere?!"

It was badly timed and completely graceless. It also broke the dread hanging over the group like a slap across the face.

Nan Wan turned toward the three of them with a frown. Bai Shuo dug her elbow into the blacksmith's side. "Quiet. Speak less." She looked back at Nan Wan. "Your Excellency, the city really is strange. There's no one—"

A streak of sword light dropped from the upper floor.

It split apart as it fell, a dozen beams fanning out and driving straight for the Cloudsoar disciples.

"What in the—!" Bai Shuo threw herself backward.

"What the—!" Hua Da Tie screamed at the exact same pitch, the two of them perfectly synchronized in their terror. Bai Shuo grabbed for Fan Yue to drag him down with her, but Fan Yue was already faster — his arms closed around her, turning her away from the incoming blades and putting his own back toward them without a second's hesitation.

The sword beams were close. Hua Da Tie threw her arms over her own head and wailed.

A ring of metal, clean and definitive — Nan Wan's Immortal Sword swept out and caught every last beam midair, scattering them into nothing.

Bai Shuo hauled Fan Yue and Hua Da Tie both behind the line of Cloudsoar disciples and stayed there.

Nan Wan planted himself at the front of the group. His sword hand had a faint tremor in it from the impact. His eyes were fixed on the upper floor, voice absolutely level. "Which sect sends its disciples to attack from the shadows? Show yourself."

Whatever had launched those beams had unmistakably been an Immortal. Under Yi City's spiritual suppression, the number of people capable of a strike like that was very small.

A figure came down the stairs. He was a plain-looking man in white robes with a white sword and an expression so utterly neutral it was almost unsettling. He moved without hurry. As he descended, the closed doors along the upper corridor swung open one after another, and disciples from various Immortal sects leaned out from each one, swords angled down at the Cloudsoar group.

Nan Wan's jaw tightened. His voice came out measured and cold. "The Phoenix Tree Martial Banquet hasn't even properly begun. Is Kunlun already moving to wipe out Cloudsoar before it does?"

Every eye in the room drifted to the white-robed man as he stepped off the last stair and landed lightly in front of Nan Wan.

"Nan Wan of Cloudsoar?" he said.

"That's right." Nan Wan's tone carried a bite underneath the calm. "I've spent years hearing that Kunlun's Bei Chen walks a straight and honorable path. I find myself wondering now exactly what people meant by that."

From behind Fan Yue, Bai Shuo poked her head out and swept a quick look across the disciples still filing down from the upper floor.

No A-Zhao. Her eyes settled on Bei Chen. Compared to the Cloudsoar disciples in their fine blue robes, Kunlun's head disciple in his plain whites looked like he'd chosen austerity as a point of pride.

"How did you get in?" Bei Chen's gaze moved slowly across the Cloudsoar group before returning to Nan Wan.

Nan Wan stiffened slightly before his expression hardened into indignation. "Cloudsoar is one of the Three Great Mountains. Am I not permitted to attend the Wutong Martial Banquet as my sect's representative?"

"The Martial Banquet began yesterday," Bei Chen said. "Yi City was sealed at midnight. Today is the second day." His voice carried no particular feeling about any of it. "The Spirit-Locking Seal is His Majesty Mu Guang's own formation. Below divine status, no one enters and no one leaves."

The pieces fell into place for the other disciples. Someone who could break into a sealed city wasn't just suspicious — they were a genuine threat. For all anyone knew, these could be spirits wearing Cloudsoar faces.

"That's not possible." Nan Wan's composure cracked slightly. "Today is the first day. That's not something I would misremember."

Bai Shuo was quietly stunned as well. She'd traveled here with Nan Wan — she knew he wasn't lying. But Bei Chen had no reason to make this up, and neither did any of the sect disciples standing behind him. One day couldn't just disappear. Why was there a gap between what Nan Wan knew and what everyone else was saying? If the Cloudsoar group hadn't entered yet, why had the island elders sealed the city? And if the city had been sealed, how had they walked right through?

