Chapter Eighty-Two: Sacrifice of Su Su at the Seven Star Tower

As the omniscient observer waged his torrential battle with the immortals, a terrifying event was quietly unfolding in the capital of the Great Xia, Yudu. The entire city seemed to fall under some bewitchment; the citizens, having lost all sense of self, surged mindlessly into the towering Seven Star Pagoda. The pagoda, once a sacred and mysterious edifice, now appeared as an ancient altar in full bloom, its uppermost pavilions unfurling like the petals of a great lotus upon the waters, radiating outward in majestic splendor.

Within the royal palace, King Jie of Xia was powerless to summon his ministers and generals, for none of them knew of Grand Preceptor Yuan Ji’s wicked scheme. Like the rest, they too had succumbed to the enchantment and rushed heedlessly into the Seven Star Pagoda, jostling and pressing forward as if in a frantic hurry to be reborn. The spectacle was both tragic and terrifying.

In the heart of the lotus atop the pagoda stood a figure for whom Su Moran and Su Qianshu harbored the deepest concern—the Empress of the Nine Barbarians, Susu. Her emerald robes fluttered in the wind, dancing wildly about her, rendering her a vision of haunting beauty against the backdrop of the seven-petaled lotus. A faint greenish halo rippled from her, illuminating the skies above Yudu.

King Jie, supported by Chamberlain Zhao, alighted from his carriage beyond the palace gates. The sight before him sent his mind reeling—grief and regret crashing through his heart like a storm. Tears of remorse traced the lines of his suddenly aged face. Witnessing the chaos engulfing his city, with officials and commoners alike transformed into wandering souls, he felt as though he had aged decades in an instant, nearly collapsing where he stood. All of Yudu had become a city of the dead, with its people pouring endlessly into the Seven Star Pagoda, now a tower of endless reincarnation.

Meanwhile, at Menghu Pass, a million-strong army of Xia had assembled, while the allied forces of Shang, fresh from a long forced march, swept through, routing the thousands of Xia cavalry left to guard the rear, and swiftly capturing Undying Pass and Black Tortoise Pass. Once their forces occupied Black Tortoise Pass, the Shang coalition’s chief commander, Chancellor Zhong Hui, ordered his army to hold position outside the pass, wary of the treacherous terrain before Menghu Pass. He dispatched the Six Knights of the Cave Heaven, leading a thousand light cavalry, to reconnoiter the road ahead. The main force of over a million soldiers made camp, awaiting orders.

Standing before his men, Chancellor Zhong Hui declared, “Menghu Pass ahead is easily defended and hard to assault. If we recklessly attack, we may fall into Xia’s trap, surrounded by mountains and unable to advance or retreat!”

The various feudal lords all pledged, “We stand ready to follow the Chancellor’s command!”

On the other side, Grand Tutor Ranlong marshaled the Xia forces in defensive formation before Menghu Pass. He ordered Guo Jingyuan, the Four-Eyed, Six-Eared General, to lead two hundred thousand troops as the vanguard against the Shang onslaught, with four heroic commanders and six hundred thousand men arrayed in wing formations to support General Guo’s charge. The chieftain of the One-Eyed Giants hoisted Ranlong onto his massive shoulder, giving him a commanding view of the field. Ranlong then directed the remaining one hundred thousand troops and the rest of the One-Eyed Giants to lay ambushes within the forested mountains. Should the Shang army attempt to force the pass, they would be met by a deadly barrage of rolling stones.

So the two armies were at a stalemate—Xia in a position both easy to defend and attack, while Shang found every step forward fraught with peril. Without some extraordinary intervention, Menghu Pass would be impossible to breach.

...

Far away from the battle lines between Yu and Liang, in the region of Jingzhou, at Yunmeng Marsh by Xiakou, a certain impoverished immortal named Li was enjoying wine and the scenery. By chance, he looked back and beheld an old man with white hair, riding a green ox and holding a fly-whisk, approaching at a leisurely pace.

