Chapter 68: Outside Lumen City Lies the Deer Platform (6)
By the time Bai Chunsheng realized what was happening, he immediately lifted his head—and everything around him returned to normal.
Those people had resumed their noisy bickering as if nothing had changed.
No way…
Bai Chunsheng suddenly felt an increasing sense of unease. It was as if these people only existed to put on a performance for him. Like a deliberately staged play, it would end the moment there was no audience.
It was far too strange. Bai Chunsheng couldn’t help tightening his grip on his sword—he had never encountered such a bizarre situation before.
Just as he was debating whether to charge in and capture “Hong Chunfeng” to force out some answers, a small window on the second floor of the tile-roofed building beside him slid open. A plain-looking man tossed out a crumpled ball of paper. It nearly landed on Bai Chunsheng’s shoulder, but he instinctively batted it away with his sword. Then, he quickly turned to look in the direction it came from.
As soon as he turned his head, the man leaning by the window let out a gasp of surprise.
Bai Chunsheng reached up and touched his face—his mask was gone.
The man wasn’t wearing the thick makeup of the fishing village residents. Instead, he had on a yellow inner shirt with an oddly mismatched white outer robe. He snapped out of his surprise quickly and whispered urgently to Bai Chunsheng, “It’s almost dark—hurry up and come inside!”
Bai Chunsheng narrowed his eyes but didn’t follow him right away. “Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter who I am. If you want to live, you’d better follow me,” the man replied.
Other than the noise from the villagers, Bai Chunsheng stayed silent and calmly watched him. The man seemed to sense that Bai Chunsheng wasn’t easy to deal with. He sighed and added, “Once night falls, this town becomes dangerous. Believe me or not, it’s up to you.”
Bai Chunsheng thought it over, then turned to glance at the crowded street. The people’s eyes were vacant and lifeless—eerily unsettling. The sun was barely holding onto the horizon. Whether or not the man was telling the truth, he at least appeared to be the only sane person in sight.
And who knew where that guy Yan Yi was now, or when he’d find him.
While considering his options, Bai Chunsheng circled around to the front hall and ascended the stairs to the empty room where the man had been waiting. Throughout the whole process, none of the villagers—busy with their own tasks—paid him any attention.
The room by the window was completely bare, save for a few scattered red candles on the floor. The man, still leaning by the window, shut it once Bai Chunsheng entered.
The room instantly became very quiet. In the center, one red candle burned steadily, with an iron bowl placed underneath to catch the dripping wax.
The man walked over slowly, as if he had an injury or some other ailment, then sat cross-legged on the floor. “You must be here to explore the ruins too, right? What year is it outside now?”
Bai Chunsheng didn’t answer his question. “What ruins? Isn’t this Changliu Mountain?”
“Changliu Mountain?” The man repeated with a puzzled tone. “Is that what this place is called?”
Bai Chunsheng didn’t mind being tricked into revealing something. After all, that was the only name he knew. “You don’t even know this is Changliu Mountain—how did you get in here?”
The man’s eyes grew unfocused, as if trying to recall something. “My senior brother found it. Something went wrong with the ruins, and they became different from before. All of us ended up getting trapped here.”
So his meaning was—other than being teleported into Changliu Mountain via the Lingyu Mountain puppet, there were people who could find its exact location and enter it directly.
Bai Chunsheng asked, “If you came with a group, why are you the only one left?”
The man replied, “It’s a long story. This space is extremely strange. The locals in the village, whether native or outsider, can’t see us outsiders at all. None of our spells work either—we’re no better than mortals in here. But one thing stands out: cultivators who’ve reached the fasting stage don’t seem to feel hunger here. So I suspect this place isn’t entirely cut off from the outside world.”
In cultivation, once a person reached a certain level, they could enter a fasting state, absorbing and filtering spiritual energy from the air to sustain themselves. Bai Chunsheng had some awareness of this too. After all, he was a demon by nature—if his cultivation were truly stripped away, there was no way he’d be able to maintain human form.
