Dingjiao whispered his words. Bai Rong glanced at him, hesitation already showing on his face. After all, certain things were not meant to be heard lightly. He murmured in a low voice:
"Does the Prince have any clues...? This place is uncanny. If whoever is down there has too grand an origin, we might violate some taboo."
'So even Bai Rong doesn't know who it is...'
After all, among the three of them, Bai Rong was the one who had to do the actual listening. If anything went wrong, he would be the first to suffer. Dingjiao naturally understood his misgivings, so he whispered:
"No harm will come. An elder once mentioned it in passing: whoever is beneath is not a Golden Core. If a Golden Core were wailing in pain, how could you or I still have our lives? Elder Heyun would have long stepped forth to warn us..."
What Bai Rong feared most was a Golden Core. After all, eavesdropping on ordinary matters of the Violet Palace would not bring harm upon a Pure-Hearted Fox like him. But once a Golden Core was involved, even the lord behind him might not be able to protect him.
"Since Elder Heyun has not shown himself, it means there is no danger here."
Dingjiao softly reassured the two of them. Stowing the jade bottle in his palm, he revealed the gleaming white stone bead resting beneath it.
The stone bead was milky white, inscribed with three pale yellow streaks. It was cloaked in merely a faint glow, lacking any wondrous or extraordinary radiance. Dingjiao said softly:
"This abyss is so deep that not even the Violet Palace can plumb its bottom. The further down one goes, the heavier the baleful qi becomes. An ordinary Violet Palace cultivator who came here would at most catch a single loud cry. That is why I specifically retrieved this ancient spirit tool.
"This artifact once belonged to the lineage of the Millet Immortals, known as the [Yinqi Jitu Yan]. It has sat in my manor for a long time, rarely seeing any use."
Hearing such an illustrious origin, Bai Rong could not help but take another look, a hint of envy showing on his face as he murmured:
"An ancient spirit tool of Earth Virtue is indeed rare. The Dao of the Millet Immortals is second to none in might; only dragon descendants like the Prince would possess such a collection."
Dingjiao, however, looked slightly embarrassed. Lifting his chin, his pair of dragon horns emitted a faint luminescence, virtually the only source of light in the entire chasm. He replied:
"The path of Earth Virtue is indeed formidable, but this item is simply too ancient. In those days, cultivators forged artifacts prioritizing wondrous subtlety over magical combat. It provides no real benefit in a fight."
Bai Rong was somewhat puzzled. Dingjiao offered no explanation; he simply tossed the stone bead lightly into the air. It spun midair as a hazy yellow radiance promptly rose from its surface. Li Zhouwei frowned slightly, while Dingjiao fell silent.
The hazy yellow light swept in a circle, brushing across the stone cliff like a shadow. Wherever it passed, earth and stone shuddered with rustling sounds. Dingjiao's voice was low, chanting an incantation so obscure and indistinct that the words could not be made out.
Then, with a clatter, a mouth split open on the adjacent stone wall. It was only the size of a palm, with clearly defined lips and teeth, and a resonant, humming voice emerged from within.
The voice was hoarse, like stones grinding against one another in layered resonance—weathered, hesitant, and faltering, offering no further response. Watching thoughtfully, Bai Rong let out a chuckle and remarked:
"A Millet Immortal artifact, after all."
Dingjiao waited a moment and finally gave up. Passing the stone bead over, he said with a smile:
"Minghuang, this object can listen to the speech of the earth and make stone and soil speak to do our bidding. But the Millet Immortals were the foremost leaders of the Immortal Dao, so this spirit tool insists on saving face and refuses to accept my demonic power. You do it."
"Amusing indeed."
Only then did Li Zhouwei understand their reactions. Taking it gently, he channeled his Dharmic powers into it. In an instant, the bead brightened several fold and became lively. The mouth on the stone wall called out fawningly:
"Greetings, My Lord!"
Li Zhouwei swept his spiritual sense over it, nodded, and asked:
"Are you this cliff wall?"
