Chapter Forty-Five: Into the Pit

After a fierce battle, both Tang Diexian and Liang Yan had expended a great deal of their spiritual power. In particular, Liang Yan had taken a wind blade to the back, blood streaming down his robes. Though the wound was not grievous, his appearance was rather pitiful.

Tang Diexian retrieved a healing pill from her storage pouch and gave it to Liang Yan to swallow. The two found an abandoned thatched hut in the mountains, where they sat in meditation to recover.

Liang Yan sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes closed, circulating his energy. Within him, the “Twin Fish Array” quietly revolved, slowly absorbing the ambient spiritual energy and converting it into golden and blue hues of power.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was already high in the sky, shining brightly outside. A few rays of sunlight slipped through the half-open window, warming his body. He took a deep breath, feeling the abundance of restored spiritual power within, and his mood lightened considerably.

“Tang Diexian’s healing pills are truly extraordinary. In just one night, the wound on my back has nearly healed.”

With this thought, he glanced to the side, only to find the hut empty—Tang Diexian had evidently already left. Liang Yan was unconcerned; with the cultivators who had infiltrated Yongle Town now eliminated, there was little danger for her to go out alone.

He rose from the bed and pushed the wooden door open. A crisp, cold breeze filled his lungs; though the first frost had just passed and winter had yet to arrive, the deep mountains remained chilly despite the rare clear sky.

He circulated his spiritual power, expelling the chill from his chest, then stretched lazily in the yard. Suddenly, footsteps approached. He turned and saw Tang Diexian.

Clad in white robes and skirt, she carried a mountain pheasant in her hand, vaulting over the courtyard wall to land before him.

Liang Yan laughed, “Senior Sister, you’re quite the character! You always avoid the gate, preferring to climb walls—just like at the Raifu Inn. It makes me wonder if doors have any use at all.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “Doors are paths others set for you. I don’t care how others walk; I simply refuse to enter by their way. Is that not allowed?”

Liang Yan thought, “You just want to save time,” but he only asked, “Why did you bring back a pheasant?”

“It’s for you—since you were wounded, I thought you might need a tonic. Hmph, even if you didn’t contribute much, you did work hard on this mission. Consider this a small reward.”

“So she left early to hunt wild game for me…” Liang Yan felt an unexpected warmth at her thoughtfulness.

By now, Tang Diexian had already begun plucking the pheasant with her Hundred Flowers Sword, cleaning and preparing it. She then took out firewood she had previously collected, spread it in the center of the yard, set up a rack, and with a flick of her fingers, lit the fire with a spell.

Her expression was earnest as she skewered the pheasant and began to roast it, sprinkling spices from several jars she had brought out.

Liang Yan asked, “Where did you get all these?”

“There’s a kitchen in the house. The original owner was a hunter—having these things is only normal,” she replied without looking up.

“I see.” Liang Yan watched her. Although she appeared earnest, it was clear she had never done this before—her movements were clumsy and unskilled.

Before she could ruin the pheasant entirely, Liang Yan intervened just in time, taking over the task of roasting the bird himself.

Soon, the little hut in the mountains was filled with a mouthwatering aroma, the sizzling of roasting meat echoing through the air. Fat dripped down the golden skin, releasing an intoxicating scent.

Tang Diexian pulled over a stool and sat to the side, her nose twitching as she eyed the golden-brown pheasant, practically drooling with anticipation.

Liang Yan chuckled, tore off a drumstick, and handed it to her. She snatched it eagerly, sniffed it, then took a bite—crispy on the outside, tender within, the meat rich and flavorful.

“It’s delicious!” she mumbled through a mouthful of roast.

Liang Yan, uncharacteristically proud, grinned. “Of course. Roasting meat isn’t just a matter of flipping it over a fire and slapping on some sauce. The craft lies in the details—for instance, with this mountain pheasant…”

Since leaving the old monk and joining the Star Pavilion, Liang Yan had always been reserved. But for some reason, this journey with Tang Diexian had loosened his tongue. Now, talking about his barbecuing “secret arts,” he grew especially animated.

His skills were inherited from his father, Liang Xuan, and honed further over a year’s travels with the old monk—so much so that he had perfected the craft. He shared every trick and tip with her.

