The mountain shook. A roar like the end of the world rolled down the slope, and the River of Death swallowed the foothills whole. The water climbed higher, devouring everything in its path.
Su Yan and Yuan Qi bolted back toward the ruined temple. The air turned bitter cold in an instant. Yuan Qi slithered sluggishly, the chill pushing him toward hibernation.
"Yuan Qi! Drive your qi and blood! Don't you dare freeze on me!" Su Yan shouted.
They stirred their inner heat, but the cold bit straight to the marrow. Even their qi and blood couldn't drive it out. Su Yan shivered and forced his Great Sun Daoyin Art to life. A little warmth returned.
He clapped his hands together, twisted them apart, and a spark leaped from his palms. The dead campfire roared back to life.
Man and snake huddled near the flames. The fire burned sickly green. Old men's faces floated in the flames, white eyes bulging, mouths open in silent screams.
"No wonder this place is cursed," Yuan Qi stammered.
At the foot of the mountain, a figure in yellow robes sprinted uphill, five strange men at his heels.
"True Yang qi and blood! No evil shall pass!"
The yellow-robed man chanted as he ran. Blazing true Yang energy erupted from his body, driving back the river's cold malice. His aura burned like a furnace, thick with the stench of yao.
Under that aura, the five men lost their human shapes. They twisted into massive beasts. The yellow-robed man was Huang Siping, the Stone Mountain God. His followers were common yao — deer, foxes, dogs, mountain cats.
They had spent the night hunting Su Yan under the City God's orders. On their way back, Yuan Qi's breakthrough roar drew them here. Now the River of Death had cut off their retreat.
Huang Siping ran faster. The river climbed too quickly. A fox yao stumbled, and the water swallowed it whole. In the blink of an eye, fur and flesh melted away. Only a skeleton remained, tossed by the waves.
The surviving yao ran for their lives. In the moonlight, more figures scrambled uphill. Huang Siping squinted. "Grass-head gods from Dengjiapu, Wujialing, Laobutou... They're here too!"
Grass-head gods were minor deities — virtuous souls housed in clay idols, fed by incense offerings. Huang Siping was a great yao who had earned his godhood through raw power.
The grass-head gods ran blindly. One by one, the river swept them up. Their idols shattered. Their spirits vanished into the current.
Huang Siping's remaining four yao fared no better. The river took them all.
He neared the ruined temple. On the other side, a man in black and red official robes rushed toward the same shelter. They locked eyes. Both froze, ready for a fight.
"Warden Wei." Huang Siping's yellow fur bristled.
The man was Wei Chu, a prison warden of Lingling County. He had tracked Su Yan with two fellow nuo masters after rescuing Ding Quan. Then the River of Death changed course and devoured his colleagues.
"Stone Mountain God." Wei Chu forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
The City God and County Magistrate Zhou Yang had been at war for years. The murder of the Jiang family god had pushed both sides to open killing orders against each other.
Wei Chu feared no grass-head god, but Huang Siping was a true rival.
Huang Siping drew the massive steel blade strapped to his back. "The River changed course. We're both staring at death. If we fight, we both lose. If we work together, we might live. What do you say?"
Wei Chu glanced past him. The river still rose. The ruined temple was the only high point left.
Wei Chu nodded. "Disaster erases old debts. We help each other. For now."
They entered the temple. A teenage boy and a giant snake sat beside a green, ghost-haunted fire.
"Su Yan. You know who I am?" Wei Chu puffed out his chest.
Su Yan's hand shot to the silver in his sleeve. "Warden Wei, I don't have money for you."
Su Yan had watched officials squeeze peasants dry. He had a few pieces saved for his escape and wouldn't hand them over.
"Insolent brat. What's in your sleeve?" Wei Chu sneered. "I have eyes of fire. I can spot silver through cloth. But I won't take it. Your crime is too great. The magistrate wants your head."
Su Yan relaxed. "You want my life, not my money? Good. If you wanted money, I'd really hate to pay."
Wei Chu grunted. "Stone Mountain God — life or money?"