The wall responded respectfully:
"In reply to My Lord... it is indeed this humble spirit. Awaiting the immortal decrees of the esteemed lords."
"Good."
Dingjiao nodded in satisfaction and instructed:
"Go down and take a look around to see what the situation is below... Mind you, you need not listen or look; just speak as ordered. I fear a single glance or sound might shatter what little divine power you have, forcing me to summon another."
"Thank you, Immortals."
The minor spirit within the cliff gave its thanks, and the mouth immediately slid downward along the wall. Li Zhouwei praised the tool and glanced down at the [Yinqi Jitu Yan] in his hand, finding the stone bead plain and unadorned, showing no hint of being an ancient spirit tool.
Bai Rong twitched his ears, formed hand seals, and stood fully prepared. He chanted a low incantation, every syllable sounding like soft weeping, grating and shrill.
Soon, purple radiance spilled out from his fine fur like flocking birds, fluttering around the ears of the other two. Li Zhouwei immediately felt his hearing clear as a clamor of sounds arose, drifting from far to near, rising and falling:
"Bound... too tightly! Beg... beg you loosen it!"
Bai Rong's description had not been an exaggeration. The voice was agonizing and heart-wrenching, wailing and screaming as though undergoing the most brutal torture, as if wanting to scream its very heart out.
With each performing their role, Dingjiao immersed his consciousness into the connection and asked softly:
"Who are you?"
Li Zhouwei felt all sounds beside his ears abruptly cease. The pitiful wailing finally cut off, replaced by a silence so profound it made one shudder.
Only after more than a dozen breaths did a roar capable of cracking gold and shattering stone surge into the sky. The entire abyss shook with a deafening rumble. The man's voice was shrill as a ghostly wail:
"Who are you?! Where is Yao Chenlin?! Where is Yao Chenlin?! Beg... beg you loosen it! Beg... beg you loosen it!"
The impact of this voice forced a muffled groan from Bai Rong. Li Zhouwei felt the [Yinqi Jitu Yan] in his hand suddenly grow heavy, and the bead that had been steadily drawing his Dharmic powers abruptly severed the connection. Dingjiao's face turned even paler.
*Bang!*
A crisp pop sounded near their ears. Li Zhouwei had merely been supplying Dharmic powers while Dingjiao held the reins of the artifact. Seeing Dingjiao frown, there was no need for words—the minor spirit had undoubtedly been blasted to death.
Without a word, Dingjiao summoned another mouth from the opposite cliff wall, gave it instructions, and sent it down. His tone turned rather dark:
"There is no Great Void here. Not only does summoning each mountain spirit cost immense Dharmic power, but it must also be instructed anew..."
Bai Rong regulated his breathing as best he could, his expression complicated as he murmured:
"He is likely at the bottom of the abyss, who knows how far from here. Yet the moment the Prince asked, he could instantly project his roar all the way up here with pure Dharmic power! In merely a few breaths! Such strength..."
Dingjiao had evidently thought of this as well, his brow tightly furrowed. Bai Rong pondered a moment and continued:
"My lord likely could not accomplish this. I fear only Old Ancestress might attempt it..."
When Xiao Chuting and the others reached the Violet Palace, they could instantly transmit their voices ten thousand li, but that was achieved through the Great Void; as long as one developed a divine ability, it was no great feat. Here, however, the Great Void did not exist. For this person to convey his voice to the heights above purely through sheer Dharmic power was extraordinary.
After waiting a while, Dingjiao spoke once more:
"Who is Your Excellency?"
A few breaths later, the man's voice indeed sounded by their ears. This time it was much calmer, hoarse and resonant, yet accompanied by the sounds of gritted teeth and coughing blood:
"I... Li Xunquan."
Bai Rong froze in shock. Dingjiao raised his head. Beside them, Li Zhouwei's eyes opened slightly. The voice struck his heart like a great bronze bell.
'The Crown Prince of former Wei Li, Li Xunquan!'
The person bound at the bottom of this abyss was actually the Crown Prince of former Wei Li—Li Xunquan, whose severed head had hung at Dianyang for nine years!