The Transmigration Stone. Something about it had gone wrong.

Bei Chen studied Nan Wan carefully, weighing the sincerity in his face, then frowned. "Then explain how you bypassed the Seal."

Before Nan Wan could answer, a hand went up timidly from somewhere in the Cloudsoar group. "I think I might know."

The room looked toward the voice. A bedraggled Daoist was peering out from behind a young man, one arm half-raised. "Lord Bei Chen — we used a Transmigration Stone to travel here."

"A Transmigration Stone." Bei Chen paused. His eyes moved to Nan Wan.

Nan Wan exhaled. "Yes. That's correct. I've been in seclusion at Cloudsoar preparing for the Banquet. Our Master provided the stone to spare the disciples the fatigue of sword flight. I've never used one before — it must have warped our sense of time in transit."

The reaction among the other sect disciples was less composed. They'd flown for days to reach this wilderness, burning through their spiritual energy, only to have it sealed away the moment they arrived. They'd limped in on empty. The Cloudsoar disciples had been deposited here in a heartbeat and looked like they'd just woken from a comfortable nap.

Cloudsoar's sect leader was using money to sidestep the rules. The muttering was mostly just air through clenched teeth — no one was going to say it to Nan Wan's face. Cloudsoar was Cloudsoar. Kunlun was full of cultivators who'd voluntarily given up comfort. The gap between them wasn't something a disapproving look was going to close.

Unlike the murmuring behind him, Bei Chen said nothing further on it. His attention had already shifted. It landed on Bai Shuo and her two companions and stayed there.

"You're not Cloudsoar disciples. Who are you?"

The three of them stood out even in a room that already contained Hua Da Tie's painted face, and that was saying something.

"Guest Elders of my sect." Nan Wan's brow twitched — every muscle in his face fighting the urge to shove that blacksmith out the door — but he held his ground. He couldn't let Bei Chen's sword-sense pick through Bai Shuo's identity right now. "Is Kunlun in the habit of questioning who Cloudsoar chooses to travel with?"

The disciples from the smaller sects exchanged looks. Cloudsoar disciples were famously contemptuous of anyone below full Immortal status. Nan Wan treating half-immortals as Guest Elders was one thing — doing it at the Martial Banquet, of all occasions, was another. These three clearly weren't ordinary. But with Cloudsoar's weight behind them, no one was going to say that aloud either.

Bei Chen gave the three of them a brief look. Then he left it alone. Kunlun favored action over words — he'd already tested Nan Wan with the sword strike and read what he needed to know. Everything beyond that was Cloudsoar's business.

"Then Cloudsoar may proceed as they see fit." He turned and was gone, footsteps on the stairs, a door opening and closing, and a light going out.

That was it? Bai Shuo nearly let out a laugh at the expression on Nan Wan's face.

She'd heard for years that Kunlun's Bei Chen had no interest whatsoever in the social niceties that kept cultivator relationships functional. Watching it happen in person was genuinely better than every account she'd ever received.

Nan Wan's face had gone rigid. Bei Chen had pulled a sword on them without warning and then walked away without another word — that was Cloudsoar's standing being ground into the floor, and there was nothing to be done about it.

The disciples who'd drawn their swords on the Cloudsoar group scrambled to smooth things over before anyone made a decision about retaliating. "Immortal Lord Nan Wan, Lord Bei Chen's manner is — well, he's always like that. Please don't take it personally. Yi City has been strange from the moment we arrived. We're all on edge."

"Dao Brother Mingxin of Cloudsoar — a pleasure." Mingxin stepped in while Nan Wan was still working his jaw. "Could you tell us what the situation in Yi City actually is? We came in to find the streets completely empty. Has anyone made contact with the Yi King yet?"

Nan Wan would normally have considered only Bei Chen worth speaking to among any other sect's disciples. But Bei Chen was a wall with a sword, and their inexplicable day's delay meant they knew nothing of what had happened since the Banquet started. He kept his silence and let Mingxin handle it.

