Chapter 216: The Master Requests Your Presence

Standing at the main entrance of Xumi Temple, Zhou Qing took a few deep breaths, using his earth-elemental roots to replenish the spiritual energy he had exhausted while casting his spells. Logically speaking, the purpose of his journey had already been fulfilled, as he had, for all intents and purposes, avenged his master. However, he was reluctant to leave now; a mystery that had long puzzled him remained within the walls of this temple.

Years ago, by the Longgou River near Qingyi Town, he had learned of certain secrets regarding Xumi Temple from a pitiful woman named Lihua. Furthermore, when the black and white ghost cultivators appeared earlier, they had made mention of a "Master." Zhou Qing harbored no doubts that this "Master" was the one behind the temple's monthly ritual of ten wishes, as well as the condition of trading one's lifespan for the fulfillment of those desires.

As he stood at the gate, contemplating his next move, the monk who had appeared earlier emerged from the temple once more. Beside him stood a young acolyte, roughly ten years of age. This boy was not a formal monk but a lay disciple; he wore miniature robes and a string of oversized prayer beads hung around his neck. He was not a ghost cultivator, and Zhou Qing sensed no ghostly aura about him whatsoever.

"You are quite remarkable, little one. It is rare to see a human cultivator with your level of prowess," the boy spoke with the tone of an elder.

"Ha! Little brat, have you even grown your hair out yet? How dare you speak such arrogant words?" Zhou Qing laughed, but before his words had even faded, the boy raised his hand and struck out.

A phantom golden palm print shot toward Zhou Qing with incredible speed. Before he could even react, the strike slammed into his chest. The force was immense; it shattered his protective barrier and sent him reeling backward several yards. Struggling to stabilize himself, Zhou Qing looked at the boy with a grim expression.

"Little one, in my school of thought, it is said that a life taken must be paid for with a life—it is the way of heaven. You trespassed in this temple and killed the Black and White Duo, so you shall remain here to pay the debt."

The boy’s tone remained haughty. After speaking, he snatched the prayer beads from his neck and whipped them through the air. In an instant, the beads unstrung, forming a golden chain that spiraled like a dragon and bound Zhou Qing tightly before he could even attempt to dodge. He tried to break free, but to his shock, he could not budge the beads by even a fraction.

Seeing Zhou Qing restrained, a cold glint flashed in the boy’s eyes. With a flick of his feet, he vanished from the entrance and reappeared directly before his captive.

"Sancai Boy, do not harm him. Bring him to see me."

Upon hearing the disembodied voice, the boy, who had been preparing to finish Zhou Qing off, immediately withdrew his hand. He retracted the beads and said, "Follow me, little one. The Master wishes to see you."

Zhou Qing had pondered much about Xumi Temple before arriving. He knew a formidable presence resided within, but he had been confident that his current abilities would suffice for a confrontation. Even if he couldn't avenge his master, he believed escaping would be no difficult task. However, encountering this "Sancai Boy" made him realize he had been naive. The boy’s cultivation level was unfathomable; he had been completely helpless against that single strike. Even more chilling was the realization that this boy was not the most powerful entity here. The voice from within revealed that the Sancai Boy was merely a servant, and a far more powerful being waited inside.

Zhou Qing felt a twinge of regret. Perhaps, after destroying the White Impermanence, he should have simply left the mountain.

"What? Are you afraid, little one?" The boy had walked a few paces, but noticing Zhou Qing had not followed, he turned back to look at him.

Recalled to his senses, Zhou Qing did not reply. He simply offered a faint smile, clasped his hands behind his back, and followed the boy into the temple. After passing through the square and the ancient halls, they finally reached the edge of a lake at the summit.

The lake was eerie; though it was the dead of night, the water glowed as if it were midday. A stone bridge stretched across the surface toward the center of the lake. Following the bridge with his eyes, he could see no end to it. Before climbing the mountain, he had thought the peak of Mount Qingcheng was small, but it appeared there was a whole world hidden here.

The bridge was long. As they walked, Zhou Qing saw a thick mist at its end. Soon, they were enveloped by it. Visibility dropped to near zero, but he followed the Sancai Boy until they emerged before a towering pavilion rising from the lake. The structure was massive, standing seven or eight stories high, and glowed with a purple hue. Far above, white clouds drifted around the roof.

There was a small clearing in front of the building. The Sancai Boy led him there, pointed at the pavilion, and said, "Go in. The Master is inside."

Having delivered his charge, the boy turned and left. Zhou Qing lingered in the clearing, hesitant to enter. As he studied the tall building, he heard a sound from the lake behind him. He turned to look and was struck with shock: a creature was rising from the water, half its body exposed, fixed on him with eyes as large as lanterns.

It had the head of a deer, the eyes of a rabbit, the neck of a snake, the ears of a cow, the belly of a clam, the scales of a carp, the claws of an eagle, whiskers by its mouth, and a reverse scale beneath its throat. In those lantern-like eyes, Zhou Qing saw an air of absolute disdain for all living things. Having seen a dragon before, he recognized the beast instantly—it was a yellow dragon.

The dragon stared at Zhou Qing for a moment, then its massive body rolled in the water and dove back into the depths. The impact caused the lake to tremble violently. Zhou Qing stood there for a moment longer, watching the rippling water, before finally stepping toward the pavilion.