The Cangwu Abyss lay far deeper than the Nether River's abyss beneath the Water Mouth Temple. The entire canyon was formed by the collision of the Underworld and the mortal realm—a world-seam where two worlds ground against each other, generating terrifying heat and the crackling of dimensional friction.
Xu Ying had studied the Great Dao of spatial friction while observing the Nether River abyss. Now, standing within the Cangwu Abyss itself, his understanding deepened dramatically. Every pore of his body seemed to open as the laws of spatial friction flooded through him.
Zhou Qiyun had climbed to a narrow ledge overlooking the abyss, his white brows furrowed in concentration. Even he—an expert who had entered the fourth level of the Grotto-Heaven realm—found the forces here overwhelming. The friction between the two worlds could tear apart flesh and soul alike.
Xu Ying stood at the very edge, peering into the abyss. His Celestial Eye had been refined to extraordinary clarity; he could perceive details invisible to ordinary eyes.
Far below, where the two worlds ground together in a seam of blinding light, he saw them—massive shapes moving through the dimensional rift. They were not rock. They were not flesh. They were something else entirely, something that existed in the space between worlds.
One of the shapes shifted, and Xu Ying caught a glimpse of what might have been an eye. The moment his Celestial Eye locked onto it, a wave of terror crashed through his consciousness—primal, overwhelming, ancient beyond comprehension.
He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose. Yuan Weiyang caught him.
"You looked too deep," she said quietly.
Xu Ying wiped the blood away, his expression complicated. "Those things in the abyss... they are neither alive nor dead. They exist in the space between the two worlds."
Zhou Qiyun said nothing, but his eyes narrowed. He had heard the whispers—those ancient voices that called from beyond the veil of reality. He had felt the presence of beings so vast that comprehension itself became dangerous.
The silk threads descended again. This time, the Impermanences were leaving—the yang qi harvesting operation had been disrupted too thoroughly. The false Impermanences, their identities exposed and their leader dead, were fleeing back to their sect in disgrace.
"We should leave as well," Yuan Weiyang said. "The Cangwu Sect will send reinforcements once they learn what happened."
Xu Ying nodded. He was not yet strong enough to confront the forces gathering in Yongzhou. Zhou Qiyun's tribulation would attract every hidden power in the region—cultivators, Nuo masters, and perhaps things far worse.
The group ascended via the silk threads. The journey upward was brief; in moments they emerged from the canyon mouth into brilliant sunlight.
Mount Jiuyi spread before them in all its majesty. The peaks rose like the teeth of a dragon, shrouded in mist and cloud. Ancient forests covered the slopes, their canopies so dense that the forest floor lay in perpetual twilight.
And dominating the central peak, visible from miles away, stood the Cangwu Sect's main hall—a colossal structure of dark stone and ancient wood, its eaves carved with Nuo symbols that seemed to writhe and shift in the light.
"This is where we part ways," Zhou Qiyun said abruptly. He removed the Impermanence mask and let it dissolve into motes of light. "The Cangwu Sect is beneath my notice, but the forces gathering here are not. Be cautious, Xu Ying. When my tribulation begins, Yongzhou will become a battlefield."
Xu Ying looked at him. "You intend to undergo your tribulation here? Why?"
Zhou Qiyun's expression was distant. "The Cangwu Abyss contains a world-seam—the friction between the Underworld and the mortal realm creates unique conditions. My tribulation requires precisely such an environment. Besides..." He paused, his eyes flickering toward the abyss. "There are things in that abyss I must understand before I ascend."
He turned and walked toward the Cangwu Sect's gates without looking back.
Xiao Bo exhaled slowly. "That man is a blade balanced on its edge. One misstep and he will fall—or take everyone around him down."
Yuan Weiyang watched Zhou Qiyun's retreating figure. "He will not fall. Not yet. The Zhou family has accumulated power for centuries; their methods are not easily undone."
Xu Ying said nothing. He was thinking about the things in the abyss—that primordial terror, those shapes that existed between worlds. And he was thinking about the whispers Zhou Qiyun had mentioned, the voices that called to those who entered the Dao too deeply.
"We need to find shelter," he said at last. "The Cangwu Sect will not take kindly to strangers lurking near their territory."
Yuan Qi, who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the journey, suddenly spoke. "A-Ying... those things in the abyss. They reminded me of something my grandfather once told me."
"What did he say?"
Yuan Qi's serpent eyes were troubled. "He said that before the world was divided into heaven, earth, and the Underworld, there was only the Great Dao—vast, undifferentiated, and alive. When the world was cleaved apart, fragments of that original Dao were trapped in the spaces between. They have been waiting there ever since... waiting to be whole again."
The words hung in the air like a prophecy.
Xu Ying looked back at the Cangwu Abyss, now invisible beyond the mountain ridges. Somewhere in its depths, those ancient fragments of the Great Dao stirred, pressing against the boundaries of a world that had long since forgotten them.
"Let's go," he said quietly. "There is much we need to understand."
The group descended from Mount Jiuyi, moving through ancient forests where sunlight fell in golden shafts. The path wound through valleys thick with paulownia trees—sacred trees, Yuan Weiyang noted, that were said to attract only the Phoenix.
"According to legend," she said, "when a Phoenix appears, the paulownia trees bloom. And when the paulownia blooms, it means a great change is coming to the world."
Xu Ying glanced at the paulownia groves they passed. The trees were in full bloom—golden flowers opening against the dark green leaves, their fragrance filling the air with an almost oppressive sweetness.
"Then the change has already begun," he said.
Behind them, from the direction of the Cangwu Sect, a deep gong sounded—resonating through the mountains like the voice of an angry deity.
The Cangwu Sect had discovered what happened in the Underworld.
Xu Ying quickened his pace. The game was far from over—and in Yongzhou, the pieces were moving faster than he had anticipated.