This small incident did not disrupt the grand gathering of the cultivation world. Soon, laughter and the clinking of wine cups filled the hall again, and no one spared her another glance.
What to Shen Xiyin felt like a catastrophe was, in others’ eyes, nothing more than a passing joke. She panicked; she wept in humiliation, yet for the crowd it was only worth a few mocking words before being forgotten. No one would bother to remember the blunder of someone so insignificant.
After being absent for some time, Xu Yanxing finally arrived, his expression dark as he fixed his gaze on her. “I should never have brought you to a place like this.”
Shen Xiyin lifted her eyes to him, hoping to find something in his gaze beyond disdain. But there was nothing. Silent, she braced herself against the wine table, wiped away the tears still clinging to her cheeks, and used a handkerchief to clean the shallow wound on her palm.
From dawn until dusk, the symposium dragged on, and only when evening fell did the various sects begin to depart from the Pei clan’s celestial estate.
Shen Xiyin followed Xu Yanxing out through the mountain gate, boarded a carriage inscribed with speed talismans, and left behind the place where she had never truly belonged.
The golden halls atop Imperial City Mountain slowly vanished from her sight. Shen Xiyin thought to herself that she would likely never have the chance to come here again.
Night descended. The carriage sped through the forest, wheels rattling over the stony road with a jolting clatter.
Listening to the sound, Shen Xiyin’s heart suddenly began to pound. She lifted the curtain to glance outside—and at once sensed something was wrong.
Changliu Mountain lay west of Jinling City, yet the carriage was heading south.
“Husband, this doesn’t seem to be the road back to Changliu Mountain,” Shen Xiyin quickly asked the man seated beside her.
Xu Yanxing’s eyes gleamed darkly. “Of course it isn’t the way back.”
Xu Yanxing explained, “Just now at the symposium I heard that to the south of Jinling lives a reclusive physician of extraordinary skill—one said to bring the dying back to life. Your illness has lingered far too long without improvement, so I thought to take you to him.”
Shen Xiyin pressed a hand to her aching chest and murmured an “oh,” but then asked uneasily, “If we go so late, won’t we disturb his rest?”
Xu Yanxing answered without hesitation, “Of course not.”
She asked no further, only wet her parched lips and pulled a water flask from the bundle beneath the seat. Tilting her head back, she drank deeply until the heat in her body eased somewhat.
Watching her thirst, Xu Yanxing knew it was the effect of the fertility pill he had secretly given her.
This potent elixir lived up to its name: it forced the body into its most fertile state, like urging a tender bud to bloom before its season. Such defiance of nature could hardly come without discomfort. And it did more than prepare the body—it stirred in the heart a growing urge for union. Once that thought took root, it demanded release; suppressing it only made desire climb higher. It was for this reason the cultivation world had banned the pill. A wicked thing, it bent every rule of heaven and earth for the sole purpose of conception.
Xu Yanxing had gone to great lengths to obtain it, and now he was determined that Shen Xiyin would bear his child.
As night deepened, the talisman-driven carriage halted before a desolate mountain south of Jinling.
Shen Xiyin stepped down, steadying herself against the railing. The forest was pitch-dark, silent even of insects and birds, and unease rose in her chest.
“Husband… is this truly where that great physician resides?”
“Indeed. What, do you doubt me?”
“I don’t doubt…” she whispered.
Xu Yanxing raised his hand and formed a seal; a flame blossomed in his palm. By its dim glow, Shen Xiyin could make out more of their surroundings. Wild grass choked the land, and the air reeked of rotting branches—no trace of human presence anywhere.
At night, these desolate mountains were often haunted by changgui (spirits that preyed on wandering souls). To prevent travelers from straying into danger, the sects guarding this region usually placed “mountain‑suppressing stones” at the foot of the slopes, talismans to ward off ghosts. Yet here, not a single stone could be seen—nor any other charm to keep evil at bay.
A chill seized Shen Xiyin’s heart. She turned, startled by Xu Yanxing’s face: half swallowed by shadow, half bleached pale by the firelight. Instinctively, she stepped back. “Husband, perhaps we should wait until dawn?”
“That won’t do.” Xu Yanxing caught her wrist, refusing to let her retreat.
The mountain path was steep and treacherous in the midnight dark. Shen Xiyin clung close behind him, never daring to stray.
Xu Yanxing pressed on in silence. The world around them was unnaturally still—only their footsteps and breathing broke the hush.
Anxiety gnawed at Shen Xiyin. Her heart pounded wildly, as though warning her of some looming disaster. She pressed a hand to her chest, whispering to herself that she was imagining things. Just then, a strange sound reached her ears—like gears grinding into motion. Her pulse lurched. She reached out to clutch her husband’s sleeve—only to find the man who had been walking ahead of her had vanished. At that instant, the flame winked out, plunging everything into darkness. Trembling, she called out “Husband!” several times, but no answer came. Before she could gather her wits, the ground beneath her gave way. Like a ravenous beast, the earth split open, dragging her down into its gaping maw—into what felt like an endless abyss.
Not far away, Xu Yanxing heard his wife’s cry. Watching her body slowly swallowed by the Enchantment Maze, his heartbeat suddenly quickened. As the head of a righteous sect, Xu Yanxing knew that what he had done was shameless. He ought to feel guilt, deserve condemnation, and be spat upon by the world. Yet at this moment, his mind held only one thought—the plan was already half complete. Just a little further, and he could reap the rewards.
Steadying his emotions, Xu Yanxing’s expression returned to calm as he descended the mountain path.
On the shaded road below, two figures in indigo robes walked with swords at their sides. Both were young, their bearing refined—clearly scions of noble families. Side by side they moved through the pitch‑black forest. The taller, slender youth with gentle features spoke in a kindly tone to his companion: “Perhaps we should turn back. You’re still under house discipline, meant to reflect on your mistakes. If the clan head learns you’ve slipped out at midnight, you’ll surely face harsher punishment.”
