Chương 75: Chapter 74: Mirror

Bai Ning took a step forward into the grass. Dry, yellowing stalks brushed softly against her knees, their papery edges whispering as they bent and straightened again in the wind. The sound was faint and constant, like the hush of distant surf. The grassland stretched outward in every direction, an endless sea of gold washed pale by age and sun.

Here and there, taller growth rose in loose clusters; thick, head-high copses that resembled small, forgotten forests, scattered across the plain with no pattern or purpose. There was nothing else. No stones or other landmarks; only grass, and the slow, patient movement of it. The sky before her, behind her, and to either side was a flawless blue: smooth, empty, and unnaturally clean.

No clouds drifted across it, and no sun could be found, yet the light was even and unwavering, as if the world itself were illuminated from nowhere. The air carried neither warmth nor chill, only a still, neutral presence against her skin. But directly above her, there was no sky at all. Instead, the world turned inward on itself. Where the heavens should have been, another grassland hung inverted, a perfect reflection of the one beneath her feet.

The grasses there grew downward, their tips pointing toward the earth, swaying in a wind she could not feel. And standing among them was another Bai Ning, gazing "down" with the same quiet stillness with which Bai Ning looked up. It was not quite a mirror, more like a pause in reality, a held breath between two identical moments. At the place where the two worlds met, the blue of the sky deepened into a single, unbroken band of dark cobalt, sharp and absolute.

It marked a horizon she instinctively knew should not be crossed; a calm and final boundary, reminiscent of day gently giving way to night, or a life momentarily brushing against its own reflection. The sight was unsettling, but not unnerving. It felt solemn rather than threatening, like standing in a vast, quiet hall after a ceremony had ended, when the last echoes had not yet faded and the weight of what had passed still hung in the air. Mo Jian stumbled beside her.

Bai Ning tore her gaze away at once, instinct moving faster than thought as she reached out to steady him. Above her, the reflection mirrored the motion precisely; another Bai Ning helping another Mo Jian regain his footing, their movements perfectly aligned across the impossible divide. He looked terrible. The calm composure he usually wore like a second skin was all but gone.

One hand was pressed tightly against his abdomen, fingers digging in as though holding something together by sheer will, while the other was slick with sweat when it brushed against her sleeve. His breathing was shallow and uneven. That they were both still alive after facing a Nascent Soul cultivator bordered on the miraculous; it was no wonder his condition was so poor.

And yet, when he spoke, it was not to speak of the fight or his wounds, but rather-"Don't stare too long at what's above us," he said, voice tight but controlled.

"And whatever you do, don't fly upward. The longer you look, or the closer you get, the stronger the pull becomes. If we cross that boundary…" He paused, swallowing.

"We won't come back. We'd be trapped on the other side forever." A chill ran through Bai Ning at his words. She glanced upward despite herself, just for a heartbeat, watching the inverted grass ripple soundlessly before forcing her gaze down again.

"What is that place?" she asked quietly. She guided him down until he sat heavily in the grass, the dry stalks bending and rustling beneath his weight. Bai Ning remained standing, her posture alert as she scanned the open plain. However, the land stretched far, bare and unbroken. There was nowhere to hide, or for danger to gather unseen. Slowly, she lowered herself as well, folding into a lotus pose beside him.

Mo Jian, who had briefly tilted his head to look up at the reflection above, let his gaze fall back to the ground before answering.

"It's a reflection of the Netherworld Domain," he said.

"Though it wouldn't be wrong to say it's also a part of it. Where this domain lies closer to Hell, that reflected side lies closer to the mortal worlds. It reflects life. And the closer you draw to it, the more strongly it pulls, until eventually, you can no longer leave." Bai Ning's brows rose, nearly vanishing into her hairline.

"Closer to Hell?" she repeated.

"You mean the Hell? I thought only immortals could enter it." Mo Jian gave a short, wry chuckle that ended in a sharp wince as pain flared through his dantian. After a breath, he mastered it.

"I suppose I should explain properly," he said.

"The Netherworld Domain is what you might call a sunken world. The three thousand major realms, and the countless subsidiary mortal realms beneath them, exist more or less on the same level. But some worlds, for one reason or another, sink. They drift closer to Hell than any mortal realm should." He paused, gathering his breath.

"It's rare. Worlds like that are called Netherworlds. This domain is modelled after them." Bai Ning absorbed that, surprise plain on her face.

"But I thought movement between planes became impossible after the Shattering," she said slowly.

"That's what you told me, Master." Mo Jian waved a hand weakly.

"We haven't left Tianxia. The Netherworld Domain isn't a true world; it's closer to the natural domains you've already seen. By its nature, it simply lies nearer to Hell than anywhere else in Tianxia." She fell silent, her gaze drifting across the endless yellow grass, the pale sky, the quiet nothingness surrounding them.

