Volume Four: Winds Scatter the Clouds The Four Continents Sink Beneath the Waves Chapter Eight: A Fresh Defeat

Tu Shang glanced around, incredulous. “Did we win?”

Shan Shang, equally stunned, murmured, “It seems so. Look, the Xuanhuang forces are retreating!”

Shi Shang leapt up and shouted, “At last, we can vent our frustration! Brothers, grab your weapons and chase down the stragglers!”

His rallying cry jolted many soldiers of the Dark Fiend Vanguard from their stupor. They snatched whatever weapons they could find among the rubble and followed Shi Shang forward.

But just as they charged, howling, a slender and enchanting woman descended gently onto their path, her jade-like feet barely touching the ground, raising a cloud of dust.

The vanguard troops came to an abrupt halt. Once she stood firmly, Shi Shang hesitantly addressed her, “Vanguard—oh no, Immortal Maiden, may we pursue and slay the fleeing enemies?”

Lanling opened her clear, pure eyes, and her rose-red lips parted to say, “No.”

Shi Shang hurried to explain, “Immortal Maiden, look, the Xuanhuang warriors are escaping. If we don’t pursue them now, we risk letting the tiger return to the mountain!”

Lanling’s brows furrowed, her eyes wide as she glared at Shi Shang. He realized he had misspoken, but watching the Cloud Palace contingent vanish into the distance, anxiety overcame him. He blurted out, “If we let them go, how will the vanguard answer to the Great Emperor? Better to let us chase them now, perhaps we’ll earn some merit.”

Lanling strode toward the center of the army, her voice gentle as she replied, “You may try.”

Shi Shang froze, caught between advance and retreat.

At that moment, Shan Shang approached Lanling, bowing with clasped fists. “Immortal Maiden, with such a great victory, if we don’t press the advantage, the Great Emperor may fault us.”

Lanling returned to the rubble, picking up a dirty, battered rag doll missing limbs. “I only promised him to retrieve the Desolate Cauldron. The rest is none of my concern.”

Shan Shang was momentarily at a loss, but his seasoned composure returned quickly. He bowed again. “Your display just now astonished all. Please rest here; let us handle the pursuit!”

Lanling hugged the doll to her chest, eyes shut, and spoke softly, “In my Lanling Void, to slaughter the Xuanhuang lineage—do they think me dead?”

“This…” Shan Shang was at a complete loss for words.

After a long pause, he waved his hand, instructing the soldiers who had charged ahead to withdraw. He then addressed Lanling, who lay atop the sand and rubble. “Immortal Maiden, we will begin clearing the battlefield. What are our next orders?”

No answer came.

Shan Shang, somewhat awkward, walked away.

On the outskirts of the great southern jungle, at a long-abandoned relay station—

The Cloud Palace contingent was resting here.

Lan Sheng sat dejectedly atop a large stone, brooding.

Qin Ying approached and handed him a flask of water.

Lan Sheng looked up, shook his head, then resumed scraping at the earth with a twig, lost in thought.

Qin Ying smiled, sat beside him, nudged him with her shoulder. “Still angry?”

Lan Sheng remained silent.

Qin Ying nudged him again, laughing. “Not speaking? Are you stewing again?”

The words struck a nerve. Lan Sheng shouted, “We were so close—just a little more and we would have defeated them. How did such a strange woman appear out of nowhere? Our massive vortex, swept away in a single move! What kind of monster is she?”

Qin Ying stared at her water flask, muttering, “She’s no monster. She is Immortal Lanling, peerless even among our own sovereigns—no, more formidable than Zhuo Hua.”

Lan Sheng’s jaw dropped, astonished. “Lanling… Immortal Lanling has returned? Are you sure?”

Qin Ying shook her head, chuckled softly. “Her beauty is unforgettable even from afar. How could I mistake her? Who else in this world possesses such fleet-footed grace and overwhelming power?”

Lan Sheng protested, “But the Sovereign praised your speed as swift as a fleeting steed, unrivaled in the void!”

Qin Ying laughed, pointed to the sky and then the earth, self-mocking, “Compared to the Immortal Maiden, I am worlds apart.”

Lan Sheng muttered, “Is she truly that strong?”

“Indeed, she is. That’s why, the moment I saw her act, I ordered the retreat.”

They looked up—it was Lin Bai.

Qin Ying glanced at him, hesitated as if to speak, but fell silent.

Lin Bai patted her shoulder. “Sister Qin Ying, you know our palace lord’s temperament. You mustn’t let your feelings cloud your judgment.”

Qin Ying nodded, then quietly began to weep.

