Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Pinnacle of Sculpture Sparks Debate

A sudden hiss was heard as the candle was lit, illuminating what had been a pitch-black secret passage. As everyone focused their gaze, it was clear this was no ordinary corridor—it was a realm infused with the spirit of heaven and earth, bathed in the essence of sun and moon, a paradise beyond imagination. Crystalline pillars hung suspended in midair, resembling droplets of rain falling from the distant sky, their surfaces shimmering with dazzling colors under the candlelight. The stones standing along the walls, though untouched by any craftsman’s hand, emanated a unique, natural aura. Some resembled graceful maidens dancing in ecstasy, striving to display the most perfect performance for their beloved. Others took the form of fierce tigers, jaws agape, ready to tear apart any intruder with razor-sharp fangs. Each stone was distinct and breathtaking, far more captivating than any gold or jewels steeped in vulgarity.

“My heavens, this is too beautiful!” Meng Youyuan exclaimed, unable to contain her admiration. She felt utterly breathless and intoxicated by the scene before her. Was this truly not an illusion? It was more enchanting than any dream she had ever had.

“I too am deeply mesmerized,” Yu Shang sighed in awe. “I thought after seeing Brother Leng’s ‘Garden of Serenity’ and the Smoke Orchid Academy, there were few places in the world that could compare. But this outshines them all—its beauty almost feels unreal!” He could only describe the scene as something that belongs in the heavens.

“Haha, hearing you say that, I suddenly feel my own residence is not worth mentioning. Compared to this, it’s the difference between a firefly and the moon!” Even Leng Huaiyi, accustomed to wondrous sights, couldn’t help but praise the scenery.

“When I grow old, I wouldn’t mind retiring here. Though there is neither sunlight nor moonlight, the tranquil aura adds a poetic touch to this place,” Yan Xue Su remarked softly, her heart moved by the beauty before her.

“It seems I should prepare myself for a life in a cave, never seeing daylight,” Yu Xiaoran teased, looking at his beloved, who was utterly enamored.

“Hmph, this is nothing! If you had seen my homeland, you wouldn’t be so amazed,” Xiao Yin said with a hint of disdain. No matter how beautiful the scenery, it couldn’t surpass the longing for home.

“I’ve known you so long, yet I still don’t know where your homeland is! What kind of magical place is it?” Yu Shang asked, his curiosity piqued. Though he knew much about Xiao Yin, he realized how little he knew in return.

“Well, you’ll find out someday!” Xiao Yin replied mysteriously, clearly unwilling to reveal much about himself.

“Listen, isn’t there the sound of running water?” Lan Wu suddenly whispered. Everyone fell silent, listening intently—they could indeed hear water flowing.

“How strange, why is there such a rapid flow here? Is there a river that leads outside?” Lan Bingxian speculated in a hushed voice. Though no one believed a river could exist here, they followed the sound to investigate its source.

They walked for what felt like ages before finally finding the origin of the sound—a genuine river, flowing gently through the secret passage. The surface sparkled, rippling with blooms of light, calming the restless hearts of all who saw it. The water was so clear that every tiny pebble could be seen at the bottom, and occasionally, brilliantly colored koi swam past. In this sunless, hidden passage, it seemed impossible that such creatures could survive. But was this not a revelation from heaven? Even the weakest fish could thrive in such a harsh environment, relying on their tenacious vitality. If they, possessing profound cultivation and living in relative comfort, could not persevere and carve out a world of their own, what excuse did they have? They should not fear the hardships and dangers of the unknown future; instead, they ought to thank the heavens, for it was through such trials that they would eventually dominate their destinies.

Suddenly, a small wooden boat drifted into view. The boat was remarkable—no matter how swift the river flowed, it remained perfectly steady, unmoved by the current. Yet as the group approached the riverbank, the boat seemed to steer itself, gliding gently towards them and stopping at their feet. They exchanged smiles, boarding the vessel one by one. Once all were seated, the boat set off as if guided by unseen hands, carrying them forward with the stream. Their hearts, like the boat, drifted uncertainly, unsure where their journey would ultimately lead.

Yu Shang, like the others, sat leisurely on the boat, admiring the intoxicating scenery and savoring the peace of the moment. But as he happened to look up, he was stunned by what he saw—a gigantic serpent spirit carved into the ceiling of the passage. Its markings were strange, impossible to define, but unforgettable in their uniqueness. Faintly, it seemed to emit a red glow—not obvious, yet impossible to ignore. Its eyes, crimson as blood, were dazzling, drawing one in irresistibly. The serpent spirit’s sculpture was so lifelike that one might mistake it for a real serpent coiled above.

