The Vanished Divine Wind

Once they stepped inside, the towering cliffs on either side cut off the mountain winds, and the force of the gale dropped sharply. Only then did Second Master Shi catch his breath and say, "That... that platform out there is the airway for the divine wind. Right now it isn't even that bad, but come every Hour of the Rat and Hour of the Horse, the astral gales cut sharper than bone-scraping steel blades, harvesting human lives outright." He Lingchuan asked with curiosity, "Yet I noticed stone perimeter foundations on that terrace. They looked like remnants of buildings." To erect buildings at high altitudes, one first had to lay down stone plinths to serve as fixed foundations. He Lingchuan hadn't had the chance to look closely; he only knew those stone bases were immense in scale, showing that the structures here in the past must have been magnificent. "Wasn't that Wind Demon a monster they kept?" Second Master Shi explained. "With the Wind Demon's aid, what was so difficult about building halls here? Years ago, I came here when the wind was light, and several stone tablets still stood on that terrace. Too bad the inscriptions had been ground flat by wind and snow, leaving them illegible. Ah, right—there were also two Wind Lion Lord sculptures. They were carved directly into the bedrock of the mountain, so they couldn't be swept away." When the winds were faint, standing on that platform and looking down upon the snowy expanses would surely stir the grandeur of dwarfing all the peaks beneath one's feet. While others looked up to watch the sunrise crown the summit in gold, you would be standing on the golden summit itself. Following Second Master Shi along the mountain path, He Lingchuan realized that the immense rock faces completely blocked the wind and snow. Behind them, only a gentle breeze brushed against their faces—as tender as silk compared to the raging, frigid tempest outside. Reaching this point, He Lingchuan couldn't help letting out a low murmur of surprise. Wind Demon Mountain truly ought to be renamed Lotus Peak. In truth, the mountain peak was shaped like a lotus bud, with over a dozen colossal rock faces resembling lotus petals sheltering a hollow mountain belly. Even snowflakes drifting from above were sparse. This colossal cavern in the mountain belly might have been hollow to begin with, but ancient immortals had certainly worked upon it, carving according to the natural contours and excavating more than two hundred zhang deeper, making it look like terraced fields stacked layer upon layer. Mmh, perhaps they truly had cultivated terraced fields here, for He Lingchuan even spotted the winding traces of water channels—artificially chiseled ditches and canals. In those bygone days, this place might well have been lush with tender green, with clear spring water meandering around the fields. The mountain path snaked along bizarre rocks and precipitous cliffs, with remnants of building foundations everywhere. He Lingchuan saw the largest white jade beam, measuring a full seven zhang long—twenty-one meters—and so thick that several men could not encircle it. Having tumbled down from who knew where, it was wedged squarely among rocks in a ravine. It must have once spanned the roof of some grand hall. Yet by modern human effort, hoisting it up such a treacherous, steep mountain would be utterly impossible. It was evident that halls and pavilions had once been built following the mountain terrain, some suspended over chasms and ravines, others nestled amidst the fields, arranged in picturesque disorder—a dwelling far beyond mortal reach. In their prime, they might truly have deserved to be called jade pavilions and palaces in the clouds. Yet now, not even a single wooden beam remained. He Lingchuan ran his hand over the rock wall and remarked suddenly, "Plants once grew here. It must have been a mild, moist place." Where moss grew over many years, it left faint whitish-green flecks that were difficult to remove unless scraped completely smooth. This rock face bore just such markings. The heart-protecting mirror piped up as well: "There was definitely an enchantment here!" Even if the Piaomiao Sect had tamed the Wind Demon for their own use, they would still have needed an enchantment to ward off the bitter cold and snow, holding up a greenhouse so plants could thrive freely. Who didn't long for warmth? Even immortals wouldn't enjoy living in perennial, biting cold. With mountains, waters, dwellings, and fields, this paradise in the belly of the mountain had been secluded from the world. Conquering nature through human will was something only achievable in the ancient golden age of immortals. Standing here today, modern people could only daydream of the immortal majesty and sigh at the vicissitudes of time. Second Master Shi shrugged. "After the spiritual energy waned, the sect moved to the plains as well. People who've examined this place say these are all ruins from before the mid-Middle Antiquity." To live detached from mortal dust came at a price. When one could no longer afford it, one had no choice but to move out. He Lingchuan couldn't help asking, "Why did they insist on dwelling in such an isolated, lofty place, enduring the wind, snow, and bitter cold?" "See those terraced fields? Did you think they planted wheat and beans like mortals?" The heart-protecting mirror lectured like an eager tutor. "What they cultivated were spiritual fields, and what grew from them were heavenly materials and earthly treasures! In the ancient era, blessed grottos and heavenly paradises were mostly situated high upon mountains. The richer and purer the spiritual energy, the better the spirit herbs they could grow." "I see." The age-old principle of living off the mountain when by the mountain hadn't changed from antiquity to this day. "Then aren't immortal disciples just higher-grade farmers?" Mortals farmed crops; immortals tilled spiritual fields. Was there any difference? The mirror was momentarily at a loss for words. "Fine, you win. You're right." He Lingchuan's foot bumped against something, and he crouched down to look. "Another sculpture here." It was a sculpture that had tumbled down from who knew where, four chi tall, its base already broken. He Lingchuan turned it over and brushed away the grit and snow. The carving was a lion head on a human body, not crouching on all fours, but standing upright. From top to bottom it was shaped like a single pillar, hands resting neatly at its sides, looking surprisingly cute. "That's a Wind Lion Lord—a tradition handed