"Dao Brother Mingxin." The disciple gave a proper bow and then let out a long, tired breath. "You wouldn't know — none of us have seen the Yi King. Not once since we arrived."

Mingxin blinked. "Not at all?"

"Not at all. We assumed that since the King agreed to host the Banquet, he'd at least make an appearance. But when we arrived yesterday, only his deputy Wu Zhao came out to greet us. He said that the Immortal Realm's decree couldn't be refused, but the Yi King had recently entered seclusion and was unable to receive guests of either race. The Phoenix Tree's Spiritual Artifact is already somewhere in the city — we're meant to find it on our own. Wu Zhao passed along one rule directly from the Yi King: we may enter, but any harm done to a single Yi citizen means immediate expulsion. No exceptions."

Nan Wan's expression darkened. The Yi King had agreed to this. To behave like this after making that agreement was a deliberate slight.

"And the Yi people themselves have been no warmer. You know how they are — they've carried their grudge against both races for longer than most of us have been alive. Yesterday when we first came in, we nearly came to blows with them in the street. The Yi King's palace stepped in before it escalated, but it was close. By nightfall they'd all gone inside and bolted their doors. The empty inns on this street were prepared specifically for us by the Yi King — something of a concession. This one's the largest, which is why Lord Bei Chen is here. Other sect disciples have scattered to the smaller inns. As for the Demon Race — Mu Jiu hasn't arrived yet, from what I can tell. Just a handful of minor figures. Nothing Cloudsoar needs to concern itself with."

So that explained the dark streets. The Yi people had retreated inside rather than share their city with people they despised, and the disciples of both races were boxed into a handful of lit buildings trying not to look at each other.

But something nagged at Bai Shuo. If the Yi King hated both races so deeply, why had he agreed to the Heavenly Palace's request at all? The pieces didn't connect cleanly.

"Mu Jiu of the Fox Tribe hasn't come?" Mingxin straightened. He'd assumed Cloudsoar was the last to arrive. The Demon Race's strongest contender for the Phoenix Tree Spiritual Artifact not even being in the city yet was not what he'd expected.

"The Fox Tribe is shrewd. He may well have come in quietly and chosen not to be seen," Nan Wan said, voice low and even. "The Yi People have kept themselves sealed for a thousand years. Their coldness is predictable — if they stay out of things, we can focus our attention on the Demon Race without restraint, and no Yi citizens get caught in the middle. The Yi King has no grievance to carry over that."

Perhaps that was precisely the calculation behind the choice of this place.

"The night is late. Everyone should rest. The search continues tomorrow." Nan Wan's voice carried easily across the room. "Whichever sect finds the Phoenix Tree Spiritual Artifact first — as long as it doesn't end up in demon hands, it's good news for all of us."

It was graciously phrased. Everyone in the room understood what it actually meant. Between Cloudsoar and Kunlun, only one of them would walk away with the Artifact, and Nan Wan had just neatly redirected every sect's attention toward the common enemy.

He turned and went upstairs. His eyes dropped briefly to Bai Shuo on the way. Mingxin read the look, spent two minutes efficiently sending the other sect disciples back to their own rooms, and then gestured for Bai Shuo to follow.

Fan Yue refused to be left downstairs, and Bai Shuo was too tired to fight him. Hua Da Tie had been frightened into a state of total docility by the sword beams earlier and clamped herself to Bai Shuo's other side like a burr, iron hammer clutched against her chest, absolutely immovable. Mingxin would have liked nothing more than to shake both of them loose and pitch them into the street, but he held his tongue. Even Bei Chen had spent a full day inside Yi City and come away with nothing. This peculiar fortune-teller was the last card Cloudsoar had left to play.

The door closed behind them.

Nan Wan turned. Resting in his open palm was a single dry, withered branch — a cutting from a Phoenix Tree. He looked at Bai Shuo steadily. "Let's begin, Daoist Bai. Show me what you're actually capable of."