The Earth Dragon Turns Over

Chen Huangpi was reminded by the brass oil lamp, so he took out the yellowed booklet from his chest.

Earlier, this thing had already shown signs of abnormality.

But at the time, Chen Huangpi was focused on cultivation and ignored it.

Now, as soon as he opened it, he immediately noticed something different about the booklet.

The page that had once contained the black-and-white written agreement, with signatures and seals from Lin the Elder, Zhang Wu, and the others, had disappeared. In its place were several indistinct human-shaped figures.

Their names were written beside them.

Huang Er boasted gleefully, “Those foolish cultivators didn’t know what they were dealing with. They signed and sealed it with you, but didn’t fulfill their promises on time. Now look, even their souls are trapped inside, doomed never to reincarnate.”

Chen Huangpi curled his lip. “Last time I signed my master’s name, but isn’t Master still alive and well?”

“The Abbot is different—this thing can’t best him.”

“The Abbot only wants to devour you. If this booklet tried to make him its first victim, that’s like shining a lantern in an outhouse, just courting death. See, even the soul-reaper ghost inside was gnawed down to a skeleton.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Of course I know. I was secretly watching from the side at the time.”

“So it’s useless now?”

Chen Huangpi couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.

The brass oil lamp immediately said, “The soul-reaper ghost isn’t dead. As long as you feed it enough souls, it can regain its original power.”

“That’s not good!” Chen Huangpi said seriously. “As the future Abbot of Pure Immortal Temple, how could I go around killing and imprisoning souls to feed something as evil-sounding as a soul-reaper ghost? Besides…”

At this, he grew a bit bashful.

“I’ve never killed anyone. If I left a witness, wouldn’t it be embarrassing if word got out?”

“First time is the hardest, after that you’ll get used to it,” the brass oil lamp said, then pointed at the booklet. “By the way, this thing has another wonderful use. The souls of those people are trapped inside, and all their treasures and cultivation memories will become debts. However much they owe you, you can take that much.”

“Just focus your mind within, and you’ll know what to do.”

Upon hearing this, Chen Huangpi immediately complied.

At once the scene before his eyes changed.

The surroundings became dim and blurry, and he couldn’t make out his environment. It felt as if he’d been drawn into a special space, and vague information began to flow into his mind.

“Soul-Hooking Register.”

“This is the Netherworld Domain…”

Chen Huangpi suddenly understood. With a thought, the souls of Lin the Elder and the others appeared before him.

Their souls bore the marks of their deaths.

One had his heart and lungs gouged out, intestines missing.

Another’s head had been half-chewed off.

The most intact was Lin the Elder; apart from his terrified expression, he looked almost alive.

Chen Huangpi reached into the soul of one cultivator.

When he withdrew his hand, a cluster of light appeared in his palm, and the soul was immediately dragged deeper into the yellowish mist surrounding them.

A satisfied swallowing sound echoed.

Chen Huangpi knew the soul had been eaten by the soul-reaper ghost Huang Er mentioned.

He pressed the cluster of light against his forehead.

Instantly, the cultivator’s memories flooded into his mind.

From body refinement, to qi-cultivation, to the foundation and golden core stages…

But these memories were severely fragmented.

Perhaps the debt owed was too small, or the soul too incomplete.

Chen Huangpi then tried with the other cultivators’ souls.

Repeatedly pressing light clusters to his forehead, he managed to piece together the memories to a barely coherent level.

“So they were so wicked. I brought them kindly to the temple and they wanted to kill me—and badmouthed me too.”

“Truly wicked!”

“Luckily my second master stood up for me! But why are their cultivation methods so different from mine?”

“Can I even cultivate their techniques?”

Frowning, Chen Huangpi turned to Lin the Elder and Zhang Wu, reaching into each in turn. This time, he came away with two clusters of light—one was memory, the other was an object resembling a compass, not just memory alone.

He pressed the memory cluster to his forehead.

The yellowish mist immediately closed in, dragging both souls deeper into the domain. For a moment, Chen Huangpi thought he glimpsed a towering, ferocious figure—so tall it rivaled the Pure Immortal Temple’s main hall, yet so thin it was just a skeleton covered in bite marks, terrifying yet oddly comical.

“Master has quite the teeth. If it were me, I’d never bite so deep.”

Returning to reality, Chen Huangpi marveled at his master’s prowess.

With a thought, the compass-like object appeared in his hand.

“Geomantic Divine Compass! Looks valuable.”

From the memories of Lin the Elder and the others, he learned this was a rare treasure used to locate supposed sources of pollution. He stored it back in the Soul-Hooking Register.

“Huang Er, keep watch for me.”

With that said, Chen Huangpi sat cross-legged on the spot.

He began to cultivate the technique called “Mysterious Yellow Qi-Transmitting Classic” according to the memories.

This method only went from qi refinement up to the golden core stage.

Beyond that, only the imperial court or great families possessed the higher methods.

As for sects, in their memories, those were just synonymous with small mountain practitioners—nothing impressive.

“According to their memories, everyone has innate spiritual energy within. As long as your aptitude isn’t bad, you can sense it, then use it to refine your body, and later seek out a city rich in spiritual energy to enter the qi-cultivation stage.”

However—

Chen Huangpi tried for a long time and sensed nothing resembling spiritual energy.