Lan Sheng stood, asking Lin Bai, “Palace Lord Lin, what should we do next?”

Lin Bai turned, hands clasped behind his back. “We must return to the Cloud Palace. With over thirty percent casualties and low morale, our fighting strength is gone. Now that Immortal Lanling is here, only our sovereign can match her.”

Lan Sheng grumbled, “Retreating so miserably infuriates me. Why didn’t the front and central guards come?”

Lin Bai laughed, “This isn’t something the Twelve Guards can handle. Even the Twenty-Eight Stars together might not contain Immortal Lanling.”

Lan Sheng asked, “So we’re doomed?”

Qin Ying lifted her head. “No. If Zhuo Hua acts, we won’t lose. But…”

“But he may not act!” Lin Bai finished, sighing.

Shan Shang, reluctant, approached Lanling, bowed stiffly. “Vanguard, last night’s skirmish cost us over thirty percent casualties. Fortunately, half are only lightly wounded and will recover in a few days.”

Lanling still lay atop the rubble, now with a tattered mat covering her lovely face. She murmured, and Shan Shang took it as acknowledgment, turning to leave. But Lanling spoke again, “Henceforth, you may decide such matters. I am only to lead you in retrieving the Desolate Cauldron. The rest I ignore.”

Shan Shang had expected as much. He bowed perfunctorily. “As you command!” Then he departed to organize the troops.

Lanling had lain there for ages, yet felt no sleepiness at all.

She sniffed, cursing inwardly, “They sent only these minnows to greet me? Do they so underestimate me? Stupid oaf, blockhead, wooden-head!” The more she cursed, the angrier she became, smashing her fist into the half-broken wall beside her. The poor wall finally gave way and collapsed with a crash.

Lin Bai and his party, dispirited, arrived beneath the Cloud Heaven Stele, preparing to utter the passcode. Just then, a rosy glow unfurled from beneath the dark monument. Lin Bai recognized it as someone from within about to exit, so he raised his right fist to signal everyone to halt.

When the glow faded, a purple-robed elder with wrinkled skin and white hair appeared, stroking his long beard and cheerfully addressing them, “Welcome home, heroes! By the Sovereign’s command, I am here to greet the Cloud Palace army!”

Lin Bai stepped forward, saluted, and in the act of bowing, whispered, “Serpent Lord, do you know we were just defeated?”

Serpent Lord chuckled, nodding. “Of course I know.”

A surge of anger rose in Lin Bai’s chest; he was about to erupt. The elder laughed, stepped aside with a gesture, “Please, Palace Lord Lin, return in triumph! The Sovereign and the other two palace lords await you in the Palace of Spirit Perception.”

Lin Bai gave a perfunctory bow, striding into the Cloud Heaven Stele. The others, faces filled with confusion, helped each other and followed him back to the Cloud Palace.

Once all had passed, the Serpent Lord’s smile faded, replaced by a solemn expression, marking his face with the weight of years.

Inside the Cloud Palace, lanterns hung everywhere, banners fluttered. The festive decorations suggested some joyous occasion, but the hurried faces of the servants betrayed only deep worry.

Lin Bai grabbed a demon servant, demanding loudly, “Why is the palace so festively adorned?”

The young servant dropped to his knees, trembling. “Palace Lord Lin, I don’t know. Early this morning we were told to dress the palace as if for the New Year.”

Lin Bai waved his sleeve in frustration and strode into the great hall of the Palace of Spirit Perception. Qin Ying and Lan Sheng exchanged puzzled glances and followed.

The hall was adorned exactly as the servant had described—decorations usually reserved for festivals. Aside from the radiant Zhuo Hua seated on high, the two standing below—Kui Wolf and Dou Goat—wore faces of sorrow.

The more Lin Bai looked, the angrier he became. He flung his robe aside, knelt on one knee, and addressed Zhuo Hua in a resonant voice, “Defeated general Lin Bai, here to accept punishment.”

Zhuo Hua sprang from his throne, walked quickly down, and helped Lin Bai to his feet, speaking gently, “Old Jiao, what nonsense! Your defeat is no fault of yours!”

Lin Bai was perplexed. “I was ordered by the Sovereign to destroy the Spirit Helm army, but arrived too late. The Dark Fiend traitors had completed their leap first. They now possess not only their original divine sense but formidable bodies. Yet we managed to encircle them. However, Immortal Lanling’s sudden intervention shattered Lan Sheng’s vortex, costing us our victory. Sovereign…”

Zhuo Hua interrupted him, smiling and waving, “Let’s not talk about that today. You slew enemies by the thousands and endured hardship. Today the Cloud Palace celebrates your achievements!”