Tang Diexian nodded eagerly as she ate, like a little chick pecking rice. By the time Liang Yan finished his explanation, most of the pheasant had disappeared into her stomach.

She glanced at the scant remains, a faint blush rising to her cheeks. She had hunted the pheasant to nourish Liang Yan, yet ended up eating most of it herself.

“It’s all his fault for being so good at this—I never imagined a simple roast pheasant could taste so heavenly,” she thought.

Fortunately, Liang Yan seemed not to mind; compared to the pheasant, he seemed to prefer their easy conversation.

Sunlight warmed the courtyard, surrounding the young man and woman, as if even the mountain chill was kept at bay.

“By the way!” Tang Diexian’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Those Cloud Concealment Society people spent two years scheming in the mine, all for some treasure inside. Why don’t we go have a look?”

Liang Yan shook his head. “They spent two years and still failed. Such a treasure can’t be easily taken. Our task is done—we should simply report back to the sect.”

“But didn’t Tang Tiannan say that their group only had one person with a basic grasp of formations? He set up some so-called Evil-Breaking Array to dispel the baleful energy inside. But as for a true genius in formations, isn’t one sitting right here?” She looked at Liang Yan, a sly glint in her eye. “Aren’t you curious what treasure lies below? I certainly am. Master Liang’s skills in formations are second to none, and your barbecuing is unrivaled as well. Surely you won’t abandon a lady in need?”

Liang Yan nearly choked on a chicken bone.

He coughed, exasperated. “Do I have any choice in the matter?”

…

Two days later, in front of the spirit mine southeast of Yongle Town, the young pair—Liang Yan and Tang Diexian—stood ready to investigate.

Tang Diexian looked at the entrance, excitement gleaming in her eyes. “We’ve been in Yongle Town so long, but never actually explored inside.”

Liang Yan nodded. “Tang Tiannan said it was only baleful energy within, but we can’t rule out the possibility that the Cloud Concealment Society set traps or mechanisms inside. We’d best make preparations.”

He poured out a pile of formation disks and flags from his storage pouch—loot taken from “Number Five.” Liang Yan busied himself arranging them in the open space, setting up a formation. After about the time it takes for a stick of incense to burn, he stood up. “Done. Let’s go in.”

Tang Diexian could hardly contain herself and stepped into the spirit mine first, with Liang Yan close behind. The moment they entered, a wave of chill swept over them.

“It seems the baleful energy here is truly dense. I wonder if there really is a treasure below,” Tang Diexian remarked.

They followed the mineshaft deeper, the cold intensifying until even the two of them felt it seep into their bones. At last, a wall appeared ahead.

“This is the end!” Tang Diexian announced.

Liang Yan nodded. “It must be here.”

Before them yawned a massive pit, slanting downward into the earth. Along the slope, an array had been set, holding back a visible torrent of baleful energy.

“The Geng Metal Evil-Breaking Array!”

Liang Yan’s eyes lit with recognition. “Whoever set this up was knowledgeable. The metal spiritual power here is dense—this array is well chosen. But some critical points were mishandled, so it can’t reach its full potential.”

“Can we fix it?” asked Tang Diexian.

“We should be able to. With this existing array, we’re spared much effort.” With that, Liang Yan and Tang Diexian descended into the pit to improve the “Geng Metal Evil-Breaking Array.”

Liang Yan’s mastery of formations was exceptional. It didn’t take him long to complete the improvements. He then circulated his spiritual power, sent out several seals, and three beams of spiritual light shot into the array’s core beads. The array activated, beginning to drive away the baleful energy below.

Relying on the array, they descended about sixty feet. The baleful energy grew ever thicker; even the fearless Tang Diexian began to frown.

Suddenly, Liang Yan’s waist vibrated. He frowned and pulled from his belt an octagonal compass—plundered from the green-robed “Number One” on their first day tracking.

The compass now shook violently, its needle spinning madly.

A nameless dread rose in Liang Yan’s heart. “This is bad!” he thought.

But before he could warn her, a flood of blood-red light surged from the depths of the pit, engulfing them like a sea of corpses and blood. In the blink of an eye, both had vanished without a trace…