down from the Piaomiao Sect. To this day, villages and towns across the Gale Tundra often set up Wind Lion Lords to ward off the wind and suppress evil spirits." Second Master Shi pointed toward the terraces. "Look, they show up often around fields and buildings." Indeed it was. Carvings of the Wind Lion Lord stood here and there among the terraces and near the bases of buildings—some standing upright, others crouching. Some were clearly meant for the ground, while others must have originally sat upon rooftops. Moreover, they usually appeared in pairs, one large and one small. "After the Piaomiao Sect died out, people even made special trips here to steal Wind Lion Lords to set up in their homes, and sometimes they fetched high prices. I used to see them at markets—only the size of a palm." Second Master Shi patted snow from his hat. "Ah, all the small ones were carried off. The only ones left behind are the big brutes nobody could haul away." He Lingchuan turned his attention toward the great cavern in the mountain belly. As noted earlier, natural hollows existed inside this mountain. A massive stone fissure seemed to run straight down from the mountain belly to the very foot of the peak, its opening reaching a full zhang at the widest—like the gaping maw of a beast, wide enough to stuff several He Lingchuans inside. "Look at this." Second Master Shi grabbed a stone larger than a fist and hurled it toward the fissure. Clatter, clatter, clatter. The stone tumbled into the crevice and vanished into silence. There wasn't even the echo of it hitting bottom, showing just how deep the fissure ran. "Huh?" Second Master Shi was somewhat taken aback. He tossed another stone down, but the same thing happened. "What's going on?" "What kind of performance are you giving?" "By rights, once a stone falls right over the opening, it shouldn't drop any further..." He pointed at the chasm. "This is the source of the Meridian Divine Wind. With each passing two-hour period, the wind issuing from this fissure strengthens, peaking at the Hours of the Rat and Horse respectively, before blowing through the flutes in the rock walls to the outside, never lingering in the mountain belly. "I don't know why, but this time when I tossed a stone, no wind blew out. I threw stones down twice in the past, and there was definitely wind both times." He Lingchuan looked up to survey the entire peak. It seemed the airways had been planned from the very beginning. "Legend says that only after the founding patriarch of Piaomiao Peak tamed the Wind Demon did he establish the sect here. With the Wind Demon standing guard, outsiders could hardly attack." He Lingchuan nodded. "The Jeweled Tree King had to defeat the Wind Demon before he could seize the entire tundra." He felt a touch of disappointment. It seemed that after enduring centuries of wind and snow, and receiving countless visitors, these ruins had nothing useful left behind. Just as the thought crossed his mind, a wave of warmth spread across his chest. He couldn't help being overjoyed. Did the divine bone necklace find a treasure here after all? He Lingchuan wandered around the ruins, gauging the location of this supposed "treasure" by the warmth of the necklace. To Second Master Shi, he just seemed to be strolling aimlessly about—most first-time visitors to the Piaomiao Sect ruins acted that way. Yet He Lingchuan's expression grew increasingly grim, for he discovered that the closer he got to that wide chasm, the cooler the necklace became. Only when he climbed down and stood at the lip of the fissure did the divine bone return close to its normal temperature. Was this thing trying to trick him? He Lingchuan kicked a few more pebbles into the chasm, but even after a long while, no sound echoed back. It was bottomless. And the divine bone necklace expected him to jump down like this? Was this thing looking for a new master? Seeing him peering over the edge of the chasm, Second Master Shi hastily warned, "Brother He, be careful. If you fall in, not even your bones will be left." He Lingchuan waved his hand toward the chasm a few times, then suddenly said, "You said there's usually wind here?" "Yes," Second Master Shi answered with a start. "The closer it gets to the Hours of the Rat and Horse, the stronger the wind becomes. See, it's almost the Hour of the Horse now. The entire ruins and the whole mountain belly ought to be filled with fierce wind by right." Rather than just a light breeze brushing their faces, like now. Yet He Lingchuan could not feel the slightest trace of wind rising from the chasm. The air within seemed frozen solid. Where had the endless, perennial wind gone? Something was very wrong. Even without any Meridian Divine Wind, a normal subterranean fissure should still generate drafts due to temperature differences. Even a subterranean karst cave had cool drafts blowing year-round, making it a summer retreat. He had just begun to suspect that someone intended to ambush the escort detachment here, and now the vent of the Meridian Divine Wind was behaving abnormally? Was it merely a coincidence, or did it fit the old adage: Whenever things go contrary to nature, there must be... a demon at work? He had originally thought that if the mastermind attacked the escort detachment, they would probably find a way to bring down rocks above the highway, triggering a landslide. After all, that was the most effective method for the few to defeat the many. Besides, those people had already used it once at Mount Ping, so using it again should be familiar territory. As for Wind Demon Mountain, He Lingchuan had originally thought it was merely an observation post. After all, this treacherous peak was not connected to the winding highway on the opposite mountain, separated as they were by a bottomless abyss. The mastermind shouldn't be able to mount an attack from here. Yet after witnessing the abnormality of this chasm, he felt that his calculations might have gone awry. The unnervingly calm fissure, the wind that had vanished without a trace, the former habitat of the Wind Demon, the heating divine bone... An impossible answer surfaced from the depths of He Lingchuan's mind. Could there be something down there that had sucked all the wind away? Paying no heed to the heating prompts from the divine bone necklace, he suddenly barked at Second Master Shi, "Mount the sheep!" "Ah? Oh." Second Master Shi had only just reached out his hand when He Lingchuan hoisted him onto the saddle behind him, and the rock sheep kicked up its four hooves, bounding toward higher ground.