Li Zhouwei raised his brows, his golden eyes sweeping over Bai Rong and Dingjiao. Both demons looked utterly shocked, showing no signs of pretense. A ripple passed across his expression, and countless doubts surged in his mind:
'Is this the real Li Xunquan, or a fake?'
'If Li Xunquan was slain in Dianyang City, why is he here... and who did this?'
'What is the dragon clan's motive!'
These thoughts flashed through his mind like lightning. Dingjiao glanced at him and called down in a low voice:
"Li Xunquan? I am Dongfang Dingjiao; my grandfather was Dongfang You... Who bound you here?"
The voice below paused, trembling with the strain of desperately enduring agony before crying out hoarsely:
"Elder Uncle? The pain is unbearable... I beg Uncle to loosen it a little for me!"
Li Zhouwei listened in silence. Li Xunquan had clearly heard only half his sentence and mistaken him for Dongfang You. Dingjiao felt a headache coming on and asked several more questions in succession, but no matter what he asked, the man could only fixate on loosening the cords.
After a full quarter of an hour had passed, Dongfang Dingjiao asked once more:
"What binds you? How long have you been here?"
Li Xunquan seemed to have reached the very limits of his endurance. His voice turned piercing, striking directly at the ears of the three:
"The [Fuxi Qilin-Binding Cord]... Where is Yao Chenlin?! Loosen the cord for me!"
"Ugh..."
Dongfang Dingjiao let out a grunt, his brow furrowing deeply. Clearly, the mountain spirit had once again been shattered to death. Below, endless wailing resumed. Li Zhouwei remained silent throughout, watching quietly.
The white flood dragon paused, then said softly:
"My demonic power is running low. Let us head up first."
As his words fell, the spirit tool beneath their feet rose inch by inch. Bai Rong also withdrew his divine ability, and all the clamor and agonizing cries beside their ears vanished completely. Li Zhouwei cast his gaze down toward the endless depths of the abyss.
Dingjiao appeared somewhat somber and said in a low voice:
"Minghuang, I had only heard that something was amiss in this place, that an elder was imprisoned beneath the earth though the clan never mentioned it. I merely wanted to see for myself; I never expected it to be him..."
If one were to trace the ties, Dongfang You had been close friends with Emperor Gong of Wei. Dingjiao's father, Dragon King Beihai, would have had to address Emperor Gong of Wei as Junior Uncle, and Dingjiao would properly address Li Xunquan as Elder Uncle at the very least. Spanning only one or two generations, this connection was remarkably close, fully warranting the title of elder.
Although worldly relations often cooled once people departed, and Dongfang Dingjiao had originally brought up this friendship merely to draw closer—which held little practical value for Li Zhouwei—Li Xunquan was a different matter entirely... That crown prince might very well have conversed merrily with Dongfang You in the past.
Thus, Dingjiao's feelings were exceedingly tangled at this moment. Though he had prepared himself mentally, seeing him in such a state still stirred his emotions. Grown up as a prince, he had rarely suffered any setbacks, let alone witnessed an elder imprisoned beneath the earth while he remained powerless. He could only say glumly:
"His mind is already fractured... He can only react to a handful of names. He must have been tortured for a very long time."
Bai Rong had expended the most demonic power and looked somewhat haggard. He muttered:
"Fifteen hundred years have passed since the fall of Wei Li. After his head was hung at Dianyang City for nine years, he was likely captured and brought to the bottom of this earth. Fifteen hundred years of agony—no one could endure that!"
Between the two demons, Bai Rong was purely lamenting, while Dingjiao felt genuine grief and indignant fury. The dragon prince said coldly:
"Cruel and tyrannical as the Emperor of Qi was, the Jie tribe had at least received Emperor Gong's grace. He only killed Elder Uncle and a few of his followers, hanging their heads at Dianyang; in fact, in private he was unwilling and unable to truly slay Elder Uncle, so he would never have tortured him here. What is more, the State of Qi was long ago destroyed by the Tuoba clan...
