Song Xiaohe traveled through the night, walking for a full day and night before finally emerging from the rugged mountain range.
After covering nearly a hundred miles, she arrived at a town.
This was Song Xiaohe's first time descending the mountain.
Before entering the city, she washed her face and hands by the stream, then sat on the ground and pulled out a map.
The paper with the map imprinted on it was also a spiritual artifact.
It was something Liang Tan had attempted to craft in his youth, originally intending to create a teleportation artifact. However, due to his lack of skill, he only managed to produce a half-finished item that could only record travel routes.
As soon as the map was unfolded, Song Xiaohe saw a red line appearing on it, starting from the Immortal Alliance and heading westward.
This tracked the movement of the A-rank hunter in their team, indicating that the group had already left the Immortal Alliance and was traveling by vehicle toward the Ghost Realm.
With Song Xiaohe relying solely on her legs, there was no way she could catch up. She needed to rent a flying device.
But Song Xiaohe was poor, with only ten copper coins in her pocket.
Back on the mountain, she never worried about money or needed to buy anything. Now that she was down the mountain, everything required silver, and her top priority was to earn some.
Song Xiaohe refused to engage in shady dealings. She straightened her robes, picked up a long stick from the roadside, and unfurled a banner, writing on it: "Song's Divination, All Questions Answered."
Carrying it on her shoulder, she swaggered into the city.
It was early morning, with the sun just rising, and the streets were already bustling with people.
After wandering around the city, Song Xiaohe found a spacious spot, sat on a stone, and waited for customers to come her way.
Divination was a profound art, and Song Xiaohe had never studied it. However, when she was younger, she had learned some talisman-making for a few years and could draw simple protective charms to ward off evil spirits, which would suffice for ordinary folks.
She would ramble on and then hand over a protective charm, charging for the charm itself, so it wasn't exactly cheating.
It also wouldn't tarnish the reputation of the Immortal Alliance, so her master wouldn't scold her.
Song Xiaohe sat there, calculating how much to charge for each charm while waiting for customers.
However, her youthful appearance, with a face as if meticulously painted by a celestial brush, and her snow-white robe with black accents, gave her an ethereal aura.
She didn't look like a fortune teller but more like a well-dressed charlatan.
After waiting for half an hour, no one approached her.
As the sun rose higher, the streets grew livelier, but passersby only glanced at Song Xiaohe, rarely stopping.
Song Xiaohe maintained a calm expression, but inside she was frantic. She called out, "Come and get your fortune told! It's not expensive."
As soon as she waved, people thought the charlatan was getting desperate to scam them, so they quickly shook their heads and dispersed, leaving her ignored.
Song Xiaohe had always heard her master say that making a living down the mountain was difficult and that she should stay obediently on the mountain. She had never taken those words seriously before, but now she realized they were true.
She had been sitting on the stone for so long that her legs were sore. Just as she was about to move to a different spot, someone approached from the side.
At first glance, it was a woman wearing a dusty gray Daoist robe, her long hair tied up with a wooden hairpin. Her delicate face bore a sickly pallor, and she appeared to be around twenty-four or twenty-five years old.
She was half a head taller than Song Xiaohe and walked with a light, almost floating gait, as if she might be carried away by the wind at any moment.
Coincidentally, she also carried a banner, but it only bore a hastily scribbled character for "Divination."
Song Xiaohe immediately knew this person was just like her—a charlatan.
Even the writing on the banner was less neat than hers.
As she thought this, the woman walked up to her and uttered three words that left Song Xiaohe stunned.
She said, "Song Xiaohe."
Song Xiaohe's eyes widened. "You know me?"
She scrutinized the woman's face several times, certain that in her sixteen years of life, she had never seen this face or heard this voice before. Yet the woman had called her name without hesitation.
"Guessing a name isn't that special," the woman said with a faint smile. "Meeting is fate. Ten coins for a reading. Want to try?"
Song Xiaohe had just been thinking this woman was a charlatan, but after being called by name, she immediately believed the woman had some genuine divination skills and decided to give it a go.