The boy being cautioned showed no concern. His sword‑brows lifted as he cast a glance over: “We’re already here. What sense is there in retreating halfway? Tonight I insist on seeing this desolate mountain for myself.”
“But…”
“No buts. Rest easy. The moment the symposium ended, Uncle left with Senior Xie for Luoyang to attend their master’s memorial. He has no time to bother with me now.”
The night wind stirred, rustling through the branches.
In the shadowed depths of the forest, Xu Yanxing fixed his gaze on the two youths approaching the desolate mountain. He drew in a deep breath, suppressing the surge of elation in his chest.
The fish he had been waiting to hook had finally taken the bait.
Months earlier, he had begun plotting to use the Enchantment Maze to secure his wife’s pregnancy. Shen Xiyin had never been adept at refusing others—least of all those she cared for—so luring her into the array would not be difficult.
The true challenge lay in ensuring that another would also “accidentally” stumble inside.
The one Xu Yanxing had set his sights on was none other than Pei Jun, the young master of the Pei clan. A youth of undeniable brilliance, striking in appearance, gifted in talent, and ranked among the foremost of his generation. Wealth and admiration surrounded him; such a person could not be swayed by mere profit or flattery.
Yet no man is without flaw. For all his virtues, Pei Jun’s temper was less than admirable. Proud and arrogant, quick to anger and eager to fight, he had often been admonished by his uncle—the current head of the Pei family—that true cultivation required humility and restraint. But habits are hard to change, and youthful pride burns hot; the fire in his heart could not be easily quenched.
This was the opening Xu Yanxing had been waiting for.
Not long ago, Pei Jun had lost a duel. Unwilling to accept defeat, he provoked his opponent with sharp words, vowing that he would soon return to reclaim his honor and make the other pay. For this offense of the tongue, his uncle, the clan head, punished him with confinement to reflect on his conduct. Though he admitted fault aloud, inwardly he remained resentful. He believed that while his swordsmanship might not yet rival his uncle’s legendary mastery, it was certainly superior to his opponent’s. His loss, he told himself, was due only to the rare, high-grade immortal sword his rival wielded—whereas his own blade, though fine, could never quite measure up. He was determined to forge his sword into something finer, then seek out his rival for a rematch. For that, he would need superior spirit stones—none better than the Bloodshade Stone.
The Bloodshade Stone was exceedingly rare, found only in desolate mountains far from human paths, and only on the night of a new moon could one hope to encounter it. And tonight, the new moon had just risen.
That morning, during the literary gathering, Xu Yanxing had not been idle. With careful subtlety, he let slip the rumor that this barren mountain might conceal Bloodshade Stones. The claim was not entirely false—after all, he had said: “might.” Who could say whether the mountain truly held such treasures?
But with Pei Jun’s fearless, competitive nature, it was inevitable that he would seize the chance to investigate under tonight’s new moon. And indeed, Xu Yanxing’s prediction proved correct. There was, however, a slight hitch. He had expected Pei Jun to come alone, but unexpectedly, his senior brother Pei Ling accompanied him.
Xu Yanxing was fretting over how to separate the two when Pei Jun himself suggested they split up and search the mountain from different paths. Xu Yanxing could not help but laugh inwardly—heaven itself seemed to be aiding his plan.
Watching Pei Jun stride alone through the mountain gate, Xu Yanxing finally allowed his anxious heart to settle. He had already laid layer upon layer of illusions across the mountain. No matter which path Pei Jun chose, it would inevitably lead to the Enchantment Maze.
Weaving so many barriers had drained Xu Yanxing’s spiritual power. Exhausted, he leaned against a tree, unable to move, left only with the task of waiting—for the moment Pei Jun would step into the array.
At dawn the next day, with his strength partially restored, Xu Yanxing hurried to the site of the Enchantment Maze. There he saw the central fissure sealed tight, pale-blue motes of light shimmering around the formation. This was the sign that the array had been activated—proof that a man and a woman had entered together. Soon, the array would bind them inexorably, neither able to live freely nor die in peace, locked together without escape.
“Success!” Xu Yanxing nearly burst out laughing. He imagined Shen Xiyin emerging from the array to bear him a son, and thought of how he could use this to gain leverage over the Pei clan’s precious young master. With such power in his grasp, his rise to prominence would be inevitable. He dwelled on the countless benefits this scheme would bring him, yet—strangely—an emptiness stirred in his heart, as though something vital had slipped away, never to be recovered. But what did it matter? In life, one must sacrifice to gain. What mattered was that he had achieved what he desired. He fixed his gaze on the heart of the Enchantment Maze, then added three secret locks to seal it completely.
With everything secured, Xu Yanxing descended the mountain at ease. The world seemed brighter—sunlight warm, the weeds of the barren slopes almost pleasing to the eye. His good mood lasted until he reached the foot of the mountain and saw Pei Jun.
Pei Jun, having searched the mountain all night without finding even a shard of Bloodshade Stone, was venting his frustration to Pei Ling, complaining that the rumor had been false and the trip wasted.
Xu Yanxing froze, staring at the living figure of Pei Jun on the mountain path. A chill swept through him. Why was he here? No—he shouldn’t be here. The Enchantment Maze had already been activated. At this moment, Pei Jun should have been trapped inside, unable to escape. How could he possibly be standing here?
Xu Yanxing was certain: besides Shen Xiyin, there was another man locked within the array. Realization struck, and his face turned ashen, then flushed, his throat tightening as though a blade were lodged there.
If Pei Jun was safe and sound before his eyes, then who was the man now sealed inside the Enchantment Maze with his wife?