Yunmeng Marsh at Xiakou was shrouded in immortal mist, nestled beneath the great Dabie Mountains of Jingzhou, with rivers, marshes, and forests encircling it—a veritable paradise. Li dwelled in a cottage and pavilion by the water, built for him by the people of Jingzhou, who knew he disliked temples and thus constructed a lakeside refuge instead.

As the old man entered the pavilion, Li greeted him with proper courtesy. This guest was none other than the Supreme Lord Laozi himself, one of the Three Pure Sages of the Xuandu Grotto.

After they entered, Laozi dismounted, smiled, and with a wave of his divine hand conjured a black-and-white chessboard upon the table. Li, recognizing the gesture, smiled and took a seat. Choosing the white pieces, he quickly played several moves; the board was soon surrounded by white, and the black pieces were nearly vanquished. Li’s gaze grew profound as he asked, “What brings you here today, venerable one?”

Laozi flicked his whisk, smiling openly, and spoke without reserve, “I have long said, you are not truly a native of this world, yet in another sense you are. Why have you never responded to this?”

“We all strive to survive in this world; that is the way of things, though it is never truly ordinary. This world is wondrous, its marvels beyond comprehension, its mysteries unfathomable! Among the Three Realms and Six Paths, mortals are rare; beyond the Five Elements lies an endless cosmos, vast and unknown. Even with my millennia of cultivation, I cannot divine your origins—are you a sage of old, or one yet to come? You should not be in this world, and yet at this time of turmoil, you have broken through the order to enter. You belong neither to the Three Realms nor are you bound by the Five Elements. Am I mistaken?”

Li smiled, unconcerned. “As for when and where I was born, that matters little. Now, with the heavens in upheaval, the Three Realms in chaos, mortals and spirits suffering, the lords of the Nine Provinces rising in fury, and Heaven’s will choosing a new mortal king—these are destined events. After this calamity, both the immortal and mortal realms will return to equilibrium, and the world will flourish for four or five centuries. Peace will reign among mortals and immortals; this is the true task. My presence here, then, is but in accordance with Heaven’s will—not an act of defiance.”

“If so, why not act?” Laozi rose, whisk in hand, and divined in secret. “It is as you say, but it will only increase the slaughter. In this time of chaos, with immortals meddling in mortal affairs, they entangle themselves in cause and effect, bringing disaster to Heaven itself. Disrespect for the Way will bring retribution. I have come for two reasons: first, to invite you to co-author a List of Deification; second, this list would draw both immortals and mortals, assigning them new divine stations in the outer heavens and the celestial court; third, to resolve the great catastrophe threatening the immortals and the gods!”

Li gave a noncommittal smile. “The list of deification is a matter of destiny. The teachings of humanity and interception must be balanced—so it must be.”

“How do you see it?” Laozi asked with a knowing smile.

“The so-called calamity among the immortals is but a matter of the Great Dao—fifty parts, forty-nine manifest, but the last is supreme, and should be reserved as a sliver of hope for all immortals and beings. Calamity is interception; interception begets chaos, and so cause and effect continue. A thousand years ago, during the Lich calamity, the seeds were sown. This is Heaven’s decree, the will of the Dao.”

“So you mean, my junior brother’s followers—the Sect of Interception—ignored the rules, lacked discipline, and thus are the root of this disaster, as Heaven intended?”

Li laughed. “You already see through it, why state it aloud?”

“The immortals of the Interception Sect are not like those of the Human Path or the Explication Sect. Their doctrine is without discrimination, loving all beings, but they lack restraint. That is why they must suffer Heaven’s wrath. Now that the punishment begins, they cannot escape the great tribulation.”

“To suffer this is the destiny of my junior brother’s sect—unchangeable?” Laozi asked in regret.

“There is no solution,” Li replied, equally regretful, shaking his head. “Not all who cultivate the Dao can become true immortals.”

