Chapter 64: The Three Great Suns

On the slopes of the Fallen Mountain, there exists a soul-restoring jade. Even if one's soul is utterly scattered, it can be gathered anew; all the more so if the soul remains intact. These were things the bronze oil lamp understood well. Previously, its wick had been completely burnt out. At that time, Chen Huangpi had pleaded with the Abbess to save it, but here in these vast mountains, the Abbess could decide life and death with a single thought—there was never any need for such trouble. She had merely fused its avatar back into its main body, and so the lamp was easily revived.

But now, the Abbess was dead, her soul dissipating, and there was no one left to wield such power over fate. Thus, they could only seek out that soul-restoring jade. Yet, how to journey to the netherworld was a pressing question.

The bronze oil lamp spoke, "Since the upheaval of the heavens and earth, the connection between the Yellow Springs and the mortal world has been severed. Only when the Earth Dragon stirs and mud from the underworld surges back can one seize a chance to reach the land of the dead."

"No, no," the Fox Mountain God said in despair. "The Earth Dragon just turned, and who knows how long until it happens again. Will the Abbess’s soul endure until then?"

Indeed, the Abbess’s soul was powerful—its dissipation slow. But the turning of the Earth Dragon was a rare event, occurring only once every few centuries, and even then, the mud of the Yellow Springs did not always erupt forth. Two or three times in ten, if one was lucky.

Chen Huangpi understood well that both the bronze oil lamp and the Fox Mountain God spoke the truth. Yet, in his heart, he had already decided.

"The Tomb of the Buried Gods!"

Chen Huangpi spoke calmly: "The Tomb of the Buried Gods lies at the juncture between the mortal world and the Yellow Springs. When it was cast up to the surface by the Earth Dragon, it must have left a passage behind. If I wish to enter the underworld quickly, this is the only way."

The Yellow Calamity intended to open the Tomb of the Buried Gods, granting blessings to the strange beings of the vast mountains, offering each a chance to become a calamity themselves. That day, it had distributed to every evil spirit present a single grain of yellow earth. In ten days, one needed only to crush it—the dust would point the way. By Chen Huangpi’s reckoning, that time was nearly upon them.

The bronze oil lamp looked at Chen Huangpi, and for a moment, it felt as if its little companion had suddenly grown up. Yet it had its own concerns. Rather than lending its voice in support, it warned, "Chen Huangpi, have you thought this through? Even if there is a passage straight to the Yellow Springs, the dangers within are countless. That mud alone is deadly to us, let alone the underworld itself."

"The Yellow Calamity was once a mountain god, but with a touch of that mud, it became a monster."

"The Abbess is gone; you must think of your own safety."

Before Chen Huangpi could reply, the Fox Mountain God interjected, "No matter how dangerous, we must go. If the Abbess’s soul dissipates and she returns as an evil spirit, none of us will survive."

The Fox Mountain God trembled with fear and anxiety. The Abbess’s madness was already terrifying enough. Should she become an evil spirit, given her power, the whole world would become a playground for such beings. That would be the best-case scenario. Worse would be if they were devoured before even transforming.

The bronze oil lamp gave a cold laugh. "The Abbess will never become an evil spirit. She would return to life, but it would be the Third Abbess who comes back."

"And what difference does that make?" the Fox Mountain God said.

The lamp fell silent, at a loss for words. There was little difference, truly. The Third Abbess had been imprisoned in the old temple for who knew how long, and the first thing she would do upon release would likely be to exact vengeance on the lamp. If it perished, so too would its avatar that suppressed the old temple. Then the old temple would consume the Pure Immortal Temple and, in turn, the entire vast mountain range.

"Chen Huangpi, what do you think?" the bronze oil lamp asked.

The Fox Mountain God also looked to him. With the Abbess gone, only Chen Huangpi remained to make decisions for the Pure Immortal Temple; he was now the rightful master.

Chen Huangpi considered for a moment, then said slowly, "Huang Er, I know you care for me, but the Fox Mountain God is right. Whether for my master, for you, or for myself, no matter the danger, I must face it head-on."

His master had gone mad, claiming to have three masters within: the First, Second, and Third. When sane, she was as lucid as ever; when mad, she was utterly deranged. Should the Third Master die and be reborn, leaving the old temple, the First and Second would vanish. Only when all three were united would she return to her true self.

If he could not heal her, it was a failure of his own skill. But if he never even had the chance, Chen Huangpi could not accept such an outcome.

Sensing his resolve, the bronze oil lamp softened its tone. "Very well, if you are determined, then to the underworld we shall go. However perilous, I will protect you with my life."

The Yellow Springs might be no less dangerous than the old temple, and judging by the Death-Seeking Ghost’s words, something might have gone awry there. But this time, the lamp did not refuse.

"There’s still one problem," Chen Huangpi frowned. "If we find the passage, how do we avoid the splashes of mud from the Yellow Springs?"

