Chapter Twenty-One: First Arrival at the Secret Realm

Han Bingyan, with cautious determination, slowly reached his hand toward the Jade Disc of Creation, uncertain of what awaited him. Little did he know that, as he undertook this act, someone hidden in the shadows was watching his every move with keen interest. That person was Han Liang, the head of the family.

She had already discerned that this “Han Bingran” was not truly her granddaughter. Strangely, Han Liang did not try to stop him as she had during the day, but merely observed in silence.

In truth, Han Liang had long suspected that Bingyan would not give up so easily, so she had deliberately concealed herself in the small building, waiting for his arrival. To her surprise, it was her precious granddaughter Han Bingran who entered. “No, that’s not Ran’er,” Han Liang noticed something amiss as she scrutinized the girl. “It’s… Bingyan?!”

A wave of unprecedented tension swept over Han Bingyan; his body trembled uncontrollably. As his hand touched the Jade Disc, it was as if a metallic clang echoed in the depths of his heart. Bingyan waited in silence for a while, but the Jade Disc made not even the slightest response.

“Am I not the one, after all?” Bingyan thought in disappointment, timidly withdrawing his hand. “Of course, how could it possibly be me? It was all just my own wishful thinking.”

Bingyan was not the only one disappointed. Hidden in the shadows, Han Liang also felt a pang of regret. Heaving a sigh, she mocked herself internally: Why did I place my hopes on Bingyan too? I knew it was impossible—after all, she… Sigh, I must really be getting old and muddled.

“If Bingyan cannot become the Feathered Prophet, I must carry out my own plan. Bingyan, do not blame me…” What this plan entailed was unclear, but from her tone, it was clear it would bode ill for Han Bingyan. Placing her hands on the ground, Han Liang summoned her inner energy and formed a series of shifting gestures. Instantly, a large formation appeared on the ground, centered on Bingyan.

Lost in disappointment, Bingyan noticed none of these details. By the time he became aware, the formation upon the ground was already glowing with dazzling white light. “What is this?” he exclaimed in surprise, squatting down to reach out and touch the glowing patterns. Suddenly, his expression changed as he recalled his sister’s warning: to prevent theft of the family treasure, there might be a formation laid around the Jade Disc, one which would activate in the event of suspicious activity.

Indeed, Han Bingran had spoken true. The formation Han Liang activated was specifically designed to protect the Jade Disc, though Han Bingran did not know it had to be triggered manually.

The white light from the protective array grew brighter and brighter, and to Bingyan’s horror, he found himself unable to move, as if frozen in place. The light twisted and coiled like iron chains, wrapping around him layer by layer, until his entire body was engulfed.

Han Liang looked on with satisfaction at the result of her actions. She intended to send Han Bingyan to a distant place from which he could never return. Heh… everything would be forever impossible for him now! Yet, in her certainty, Han Liang failed to notice that at the very peak of the formation’s power, when the portal opened and the white light was at its most intense, a faint purple glow shot forth from the Jade Disc—a subtle radiance, almost imperceptible.

Just before Bingyan’s body vanished, the purple light enveloped him, like a thin suit of armor. In the brief moment when the white light faded, Han Bingyan was whisked away by the purple glow.

After the blinding white light faded, the small building returned to silence and deathly stillness. “It’s over,” Han Liang finally breathed a sigh of relief. Compared to the well-being of the entire clan, sacrificing one Han Bingyan was, in her view, entirely acceptable.

※※※ Feathered ※※※ Emperor ※※※

“Where is this? Wasn’t I just in the small building? Yes… the formation!” During the intense light, Han Bingyan had been forced to shut his eyes, but upon opening them, he found himself transported to an unfamiliar place.

Mountains rose continuously on either side without a break; before him stood countless towering peaks. Directly ahead, some three hundred meters away, was a mountain of astonishing height. Only then did Bingyan realize that he himself stood atop a high peak as well. Between the two mountains yawned a deep, bottomless chasm. Purple mists curled around the summits, imparting a sense of sacred solemnity—especially the tallest peak, which soared straight into the clouds, utterly out of reach.

Never before had Han Bingyan seen such majestic, sheer cliffs. His astonishment and curiosity quickly swept away any lingering fear from his arrival.

Turning his head, Bingyan was struck speechless. His eyes, trembling with disbelief, fell upon the opposite cliff face: smooth and flawless, not a wrinkle or crack to be seen, as if it had been sliced with a razor-sharp blade. Yet what astonished him most was not the smoothness, but the enormous, golden characters carved upon it, glowing with radiant light!

They were arranged in two columns on either side. On the right, it read:

Heaven and earth are merciless, treating all things as straw dogs!
If immortals are not truly immortal, I am willing to forsake myself and become a demon!

On the left, it read:

What is the nature of the heartless? Human! God! Immortal! Buddha! Ghost! Monster! Demon!
The essence of the Heavenly Dao, the Sovereign of Feathers! Neither human, nor god, nor immortal, nor buddha, nor ghost, nor monster, nor demon!

The impact of these words upon him was overwhelming. Who could possibly have soared across to carve such powerful, soul-stirring words into the stone? The mystery was astounding. Moreover, these words evoked in Bingyan a strange sense of familiarity, as if resonating deep within his soul, immersing him in boundless contemplation, as if witnessing the myriad transformations at the birth of the universe…

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed through his mind, and Han Bingyan fell into a deep unconsciousness.

A strange phenomenon occurred at the very moment Bingyan collapsed: the purple clouds shrouding the peaks seemed to respond to some mysterious summons, converging upon him from all directions.

His body, wrapped in the cloud, was gently lifted into the air, floating above the ground…

“Child, it is not yet your time to be here. Allow me to send you back,” came a deep, solemn voice from all around—at once distant and commanding, yet tinged with the weary tenderness of an elder’s care.

When the purple mist dissipated, Han Bingyan had vanished from the sky. He had been sent back to where he had come from.