This troubled him greatly.

Could his aptitude be so poor?

But with the Five Viscera Divine Refinement, he’d entered the path at once.

How strange.

Unwilling to give up, Chen Huangpi tried the other techniques.

He did have something akin to spiritual energy inside.

Though his “kidney temple” wasn’t fully formed, his two kidneys constantly generated a faint, nourishing energy.

But it didn’t seem to be spiritual energy.

He tried all the techniques, but found only two he could use.

One was called the “Dog-Taming Classic,” a method for raising and commanding dogs—rather odd, considering where would he find dogs in these endless mountains?

Chen Huangpi glanced at the brass oil lamp.

“What’s with that look, Chen Huangpi?”

“Nothing,” Chen Huangpi shook his head and gestured with his sword fingers.

The other technique seemed to be a remnant sword move, named “Tai Sui Demon Slayer.”

Yet these two techniques, according to the memories, were ancient arts long abandoned by modern cultivators, impossible to practice—or so they thought.

But he had entered them at once.

“That must mean your aptitude is awful,” the brass oil lamp gloated. “Chen Huangpi, eight years old, can’t learn a thing even when fed the methods directly.”

“I’m already nine!” Chen Huangpi retorted, embarrassed and angry.

“So what, still can’t learn.”

“We’re family, and you humiliate me like this?”

The brass oil lamp finally had a chance to regain some pride and wouldn’t let go, seizing on the weak spot and striking mercilessly!

“Useless lamp, take my sword!”

Enraged, Chen Huangpi formed his sword fingers, and the faint energy from his kidneys surged into his meridians, following a strange path.

A sword light shot from his fingertips.

It was as fast as lightning.

It brushed past the brass oil lamp.

“Hahaha, you missed!”

But in the next instant, a tremendous explosion sounded.

Boom!!!

Both Chen Huangpi and the brass oil lamp looked in the direction of the noise.

In the far distance, a mountain collapsed, dust billowing into the sky.

The earth quaked and the mountains shook.

Chen Huangpi stared in disbelief, then grew proud. “See, Huang Er, now you know how powerful my sword energy is! I didn’t want to hurt you, so I aimed away…”

“Aimed away, my foot! The Yellow Dragon has turned!”

Rubbing his eyes, Chen Huangpi finally realized the earth was shaking violently, cracks opening everywhere, yellowish mud bubbling up and swallowing trees.

“Run!!”

Grabbing the brass oil lamp, he fled.

Ever since he began cultivating, his physical strength had become vastly superior to before.

With each stride, the kidney energy coursed through his body, making him feel as though he was flying—not much slower than the golden core cultivators’ light escapes.

Five Viscera Divine Refinement truly deserved its reputation as a fine method!

At the thought of his master, Chen Huangpi felt a strange sadness. Unable to return tonight—would his master worry, or go hungry?

“How odd, I used to spend nights outside and never missed Master this much. Maybe it’s because I’m a year older now?”

He shook his head, guessing he’d simply reached a sentimental age.

…

Earth-dragons turning was not so frightening.

In Chen Huangpi’s memory, such things happened often in the vast mountains.

But just as people are different, so are such events. Now even the Yellow Springs were erupting from the ground, indicating this earth-dragon’s turn would be extraordinary.

With the brass oil lamp, Chen Huangpi raced for his life.

Suddenly, the ground beneath his feet split open. A wall of yellow mud shot skyward like a city wall and crashed toward him.

“Dodge! You mustn’t touch this stuff!”

When the earth-dragon turns, mud from beneath the Yellow Springs gushes out. Even a touch sticks like a leech, eventually turning into sinister mud monsters.

But Chen Huangpi wasn’t quick enough. As the yellow mud threatened to engulf him, hands made of mud reached out, clawing at him as if the souls of countless beings swallowed by the mire wanted to drag him under.

He cried, “Huang Er, save me!!”

A golden light enveloped him as the brass oil lamp flared up, pulling him backward with invisible force.

“Thank you, Huang Er!” Chen Huangpi cried out in delight.

“Save your breath, just run! There’s no going back—find somewhere safe for the night, I’ll protect you,” the brass oil lamp urged.

Chen Huangpi worried about his master in the temple.

If he didn’t return at night, what if Master went hungry?

“Forget the Abbot—your life is more important!”

Unable to argue, Chen Huangpi grabbed the brass oil lamp and fled in the opposite direction from Pure Immortal Temple.

At this moment, he didn’t know—

Deep in the mountains, a group of people whose homes had also been destroyed by the earth-dragon’s turn were fleeing in panic, carrying a fox-shaped idol.

Despair was etched on their faces.

As survivors cut off from the world, life in the mountains was already a struggle.

Now, a once-in-centuries earth-dragon’s turn had struck.

So many had died.

Even the idols that protected them—only one was saved, the other swallowed by mud in an instant.

Even if they survived the calamity, come nightfall, death awaited.

One idol couldn’t protect so many.

Suddenly, the leading figure—an old crone with a hunched back, blind in one eye, holding a ritual staff—seemed to sense something. She turned in Chen Huangpi’s direction, her face twisting in terror. “Evil! Such terrifying evil—coming our way!”

“Run, hurry, run!!”

But then, the crone’s expression froze in shock. “Wait—the Mountain God says we must greet it!”