"Both." Huang Siping's face was stone. "The City God wants him dead. I serve the City God, so I don't ask for money. But after I kill him, I'll strip his corpse. I don't work for free."
Wei Chu's hand slid into his sleeve. "Su Yan murdered Lord Jiang. That's a matter for the living court."
Huang Siping's fur stood on end. "The Jiang family god was sealed by the underworld court. Killing a god breaks underworld law."
Wei Chu pulled his hand out, empty. "The river is here. Unity serves us both. Conflict destroys us both. Let's settle this after the flood passes. Agreed?"
Huang Siping nodded.
Wei Chu sat by the fire. "You're a snake catcher with some skill. Why become a criminal?"
Su Yan stared at the screaming faces in the flames. "When gods and officials leave no path for the living, the living kill gods and officials to carve their own."
Huang Siping sat across from Wei Chu. "Su Yan, you were born to lose your head."
Wei Chu laughed. "That's yao nature. You're untamable. Even without this crime, you would have fallen eventually. Look at the Stone Mountain God. Tamed quite nicely."
"I serve the underworld court like a dog. You serve the Zhou family like a dog. We're the same breed." Huang Siping's voice stayed flat.
Wei Chu smiled, unruffled.
Su Yan rose and looked outside. The flood had reached the temple door. The water still climbed, slower now, but inevitable. Nowhere higher existed.
"Do either of you know why the River of Death changed course?" Su Yan turned back.
They sat before the haunted fire, their faces glowing green.
"Old tales speak of the River of Death. It ferries dead souls and follows its own laws. It never changes course. Only one thing can make it shift," Wei Chu said.
"What?"
"Mass death. On a massive scale."
"But why?"
Wei Chu said nothing.
Huang Siping spoke. "The River of Death carries dead souls. Every region once had tributaries fetching the dead in orderly fashion. When death overwhelms them, the main river shifts course."
"Where it flows now, mass death has already happened."
"What happened west of Lingling? Why has an underworld river invaded the world of the living? I thought the realms stayed separate."
"Good question." Wei Chu didn't know either.
Yuan Qi couldn't stay quiet. "Underworld invasions aren't new. The river changed course eight hundred years ago. Again in the fourteenth year of Tianbao."
Wei Chu and Huang Siping stared at him.
The Tianbao Rebellion had killed millions. But what happened eight hundred years ago? Even Huang Siping didn't know.
"We have many books at home. I love reading," Yuan Qi said.
"Books? Can they make you an official?"
Yuan Qi fell silent, wounded.
The river poured into the temple. Su Yan and the others leaped onto the roof. The River of Death melted flesh from bone.
Wei Chu's eyes flicked between Su Yan, Huang Siping, and Yuan Qi. "The river dissolves flesh, but not bone. If the water rises higher, I'll kill them all and use their skeletons as stepping stones."
The water climbed higher, reaching the main hall, flooding the back courtyard, lapping at the well beneath the pavilion.
Wei Chu prepared to strike — then light erupted from the temple. Blinding radiance shot skyward.
A thunderous bell tone rang out. Light exploded into a massive bell-shaped halo, pushing back the river.
On the roof, Su Yan shielded his eyes. A thick wall of light surrounded the temple, covered in shifting patterns.
Outside, the river raged higher. Twisted ghosts smashed against the walls and dissolved into smoke.
Warmth returned. The bone-deep cold faded.
"The bell! The one in the back courtyard!"
Su Yan looked toward the pavilion. Brilliant light poured from the rusted bronze bell.
They gathered at the pavilion's edge. Wei Chu frowned. "A treasure like this. Why hasn't anyone taken it?"
The mountain shook violently.
Su Yan grabbed a pillar. The bell blazed brighter, its light piercing the well.
Massive black-iron scales slid past each other.
The scales stopped moving. They parted.
In the black depths, a single vertical blue eye opened. It filled the bottom of the well, staring up with infinite patience.
A thousand whispering voices flooded his mind. Foreign thoughts crowded into his skull.