Weeds choked the courtyard, and most of the pavilions, corridors, and chambers had collapsed; its past splendor was no more.
Suppressing his joy, Qin Sang cast a wary glance around him, concealed his aura, and slipped quietly ahead, following the Fire Jade Centipede into the compound.
In the end, he arrived at a desolate courtyard. Pausing before the moon gate, he took in the scene before him.
Even in ruins, it possessed an opulence unimaginable to mortals. The courtyard floor was paved with square slabs of precious jade, each a foot wide—in the mortal world, every single one of them would have been an heirloom treasure.
Some slabs were cracked or chipped, and clumps of weeds sprouted from the fissures between them. Combined with the crumbling walls of the chambers behind, the entire courtyard felt profoundly bleak.
The courtyard was not large and could be taken in at a single glance.
To the naked eye, there was nothing peculiar about it.
Qin Sang swept the courtyard dozens of times with his spiritual sense, leaving no corner unchecked, yet he found no spiritual treasures, nor did he detect any hidden restrictions.
Strangely, the Fire Jade Centipede's target was unmistakable—it pointed directly at this small courtyard.
The Fire Jade Centipede struggled violently in his palm, fretfully gnawing at the spiritual power binding its body. Its senses could not be mistaken; something was definitely hidden in this courtyard.
Frowning slightly, Qin Sang stepped forward with caution. He walked a circle along the edges of the walls, then paced over every single inch of the courtyard. Everything was ordinary. He even tentatively tried damaging a jade slab, but met with no counterattack.
This was not surprising. If the spiritual treasure were so easy to find, someone would have claimed it long ago.
Returning to the moon gate, Qin Sang glanced down at the Fire Jade Centipede, then released it.
The centipede's slender body immediately coiled and sprang forward like a streak of fire, landing at the edge of the white jade slabs. Then, a scene unfolded that caught Qin Sang by surprise.
The Fire Jade Centipede began scuttling swiftly across the ground along a bizarre trajectory. Its body curved, twisting back and forth; its path was by no means a straight line, but something remarkably intricate and mysterious.
As the Fire Jade Centipede crawled faster and faster, Qin Sang suddenly sensed an elusive ripple stirring within the courtyard.
Before this, he had not detected the slightest anomaly!
*Is this some sort of illusion formation?*
As time passed, Qin Sang could even see faint ripples emerging in empty air with his bare eyes. Fortunately, the fluctuation was not pronounced, or it might have attracted other cultivators.
Yet even now, Qin Sang remained unable to tell what kind of formation had been laid across the courtyard, much less how to unravel it.
Just as he was filled with silent wonder and suspicion, the front half of the Fire Jade Centipede vanished into thin air. Qin Sang's eyes narrowed sharply, and he hastily triggered the restriction he had placed on the creature, freezing it in place.
Half of the centipede's body had passed into an unknown space, while the other half remained outside, looking bizarrely as if severed by the void itself.
Qin Sang darted to its side, only to find that no matter how he moved, he could not enter that space, which left him utterly mystified.
After a moment of contemplation, he ordered the Fire Jade Centipede to retreat to the moon gate. He then attached his spiritual sense to the insect and followed closely in its exact footsteps back into the courtyard.
At first, nothing was out of the ordinary, but after a short while, Qin Sang noticed a light mist rising around him. The mist grew increasingly dense, turning his surroundings hazy and dreamlike, as if he had wandered into an immortal realm.
Suddenly, an intuition struck Qin Sang, and he halted. A strange mirror had appeared before him, its surface gently rippling as though made of flowing water.
This was the core of the formation. Realization dawned on him: earlier, the Fire Jade Centipede must have stepped into this water mirror, which had caused half of its body to vanish.
Since the centipede remained unharmed, there was likely no danger inside, though caution was always best.
Summoning his ebony sword to guard himself, Qin Sang stepped into the water mirror.
In an instant, the clouds and mist melted away.
The courtyard was still the same courtyard.
The distant mountains were still the same mountains.
Crimson runes burned in the sky, resembling a canopy of fire that blotted out the heavens.
Everything from just moments before felt like a dream.
Aside from that, the only difference was an ancient well that had appeared out of nowhere in the center of the courtyard. Qin Sang was now standing right beside its curb, leaning forward slightly to peer down.
The well was deep and secluded. Sweeping the bottom with his spiritual sense revealed nothing abnormal; it seemed just like an ordinary well. With the naked eye, one could barely make out the dry bottom, which gleamed with a profound blackness. A flight of stone steps, wide enough for only one person at a time, stretched continuously downward into the depths of the earth.
The courtyard's master had gone to the trouble of setting up such a potent, secretive illusion formation solely to conceal this well!
Filled with intense anticipation, Qin Sang patted his corpse puppet pouch. A zombie leaped into the well and proceeded down the stone steps, soon vanishing from his sight.
Even as it nearly moved beyond the reach of Qin Sang's senses, the zombie encountered no attack.
Qin Sang promptly vaulted into the well, trailing far behind the zombie.
The flight of stone steps was long and plunged straight into the subterranean depths. As he descended deeper and deeper, he felt the surrounding air grow increasingly dry and scorching. He could not help but wonder: *Could these steps lead directly to a lava river?*
Just then, Qin Sang sensed that the zombie had reached the end of the steps. He quickly ordered it to return, then swept silently and swiftly downward.
...
"*Hiss!*"
Standing on the final stone step, Qin Sang hardly dared to breathe. The anticipation and joy on his face vanished without a trace, replaced by an expression of grave solemnity.
His guess had been correct: the steps truly led to a lava river, though they did not open directly into the river itself, but rather into an immense subterranean cavern.
The cavern reached nearly a hundred feet high and was so vast that its boundaries could not be seen.
At the cavern floor, it could hardly be called a river anymore; a lake of lava was a far more fitting description.
Just like in the trial grounds, an identical circular restriction covered the lava lake.
However, there was no mist obstructing vision inside the cavern. With the naked eye, one could clearly see countless flame flying monkeys frolicking and scuffling above the lava lake.
What drew the eye most of all were several enormous, fiery-red vines growing out of the lava at the center of the lake, right in the midst of the monkey troupe.
These vines intertwined into a trunk as thick as several people embracing, resembling an ancient tree. Its sparse branches and leaves reached straight up to the cavern ceiling, where they sprouted rootlets that clung tightly to the stone walls before dangling back down.
At the tip of the thickest vine hung a round, palm-sized fruit.
The fruit was entirely golden, looking remarkably conspicuous.
The flying monkeys seemed aware of the fruit's preciousness, steering well clear of it even while roughhousing. Perhaps they were more like guardian beasts protecting the vines and the fruit.
There were far fewer flying monkeys here than in the trial grounds, yet Qin Sang stood frozen in place, not daring to charge in and pick the fruit.
The flames on these flying monkeys were not bright crimson, but a dark, smoldering red!
Even in play, every blow they struck packed a power that left Qin Sang thoroughly shaken.
Chapter 242