Volume One, Chapter Eighteen: The Black Tortoise Formation

“Respectful obedience is better than polite refusal! Misty Cloud Sect comes to accept the challenge!” Before Jin Guishan had even finished speaking, he had already leaped onto the high platform, with the other disciples hurrying after him.

He Bo-yang wore a sinister smile, knowing well they were only six in number and posed no real threat.

Jin Guishan took position at the head of the turtle, Fat Girl stood at the tail, while the remaining disciples guarded the four legs, forming a defensive stance. The attacking serpent position had to be filled by Yi Bing for lack of anyone else. Jin Guishan had already decided: though Yi Bing knew nothing of formations and could not launch an effective attack, as long as they held firm in defense, at worst they could force a draw with Zhengjia Sect.

Indeed, after only a few exchanges, the two sides fell into a deadlock. Zhengjia Sect could not break through, nor could Misty Cloud Sect advance. He Bo-yang grew anxious, covertly forming a hand seal with his left hand, and suddenly thrust his sword at Yi Bing. A stream of flame shot directly at Yi Bing’s face.

“Mother!” Yi Bing screamed in terror, turning to flee. But as quickly as he ran, the flames pursued him just as fast. Fat Girl panicked, hastily formed a seal, and swung her sword, sending a jet of water at the flames. But a Zhengjia Sect disciple instantly blocked her, his sword spouting fire to counter her water. Jin Guishan and the others quickly sent their own jets of water to help, but all were repelled by Zhengjia disciples. In an instant, water and fire clashed in a lively battle, but Yi Bing was left in a dire situation, with the flames nearly singeing his behind.

“Hey! Don’t run around like that!” As he ran wildly, Yi Bing suddenly heard Hanyu shouting in his ear.

“What else should I do? The fire’s about to roast my... my—!” He couldn’t control his legs.

“Turn! Run in circles!”

“Oh... right...” Yi Bing started spinning in circles as he ran.

“Roast, roast... I’ll be roasted first!” Hanyu cried.

“Ah!” Yi Bing suddenly stopped in his tracks. Of course! Hanyu was in the bundle on his back; if the flames chased his rear, she’d be burned first.

“Hey! Why are you stopping now? Get down!” With the flames bearing down, Hanyu kicked in panic. Obediently, Yi Bing dove to the ground with a thud, the whole platform shaking with the impact. The flames whooshed past, just grazing Hanyu’s head.

“Get up and hit him!”

“How?” Despite his words, Yi Bing sprang up as told.

“Turn and attack that Ye fellow!” Hanyu gritted her teeth in fury.

Yi Bing hesitated, but then whipped off his belt and swung it around, and—at his will—a massive roast rabbit leg smashed down at He Bo-yang’s head. He Bo-yang never expected a sneak attack from a rabbit leg. Fortunately, his reflexes were sharp; he flipped backward to dodge, but his clothes were smeared with oil.

“You little brat...” He Bo-yang was stunned. First, he hadn’t expected the chubby youth to give up fleeing and counterattack; second, he hadn’t guessed his belt was, in fact, a roast rabbit leg—as a weapon, no less! The other Zhengjia disciples also paused, thrown off by this bizarre turn.

“Attack!” Hanyu prodded Yi Bing with her foreleg.

“But how?”

“However you want! Misty Cloud Sect will hold the defense!” Hanyu had already seen through the formation: the Xuanwu array used the turtle for defense and the snake for attack. Jin Guishan’s insistence on holding the turtle’s position meant he only hoped for a draw, so whatever happened at the snake’s position wouldn’t affect the outcome.

“Oh!” Yi Bing, though puzzled, obeyed. He lifted the rabbit leg and hacked at He Bo-yang. He Bo-yang dared not neglect him, blocking and countering with his sword. Yi Bing charged too quickly to stop himself; the sword’s edge was about to strike his chest. He gasped in fear.

In the blink of an eye, Jin Guishan and Qi Yuanxiao rushed in with their swords, parrying and forcing He Bo-yang back two steps.

“Thank you both for saving me! Eh?” Before Yi Bing could finish, Jin Guishan and Qi Yuanxiao had already withdrawn, leaving him alone before He Bo-yang. As He Bo-yang advanced, sword ready, Yi Bing tried to flee, but Hanyu kicked him hard from behind: “Hey!”

“Oh!” He had no choice but to grit his teeth and face his opponent.

With just one move, He Bo-yang realized Yi Bing was no match for him—only the rabbit leg in his hand was troublesome.

“Hit him!” Hanyu ordered in a low voice.

“Again?” Yi Bing asked, but his hand didn’t hesitate, bringing the “chicken leg” down on He Bo-yang’s head. He Bo-yang leapt to his side and struck at Yi Bing’s nape with his sword.