She fished out all the copper coins from her sleeve—her entire fortune of ten coins—and handed them over. "Great diviner, please tell me if my journey will be successful and if I'll return safely."
The woman took the coins, crouched on a nearby patch of ground, and pulled out a palm-sized disk that looked soaked in ink, its markings completely illegible.
With a gentle motion, she spun the disk a few times and then said, "You will die."
Song Xiaohe was shocked. "What?"
The woman put the disk away and said softly, "It's an ominous reading. You have a fatal calamity before you turn seventeen."
Song Xiaohe's birthday was approaching, and her sixteenth year was almost over. Now, out of nowhere, someone was telling her she had a fatal calamity before turning seventeen.
Didn't that mean her journey was doomed?
Song Xiaohe said, "Give me my money back."
The woman wasn't offended. She shook her head and said, "Once the reading is done, no refunds."
Song Xiaohe wasn't happy. She pouted and asked, "You just spun that black thing a few times and casually made a conclusion. Did you even take this seriously?"
"Divination follows the principle of cause and effect. Since I took your money, I gave you a proper reading," the woman replied calmly, unbothered by Song Xiaohe's skepticism.
"No way," Song Xiaohe grabbed her hand, her eyes pleading. "Sister, please do another reading for me. Just say my journey will go smoothly, and I'll return safe and sound, maybe even with a man by my side!"
"I only do one reading a day," the woman said with a smile. "I won't do another for you, but since we're fated, I can help you with your current predicament."
"Really?" Song Xiaohe's eyes sparkled as she held the woman's hand, sweetly coaxing her. "Dear sister, I knew from the moment I saw you that you're a kind-hearted person, my destined benefactor! What should I call you?"
The woman folded her banner and said, "My name is Bu Shiyuan. You can call me Sister Yuan."
Under the bright spring sun, Song Xiaohe had descended the mountain pretending to be a charlatan, only to spend all her coins on an ominous reading and gain a traveling companion.
She was naturally talkative, and with someone to accompany her, she chatted from morning till night, learning all about Bu Shiyuan.
Bu Shiyuan was twenty-four years old, orphaned since childhood, and had been apprenticed to a master. After her master passed away three years ago, she began wandering the land, offering readings only to those she deemed fated.
She was frail, plagued by a chronic illness, and occasionally coughed into a handkerchief while speaking.
Sometimes the coughing fits were so severe that her neck and face turned red, and Song Xiaohe feared she might collapse, quickly patting her back to help her catch her breath.
They traveled during the day and slept in the open at night, spreading a cloth on the ground and lying down directly. It was spring, so the nights weren't cold.
Song Xiaohe lay by the fire, studying the map. The group she was tracking had stopped in one place three days ago, seemingly delayed by something.
Originally, Song Xiaohe would never have been able to catch up at her pace, but with them staying put for three days, she had closed the distance. She measured with her fingers and estimated that after half a day's travel tomorrow, she would reach the town where they were.
Song Xiaohe put away the map and rolled onto her back, gazing at the starry sky.
In the wilderness, the only sound was the wind, and the fire was their sole source of light. Beyond the reach of the flames was endless darkness, but a serene calm enveloped Song Xiaohe.
She blinked at the stars a few times and suddenly asked, "Sister Yuan, how accurate are your readings?"
From the other side came two faint coughs. "One hundred percent."
Song Xiaohe asked, "Have you ever been wrong?"
Bu Shiyuan seemed to shift her position, her voice soft. "If you're afraid, why insist on going?"
Song Xiaohe rested her head on her arms, swinging her feet. "When I was six, I fell in love with my junior brother. It's been ten years now. I know many people like him, but my feelings are different."
"So even though you know there's a fatal calamity ahead, you still want to go."
"Perhaps if I were truly on the brink of death, I would run away. But the thought of my junior brother possibly lying injured in that perilous place, waiting for someone to save him, makes it impossible for me to rest comfortably in the Immortal Alliance and wait for news," Song Xiaohe said. Her tone was calm, not particularly resolute, and after speaking, she yawned. "Let's sleep, Sister Yuan. We have to set off early tomorrow morning."
Bu Shiyuan remained silent.
