Chương 70: Worse

A flurry of voice transmission talismans burst from Mo Jian's hand, streaking off in every direction. There had to be at least a score of them, and Bai Ning watched as nearly half curved back toward Daisai Island. The knot of worry in her chest tightened.

"Master?" she tried again, hoping this time he would answer. It had been an hour since they'd fled the island and left the tournament behind, and in all that time they hadn't slowed once. Worse, Master Mo Jian hadn't answered a single question, entirely absorbed in composing messages and sending them away. Bai Ning understood that the implications of what had happened were vast; staggering, even, but his silence was almost more frightening. Thankfully, he finally spoke.

"Sorry," Mo Jian said, eyes fixed ahead rather than on her.

"I needed to send those as quickly as possible." Then he turned, really looking at her at last. His expression mirrored her own anxiety.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently. What kind of answer could she give to that? No, of course she wasn't alright. Soon the entire island, and before long the whole region, would know she had consumed a False Core Pill. That alone would brand her an unorthodox cultivator. Worse still, she and her master had offended both Ancestor Qing – toward whom her feelings were now decidedly bitter – and Old Devil Fu. And beyond their immediate danger, what of her parents? Her sect? Everything she held dear?

It felt as though the world had collapsed around her. Mo Jian seemed to read at least some of that on her face, his own expression no less troubled. Still, he tried to comfort her.

"Don't worry. This… this is a storm that will eventually pass. We'll hide for as long as necessary, and then we'll leave the Islands entirely. They won't bother chasing us to the mainland." The words only made her feel worse. Running away to the mainland. Leaving her home, everything she knew, everything familiar behind. Was that truly their only option? She had taken the pill, yes, but was it really something worth ruining her life over?

Mo Jian's old words echoed in her mind: It may ruin your life, or it may do nothing. There is no way to tell. Karma is blind. She bit her lip. No, this had nothing to do with karma. This was politics, and she was nothing more than a victim caught between greater powers. Ancestor Qing, that so-called paragon of righteousness, had thrown her to the wolves without a moment's hesitation, breaking his word as easily as breathing.

The only mercy in all of it was that Master Mo Jian had had the foresight to hurl the divine treasure at Fu Zhan and wash their hands of it. Hopefully, the Nascent Soul cultivators would fight amongst themselves over the prize and waste their time rather than pursue her. And yet… if Ancestor Qing had truly wanted the treasure, he would have taken it on the stage. He hadn't then, which made it unlikely he would act now.

"Master," she said softly, trying once more, "my parents…" Mo Jian's expression hardened. He didn't bother with a comforting lie.

"I am hopeful they'll be allowed to leave without issue. They're too weak for any greater power to concern themselves with, and anything they could want from us, they already have. We're pariahs for now; holding your parents would serve little purpose." He gave a hollow chuckle.

"It's half the reason I insulted them to their faces, even knowing it might earn swift punishment. Better they focus on me than on you." That only made her feel worse. If only she hadn't taken that pill, she might not have ruined his life as well. But what good were recriminations now? None at all. She tried to draw a deep breath and exhale all her worries. It didn't help. Still, she forced herself to focus on what lay ahead rather than what had already gone wrong.

"What now, Master?" she asked quietly.

"Where are we going?" They had shot away from Daisai Island at Mo Jian's full speed, and the Heaven Enshrouding Ding was now carrying them recklessly fast in what seemed, to her, a completely random direction. Through the shell of azure light surrounding them, Bai Ning could make out the sea racing past below, waves rising and falling in endless symphony. The sun still shone overhead, though its light had taken on the warm hues of afternoon.

The air tasted of sea salt and distant mountain pines, and under any other circumstances it would have been a beautiful day. Now, the vista was poisoned by dread. Mo Jian turned his gaze forward.

"There's no point in choosing a direction. We're simply fleeing as far as possible. Once I judge we've gone far enough, I'll take us to the seabed and carve out a temporary bolt-hole, then seal it above us." He looked back at her, his expression grave.

"This will be true seclusion. It's the only way I can think of to escape." Bai Ning closed her eyes, unsure what to say. They were going to bury themselves beneath the seabed and remain there for months, perhaps years, until the storm passed. It was a sensible plan, yes, but it reminded her painfully of earlier times, when she had been forced to flee before greater powers. She pushed that thought aside and tried to focus instead on the practicalities.

"And the messages you sent?" Mo Jian shook his head without looking at her.

"I'm not expecting replies. At this stage, no one can be trusted, save for a very few. Most would sell us out without hesitation if it meant avoiding the displeasure of a Nascent Soul expert. As for the answers I need…" He paused, choosing his words with care.

"…we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." She had more questions, but one thought began clamoring louder than the rest.

"What if we returned to Cloud Veil Ridge?" she asked.

"If they allowed us to leave Daisai Island, they might not pursue us further. Maybe… maybe I could live as an unorthodox cultivator?" She didn't like the idea, yet she found herself wondering if accepting the label might have been the wiser choice. But then Ancestor Qing might have taken offense and killed her on the spot, or failing that, Old Devil Fu would surely have found a way to exploit her later. Mo Jian shot her a sharp, warning look.

