Chapter Sixteen: Chen Yi

At this moment, Su Fan’s heart trembled violently; just now, that golden-armored warrior seemed as if he truly intended to strike him. Yet as Su Fan, with his spiritual sense, observed the people around, he realized they were all illusions, not real beings. Nevertheless, he had instinctively recoiled in fear.

A moment later, Su Fan opened his eyes. The sight before him left him dumbstruck—he was standing atop the staircase, his gaze fixed upon the bell. The bell, however, was utterly still, emitting neither movement nor sound. In that instant, Su Fan understood: the root of everything lay with this bell.

From the very first glance at the bell, he had been drawn into an illusion. Within that realm, he’d entered a palace alive with music and dance, yet all of it had been a mirage. Layer upon layer of illusion had nearly swallowed him whole.

Silently, Su Fan vowed, “That bell is truly extraordinary—I must have it.”

Steeling his mind, he stepped beneath the flying eaves, leaped up, and soared to the bell’s side. He could now reach out and take it, but suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared atop the eaves across from him, also reaching for the bell. The shadow seemed to notice Su Fan—he snatched the bell, and with a low shout, sent a jade-green dagger flying. Raising a hand, he pointed at Su Fan; the dagger shot straight towards him.

It was so swift that, even with all his current speed, Su Fan had no chance to evade. He could only form hand seals even faster, and in an instant, a small hill hovered before him. The green dagger hurtled into the hill; with a thunderous crash, the hill crumbled, but it had slowed the attack just enough.

Seizing the opportunity, Su Fan summoned his Mountain Soul Fan, channeling his spiritual power to control it. The fan met the green dagger head-on, holding its own without faltering.

The shadowy figure was startled and exclaimed, “A superior-grade mortal artifact!”

Without another word, he launched himself at Su Fan. Su Fan hurriedly enacted defensive spells, took out some pills to replenish his spiritual energy, and steeled himself for battle.

They were close to begin with; in a blink, the shadow was before him. The stranger’s attire was unfamiliar to Su Fan—shoulder-length green hair, eyes a deep, unreadable brown, his gaze locked on Su Fan.

Yet the shadow made no move to attack. Instead, he cupped his hands in a gesture of respect and spoke, “I am Chen Yi. May I know your name, friend?”

His voice was hoarse and indistinct, but Su Fan understood. “Su Fan,” he replied coldly, for he harbored no goodwill toward someone who had just tried to kill him.

He took the bell from the eaves and turned to leave. Sensing his earlier rudeness, Chen Yi spoke with some apology, “Brother Su, I was in the wrong just now. Please forgive me. My sect learned of an ancient tomb here and sent me to train myself. By chance, I found this palace. Inside, I encountered many strange creatures—not especially powerful, but so many that I barely escaped with my life. Once outside, I was ensnared in the bell’s illusion and only managed to recover my mind with the help of my sect’s arts.”

“I guessed the bell must be a treasure and tried to take it. Never did I expect to see you rise up at that moment. I thought you were another monster, and, in my haste, attacked you. It seems this was all a misunderstanding.”

Su Fan’s expression remained neutral. After all he’d just experienced, he found it hard to trust Chen Yi’s words. In a low voice, he said, “It’s nothing.”

Seeing that Su Fan wouldn’t pursue the matter, Chen Yi summoned the green dagger back to his hand. Su Fan likewise called the fan back with his mind.

Chen Yi spoke again: “Brother Su, this place is perilous. Why don’t we travel together? My sect has studied this tomb and I know it well. If we join forces, our chances of obtaining treasure are much greater.”

Su Fan did not immediately respond; he could not see through Chen Yi’s cultivation, and the man gave him a sense of danger. Still, compared to the unknown threats of this ancient tomb, traveling together might be wise.

When Su Fan remained silent, Chen Yi retrieved the bell and said, “Brother Su, this bell is called the Soul-Lost Bell—there are four in total. If used together, they can form the Soul-Lost Formation. Anyone trapped within will be drawn into illusions, unable to escape, and eventually perish as their spirit collapses. Now, only two bells remain, but if someone controls the formation, no Foundation Establishment cultivator could break free. Since we each have one now, and since we had some conflict, allow me to give you this bell as an apology. I also happened to obtain a diagram of the Soul-Lost Formation. When we leave this tomb, I will give it to you. For now, if I need your help, I hope you won’t refuse.”