That meant the town must have some way of connecting to the outside world.
The man continued, “The most dangerous time is at night. I’ve survived here for a long while. If you’re not in a lit, empty room before night falls—you’ll vanish. And once someone disappears, they never come back.”
He gave a bitter laugh before introducing himself. “I’m Nan Chiye, from the Honglan Pavilion of the Bibo Spirit Realm. Where are you from? And how are things outside now? Do you know what’s become of Honglan Pavilion? I used to be the second elder. When we came to explore this place, the sect leader and seven elders were with me. Now, I’m the only one left. If the situation outside is dire, then…”
As soon as Bai Chunsheng heard that, he knew this man must have entered before the spiritual power turbulence in the Bibo Spirit Realm.
Now even the dragon clan had fled to the Water Abyss Realm. There was no way a human sect like Honglan Pavilion could have survived in the Bibo Spirit Realm.
Not wanting to go into the bleak state of the outside world, Bai Chunsheng simply said, “Bai Dongqu, wandering cultivator from the Southern Region.”
Nan Chiye understood that Bai Chunsheng was claiming to be a low-level rogue cultivator from the South who wouldn’t know much about the Bibo Spirit Realm, and didn’t press the topic further. “Just now, you said this place is Changliu Mountain. Why do you think so?”
Bai Chunsheng guessed that the Lingyu Mountain puppet wasn’t the only requirement for entering the ruins. Since Nan Chiye had shared so many useful clues, Bai Chunsheng wasn’t stingy either. He gave a slightly vague explanation: “My friend and I got our hands on two crow puppets from the master of a secret realm. These puppets retained a bit of memory, and in that memory was information about this ruin. That’s how I ended up here.”
Damn it!
Suddenly, a terrible thought struck Bai Chunsheng. That day, when he had put away the puppets, both Lingyu Mountain puppets were in his possession. What if they only transported him into Changliu Mountain?
What if Yan Yi had been sent straight to the real Bibo Spirit Realm?
What would he do then? He’d be completely helpless—no one to answer his call, nowhere to turn.
Bai Chunsheng was overwhelmed with panic.
Of all times, Yan Yi had to disappear now—what was he supposed to do?
Nan Chiye didn’t know whether or not he believed the words coming out of Bai Chunsheng’s mouth. He stayed silent for a while, then spoke, as though something had just occurred to him. “Of course, there are other dangers here too. People die. But those who die here aren’t like ordinary people. The day after their death, these ‘people’ reappear—under the identity of someone from out of town.”
It sounded like something he had experienced firsthand. His tone and expression were both heavy with emotion. “Whatever you do, do not, under any circumstances, interact too much with the town’s residents—even if they can’t see you.”
Bai Chunsheng also recalled the man named “Hong Chunfeng.” This seemed to offer some explanation for why he had appeared here. He was probably killed by the puppets of Lingyu Mountain, and that’s why he reappeared in this place after death. If that was the case, then there was no longer any need to look for “Hong Chunfeng.”
Bai Chunsheng asked, “Is there a way out? Do you have any leads?”
Nan Chiye, whose face had just been full of worry, suddenly had a crazed gleam in his eyes. “Why would I want to leave? This place might be the inheritance site of a Mahayana cultivator. If I can unravel the mystery of this town, I’ll inherit everything he left behind. Why should I want to leave?”
Bai Chunsheng instinctively felt that something was wrong. Nan Chiye continued, “I’ve also discovered something else. If you kill one of the town’s residents, as long as no one finds the body, you can put on their clothes. That’s the only way to blend in. They recognize clothing, not faces. Otherwise, they won’t even be able to see you.”
Bai Chunsheng looked at the white robe Nan Chiye was wearing and frowned. He now understood how this man had survived. “You killed someone from the town?”