The moonlight spilled across the ground, casting a pure glow over Song Xiaohe, who seemed to have fallen asleep. Only then did Bu Shiyuan speak. "My divinations have never been wrong."
The next morning, Song Xiaohe sprang up from the ground, packed her belongings, extinguished the fire, and continued her journey with Bu Shiyuan.
She was full of energy, skipping and hopping as she walked. Sometimes she would wander far ahead, only to pick a flower and run back to Bu Shiyuan's side.
After walking for two hours, the wind grew stronger, and the sky gradually darkened.
Bu Shiyuan draped a large cloak over herself, pulled up the hood, and wrapped a silk scarf around half of her face. "It's a sandstorm. We need to hurry and find shelter in the city."
Song Xiaohe crouched down halfway. "You walk slowly. Let me carry you."
Bu Shiyuan declined. "No need. Just keep moving forward. I'll catch up."
Song Xiaohe didn't insist. She took a cloak from her storage jade bracelet to shield herself from the wind and soon left Bu Shiyuan behind.
The further they went, the stronger the wind became, and the sand began to whip through the air, stinging their faces.
Song Xiaohe's delicate skin couldn't withstand the pain, so she cast a wind-blocking spell. Her mastery of spells was lacking, and the spell barely protected her face, and even then, it wasn't very stable.
Eventually, the entire sky turned yellow, and the sand in the wind grew thicker. Song Xiaohe quickened her pace, running as her robes flapped wildly in the wind. She reached the city gate just before noon.
Visibility was extremely low, and the sandstorm nearly buried the road ahead. Song Xiaohe couldn't see the path. She stood by the city gate and waited for a moment. Soon enough, Bu Shiyuan emerged slowly from the sandstorm.
She leaned on a long staff, the fierce wind pressing her cloak tightly against her slender, fragile frame. She looked so frail, as if she might collapse at any moment, yet she continued step by step until she reached Song Xiaohe's side.
"Let's go in," she said, her voice muffled as she covered her mouth and nose.
Song Xiaohe glanced at her with concern and followed closely. "Sister Yuan, you remind me of the sapling I planted in front of my house last year. Even though I watered and fertilized it every day, it always looked like it would die at the slightest change in weather. My master always said that sapling wouldn't survive."
It sounded like a motivational story, and Bu Shiyuan asked, "What happened in the end?"
"It didn't survive," Song Xiaohe said. "It was broken in half by the wind during a thunderstorm."
Bu Shiyuan: "...Alright. Once we're inside, stay quiet for now. Don't speak unless I tell you to."
Song Xiaohe: "Oh."
The sandstorm had reached a point where it seemed to blot out the sky. If not for Song Xiaohe's wind-blocking spell protecting her face, she wouldn't have been able to keep her eyes open. The world was enveloped in darkness, and nothing was visible. The streets were empty, with no pedestrians in sight, leaving only the howling wind.
Song Xiaohe stayed close to Bu Shiyuan as they slowly moved forward. After about fifteen minutes, they stopped in front of a house, and Bu Shiyuan knocked on the door with her staff.
*Thud, thud, thud—*
The dull sound was eerily out of place in the silence, adding a strange tension to the atmosphere.
After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a handsome young man who looked startled at the sight of the two women.
Bu Shiyuan said, "We're passing through and would like to rest here for a while. May we trouble you for shelter?"
The young man stepped aside enthusiastically. "Please, come in."
Song Xiaohe stepped inside, and the sound of the wind immediately ceased. Instead, she heard the low murmurs of two or three people talking. She looked around and saw a stone statue in the main hall, covered in spiderwebs, and cracks running along the beams. She guessed this must be an abandoned temple.
A barrier had been set up here, shielding it from the sandstorm and creating a quiet refuge inside.
She took a few steps further and saw that the temple was filled with people—around twenty of them, all dressed in ordinary clothes. The dim light outside made the interior even darker, with only a fire in the center providing illumination. Everyone sat around the fire, their shadows cast unevenly on the walls. A few people looked up at Song Xiaohe when they heard the noise, but most kept their heads down, pretending to sleep, while a couple whispered to each other.