"It doesn't look like much," she said at last. Mo Jian bared his teeth in a broad grin.

"That's where you're completely wrong, disciple," he said.

"If you gathered every treasure in the world and laid them out one by one, this map to the Netherworld Domain would still rank comfortably among the top ten." His smile widened, even as he carefully masked the pain twisting in his abdomen.

"Top five, perhaps, depending on how generous you feel." There was a faint, sharp delight in his eyes.

"At least our current situation has one small consolation. Just imagine Song Shaoyue's face, or Han Wenqing's, when they realize what kind of treasure they let slip through their fingers." He laughed, a brief, rasping sound that broke into a cough and cut itself short as his body rebelled. When it faded, only the dry grass remained, whispering softly as it shifted around them. Bai Ning stared at him, then at the bare, empty land surrounding them, doubt flickering plainly across her face.

"I suppose that makes sense," she said slowly, "considering how much effort you went through to obtain the map in the first place. But what's so important about this place?" She hesitated, then asked more directly, "Is there some great treasure hidden here? And… can it help us?" Mo Jian opened his mouth to answer- -and immediately doubled over as a coughing fit seized him. The sound was harsh and wet, tearing itself from his chest until he was hunched forward, shoulders trembling.

Bai Ning was on her feet at once, reaching for him, but he waved her back with a shaky hand. He swallowed hard, forcing the coughs down.

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely, though another cough slipped through despite him. His breath came shallow now, and faster. His condition was worsening more quickly than he had anticipated. Bai Ning did not look reassured in the slightest.

"Master," she said, voice tight, "your injuries – are you truly all right? How did you even manage to fight Old Devil Fu for so long?" Mo Jian drew in a slow, deliberate breath, then let it out just as carefully, as though afraid that too much force might break something inside him. A lighter cough followed, and then he spoke.

"The answers to your two questions are connected," he said.

"For one thing, while we've escaped the Thousand Shattered Islands, our troubles haven't ended. Old Devil Fu won't stop looking for us. He'll scour the seas, and when that fails, he'll turn his eyes elsewhere. Your family. Our friends. Anyone he can use as leverage." His gaze sharpened slightly.

"And don't forget, we still have the gui. When we return, we'll need the confidence to either flee from anyone… or fight everyone." He paused, one hand pressing faintly against his abdomen as pain radiated outward in slow, merciless waves.

"As for how I fought him," he continued, voice quieter now, "I used a secret technique. By burning my cultivation, I could force my strength high enough to contend with someone an entire realm above me." Bai Ning's breath caught.

"That technique has a cost," Mo Jian said.

"It consumes my cultivation, and if allowed to continue long enough, it consumes my life as well." He hesitated, just for a moment, then went on.

"I waited too long. I can't cancel it anymore." The words settled heavily between them.

"It's sustaining itself now," he finished, almost calmly.

"Burning what little cultivation I have left. And when that runs out…" He exhaled.

"It will start burning me." Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. He really had left it too late. The fight with Old Devil Fu had dragged on for nearly an hour. If he had been faster, if he had disengaged sooner, then perhaps he could have forced a different outcome. But now, there was no room left for perhaps. He could feel his life slipping away through the fine cracks in his soul, seeping out in a slow, inexorable drain. He was dying.

The only bright spot, if it could even be called that, was time. As long as he wasn't expending qi, he could endure for a few more hours at least. Enough time to- Bai Ning sprang to her feet. Her eyes burned, and her hands clenched so tightly her knuckles went white.

"No," she said. Unlike her rigid spine, her voice shook, thin and trembling.

"Absolutely not. You can't die. I-""-Fortunately," Mo Jian cut in sharply, raising his voice and speaking over her before the emotion could crest, "there is a solution." She froze.

"You asked what makes this place valuable," he continued.

"It's a creature known as the Netherworld Scorpion. I don't know whether the sinking of this world drew such a beast here, or whether its presence caused the world to sink, but it is a miraculous creature." His breathing steadied as he spoke, as though explanation itself gave him something to cling to.

"In form, it resembles an ordinary scorpion, except that it is pale white and translucent, like a ghost. If refined into an artifact spirit, it possesses a heaven-defying ability: it can bring its master back to life once." Bai Ning's breath caught.

"If we obtain it," Mo Jian said quietly, "and I refine it into the spirit of the Heaven-Enshrouding Ding, then I will survive." Slowly, just as rigid as before, Bai Ning sank back down. She buried her face in her hands, shoulders tight, and when she spoke, her voice came out muffled and raw.