“Oh no!” Yi Bing’s first thought was that Hanyu would be struck! He spun to face the blade himself, but Fat Girl rushed in to block it, saving his life.

“You fool! Can’t you just duck?” Hanyu was both angry and grateful. “Turn that chicken leg—hmm?—into a sword! When I say jump, jump. When I say strike, strike!” Yi Bing, frightened and sweating, quickly transformed the rabbit leg into a sword, and followed Hanyu’s commands step by step.

Hanyu had picked up a few moves of chaotic swordplay, but couldn’t direct Yi Bing to use the full technique—after all, this was Misty Cloud Sect’s battle, and it wouldn’t do to use another sect’s skills. She could only issue simple commands: up, right, diagonal thrusts. Yi Bing, surprisingly perceptive, stumbled through her instructions without error, attacking He Bo-yang so unexpectedly that he was left bewildered. “How has this kid suddenly gotten so good?” Little did he know, Hanyu was coaching from inside the bundle.

But as He Bo-yang’s attacks grew fiercer, Yi Bing and Hanyu began to fall behind. Jin Guishan, sensing danger, called his comrades to act; water jets burst forth with their swords, converging into a powerful stream. Zhengjia disciples responded in kind, flames gathering at He Bo-yang’s sword tip to meet them head-on. Unexpectedly, Misty Cloud Sect’s water jet split in two—Jin Guishan directing one to the left, Qi Yuanxiao to the right. The Zhengjia disciples were thrown into disarray, but He Bo-yang remained calm, reciting incantations and forming seals. His sword’s flame split into two streams to counterattack.

“Impressive!” This time Jin Guishan was the astonished one. He Bo-yang managed to control two streams with perfect coordination, engaging both Jin Guishan and Qi Yuanxiao at once.

“Stab him!” Hanyu shouted as an opening appeared before He Bo-yang. Yi Bing lunged forward, but just as his strike was about to land, He Bo-yang’s sword tip flicked, splitting off a third fiery jet that shot straight at Yi Bing’s face.

“Aiya...” Yi Bing couldn’t stop in time, about to become roast pork.

“Change... change...” Hanyu’s voice trembled.

Yi Bing no longer knew what to transform his weapon into. The first thing that flashed through his mind was the large iron pot his senior brother had used with his telekinesis. At his thought, his sword instantly became a giant iron cauldron, blocking the spray of flames, which rebounded to scorch He Bo-yang’s head and face black. Whether it was the pot’s weight or Yi Bing’s own, he crashed right into He Bo-yang, knocking him clear off the stage. The Zhengjia disciples, their fire gone, were caught off guard and swept from the platform by the water jets.

“You—you're not even from Misty—” He Bo-yang, furious and embarrassed, tried not to lose face, springing to his feet.

“Bo-yang!” Suddenly, Daoist Feixu leaped onto the stage with a sharp cry. “A loss is a loss, do not quibble!”

“Master...” He Bo-yang wanted to protest that Yi Bing wasn’t a Misty Cloud Sect disciple, and thus their victory was unfair, but his master’s fierce glare silenced him. Daoist Feixu understood his meaning, but since no one had objected at the beginning, to raise it now would look bad before the crowd. Initially, he had calculated that a seven-man array used by six would give Zhengjia Sect a reputation for magnanimity, but the single weak point had instead produced a dark horse that caught everyone off guard.

“Hahaha... Bo-yang, remember—Zhengjia and Misty Cloud are one family. How could your master not know the subtleties of the Xuanwu Array? Each sect has its strengths; you sought victory and advanced too hastily! Winning and losing are unimportant—what matters most is to learn and gain insight from this encounter. Now, thank your Uncle Jin for this lesson!” Daoist Feixu spoke as if it were all his plan, and the defeat due only to his intention for Bo-yang to learn; by saying Bo-yang was “too eager for accomplishment,” it implied that otherwise, victory would have been theirs.

“It was merely a friendly exchange—no lesson given!” Jin Guishan quickly stopped He Bo-yang from bowing.

“Thank you for your guidance, Uncle!” He Bo-yang saluted.

“You are too kind!” Jin Guishan was fuming inside, but kept a polite face.

“Everyone! This match goes to Misty Cloud Sect! After these days of effort...” Daoist Feixu pretended ignorance and launched into a grand speech about how, under his leadership, the Zhengjia Sect’s Immortal Cultivation Conference was a great success.

“‘Goes to’... Senior Brother, did you hear what he said?” He Lingchi couldn’t help grumbling.

