Qin Mu reached out, caught one, and took an anxious bite. Its flesh was searing hot — hotter than the Butcher's strong liquor — and as it went down it burned in his belly like fire, stirring his very qi to unusual life.
He stirred his qi and felt a potency like that of a Qi-Foundation Pill, able to build his qi cultivation — though the gain was far smaller.
"Are these creatures plants, or animals?"
Qin Mu caught another. This wondrous creature had no eyes, hands, feet, or orifices; it drew nourishment from the moss with root-like tentacles, so he truly could not tell whether plant or animal.
He had eaten but one, while Hu Ling'er went bounding along, eating its fill.
The farther down they went, the cooler the air. After who knew how far, they heard the murmur of a stream; a clear rivulet ran down the rock wall, and at the pool where it ended, a few large blind fish lived, giving off a soft glow. To pass, they had to cross the pool to the passage beyond.
"Those great fish are fierce — the moment they hear a sound they fling themselves at it, and they're something else!" Hu Ling'er whispered. "I'll toss a stone to lure them away, and we slip across while we can!"
So saying, it clawed up a rock and hurled it with all its might.
The stone struck the wall, and the eyeless fish burst through the water with a splash, tails lashing, four fins spread like wide wings, hurtling toward the noise!
"Run!"
Hu Ling'er led, and Qin Mu sprinted along the pool's edge for the far bank. Through the clamor the boy heard boom after boom as the strange fish crashed into the rock wall — and opened cavernous mouths to bite great pits into the stone!
Stone hard as any mountain was, in those jaws, like tofu. Had they bitten a man, the outcome would be unthinkable!
Fox and boy had just reached the far bank when the fish, hearing their footsteps, shook their fins, turned, and came flying at them!
"Follow me, young master!"
Hu Ling'er slipped into the passage, and Qin Mu dove after. The passage was narrow; the great fish could not fly inside, but they took to their four fins as legs and raced after them!
"Are these still fish?"
Qin Mu's scalp crawled. The strange fish chased them a good stretch, could not catch up, and one by one turned and slowly withdrew, sinking back into the pool to lie in wait.
Qin Mu breathed a sigh of relief. The way ahead grew broad; when they stepped out of a trumpet-shaped cavern, suddenly shimmering sunlight slanted down. Qin Mu looked up and stood frozen.
Above his head, a boundless tide rolled past, great schools of fish swam over his head, and he glimpsed huge golden turtles, fish as broad as little boats, and river beasts of immense bulk.
One great fish caught sight of them, grew excited, and flung open its cavernous maw — but it struck an invisible wall of water and was flung back.
The great fish shook its head, seeming puzzled, and swam off with a swish of its tail.
"The Yong River. We're at the bottom of the Yong River!"
Qin Mu's face was strange. "The Yong River is right above our heads, yet the water doesn't pour down and flood this place..."
He looked ahead, and his heart shook. Dragon pillars rose before him — thick, dozens of fathoms tall, towering from the river-bed, their tops meeting the water. The ground beneath their feet was paved in white marble. A road stretched forward, dragon pillars lining it on both sides; a hundred-odd fathoms ahead spread a cluster of palaces.
The pillars ringed the palaces, holding up the river and keeping the flood from pouring in.
But many of the palaces had collapsed. There must have been a great upheaval here that turned this place to ruin.
Hu Ling'er went bounding along and came to the ruins of one palace. Qin Mu saw a faded mural on a wall half-collapsed: a dragon-headed elder entertaining his guests — a turtle-backed old man, a woman with a serpent's tail, a monk, and humans alike.
Crack.
A pillar came down, nearly crushing Qin Mu and the little fox.
Hu Ling'er entered the half-fallen main hall. "It's here I found those ancient scrolls."
Qin Mu went closer. In this ruined hall was a hidden stone chamber built into the wall; its door had fallen, and only so had Hu Ling'er discovered it.
The chamber was empty now — its contents must all have been carried off.
"Go any farther and there's great peril!"
Hu Ling'er pointed at a towering portal ahead, nervous. "Terrible!"
Qin Mu looked toward it. Behind the portal seemed to stand a palace, whole and un-collapsed — but strangely wrapped in a veil of water-mist, so he could not make out what lay within; the palace seemed to float in the mist, now visible, now hidden.
"There's a dreadful thing in there..."
Hu Ling'er's voice trembled. "When you reach the portal you'll feel its breath, and then you'll go weak and won't be able to crawl up..."
Qin Mu walked forward, Hu Ling'er following behind. When he reached the portal, Qin Mu suddenly felt an overpowering aura of dread rush over him — aweing, terrifying. It was as if, in broad daylight, half the sky had turned black and pressed down before him, and in that murk a monstrous, hideous beast loomed, staring at him!
Sacred, solemn, untouchable in might, yet savage and ferocious — this was the great terror Hu Ling'er spoke of!
Qin Mu drew in a long breath, steadied himself, and his heart calmed again.
"Shenxiao Heavenly Eye, open!"
Array patterns of qi wove in his pupils, forming a second set of eye-patterns, and he looked into the mist beyond the portal.
Beside him, the white fox had gone weak, flat on its belly, laboriously turning and crawling slowly back.
Qin Mu picked it up. The limp fox whined: "Don't grab me — I'm dying, my heart is pounding..."
"You're not dying. The thing in this dragon palace is the one that's dead."
Qin Mu laughed. "Guess what I saw?"
Hu Ling'er gave no answer, its four limbs slowly paddling at the air, its tail flicking, as if trying to crawl away, unwilling to stay even a heartbeat.
Qin Mu laughed again. "I saw the Dragon King of the Yong River!"
"Ahh—"
The little fox gave a sigh and fainted dead away, its four legs kicked straight out. Qin Mu waited a moment, and the little fox cracked open one eye. Qin Mu probed: "The Dragon King of the Yong River."
Hu Ling'er kicked its legs even straighter and shut its eye again.
"The Dragon King of the Yong River is dead."
Qin Mu couldn't help laughing. "Only bones are left. That dragon king died I know not how many years ago. Through the mist I saw its dragon bones."
Hu Ling'er hurriedly opened its eyes. "Dead?"
Qin Mu nodded. "You can rest easy now. Won't you come in with me?"
Hu Ling'er shook its head at once. Qin Mu set it down, and still the white fox crawled weakly along the ground, belly flat. Qin Mu picked it up again, set it on his shoulder, and stepped toward the portal. The little fox, almost out of its wits, its white fur bristling, its claws clutching hard at his shoulder, stared wide-eyed ahead, not daring to move a muscle.
Qin Mu walked into the mist, and Hu Ling'er clutched all the tighter, its fluffy tail sticking straight up.
The mist was thick and never dispersed, yet oddly, walking into it, he felt not a trace of damp. Qin Mu walked through it and saw droplets of water floating frozen in the mist, still and motionless.
Then, in the mist, he saw many broken shards of jade floating too, and beyond them fragments of spirit weapons and broken bones — all floating silently, as if weightless. When he had looked in through the portal, he had seen only the dragon bones, not these things.
"There must have been a bitter war here — even the corpses of masters and their spirit weapons were smashed! Did it happen before the Cataclysm of the Great Ruins, or after?"
Suddenly Qin Mu felt a pinch at his scalp — Hu Ling'er, frightened half to death by a skull drifting before them, had sprung onto his head, clutching his scalp, its back arched high.
The white fox was shivering so hard it shook Qin Mu's scalp.
"A dragon!—"
The white fox shrieked, sprang off Qin Mu's head, and clung to his back, all four claws digging into his sides, like a white satchel Qin Mu wore.