Chapter 189 — Blood

Ming Li stared at Jin Pingyue for a long while, his brow furrowing slightly, but he said nothing. And beneath the faint, sharp edge of his gaze, Jin Pingyue seemed utterly unruffled, as though she did not feel her words of this moment to be at all improper; she only gazed back at him, smiling sweetly.

For a time, silence fell over the Xuanhuo Altar. The monkey Xiaohui, perched on Ming Li's shoulder, seemed to dislike the mood; it shifted about, gave two squeaks of "zhi zhi," sprang down from its master's shoulder to the floor, glanced around, and then wandered off on its own, slowly making its way to the center of the altar, into the pattern carved with countless red images of fierce gods.

Ming Li slowly drew back his gaze, glanced at Xiaohui, who was lying on the ground with great interest, pulling faces at those fierce god carvings, and said unhurriedly, "So then, you know a great deal?"

Jin Pingyue smiled faintly, a warmth like a spring breeze brushing lightly through that cold hall, and said:

"A weak little woman like me, what could I possibly know? Only that in the past I had the good fortune to visit a few places, and was favored by the Sect Master of the Underworld King—that is how I came to assist you."

She pursed her lips in a smile and said, "Don't go reading too much into it!"

Ming Li frowned and said nothing, paying no heed to the faint, heart-stirring allure hidden in Jin Pingyue's sweet words. After pondering a moment, he seemed suddenly to forget why Jin Pingyue had appeared here at all, and to forget as well the mysterious strangeness that cloaked her—and even the Underworld King himself—and merely said mildly, "Since that is so, I must ask your counsel."

A gleam of light flashed in Jin Pingyue's eyes, but her smiling face remained seductive as ever as she said, "Ask away, young master."

Ming Li said, "It seems you arrived here before me. As you say, legend holds that to seal the Beast Lord, none but the 'Eight Fierce Xuanhuo Formation' of this place will serve. Only I am dull-witted and cannot fathom it. I wonder if Miss Jin has grasped anything?"

Jin Pingyue shook her head, a hint of a bitter smile showing on her face, and said, "To be honest with you, I have already been here in the Xuanhuo Altar three days, and have gained nothing at all. Apart from these muddled images carved on the ground, I have found nothing."

Ming Li's gaze drifted unbidden to the dark red patterns beneath his feet. Unlike Jin Pingyue—and Xiaohui too—he had personally witnessed the dread power of the strange formation within this Xuanhuo Altar. The overwhelming might of that day, like mountains and seas turned over, and that terrible giant beast of crimson flame—none of it was the sort of memory one could easily forget. Perhaps that was precisely why Xiaohui was so eagerly sprawled on the ground, scratching here and poking there, as though searching for something as well?

Could it be that after that earth-shaking upheaval of that day, when the volcanic lava had burst forth into the sky, the formation here had been damaged after all?

Such a thought flitted through Ming Li's mind, but he gave no sign of it. After a moment's pondering, he looked again at Jin Pingyue and said, "Miss Jin, whatever the case, this is the only place we know of that holds the 'Eight Fierce Xuanhuo Formation.' Since it is indispensable for sealing the Beast Lord, we may as well stay here a few more days. Who knows—there may yet be a shred of hope."

Jin Pingyue gave a radiant smile, full of charm, and said, "Very well."

Ming Li glanced at her, then withdrew his gaze and sat down again before the formation carvings on the ground. Before long, a faint fragrance drifted over, and with a rustle of garments, Jin Pingyue had seated herself not far from his side—and the distance between the two of them seemed to have grown a little closer.

Ming Li's brow furrowed; he opened his mouth as if to speak, then stopped. He did not look again at the peerless beauty beside him, but fixed his attention on the carvings. Yet somehow, another thought rose suddenly in his heart:

That day, Xiaobai had said she would go to the southern frontier to seek the method of the 'Eight Fierce Xuanhuo Formation,' but no word of her had come for so long—how was she now? And in all the world, this seemed the only place with a clue to the Eight Fierce Xuanhuo Formation, yet Xiaobai was plainly not here. Then where could she be now?

Was she well…

This faint, elusive thought flickered through Ming Li's mind from time to time over the days that followed.

Only it seemed the destruction wrought by that skyward eruption of magma that day had been greater than Ming Li had expected. Though the fierce god carvings on the ground still looked more or less intact, they had plainly lost the spiritual force that once dwelt within them—or rather, that fierce, baleful energy of mighty power. What remained now was nothing but a set of stiff, lifeless stone images.

Ming Li and Jin Pingyue sat together in the Xuanhuo Altar, secretly pondering and probing, for seven full days, and still gained nothing.

From time to time, disciples of Fenxia Valley came in to inspect the place; several times, even Shangguan Lue came personally with men on routine patrol. But Ming Li as he was now—and Jin Pingyue too—had both advanced greatly in cultivation. Hiding themselves in the dark above the altar, they evaded these searches with ease.

Only they could never grasp the essentials of the formation, and that was truly a headache.

One day, the two had again sat facing those rigid, lifeless carvings for a whole morning, when suddenly Jin Pingyue stretched lazily, her slender waist seeming like a serpent's body of some demoness, carrying a charm that tugged at the soul. Yet the only man beside her still stared fixedly at the carvings on the ground, deep in bitter thought, not noticing in the least Jin Pingyue's performance of her graceful figure.

Jin Pingyue gave a soft humph, shot Ming Li a glare, and a trace of complicated feeling seemed to flit through her eyes—but only for an instant. A moment later, she sighed and said, "Have you seen anything?"

Ming Li stirred, and only then slowly came back to himself. He turned and glanced at Jin Pingyue, shook his head, and said, "And you?"

Jin Pingyue gave a bitter smile and did not answer, but Ming Li already understood.

Jin Pingyue frowned and said, "We have been staring at these confounded things for seven days now. In these seven days we have done all we could, yet not only can we not activate this formation—we cannot even stir a single carving. What in the world is going on?"

Ming Li pondered a moment, raised his head to glance at the darkness above, and said, "That day, when I came here to rescue someone, I triggered the mechanism in this hall, and the Eight Fierce Xuanhuo Formation was instantly set off. But…"

His gaze flicked toward the center of the hall, and his tone carried something strange as he said, "But that mechanism is gone now."

Jin Pingyue followed his gaze and indeed saw, at the center of the hall, a small raised stone platform—but the stone there was scorched black, fused into an ugly lump. It looked nothing like any cunningly wrought mechanism.

In truth, the moment Ming Li had arrived here and seen this scene, he knew that the strange stone mechanism he had seen on his first visit had already been destroyed. And the various violent, baleful energies that had once surged and resonated in his heart when he saw those fierce god carvings on the ground last time—this time he could not sense them in the least.

This stretch of carvings, once so terrible, now looked like nothing but dead, inert stone.