Daoist Feixu rambled on for half an hour before finally announcing the conference’s end. Aside from the contestants, who were taken to the rear hall to rest and await guidance, everyone else came forward to bid Daoist Feixu farewell. Only as dusk fell did Yingshen Palace finally quiet down.

Those seated in the rear hall were famished, but Daoist Feixu did not appear; only two young acolytes stood silently at the door. As the group began to grow restless, He Bo-yang entered with a beaming smile, now bathed and resplendent once more.

“Everyone, my master has gone ahead to Guiyuan Cave to await the Grandmaster, and has arranged for me to escort you to the rear hall for dinner. After the meal, please proceed to Guiyuan Cave to hear the teaching.” He Bo-yang was polite and deferential, which calmed the crowd.

“Please, please...” He Bo-yang led the way, glancing sheepishly at Jin Guishan. “By the way, Uncle Jin, the thousand taels of gold will be presented after the teaching.”

“No rush, no rush!” Jin Guishan replied with a bow.

The rear hall had already been prepared with food. Though it was simple fare, after such a day of struggle, no one minded; they quickly wolfed down every last morsel. After a short rest, a young acolyte arrived with a lantern to guide the party to Guiyuan Cave.

“Everyone, please! My master awaits you at Guiyuan Cave!” Upon leaving the rear hall, He Bo-yang greeted them. Guiyuan Cave was said to be the place where Zhengjia Sect’s ancestors had attained immortality. Even without the teaching, visiting such a sacred spot was considered a great fortune, and spirits were high.

Behind Yingshen Palace, a gentle slope spread out, lush with grass and blooming flowers, the moonlight adding a sense of serenity. Below, a dense forest of ancient pines and cypresses swayed in the evening breeze.

“How refreshing!” The group exclaimed, especially Yi Bing and Fat Girl, whose hardy constitutions relished the cool air.

“Guiyuan Cave lies deep in the woods. Please keep close behind me and do not wander!” He Bo-yang laughed. “The paths here are confusing; lose your way, and you may miss the Grandmaster’s teaching—you’ll have only yourself to blame!”

“Brothers and sisters, Brother Mu—stay together! This place is no ordinary ground!” Jin Guishan whispered urgently. He recalled his master’s tales of a celestial cave in a densely wooded area near Zhengjia Sect, its paths as tangled as a labyrinth, where many a cultivator had gotten lost—this must be the place.

Indeed, the forest was dim and cold, the wind cutting to the bone. Misty Cloud disciples took the rear, keeping close to the Qingxin Sect ahead. The deeper they went, the narrower the path became—sometimes only one could pass at a time. After several twists and turns, Yi Bing and Fat Girl found themselves at the very back, chilled by the breeze and glancing nervously over their shoulders.

Before long, the procession suddenly halted. From the front came shouts: He Bo-yang and the Zhengjia disciples were missing. Jin Guishan and Qi Yuanxiao hurried forward and met Xuan Shan of the Jade Immortal Sect at the head of the line. Perhaps because Misty Cloud had just bested Zhengjia, Xuan Shan was especially friendly: “Brother Daoist, at the last fork, a strange sound came from the woods. Looking up, we saw a red-billed sparrow, which vanished in a flash. When we turned back, Brother Ye and his party were gone! Now we don’t know whether to go left or right.”

“We called out, but there was no answer...” added another Jade Immortal disciple.

“Strange, strange indeed!” Suddenly, Ru Zhen walked over, muttering to himself.

“Junior Brother?” Xuan Shan called.

“For some reason, I cannot fly up—as if there’s a wall above!” Ru Zhen fell silent again. Xuan Shan tried his own incantations, but remained earthbound. Seeing the South Bridge Sect disciples behind him, Jin Guishan had an idea: “Brother Daoist, could you...?”

“Shameful, shameful! I can’t move them...” Before Jin Guishan could finish, the South Bridge disciple frowned and confessed. He had been trying all along, but not a single tree budged.

“In that case, Brother Daoist, let your sect lead the way, and we’ll follow close behind, with Misty Cloud Sect at the rear. What do you think?” Jin Guishan asked Xuan Shan.

“So be it.” Xuan Shan agreed, and led the party down the left fork.

The forest paths widened and narrowed, sometimes allowing side-by-side passage, sometimes only single file. The group alternated between fast and slow, frequently stopping, until the party was scattered among the trees. Only Misty Cloud Sect, with Jin Guishan’s constant calls, kept tightly together.

Soon, the path opened into a vast clearing, wide enough to hold dozens at once.

“Brother Daoist, this is a dead end!” Xuan Shan told Jin Guishan, who had just caught up. They looked around: there was no exit, only a dense wall of branches, not even a gap for a person to squeeze through.

“Something’s wrong...” Hanyu whispered in Yi Bing’s ear.