Laozi mounted his green ox and soared into the clouds, singing as he waved his whisk, “Since you are not truly immortal, stray thoughts are inevitable!” His parting voice lingered in the pavilion: “In a year of the immortal realm, the List of Deification will be created, Shang will rise as Xia falls, and a thread of hope will be preserved.”

Watching Laozi depart, Li bowed in respect, marveling, “Supreme Lord Laozi, your foresight is unparalleled!” He was struck with awe—events centuries hence in the mortal world were already foreseen by this great figure of Xuandu.

Suddenly, Li turned sharply toward Yuzhou, narrowing his eyes. Black and sinister energy spiraled skyward, with clouds gathering to blot out the sun. The vanished Laozi’s voice sounded from the clouds: “Great calamity is coming; Shang shall prosper, Xia shall fall!”

Upon hearing this, Li calculated and divined, his expression growing grave. While Shang’s rise had always been destined, some new variable was emerging—this black energy seemed to herald the awakening of ancient demon gods. Such a sign, visible to all in the Nine Provinces, was certainly no auspicious omen.

...

At that moment, in Yudu’s Yang City, the lotus atop the Seven Star Pagoda was in full bloom. At its heart, Empress Susu’s eyes drooped in drowsiness, unaware she had been placed upon a sacrificial altar. She was about to undergo an ancient and mysterious rite of the Wu tribe. Yuan Ji stood before her, gazing toward Menghu Pass, waiting for the souls of the dead to gather, for the masses to be consumed within the pagoda. Once the grievances of the dead filled the Seven Star Pagoda, the sacrificial lotus would turn a shade of black and gold void.

Just then, shrouded in black energy, Susu’s eyes slowly opened, their depths now reflecting a dark and baleful light. She seemed possessed by a demon, the air around her thick with killing intent and violence.

Her emerald dress billowed, black energy swirling about her. Yuan Ji hovered before her, eyes closed and smiling, as though awaiting some momentous event, her elegant, eerie smile laden with anticipation.

Suddenly, a figure in spotless white, radiant as snow, appeared a hundred yards away from Yuan Ji, the two suspended in midair. It was none other than Su Moran, the Fox of Qingqiu, who had learned of Susu’s peril through the Phoenix Goldfinch and rushed to her rescue.

Sensing his approach, Yuan Ji opened her eyes with a cold, proud voice. “You have come alone? I have been awaiting you for quite some time.”

Seeing Susu’s demonic state and the city’s people reduced to wandering souls, Su Moran’s rage flared. “It’s long been said your Wu tribe is akin to demons. Seeing this today, I believe it!”

“Demon or immortal—if the tables were turned, who could say which is which?” Yuan Ji replied languidly. “What is a demon? Merely one who threatens your interests. Was it not your own demon tribe who slaughtered my people—Kuafu, Dayi, Chiyou, Xingtian, Xiangliu? Now only I remain among the great Wu. Do you know what I have endured these thousand years?”

Su Moran was stunned and silent.

Yuan Ji’s eyes were mesmerizing, her presence commanding. “For a thousand years I have waited for this day, for the revival of my tribe. Had Luo Yu not trespassed into the underworld and discovered that the Eastern Emperor had reincarnated, I would never have troubled the demon tribe at all. Yet fate is ever changeable. The Empress herself, blessed by White Emperor Bai Huangan’s legacy and possessing the rare Jade Green Fox constitution, is the perfect sacrifice for the great ancestors of my tribe—a thousand times more effective! Ah, hahahaha!”

Su Moran stared coldly at Yuan Ji, her madness sending chills down his spine.

...

“Hahaha! Such petty tricks—how could they bind me? Break!”

Meanwhile, far away at Undying Pass, the battle among the immortals had shifted yet again. Zhao Gongming, the Black Tiger Immortal, suddenly burst free from his restraints in the void. In the blink of an eye, his immortal body was restored and he roared with laughter.

“You truly underestimated me! For nearly a thousand years, I have never regarded you as a threat. Now, let me show you why I am the foremost of the Four Great Immortal Lords of our order!”

What fate awaits? Find out in the next chapter.