"The one who imprisoned him here must surely be a major power of the Northern Immortal Dao in the present day, one at odds with Wei Li and harboring designs on Mingyang!"
Bai Rong panicked as he listened, crying out inwardly:
'The lad isn't a fool! Spreading it out in such detail is practically pointing a finger straight at Mount Luoxia! Dingjiao, oh Dingjiao...'
Bai Rong knew well that relations between Mount Luoxia and the dragon clan—or indeed the entire demon race—were far from amicable, and Mount Dali had suffered plenty of grievances at their hands. Yet Mount Luoxia was guarded by a Dao Embryo; it was not a lineage one could speak of lightly!
How could Li Zhouwei fail to understand? The State of Zhao was now nothing more than a plaything of Shakya cultivators, and the major powers of the Northern Immortal Dao could be counted on one's fingers; one could guess the name effortlessly. Though he committed it to memory, it was not appropriate to reply directly, so he merely asked in a deep voice:
"Your Highness, records of the affairs of Wei, Qi, Liang, and Zhao are exceedingly sparse in the south and hard to fathom... May I ask what Dao the Emperor of Qi cultivated?"
Li Zhouwei was privy to quite a lot by now. At his inquiry, Dingjiao sighed:
"Emperor Shi Chang of Qi cultivated 'Xi Qi,' which complements 'Shaoyang' and has always been its companion. Today, this path can convert Mingyang into Shaoyang... which corresponds precisely to what is above."
Bai Rong chimed in at just the right moment, terrified that Dingjiao's next sentence would mention Mount Luoxia again. Hurrying forward, he added:
"Indeed! Taiyang can divide into Shaoyang and generate Xi, while Xi Qi can convert Mingyang into Shaoyang. The Dao of mutual generation lies right within this."
Li Zhouwei made a mental note of this. After all, his own family cultivated Mingyang; if he ever encountered someone who cultivated Xi Qi in the future, he would inevitably have to be on guard. He then saw Dingjiao clasp his hands behind his back and say softly:
"My thanks to you both. Now this matter has reached an outcome. Though it falls short of our hopes, I have an answer in my mind."
Seeing their reactions, Dingjiao knew his earlier words had been taken to heart. Not wishing to speak too explicitly, he nodded slightly. The spirit tool beneath their feet flew faster and faster, transforming into a white streak that surged straight upward. Dingjiao said softly:
"However, the matters within this abyss can be considered a secret, and not an honorable one at that. I ask that both of you keep this quiet, which is also for your own good."
"Naturally."
Li Zhouwei and Bai Rong agreed. Dingjiao smiled and said:
"Rest assured, both of you. There is no Great Void here, and I deliberately chose a special day to come. Even the cultivators within the realm cannot divine what our dragon clan does today. Those lineages are arrogant besides, paying no heed to affairs within or beyond the seas under ordinary circumstances, let alone divining anything regarding us."
The implication behind his words became even clearer, obviously intended to put their minds at ease. Bai Rong smiled and nodded, while Li Zhouwei pondered his statement.
'A special day...'
Li Zhouwei paused slightly, then immediately grasped the meaning. Calculating carefully, he silently praised:
'Right now is the Dragon Lord's birthday!'
When Li Zhouwei and the others traveled to Tinglei Island, it coincided with Miao Ye and his men mentioning the Dragon Lord's birthday. Back then, Li Zhouwei had asked Bai Rong, who said there was still just under half a month left.
'And after all this running back and forth, exactly twelve days have passed. The time spent down at the bottom of the abyss just now happened to be the second day of the second month!'
He glanced at Dingjiao. Bai Rong remained silent as well. Li Zhouwei saw the full picture clearly in his mind:
'The fox clan of Mount Li also knew this day was the most opportune... That is why Bai Rong hurried relentlessly, and the travel time of the Bishui scale beast was calculated in advance. Dingjiao appeared to come and go on a whim, but that was hardly the case...'
Chapter 669