"Couldn't you have said that earlier?" she asked plaintively. A flicker of guilt passed through Mo Jian's eyes. But he shook his head.

"No. It's better you learned of it this way. I had originally intended for the scorpion to become your artifact spirit, once you reached Core Formation." He paused, then allowed himself a thin, rueful smile.

"But needs must. And I admit, I don't wish to die. If this is how we must use it, then so be it." Bai Ning lifted her head at once. The fear and anger from moments before were gone, swept clean, replaced by a focused, steely resolve.

"Then tell me, Master," she said evenly.

"How do we find it?" Mo Jian shifted slightly, his gaze drifting over the vast, empty plains surrounding them.

"That is a difficult question to answer. As far as I know, the scorpion is not bound to any single location within the Netherworld Domain. It roams freely across the entire place, so finding it is largely a matter of luck." He drew a quiet breath before continuing.

"Fortunately, the domain itself is not infinite. It can be mapped, though not easily. We'll split up and search for it separately. Before we do, however, there are a few things you must keep in mind." He looked to Bai Ning to be sure she was listening. She met his gaze without hesitation.

"First," Mo Jian said, "this domain does not measure distance the way we are accustomed to. A single step in any direction might carry you miles away, or leave you walking in circles. You must travel with intent. If your will is clear, the domain will eventually guide you to where you wish to go." His eyes sharpened slightly.

"That is also how we will find each other again after we separate." Bai Ning nodded, committing the words to memory.

"Second," he continued, "the domain is not empty. Powerful spirit beasts dwell here. Most of them remain in fixed territories, or lack the temperament to attack without provocation. If you encounter one, do not test it. Withdraw at once." She nodded again, more seriously this time.

"Apart from that," Mo Jian said, his voice lowering, "there are two other dangers you must be wary of. The first is the asphodel meadows. They appear as clusters of pale, pallid white flowers. If you see them, do not enter. Anyone who walks among them is cursed to wander an endless field of such flowers for eternity." Bai Ning's lips parted, but before she could speak, Mo Jian waved a hand faintly.

"Assume any white flower you see is an asphodel. They are the only kind that grows in this domain." He paused, then went on.

"The second danger is the red anemone. They resemble delicate, cup-shaped flowers, deep crimson in color. Anyone who approaches them will begin to bleed, without wound or warning. Avoid them as well." Bai Ning nodded again, a trace of surprise flickering across her face.

"I've never heard of these spirit plants before, Master. Are they unique to the Netherworld Domain?" Mo Jian shook his head wearily. He closed his eyes for a brief moment as pain surged through him, waiting it out before answering.

"No. I've heard of them elsewhere. They're quite common on another continent, where the Daqin live." He dismissed the thought with a tired breath.

"But that's irrelevant. White flowers or red ones, it makes no difference. Stay away from both."

"Lastly," he said, his tone turning grave, "if you ever feel the ground begin to slope downward, turn back immediately. The lowest point of this world connects directly to Hell. It would take an immortal to attempt, let alone survive that descent." His gaze hardened.

"For either of us, it would be a death sentence. If the land dips, you're heading the wrong way." Silence settled briefly between them, broken only by the whisper of the grass.

"Apart from that," Mo Jian finished, "we'll have to scour the domain carefully for the Netherworld Scorpion." Bai Ning bit her lip.

"About that… if it's an illusory creature with such power, how are we supposed to capture it? Do you have some secret technique, Master?" Mo Jian smiled despite himself.

"For all its nature and strength, it possesses no more intelligence than an ordinary insect. We can't grasp it directly, that's true, but we can guide it, coax it into a suitable location." His smile thinned.

"As for the rest, someone standing on the edge of life and death, like I am now, will have a greater chance of interacting with it. That part doesn't concern me." Bai Ning nodded, determination flashing in her eyes.

"We'll find it. No matter what." She hesitated, then asked quietly, "How much time do you have left, Master? I'll scour this entire domain a hundred times over if I have to." Mo Jian smiled again, this time to hide the pain steadily worsening inside him.

"A few hours," he said.

"Perhaps as much as half a day, if I'm careful. It should be enough." He waved a hand faintly.

"Now go. The more time we spend talking, the longer this will take. Choose a direction and start walking. I'll take another." Bai Ning lingered, clearly reluctant to leave him alone. Mo Jian met her gaze and forced his expression to remain calm, open, and untroubled. After a moment, she nodded and turned away. She glanced back twice as she went, as if reassuring herself that he would still be standing. Each time, Mo Jian made a small shooing motion with his hand.

After only a few steps, her figure blurred and vanished, the domain folding around her and carrying her away. The instant she was gone, Mo Jian let the mask slip. He sank heavily into the grass, shoulders sagging as his carefully measured breathing broke apart into ragged gasps. The pain he had been holding at bay surged back all at once, cresting like a relentless tide. His vision swam. Moisture gathered at the corners of his eyes, unbidden. It was unbearable. He hadn't lied.

