How Could This Be Possible?

It was fortunate he was riding a rock sheep; a horse could never have leaped and scrambled across such rugged terraced fields. "Faster, go faster!" He Lingchuan urged the rock sheep, sounding remarkably anxious. Second Master Shi did not understand why, assuming he just wanted to rejoin the convoy. He even pointed the way: "There's another path over there! It's a bit steep, but heading down from there will actually put us ahead of the caravan." The winding mountain road taken by the escort detachment looped around most of Wind Demon Mountain, so their climb had essentially been a shortcut. It was just that this shortcut was far too treacherous for any normal convoy to take. By now, more people were trickling in along several narrow trails—men and women alike—marveling in wonder at the sight of the ancient ruins. These were sightseers from other caravans who had followed the established routes up the mountain, lagging far behind the two of them. Just as He Lingchuan leaped near the trail leading down into the hollow mountain, a low, whistling sound suddenly drifted up from behind and below. To be fair, the winds here were fickle and varied—howling like wolves, wailing like ghosts, roaring like tigers, or trilling like whistles; one could hear virtually anything. Yet this whistle from behind blew three longs and two shorts, followed by a rapid burst of trills, unmistakably distinct from the natural wind. He Lingchuan's ears twitched. Turning his head, he saw a figure standing by the edge of the subterranean fissure, blowing vigorously on a long whistle. Ordinary whistles were short, at most an inch long. The greenish-blue whistle in this man's hand resembled half a chopstick—neither bamboo nor jade—bearing knots along its surface. Moreover, the sound it produced was softer and far deeper than a normal whistle, actually resembling the song of a whale. The man was clearly channeling true power into his blowing, which kept the notes condensed and cohesive, preventing them from being swallowed by the surrounding din. No one could endure the biting wind and cutting frost atop the peak; everyone wore thick felt hats or neck gaiters wrapped over their faces, leaving only their eyes exposed, He Lingchuan and Second Master Shi included. Yet to blow the whistle, this man had been forced to pull down his face cloth, revealing his true features. Fu Shanyue! Gazing at that increasingly familiar face, He Lingchuan felt a sudden jolt in his chest. The man had indeed escaped Fufeng City in one piece, stubbornly pursuing his mission. Yet the envoy from the Shanyu Kingdom was clearly heading east to return home. Why hadn't Fu Shanyue gone after him, trailing all the way here instead? Could his objective have changed? As Fu Shanyue blew his whistle, he raised his head to survey his surroundings, his eyes turning crimson. Strange as his actions were, the other sightseers made no move to stop him, though one complained, "Keep it down! Don't trigger an avalanche!" Only He Lingchuan cast his gaze all around. He had been about to leap onto the narrow stone path, but now he abruptly wheeled the sheep's head around, urging the beast straight into a deep alcove carved into the mountainside. The cliff walls were pitted with such hollows gouged out by wind and snow; the larger ones could shelter a house, while the smallest could barely fit a squirrel. This was a dead end with no passageway behind it. Three large characters seemed to be carved into the rock wall, requiring closer inspection to decipher. Second Master Shi was bewildered. "Brother He, what are you doing?" Weren't they supposed to head down the mountain? At that very moment, a strange rumble resonated once more from the hollow mountain—like a trapped beast imprisoned in its lair unable to break free, brimming with fury and irritation, booming as loud as thunder. Most critically, the noise rose from the subterranean fissure! It was as though some monstrosity was about to burst forth from within. The man blowing the whistle was retreating too, backing all the way to the cliffside, yet the whistling never ceased. Just then, a young man in his early twenties standing near the mouth of the fissure teased his companion: "Aiya, what are you afraid of? The Wind Demon was wiped out by the Jeweled Tree King ages ago. A little noise is just wind in an empty cave—nothing to worry about!" Yet no sooner had the words left his mouth than a violent gale roared out of the fissure with a howling roar! Everyone standing near the opening was blown off their feet without exception. The youth who had just been mocking his companion was the unluckiest of all; flipped into the air by the blast, he was propelled straight toward the sky. He Lingchuan shaded his eyes with a hand, estimating the height to be at least ten... no, seventeen or eighteen zhang. Well, plunging down from there meant certain death. The ferocious wind bursting from the fissure did not exit along the channels as usual. Instead, it circled round and round within the annular hollow of the mountain. With every loop, the gale gained strength, the howling wind grew louder, yet the wind's "volume" appeared to shrink. The dozen or so sightseers who had climbed up were equally unfortunate, swept up in an instant. Using them as reference points, He Lingchuan could see the radius of their spinning whirl grow tighter and tighter. At the same time, loose gravel, grit, and snow from all around were sucked inside, churning together. At first, the victims managed a few piercing screams, but soon they were battered into unconsciousness by debris. Dyed by this airborne detritus, the "wind" finally revealed its distinct shape to He Lingchuan: A textbook tornado, broad at the top and narrow at the base. At the very peak rested two pitch-black masses that resembled eyes. He Lingchuan, Second Master Shi, and the rock sheep braced themselves deep against the cliff wall; fierce as the tempest was, it simply couldn't budge them. At that moment, the only other person left standing out in the open was the whistle-blower. The tornado seemed to deliberately steer clear of him. "Th-this is the Wind Demon?" Second Master Shi's eyes went wide with shock. After freezing for several breaths, he suddenly cried out, "How is this possible?!" This route had been safe for hundreds of years. Even he had traveled it multiple times. Why would they run into the Wind Demon out of nowhere this time? Had he seen a ghost?! Hadn't the Wind Demon been slain by the