The atmosphere was heavy, and everyone's expressions were grim.
Both Song Xiaohe and Bu Shiyuan had been walking through the sandstorm, and their clothes were filled with sand. Bu Shiyuan seemed unbothered and casually found a spot to sit, but Song Xiaohe couldn't stand it. She stood to the side, shaking the sand off her robes.
The real trouble was the fine sand in her hair, which couldn't be cleaned without washing it.
The young man who had opened the door for them stood nearby for a while, observing Song Xiaohe's predicament. He stepped forward and said softly, "Miss, let me help you."
Song Xiaohe looked up in confusion, and when their eyes met, the young man's face flushed slightly. He raised his right hand and recited an incantation.
A gentle breeze swept over her, passing through every strand of her hair, instantly lightening the weight on her head and leaving her feeling refreshed.
Song Xiaohe's eyes lit up. "That's amazing!"
The young man's ears and neck turned red at her straightforward praise. "You flatter me, miss."
Song Xiaohe was naturally sociable and talkative, able to strike up a conversation with anyone.
She pulled the young man down to sit with her and chatted for a while, learning that his name was Xie Gui, courtesy name Chun Tang, and that he was a disciple of the Cold Heaven Sect.
The Cold Heaven Sect was a prestigious name, ranked alongside the Mystic Sound Sect and the Immortal Alliance as one of the three great immortal sects of the mortal realm. What set the Cold Heaven Sect apart was their close ties to the royal family. Many members of the imperial family practiced cultivation within their ranks, and though Song Xiaohe didn't know much else, she had often heard from her master that the Cold Heaven Sect was the wealthiest of the three.
It was said that even their sect gates were inlaid with gold.
Song Xiaohe took another look at Xie Gui's clothes and accessories, which were indeed adorned with gold and jade.
She turned her head and carefully scanned the hall, quickly realizing why so many people were gathered here. It seemed that members of the Immortal Alliance and the Cold Heaven Sect had come together. Though the crowd made the space feel cramped, it was clear that the groups were subtly divided into two factions.
What remained unclear was whether they had met by chance or if the Immortal Alliance and the Cold Heaven Sect had planned to join forces from the start, each sending a group to the Netherworld.
Soon, Song Xiaohe learned why they had been stuck here.
Since entering this abandoned city, they had been unable to leave. For days, they had been wandering in circles. Even though there were experts in their group skilled in breaking formations, they couldn't detect any trace of a formation in the city. They had spent several days here without figuring out what was trapping them, and the situation was growing increasingly bizarre and inexplicable.
Today, they had encountered the sandstorm, which had completely obscured the sky and the road.
The Immortal Alliance had sent many skilled cultivators, and the Cold Heaven Sect was a top-tier sect, so their representatives were undoubtedly powerful. Yet, even with all these experts combined, they couldn't solve the mystery of being trapped in the city.
Just how strange was this place...
"May I ask your name, miss?" Xie Gui's gentle voice interrupted Song Xiaohe's thoughts.
He spoke slowly and politely, his demeanor reminding Song Xiaohe a little of her junior brother.
"My name is Song Xiaohe," she said, her mind drifting as she thought of her junior brother. "Like the small rivers and streams."
"Song Xiaohe."
Someone called her name, but the voice didn't belong to Xie Gui. It was familiar, though.
Song Xiaohe's ears perked up, and she turned to look behind her.
Not far away, a man lay on the ground, his head resting on his arms and his legs crossed. A thin book covered his face, its cover reading: *Divination Techniques*.
He tilted his head slightly, and a pair of striking eyes peeked out from under the book, looking at her. "You're fast. You actually caught up."
Song Xiaohe glared at him. "Why do I keep running into you?"
She had been so busy traveling and chasing after this group, and her free time had been consumed by thoughts of her master and junior brother, that she had almost forgotten about this man. Yet here he was, lying right behind her.
Shen Xishan didn’t show the slightest sign of having been trapped here for days. He remained leisurely and carefree, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, laced with mockery. “What a coincidence, isn’t it? Did you chase me all the way to my gates of hell, or did I arrive early at your narrow bridge?”
