Chapter 48: Dragon Soul
Humm——
Behind Qin Mu, a halo of light revolved around the Buddha shadow’s head, radiating brilliant rays in all directions, sweeping even the eerie mist clean away. A series of thudding sounds rang out incessantly as Qin Mu looked around, seeing dried corpses falling from the air one after another—so many that there was hardly any space to set foot!
Besides the dried corpses, there were also skeletons whose muscles had vanished, leaving only bones. The skeletons were draped in loose, large garments that looked like official robes.
The mist around him dissipated, and clarity returned. Yet the singing continued, though it had moved a bit farther away, still mournful and desolate, carrying endless sorrow.
Qin Mu dispersed his primal energy, and the Buddha shadow behind him gradually faded.
“How could so many corpses be hidden in this hall? These bodies don’t seem like ordinary people…”
Qin Mu observed, frowning slightly. There were too many corpses here, and they hadn’t rotted—that was abnormal. After all, the corpse of the Yongjiang Dragon King outside had already decayed, leaving only bones. How could the corpses in this hall have been preserved until now?
“One possibility is that these people entered after the Great Ruins catastrophe. Like me and Fox Ling’er, they also discovered the path to the Yongjiang Dragon Palace and then entered this hall.”
Qin Mu’s eyelids twitched as he looked ahead. Deep within the hall, layers of mist still lingered.
“Something in the mist killed them and turned them into this state!”
His scalp tingled as he gripped his staff tightly. The Xiqiluo Staff was indeed a treasure worth a city—just now, when he had infused his primal energy into it, it had erupted with astonishing power.
He had brought the staff out this time on Granny Si’s orders. She was very concerned about his safety and, besides the staff, had also transformed into various forms to protect him in secret.
“Granny must be worried sick these past few days…”
Qin Mu felt a pang of guilt but quickly pulled himself together, scanning the area with his eyes. “The source of the mist should be in this hall, and the danger is here too! What exactly killed these martial artists who came to explore?”
Just then, the mist from deep within the hall surged toward him, rising to his ankles and then gradually climbing higher. The dried corpses on the ground, enveloped by the mist, began to twist their bodies slowly, rising in a grotesque manner.
The mist rose higher and higher, soon passing over Qin Mu’s head. In the mist, the dried corpses also began to float, and as the fog thickened, they disappeared from view.
“What kind of ghostly thing is playing tricks and stirring up trouble? Xiqiluo!”
Qin Mu walked forward, staff in hand. After advancing about thirty meters, the singing drew closer again. He raised the staff and struck it heavily against the ground. Buddha light blazed, and Buddhist chants echoed. Behind him, the figure of a great Buddha reappeared, its radiance shining everywhere, driving the mist away. One by one, the dried corpses thudded to the ground again.
“Little bald donkey…”
Suddenly, a voice sounded in the hall, sending chills down the spine. But it only spoke one sentence, making Qin Mu and the little fox wonder if they were hallucinating.
Qin Mu finally saw the source of the mist. At the center of the Dragon Palace was an ice sculpture, and the mist was emanating from it.
He walked closer and saw a young dragon lying quietly inside the ice, with a broken sword lodged in its chest. The sword had pierced through its heart.
Between the dragon pillars of the hall, a massive azure dragon slowly swam through the air. It seemed to lack a physical body, able to pass right through the pillars.
The singing came from this azure dragon’s mouth. Its gaze was fixed on the frozen young dragon, never once shifting away.
Its eyes were filled with love and sorrow, and the song was equally mournful, as if grieving for a child that had left it forever.
This was a dragon soul.
The soul of a dragon.
It might be the Yongjiang Dragon King, or perhaps the Dragon King’s wife. It was a mother, and the frozen young dragon was likely her child.
She must have encountered the Great Ruins catastrophe. Disaster struck, and her child was fatally wounded by a sword. She loved her child too much, freezing it in ice, and she herself died in the catastrophe. Yet her soul still wandered this hall, guarding her beloved child, humming a dragon lullaby, hoping to awaken it.
“Little bald donkey, look over here!”
Suddenly, the voice came again. Qin Mu quickly turned to look and saw another block of ice besides the one containing the young dragon. This block was hidden behind the ice sealing the young dragon, and the two blocks were connected.