The mud alone was sinister enough—once touched, there was no escape. In moments, one would become a monster. The Yellow Calamity had once been a mountain god, but after coming into contact with the mud, had transformed—becoming cruel and devouring its own followers.

Even the bronze oil lamp dared not touch the mud, only avoid it. Chen Huangpi looked to the lamp, but it remained silent. He turned to the Fox Mountain God, who only shook its head and sighed. Clearly, neither had any solution.

At that moment, Chen Huangpi suddenly felt a chilling aura emanating from the Soul-Capturing Register hidden in his clothes. The coldness swept over him, clearing his mind. Simultaneously, a familiar voice sounded in his heart.

"Master, I hear you wish to descend into the Yellow Springs?"

It was the Death-Seeking Ghost.

Chen Huangpi’s eyes lit up. In the next instant, curling yellow mist billowed from the register, coalescing at his side. Within the mist, the ghost’s enormous skeletal head emerged.

"A’Gui," Chen Huangpi said urgently, "we need to reach the underworld, but the Yellow Springs are too dangerous. We don’t know what to do."

"You are living beings of the mortal world—of course you are helpless against the Yellow Springs," the ghost replied. "But I was born from the Yellow Springs, I crawled from the underworld. The Yellow Springs are my mother; they will not harm me. I can carry you safely across."

"Thank you, A’Gui," Chen Huangpi said, moved.

The ghost shook its head. "My true form has been gnawed to this state. Only by returning to the Yellow Springs can I recover. I have been away too long. I wish to see home once more. It’s I who should thank you."

At these words, the bronze oil lamp finally regarded the Death-Seeking Ghost with respect. A sensible spirit, it thought—well worth the praise it had given on its behalf.

But then the ghost looked at Chen Huangpi, who was visibly relieved, and added, "Don’t rejoice too soon. I can take you to the Yellow Springs, but I suspect something has changed there. If I am right, even once we arrive, every step will be fraught with peril."

Chen Huangpi frowned. "A’Gui, if you say so, then you must have a way?"

"Indeed," replied the ghost.

"Descendants of Di Ting," it said slowly.

The descendants of Di Ting—those were the Golden Horn and Silver Horn, gatekeepers of the Sutra Pavilion. They wandered the underworld, able to hear its voice. In ancient times, cultivators would rely on the descendants of Di Ting to find lost treasures or the souls of loved ones.

But the bronze oil lamp shook its head vigorously. "Impossible, impossible! Golden Horn and Silver Horn are in the old temple—they cannot be brought out."

But Chen Huangpi was resolute. "They can be brought out. If they die and are reborn, like the Demon Tree."

"And how are they to die and be reborn?"

Chen Huangpi and the Death-Seeking Ghost exchanged glances and spoke as one: "The Dog-Taming Sutra!"

"The Dog-Taming Sutra?" The bronze oil lamp’s eyes widened. "That sinister art can make them die and be reborn?"

If so, what if it were passed on to the Third Abbess? That would be a grave betrayal. The lamp shuddered and quickly dismissed the thought.

Chen Huangpi, unaware of the lamp’s internal struggle, pondered the art’s effects as he paced around the hearth. The Dog-Taming Sutra was indeed sinister. Unless both master and hound released each other, the hound could never be free—not in life, not in death. More cursed still: alive, they were the master’s dog; dead, still the master’s dog.

He stopped, then spoke, "If they become my dogs, and I then slay them with a single stroke, even in death, they will serve me. That might be considered rebirth after death. But there is one problem."

"And what is that?"

"I don’t know whether, after it’s done, what returns will be a monster or something else entirely."

Golden Horn and Silver Horn were not quite monsters, but not quite spirits. The meaning of 'something else' was that, upon becoming monsters, they would suddenly halt, fixed in a state between the living and the monstrous. Dying and being reborn might shatter that balance. What they would become, no one could say.

The bronze oil lamp heaved a sigh of relief and laughed. "That’s simple enough. We’ll experiment with one first. If it fails, we have another. If both fail—well, such is their fate!"

"That won’t happen," Chen Huangpi explained. "It’s even odds, but with two, our chances are as good as certain."

Elsewhere, in the old temple, it was now daytime. By day, the old temple and the Pure Immortal Temple existed apart; only at night did the old temple emerge.

At this moment, three great suns hung over the old temple—one purple, one white, one blue. The three vied for supremacy. Beneath them, the stone slabs of the old temple trembled, blue smoke rising from the cracks. The smoke covered the entire temple. Within it, shadowy figures—part god, part demon—howled in madness, distortion, and pain. They were the abandoned monsters of the old temple: calamities, tribulations, and worse.

With every wail, the blue sun’s light grew, overpowering the purple and white. At the Sutra Pavilion’s door, the two strange beasts, Golden Horn and Silver Horn, clung to each other, shivering.

"Brother, did you see that? In the heart of the sun…"

"There’s nothing there," Golden Horn said, eyes tightly shut, voice trembling. "I see nothing, nothing at all. The mortal world is far too frightening. I want to go back to the underworld—that’s where I belong."