When Gao Yang learned the Immortal Mistress would return in three days, unease settled into his bones. The air itself seemed heavier.
By now, Xiao Man should have reached Chai Village and warned his parents. That meant his time here was nearly up. He had to escape—soon.
Before making any move, he decided to scout the mountain gate.
At dinner, while the disciples gathered in the mess hall, Gao Yang quietly slipped out of Twelve's room and made his way through the night.
The wind whispered through the pines, carrying the faint murmurs of the infant fruits. Their tiny, childlike faces rustled against the leaves, chattering and giggling in the dark.
Up ahead loomed the gate of Azure Mountain. It was shut tight, its black wood gleaming faintly. Beside it stood the ancient locust tree, its blackened branches twisted downward like skeletal hands gripping the gate itself.
A soft thump broke the silence. One of the infant fruits fell from a nearby tree, bouncing across the ground until it rolled to a stop at Gao Yang's feet.
He hesitated, then stepped forward. More fruits began to drop, one by one, murmuring in strange, garbled tones.
His pace quickened.
Crack!
He stepped on one.
The forest froze.
Then the wailing began.
High-pitched, infantlike cries filled the air. "Waaah—Waaah—" The sound clawed at his nerves, raw and inhuman.
Heart pounding, Gao Yang broke into a run.
He reached the mountain gate and pressed both palms against the cold wood. The chill bit through his skin. Two human faces emerged on the twin door handles—one male, one female.
Gao Yang recoiled. Then, gritting his teeth, he pushed.
Groooan—
The doors creaked open a sliver.
Through the crack, he saw a vulture perched on the locust tree outside, pecking at its bare feathers.
The faces on the door suddenly blinked to life.
"Where is the Immortal Child going?" the man's face asked cheerfully.
"Are you stupid?" the woman's face snapped. "He's trying to run away!"
"I can see that!" the man retorted angrily.
"Oh, you can, can you? Talk to me like that again, and I'll dig up your grave!"
"I'll dig up yours!"
Their bickering echoed absurdly through the still air.
Gao Yang forced a polite smile and clasped his hands. "Esteemed elders, I only wish to step outside for a breath of air. It's been a month since I came to the sect, and I've yet to see the outside world. Might you allow it?"
Both faces froze.
"You're not trying to run?" the woman said, sounding almost disappointed.
"How boring," the man muttered.
Gao Yang pushed again, but the doors refused to budge.
"Save your strength, child," the woman said kindly. "You won't get through. Go back and cultivate. We'll pretend we saw nothing tonight."
Black veins flared under Gao Yang's skin. His fingers curled into claws as he slammed them into the door, straight toward the woman's face. "And if I insist on leaving?"
She shrieked and vanished into the wood.
Thud!
A hole appeared where her face had been.
Her voice screeched from above, furious now. "You insolent brat! Think you can defy me?!"
The man laughed. "She's not made of clay, dear. She's wood—dead wood!"
"Shut up, you corpse-faced fool!" A splinter shot from the door, stabbing into the spot where the man's face had been.
He vanished too, leaving behind a swirl of gray mist.
Then Gao Yang saw it—a shadow splitting from the wood, coalescing into a twisted specter.
"So this is your true form?" Gao Yang growled, grabbing the mass of dark mist in one hand. "Enough tricks."
The ghost wailed, voice shrill with terror. "Immortal Child! Don't! Spare me!"
He was about to crush it when a sudden chill crept down his spine. Instinct screamed.
He spun aside just as a warped plank of wood appeared behind him, floating in midair.
Both the ghost and the woman's voice cried out together, trembling with fear. "Steward!"
Gao Yang's breath caught. "The steward?"
He had never seen the steward—only heard Xiao Man mention him.
So the steward… was a coffin board?
A sharp sting pricked across his skin, as though invisible insects were biting him. The air thickened with malevolent yin qi.
Realization struck. The gate, the trees, the steward—they were all spirits. The so-called "guardians" of Azure Mountain were themselves corrupted things.
He laughed bitterly. "A sect famed for exorcising demons, guarded by the greatest demon of all. How poetic."
The coffin board drifted closer, its voice low and oily. "The Immortal Child need not be angry. I serve only the Mistress's will. You wish to leave—do you have her permission?"
Gao Yang's eyes narrowed. "Do I need permission just to take a walk?"
The steward chuckled. "The Mistress fears for your safety. The mountains swarm with restless spirits. It's nearly night—when they roam most freely. Tell me where you wish to go. Tomorrow, I shall accompany you myself."
"And if I insist on going tonight?" Gao Yang asked.
A cold wind swept through the courtyard. The gates slammed shut with a hollow boom.
A thick layer of spectral mist wrapped around the wood, sealing it tight.
So that was it—no way through the front.
Gao Yang sighed and looked up at the sky. "Another way, then."
He gathered his strength and leapt, aiming to vault over the gate.
The steward didn't move. He simply smiled.
Branches cracked overhead. The locust tree came alive—its massive limbs whipping down like serpents.
Gao Yang barely had time to raise his arm before one branch struck him squarely, hurling him back into the dirt.
The infant fruit trees shuddered and whispered, their tiny faces grinning.
The steward's voice was calm now. "Please, Immortal Child. Return to your quarters."
Gao Yang clenched his fists, then forced a wry smile. "Alright, Steward. Tomorrow then—you'll take me out. I can't stand another day trapped inside."
The coffin board inclined slightly. "As you wish, Immortal Child."
Back in his room, Gao Yang shut the door tightly and rolled up his sleeve. His arm was already dark purple, swollen from the locust's strike. He hissed between his teeth. "Too strong… I can't fight that thing yet."
Even the steward's aura had frozen his blood when it drew near. Only the Seven Fiends had kept him from collapsing.
No wonder the Mistress left without worry, he thought grimly. There's no escaping through the gate.
He needed another path—and for that, the Fifth Sister might have answers. Perhaps her work as an alchemist gave her access to other exits or weaker seals.
Sitting cross-legged, he began circulating the Bai Family's cultivation method. The qi in his Dantian flowed smoothly, the tiny pool within him widening by a fraction.
At this pace, he estimated it would take three years to reach the Fasting Stage. For most, that would be considered lightning-fast.
For Gao Yang, it was far too slow.
He needed power—quickly. Whatever the price.
There's no cost higher than death, he reminded himself.
As he meditated, the temperature in the room dropped sharply. A shadow crept across the floor, stretching toward him. The air thickened with frost.
Whoosh!
The door flew open, slamming against the wall with a deafening bang.
Gao Yang's eyes snapped open, his senses on edge. "Who's there?"