“Xiao Yin, look over there!” Yu Shang, recovering from his shock, quickly grabbed the sleepy Xiao Yin beside him, shouting aloud and prompting the others to look in the direction he indicated.

“That’s…” Lan Wu was the first to react, inhaling sharply and hesitating to speak. Though she’d spent much time with Xiao Yin and had grown less fearful of snakes, the sudden sight of such a vivid form startled her. Her face was pale; her gaze, unsettled.

“Isn’t it just a little serpent carved up there? Why are you so frightened? Could it be that our fearless Lady Lan is scared of such a cute little creature?” Yin Boxuan laughed heartily, clearly unaware of Xiao Yin’s true form. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so dismissive.

“Lazybones, stop sleeping! Look what’s above us!” Lan Wu ignored Yin Boxuan’s teasing, shaking Xiao Yin who had drifted into slumber, worried they might miss the astonishing sculpture as the boat continued to float onward. At the same time, she wondered to herself: was the serpent depicted truly Xiao Yin? The markings and red glow matched him, but why was it here?

“What’s so important you’d disturb my dreams?” Xiao Yin, roused by their noise, opened his eyes and glanced upward. As he did, the boat drifted farther, soon leaving the sculpture out of sight. After that fleeting glimpse, Xiao Yin joked, “Who’s such a fan of mine that they carved my image here? If I find out who did it, I’ll reward them handsomely!” No matter the place or time, Xiao Yin never missed a chance to brag—his flamboyant nature could be exasperating.

“What? You say that serpent spirit is you? Impossible! You’ve only existed in this world for a few thousand years. But this place is clearly from ancient times. If you said the carving was of your ancestor, I might believe you,” Xun Mi Shuang bluntly dismissed Xiao Yin’s boast. Her reasoning made sense—the timeline didn’t quite fit.

“I’m confused. The sculpture was clearly a little snake, so how could Brother Yin claim it’s his portrait?” Yin Boxuan asked, bewildered. The difference was immense—one was a refined youth, the other a fierce serpent spirit. There was no way to connect the two.

“You don’t know what kind of divine creature I truly am? I thought you all knew! Well, it’s not too late to tell you now. I am the blood-red serpent spirit that once shook the world!” Xiao Yin declared with pride, almost tilting his head to the heavens. Indeed, he had once been a formidable presence, though now he was somewhat downcast.

“Oh, so you’re the blood-red serpent spirit!” Yin Boxuan’s eyes sparkled with revelation, though the others detected a mischievous glint.

“Now you know who I am! If you want to curry favor with me, there’s still time!” Xiao Yin laughed, satisfied with Boxuan’s reaction, oblivious to his true intentions.

“I’ve heard of the blood-red serpent spirit—it’s the kind you soak in wine and serve as a dish, right?” Yin Boxuan feigned sincerity, provoking peals of laughter from the group, tears streaming down their faces. He truly never failed to shock with his words; no one could escape his witty tongue.

“You brat, looking for trouble? Daring to mock such a noble spirit! Wait till I deal with you later!” Xiao Yin growled, wishing he could thrash Boxuan right then. He kept a mental note to settle the score, warning him not to beg for mercy when the time came.

“All right, you two, enough of that. But really, with so many serpents in the world, how can Brother Yin be so sure the carving depicts him? Perhaps it was just another snake with similar markings,” Leng Huaiyi mused thoughtfully. He couldn’t believe anyone from ancient times had met Xiao Yin; perhaps they could foresee the future, but why carve his image here, so certain of their arrival after so many years of change?

“That’s true, countless snakes look alike. Maybe you were too hasty and misidentified it,” Lan Bingxian added with a smile. This treasury was truly worth the visit—so many fresh wonders and exciting challenges awaited. He wondered what else lay ahead, almost impatient to find out.

“This isn’t a joke—I would never mistake myself! Besides, among my kind, I’m the only one with a body that emits a red glow. When I was born, the elders said my markings were the sign of a born strong one, an auspicious omen. No other serpent could be like me!” Xiao Yin spoke with genuine pride, from the depths of his heart. For him, it was a badge of honor.