"Don't let sentiment mislead you at a time like this. Returning to Cloud Veil Ridge would be nothing short of a death sentence. Even I don't fully understand the calculations behind what happened today, but one thing is clear: we are loose threads." He shook his head.

"And loose threads get snipped. No, hiding is our only path forward." Then his voice hardened.

"And don't even joke about becoming an unorthodox cultivator. It's better to leave the Islands behind entirely than to live as one." His tone brooked no argument, and she offered none. It wasn't that she disagreed after everything that had happened. She was simply being… sentimental. Below them, the waves streamed past as they hurtled through the air, Mo Jian burning qi without pause as he drove the Heaven Enshrouding Ding at its utmost speed. In his own mind, his thoughts churned with equal ferocity.

Even as he fled, he replayed the events at the arena again and again. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. If not for Fu Zhan… But was Fu Zhan truly the only one to blame? He had merely seized an opportunity, an opportunity that only existed because of Mo Jian and Bai Ning. If only she hadn't taken that pill… No. He would never say that aloud. The last thing Bai Ning needed was to feel accused. And hadn't he agreed in the end?

The pill was supposed to leave no trace, yet Fu Zhan had discovered the truth regardless. How? Some quirk of his cultivation? A secret art passed down from his grandfather? Who could say. At this point, it scarcely mattered. Mo Jian also suspected that the only reason Ancestor Qing had allowed them to leave was a lingering sense of responsibility. The man would have backed them, had backed them, until it became undeniable that Bai Ning had truly consumed a False Core Pill. Then he had hesitated.

Song Shaoyue had gleefully stepped into that moment of doubt, throwing her support behind Fu Zhan. If Ancestor Qing had felt no responsibility at all – after Bai Ning had fought beneath his banner, after Mo Jian had carried a token bearing his name – then he would have dealt with them on the spot. Instead, he had let them go, giving them a chance to flee. Perhaps, to him, the situation had been untenable as well. Or perhaps that was merely Mo Jian trying to put a kinder face on betrayal.

The truth was simpler and far harsher: he had made an enemy he could ill afford in the form of Old Devil Fu, and now he had no backing or help to depend on. They were alone. If this were Ye Chen, the hero would no doubt have produced some dazzling solution, slaughtered his enemies, and triumphed across realms. The thought was uselessly wistful. Mo Jian shook it away. He glanced down and judged the stretch of sea beneath them no different from any other. It would suffice.

"Hold on," he warned Bai Ning. She tightened her grip on one of the handles along the side of the ding, and then they plunged. The Heaven Enshrouding Ding cut cleanly through the water, sinking ever deeper as it continued its descent. The light around them dimmed, and the pressure steadily increased, though neither troubled them within the artifact's protective barrier.

The sea was deep here; it took a full fifteen minutes to reach the seabed, which lay smothered in darkness save for a faintly illuminated patch around them. Their arrival sent long plumes of silt billowing outward and flattened a swaying field of… coral? Seaweed? Mo Jian couldn't tell. He raised a hand, and an illusory copy of the ding streamed out from the one they rode, half-phasing into the seabed.

It expanded as it sank, growing larger and larger until only its lid, now as wide as an entire room, remained visible above the sediment. With another gesture, flames flickered to life within the ghostly vessel. The soil and rock enclosed by it were reduced to ash, and then the ash itself dissolved, leaving nothing behind. It was as though a translucent cauldron the size of a chamber had been buried in the seabed, its interior hollowed clean.

The real ding streaked forward, passing harmlessly through the illusory lid that now served as a ceiling over the newly carved space. Inside, Mo Jian and Bai Ning stepped off as the artifact shrank back to its usual size at his side. Bai Ning looked around, a flicker of her habitual curiosity returning despite herself. The walls curved gently outward, mirroring the ding's shape, and every surface – the floor, the walls – had been vitrified by the flames, smooth and glassy.

It felt like standing inside the hollow of a colossal cauldron, its ceiling an illusory lid hovering overhead. At least it was spacious. Mo Jian was already in motion. With a rapid series of gestures, the ding at his side split into five identical copies, each one reshaping itself midair into a formation flag. The flags shot outward, embedding themselves at different points around the chamber as Mo Jian erected a concealment formation. He didn't stop there. Two more formations were layered atop the first.

Only one of them Bai Ning recognized: the Ether Garden Formation. Her master was serious about hiding. Only after all three formations were complete did he finally relax and sweep his hand out once more. Blocky, roughly carved furniture spilled from his storage pouch and arranged itself across the glassy floor. There were a few chairs, a low table, two mismatched beds, a wooden partition; everything they had used while hiding near Blackrock Island. Bai Ning recognized it all.

She wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the familiarity. Her master had even kept this ill-made furniture from the last time they'd been on the run. She sank into one of the chairs and let her qi begin to cycle. She rarely meditated unless it was strictly necessary, but now she welcomed the comfort of it. She didn't want to talk. She didn't want to think. She just wanted space. Everything had collapsed around her.

Just that morning, she had been excited for the fight, wondering whether she would win and what that victory might feel like. Now, in a twisted way, she had gotten her wish. Everyone would soon know her name, only for all the wrong reasons. And what of her parents? She had never told them about the pill; she hadn't seen the need. What did they now think of their daughter, now that the truth was revealed? What of her friends? Li Kang, proud and righteous. Yue Shuangyi, regal and unyielding.

Even Chen Zhuhe; pragmatic, but with a firm moral core. Would they all think she was a fraud, someone who had fooled them into believing she was their friend? What of everyone else she knew? She opened her eyes, letting the flow of her qi fade into the background. Meditation wasn't helping. Across from her, Master Mo Jian sat in another chair, lost in thought. Should she interrupt him? And for what? She didn't have the energy to ask questions right now.

Instead, she searched for something, anything, to occupy herself with. Only one thing came to mind: the Netherworld Map. It was a maddening artifact, supposedly pointing the way to an entirely different domain. The map was a puzzle, inscribed in a long-lost language, and she had been struggling to decipher it for months. Normally, she disliked working on it, but at the moment it seemed perfect. Something difficult enough to drown out her thoughts.

Maybe it would clear her mind enough that she wouldn't feel quite so… lost. She stood, telekinetically drawing her stool over to the low table, and summoned the map from her storage pouch into her hand. Master Mo Jian didn't even look up, still wrestling with whatever thoughts plagued him. She bit her lip, hesitated, and then let it go. She didn't know what to say, or how to say it. The cheerfulness she usually wore like armor had deserted her, and pretending felt exhausting.

She sat again and focused on the infuriating map spread before her. Golden characters, utterly unfamiliar, skittered endlessly across its surface. She infused qi into her fingertip, pinning one of them in place before beginning the slow, painstaking work of dragging it into alignment with others, trying to form a sentence, a phrase, anything at all. With no understanding of the language's structure, it was nothing but trial and error. For the first time in what felt like forever, she lost herself in the task.

Even as she worked, her mind wandered. That fight with Fu Zhan, once the center of her world, now seemed almost trivial in light of everything else. It had been exhilarating. She had won, and in doing so reached a new stage in her sword technique. Every time she ascended a stage, she had felt mastery, only to discover later that it was fleeting. Yet now, she genuinely felt she could slip into that mindset in an instant. Not that it helped.

What could even the most refined technique do against the problems she faced now? She shook her head and tried to redouble her focus on the map. She dragged one golden character over, then another, then another, painstakingly attempting to form a coherent five-character string, sentence? phrase? -before it collapsed, the characters scattering across the surface. That had been close. Perhaps this arrangement would work instead?

She tried again, her fingers moving more deliberately this time, pressing one golden character into place, then another, as if coaxing them to obey her will. Slowly, a pattern began to emerge, something faint, something almost recognizable. Her pulse quickened. Maybe this was it. Maybe this time she was on the right track. Hours slipped by unnoticed. The room around her, with its vitrified walls, the faint glow of the illusory lid, and the perfectly silent seabed beyond, faded into the background.

Only the map and its elusive symbols existed. Her previous despair, the worry for her parents, the fear of the wider world, all became background noise. Even Master Mo Jian, sitting quietly in his chair, became part of that peripheral silence. So it was a complete shock when that bubble of focus was pierced by a tremor that shook the entire room. Master Mo Jian was on his feet in an instant, the Heaven Enshrouding Ding hovering around him, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Bai Ning scrambled up a moment later, summoning both her Crimson Parasol and her Green Karma Sword, useless though they might be against senior cultivators. The room shook again, though fainter this time, as if some titan were pacing on the seabed above, its footsteps echoing and fading with distance. A tense silence followed.

"That didn't feel directed at us," Master Mo Jian said finally, shoulders still tense.

"Maybe a wide-area search technique… and we just caught the aftershocks?" He sounded more like he was asking himself than speaking to her. Before Bai Ning could relax, the room shuddered violently again. This time, there was no doubt: it was targeted. A pulse of qi slammed across the seabed, sending plumes of silt swirling and tearing the fragile plants around them. The illusory lid of the Heaven Enshrouding Ding flared bright, blocking whatever force had struck. Master Mo Jian gestured.

The ding at his side split into another illusory copy, expanding to fill the room and merging with the first. The protective barrier thickened, reinforced to its maximum. The lid above them deepened from azure to a rich, nearly cobalt glow.

"They shouldn't know we're here," Mo Jian said, though his voice betrayed doubt.

"And it's not a Nascent Soul cultivator. That much is clear. Just who-" The question was cut off before he could finish. A voice boomed from outside, loud and mocking: "This Fu Zhan requests entry. Open up; I know you are there." Bai Ning's chest tightened. They had been found.