Inside this ice was an old man in purple robes with white eyebrows. His clothes looked like official robes—a blue upper garment and a dark lower garment, embroidered with nine patterns, adorned with gold and jade ornaments at the waist, a sword at his side, and a nine-tassel crown on his head. He was posed as if reaching for something.
One hand held a black banner, while the other reached into the other block of ice, grasping an egg-sized azure pearl inside.
Qin Mu had no idea what the azure pearl was, but within it coiled a tiny azure dragon.
“Could this pearl have frozen the old gentleman?”
Qin Mu blinked, stepped forward, and carefully examined the old man frozen in the ice. Then he noticed something strange: as he moved, the old man’s eyes inside the ice also moved!
“So that voice really was him!”
A shiver ran through Qin Mu. He turned to look at the dried corpses scattered across the hall and immediately thought of a possibility.
This old man in the ice was likely the first to discover the Yongjiang Dragon Palace. He had found the pearl in the ice and tried to take it, only to be frozen by it.
He must have survived inside the ice for a long time. The reason he hadn’t died was probably that he used the black banner he held to kill the martial artists who entered the Dragon Palace, absorbing their essence and blood. That was why the corpses had turned into dried husks!
The old man had been sealed in the ice until now, with limited power to use. But Qin Mu had entered the Dragon Palace with the Xiqiluo Staff, and its protection had saved him from dying under the banner’s eerie power, allowing him to escape disaster.
“So it’s the Xiqiluo of that old bald donkey from the Great Thunderclap Monastery. No wonder it can resist the mist’s strange power.”
The old man in the ice couldn’t move his lips, but his throat vibrated, producing sound. “You’re not a bald donkey from the Great Thunderclap Monastery, so why do you have that old donkey’s staff?”
Qin Mu answered honestly, “I won it by defeating his disciple.”
“Won it?”
The old man chuckled from his throat. “That old bald donkey would accept a loss? How old are you?”
“I’ll be twelve this autumn.”
The purple-robed old man praised, “At twelve, you defeated that old donkey’s disciple—truly remarkable.”
Qin Mu blinked and asked, “Senior, why are you frozen here?”
The old man laughed. “That’s a story. It starts from the beginning… Don’t leave! Come back!”
Qin Mu stopped and said awkwardly, “Senior, I’m in a hurry to get home. I can’t listen to stories.”
The old man coughed and said, “To make a long story short, I was traveling through the Great Ruins with my disciples when I stumbled upon this place. I saw many dried corpses and realized this dragon pearl was the culprit, killing everyone who entered, draining their blood and essence, turning them into husks. The pearl absorbed their vitality to prolong the life of the young dragon in the ice! As a cultivator, I couldn’t stand by, so I decided to take the pearl to prevent further harm. But I miscalculated—I didn’t expect it to be a dragon god’s pearl, and it froze me here! None of my disciples escaped; they were all drained by the pearl to sustain the little dragon!”
Fox Ling’er, hiding in Qin Mu’s arms, quietly raised her head and whispered, “Master Qin, do you believe his story?”
Qin Mu hesitated. His own guess was the exact opposite of the old man’s story. In the old man’s tale, the dragon mother saved her child by using the pearl to harm others, draining their vitality to keep the young dragon alive. The old man, upholding justice, was ambushed by the pearl.
Qin Mu’s guess was that the old man had been frozen by the dragon pillar and, to prolong his own life, used evil methods to harm others, absorbing the vitality of the martial artists who found this place.
Admittedly, both the guess and the old man’s story were possible. But which was true?
Qin Mu looked around. The mist was closing in again. He immediately shook the Xiqiluo Staff and struck it heavily against the ground!
“Thus have I heard!”
The Buddha shadow reappeared behind him, and the Sanskrit chant rang out: “All beings, from beginningless time, have been bound by birth and death because they do not know the everlasting true mind, pure and bright in nature, and instead cling to false thoughts. Because these thoughts are not true, they revolve in the cycle—cycle—cycle—cycle—”
“The Great Thunderclap Monastery’s Buddhist teachings are indeed impressive,” the old man in the ice praised.
“May I ask your name, senior?” Qin Mu inquired.
The old man in the ice replied, “I am Gu Linuan, the Grand Tutor of the Yan Kingdom’s Crown Prince, a first-rank official. If you can free me, once you reach the Yan Kingdom, I guarantee you endless wealth and honor!”