Without showing any emotion, he slid his hand into his sleeve, gripping his sword. The moment Nan Chiye showed even the slightest sign of instability, Bai Chunsheng would strike first.
Nan Chiye nodded, a trace of pride on his face. “Of course.”
Bai Chunsheng’s frown deepened. Then he relaxed a bit, picked up a candle from the ground, and smiled. “I want to see the fishing village at night. I’ll head out and have a look—maybe I’ll find some clues.”
“There’s nothing out there,” Nan Chiye didn’t seem to think much of Bai Chunsheng’s plan. “Having a candle doesn’t guarantee you’ll be safe from the darkness. My junior brother disappeared into the darkness just like that. You should stay. Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to find a lone resident.”
Bai Chunsheng stood up and shook his head. “I have my own plan.”
“Well, that’s fine too,” Nan Chiye also stood up. He walked two circles around the candle, seeming anxiously deep in thought. The flickering red-yellow flame distorted his face ever so slightly.
He scratched his head with one hand while reaching into his robe with the other, as if trying to retrieve something. “Since you insist on going, I’ll give you something—just in case you really vanish. If you’re gone… I’m afraid no other living person will make it in here.”
He muttered this over and over in a low voice. Then he raised his voice to normal and said to Bai Chunsheng, “Come a little closer.”
Bai Chunsheng did take a few steps closer to Nan Chiye. But just as his back foot settled, a flash of silver gleamed under the candlelight, thrusting straight toward his chest. What Nan Chiye had pulled from his robes was a small knife.
Bai Chunsheng dodged to the side, avoiding Nan Chiye’s strike with speed and agility.
Nan Chiye, on the other hand, moved clumsily. His crooked left leg kicked over the iron bowl in the center of the room that held candle oil. He tripped and rolled across the floor, his head smacking into the wall with a loud bang—and then everything fell silent.
Bai Chunsheng stood there, barely having moved. “…”
He cautiously waited until half the candle had burned down. When he confirmed that Nan Chiye hadn’t stirred at all, he walked over and flipped the body. On the wooden wall, a long splinter had come loose due to decay. Nan Chiye’s neck had landed squarely on that sharp point. Blood stained half the wooden wall. No wonder he had died so completely.
After examining the body, Bai Chunsheng understood why Nan Chiye had died in such an awkward, undignified way. From his waist downward, Nan Chiye’s body had transformed into a strange kind of jade. It looked and felt like human skin, but when Bai Chunsheng tried cutting into his calf with a small knife, no blood came out—the wound revealed a texture just like jade.
No wonder Nan Chiye walked so oddly. He had tried hard to hide it. Remembering what the man had said, Bai Chunsheng couldn’t help but grow suspicious of the residents in the village. Could they all be made from the same kind of jade?
Lingyu Mountain Puppets… Lingyu Mountain Puppets… Could it be—
Bai Chunsheng sat back down, deciding not to venture outside on the first night after all.
Later that night, when the candle was nearly burned out, he casually picked a new one from the floor and lit it again. Nan Chiye’s corpse lay directly in front of him. Bai Chunsheng didn’t dare sleep, so he sat staring at the body, thinking about what he should do once daylight came.
His gaze wandered to the white robe that Nan Chiye had worn over a yellow inner garment.
—Nan Chiye had said that only by wearing a local’s white robe could one blend into the town. No wonder he was dressed that way—there was already a yellow robe inside, and he had to add an outer layer over it.
This white robe must’ve belonged to a local resident Nan Chiye had killed.
A spark lit in Bai Chunsheng’s eyes.
He walked over, stripped off the white robe Nan Chiye had worn, and put it on himself.
Author’s Note:
Bai Chunsheng: What’s going on? I can’t move anymore QAQ. There was a pit in front. Bai Chunsheng dodged it and walked past.
A while later, Bai Chunsheng came walking back and happily jumped right into the pit.
Yan Jingqiu looked on in silence. What kind of beautiful idiot is this?
This silly fool is too foolish.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