Jeweled Tree King? He hurriedly asked He Lingchuan, "Brother He, how did you know this thing was going to emerge?" Yet He Lingchuan seemed deaf to his words, closely examining something else instead: A Wind Lion Lord statue. Indeed, this alcove also held two Wind Lion Lords, one on the left and one on the right. The one on the left was as tall as a man, while the one on the right was three feet high. He Lingchuan widened his eyes to inspect the back of the Wind Lion Lord, simultaneously asking a seemingly bizarre question: "There's no wind in this alcove. Why?" To keep from being swept away, he had even shoved the rock sheep deeper inside. Who could have guessed there would be no wind here at all, as if the tornado were selectively ignoring this niche? A moment ago, he had stepped out a few paces and felt nothing more than a gentle breeze against his face, as though they existed in an entirely different world from the apocalyptic scene raging outside. Still dazed with shock, Second Master Shi blankly echoed, "Why?" With such a terrifying sight unfolding before them, why was Brother He fussing over minor details? He moved over beside He Lingchuan as well, only to see that the snow on the back of the Wind Lion Lord had been brushed away, revealing intricate carved lines. Was there a formation array behind the statue? "Perhaps it's because of them." He Lingchuan pointed downward offhandedly. "Look at the terraces below. Has any plot flanked by a Wind Lion Lord suffered any damage?" Second Master Shi instinctively looked down. Sure enough, the terraced plots guarded by Wind Lion Lords were still blanketed in thick snow, completely untouched by the tornado's suction, whereas the areas without Wind Lion Lords standing sentinel looked as though they had just been cleared by a vacuum cleaner—spotless and bare. Of course! The Wind Lion Lord's purpose was to ward off wind and suppress evil! No wonder the Piaomiao Sect had placed Wind Lion Lords all across their territory; they were meant to keep the Wind Demon at bay! "These statues were meticulously refined and inscribed with formation arrays. They're no ordinary goods." After scanning the formation array, He Lingchuan felt completely reassured. The Wenxuan Pavilion in Panlong City housed many formation manuals, especially tactical formations, and he had studied quite a few. Even if he wasn't a master, discerning genuine from fake was no problem. Glancing back toward Fu Shanyue, he noticed the man was indeed standing beside a Wind Lion Lord; earlier, even when facing the Wind Demon head-on, only his robes had fluttered in the gale. By now, the tornado in the hollow mountain was compressing smaller and smaller. Yet this shrinking brought no comfort; rather, it was like a balloon squeezed to its absolute limit, waiting to burst the moment it reached critical mass. When the radius of the vortex tightened to a mere three zhang, the tornado unleashed an earth-shattering roar. As if in resonant sympathy, the vast, clear sky suddenly rumbled with rolling thunder. Massive storm clouds drifted in from who knew where, rapidly blotting out the bright sun. The firmament darkened at once, brooding black clouds looming overhead. Fu Shanyue had already climbed to higher ground. Now, he extended an arm decisively, pointing straight toward the escort detachment on the mountain road across from them. The gesture radiated chilling murderous intent. As if receiving an order to slaughter, the tornado roared upward, spilling over the golden peak of Wind Demon Mountain and charging straight for the other side! Second Master Shi cried out, "Has that man lost his mind?! He's actually summoning the Wind Demon to attack the escort detachment!" "He isn't mad—he came here specifically to kill!" Fu Shanyue always acted with clear purpose. Who knew what he had set his sights on this time? Could he also be coveting the Jeweled Tree King's spirit seed? He Lingchuan scooped up a handful of snow and ice from the ground, smacking and rubbing it across the carved inscription on the cliff wall. As white snow settled into the grooves to outline the words, he finally made out the ancient immortal language engraved in the stone: Fengbo Rock. Second Master Shi stood dazed for a long while before suddenly bowing deeply to He Lingchuan, hands clasped. "Thank you for the warning, Brother He! Otherwise, the caravan would have been finished!" By now, he could see it too—the escort detachment had been this whistler's target all along. Fortunately, he had listened to He Lingchuan's advice and kept the Shimen caravan a dozen li behind the escort, escaping collateral devastation. This caravan was the life's blood he and his brother had poured half a lifetime into building; if it were destroyed by the Wind Demon, the blow would have been crippling. A benefactor—a true benefactor sent to help them! "Think nothing of it." He Lingchuan smiled, nudging a stone roof tile down into the hollow mountain with his foot. His footwork was adept and his aim true; the stone tile bounced across the terraced fields, tumbling faster and faster until it plunged toward the long subterranean fissure. Upon entering the chasm, the tile behaved like wood dropping into water; hovering and swaying before He Lingchuan's very eyes for several moments, it suddenly bobbed back up. This was the wondrous spectacle of "falling objects that never sink" Second Master Shi had spoken of earlier. Powerful updrafts rising from beneath the earth would blow anything that dropped into the fissure back upward. In other words, the fissure's prior anomaly was entirely due to the Wind Demon? What had that creature been doing inside—lying in ambush and charging up? Fu Shanyue was the one who had sounded the whistle, so where had he procured another Wind Demon? Most importantly, why was Fu Shanyue attacking the Jeweled Tree King's escort detachment? Could any sane person do something like that? He Lingchuan pondered for a moment and conducted a small experiment: He stowed both Wind Lion Lords into his storage ring. Instantly, the full force of the mountain gales poured in, sweeping mercilessly over every inch of stone. This confirmed He Lingchuan's suspicion: these things truly repelled wind. He put the Wind Lion Lords back, told Second Master Shi, "Stay here and don't wander off," then mounted the rock sheep and rode along the cliffside toward the summit. Along the way, he casually picked up several more Wind Lion Lords that stood nearly as tall as a man. Better safe than sorry.