With that, Chen Yi tossed the bell to Su Fan. Su Fan caught it and slipped it into his storage pouch. After a brief pause, he said, “Very well. Thank you, Brother Chen. Let us go together. But earlier you mentioned monsters in the palace—could you explain in detail?”

Chen Yi sighed. “My sect has long studied this place, so I have a map. That’s why my journey has been smooth. I meant to pass through the main hall to reach the tomb’s burial chamber, where ancient pills are stored. I only wished to collect some and return, but upon entering the hall, I encountered many monsters—not powerful, but far too numerous. I suspect they are the laborers who built this tomb, sealed within for centuries. Over time, they became ghosts, driven by resentment and obsession. The tomb’s heavy yin energy only made it worse, turning them into monsters. In life, they bore grievances against the world, and in death, attack any living being they see. Fortunately, they are not true cultivators, so their attacks are weak. With our combined strength, we may not be able to kill them all, but we have a nine-out-of-ten chance of breaking through.”

Su Fan gave nothing away. Chen Yi, seeing he had no objections, said, “Then let’s be on our way.” Su Fan nodded and followed him into the main hall.

Inside, the furnishings were exactly as Su Fan had seen in the illusion—except now the hall was empty, silent, and still. There were no musicians, no dancers, no King of the Underworld, no warriors. Only the ornate decorations remained. Su Fan could not help but marvel at the tomb’s extravagance; the King of the Underworld must have achieved great deeds in his lifetime. Yet if he was so formidable, how had he vanished without a trace?

As these thoughts crossed Su Fan’s mind, strange, zombie-like monsters began to appear on the ground around the hall.

Their clothing was ancient, their eyes vacant, their bodies desiccated and colorless as if all moisture had been drained away. They wielded no spells or magic weapons—only brute force, biting and tearing.

In moments, Su Fan and Chen Yi were surrounded. Chen Yi shouted, “Brother Su, I’ll take the lead—stay close behind and fend off their attacks!”

Without answering, Su Fan changed his hand seals, summoned a small hill, and swept his Mountain Soul Fan at the monsters. Wherever the fan struck, monsters fell and turned to ash, but more surged forward, endless as the tide.

Chen Yi, meanwhile, wielded his green dagger, cutting down monsters in a flash, his lethality startling to behold.

With a word, Su Fan commanded the hill to crash into the monsters. There was a thunderous boom, the hill shattered, but a bloody path was cleared.

Chen Yi, momentarily surprised, dashed for the opening; Su Fan followed close behind. In short order, they broke free of the encirclement.

Su Fan immediately took out a pill to restore some spiritual energy, for he had expended much. Chen Yi said, “Brother Su, sit and recover—I will stand guard.” Su Fan shook his head. “Thank you, Brother Chen, but we must keep moving; there’s no need.”

After the incident with the Tiger Roc, Su Fan had grown even more cautious—he knew that in the world of cultivation, even a moment’s laxity could spell disaster. He did not trust Chen Yi, and besides, he doubted his ability to defeat him if it came to a fight.

Chen Yi said no more. He pulled out the map from his storage pouch, surveyed the area, and studied their surroundings.

After a while, he smiled. “Brother Su, we are now in the tomb’s garden. According to the map, this garden once grew countless spirit herbs, each worth a fortune, though it seems they’ve all been harvested. But because this place is underground, the spiritual energy is not abundant. Beneath the garden, however, are countless spirit stones that nourished the plants. Even without pills, with spirit stones, one can easily trade for treasures.”

Su Fan’s heart stirred. He was running low on pills, his techniques were lacking, and he had no spirit stones—the currency of the cultivation world. Still, he kept his composure and asked, “This place has lain here for so long—could the spirit stones have been exhausted? And if this is a garden, surely protective formations remain. How will we obtain them?”

Chen Yi smiled. “Rest assured, there are many spirit stones here; even after millennia, they cannot all be depleted. As for the formations, I have some skill with them. These are low-level—easy to break. You can recover your strength here, and I’ll handle the rest. When I bring out the spirit stones, we’ll split them evenly.”

Su Fan cupped his hands in salute and smiled. “Then I leave it to you, Brother Chen.”