He still had a few hours left, perhaps even more, so long as he did not burn qi for any reason. But he had concealed the true extent of his condition from Bai Ning. If she had known how bad it truly was, she might never have left his side. And right now, it was better that she did. She needed to focus on finding the Netherworld Scorpion. Because there was one crucial truth he had not told her. The scorpion could only be found by those blessed with extraordinary luck. Ye Chen had called it a creature bound to fate.

In the story, he had mused that the only reason he had discovered it after three days within the Netherworld Domain was because his destiny had allowed it. Without such fortune, a person could scour this place for ages and never glimpse it even once. Bai Ning was the future heroine. If anyone besides Ye Chen stood a chance of encountering that elusive creature, it was her. Mo Jian tried to push himself upright. His hand slipped uselessly against the dry grass, and he fell back, sprawled among the stalks.

They rose on either side of his face, folding inward, enclosing him like the rib cage of some great beast that had already swallowed him whole. Above him, the sky reflected another Mo Jian. That one lay just as he did, pale and unmoving in the inverted grassland, staring downward with dull eyes, looking every bit like death warmed over. Mo Jian closed his eyes for a single moment. Just a second; a brief reprieve. When he opened them again, the pain had sharpened, striking anew.

There was no sun or any other familiar marker to measure the passage of time, and the flow of his qi was erratic and muddled. He couldn't tell how long he had lain there. But time had passed, that much was obvious. How much? Less than an hour, he guessed, though even that was only a tentative estimate. He wondered if he should get up. But he could not find the strength. Strange, he had believed he had made peace with death, yet now, faced with its looming presence, he felt anything but calm. He wanted to live.

Wanted to do all the things he had always promised himself he would do "later," when time was abundant. Explore. Advance. Experience wonders. He did not want to die; not like this, not now. A small rustling drew his attention. Near his fingers, something moved. Summoning every shred of effort, Mo Jian pushed himself upright. His vision swam, taking a disconcerting moment to focus.

And there, among the golden grass, was a small, pearlescent white, translucent scorpion, probing the stalks with delicate, deliberate movements. Mo Jian froze. For an absurd moment, he wanted to rub his eyes and check again. How could this be? Was it his fevered mind conjuring a hallucination? Then his mind caught up to what his eyes already knew. Slowly, almost reverently, he reached out. The creature did not recoil. It paid him no mind.

His fingers made contact, like plunging his hand into a shock of ice-cold water, and- The first thing he noticed was that the pain was gone. Mo Jian lay somewhere unfamiliar. His memories returned slowly, each one brushing away the last cobwebs in his mind, bringing with them a clarity he hadn't felt since the fight with Old Devil Fu. He finally felt like himself, instead of a man wracked with pain. He was alive. But alive somewhere else. He sprang up. Where was he? He had just touched the Netherworld Scorpion.

How could he be somewhere else? Before him stretched the bank of a pitch-black river. Its current rushed with violent fury, tearing through treacherous rapids and swirling eddies. The stone beneath his feet was bare and slick, mist curling close to the ground, clinging to every rock and pooling in every crevice. The air smelled faintly of wet stone and something sweet, something he could not place. He looked around, taking it all in. The river was not wide; across the water, the opposite shore was a sea of red.

Flowers so densely packed they formed a living carpet, their long curling petals shimmering in the dim mist. It took him a moment to register what he was seeing, and when he did, a shiver raced down his spine. They were fiery red, spider-like blossoms with curling, delicate petals: Red Spider Lilies. Flowers of death, of the afterlife, and of farewells. Mo Jian's gaze lingered, so absorbed in their ominous beauty that he almost missed the Netherworld Scorpion.

The creature was perched atop one of the flowers, its stinger flicking back and forth in the faint mist. His mind raced. In the book, it had never demonstrated the power to transport someone across space. Was this some fevered hallucination, born of his near-death experience? However, that did not explain the lack of pain. Or had the scorpion simply not "approved" of him, forcing him into this strange, liminal place, something Ye Chen had never experienced?

Before he could dwell on it further, a hand reached down and scooped up the scorpion, lifting it to eye level. Mo Jian froze. He had not seen anyone approach the opposite bank, yet now a figure stood there. It was pearlescent, translucent, and as ghostlike as the scorpion itself. But it was the face that struck him dumb. A breath left him, sharp and shallow, as shock swept across his features. He took a step back, then another. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Because standing there, on the opposite bank, looking at him with a wry, rueful grin, was none other than-"Mo Jian," breathed Mo Jian.