Volume One: The Celestial Palace of Mist Chapter Twelve: The Object in the Box

Chapter Twelve: The Contents of the Box

The next morning, Zhou Hao rode his sword through the clouds, heading straight for the sword practice platform atop Yunmiao Immortal Mountain.

As the sun rose, casting a crimson glow across the heavens, three hundred disciples danced with their swords in the wind. At the mountain's summit, the pristine essence of heaven and earth was most concentrated, greatly benefiting the lower immortal disciples who practiced there. The mountain was perpetually shrouded in purple spiritual energy—a rare blessing. Daily sword training here allowed them to absorb this purple aura, replenishing their immortal power and accelerating their cultivation.

Resplendent halls stood majestically atop the grand mountain, dazzling and sacred beneath the sunlight.

Within the main hall, three hall masters sat at the highest point. Below them were over a dozen elders, precisely eighteen, all clad in Daoist robes with solemn expressions, lending the gathering a grave air.

"I shall speak," came a woman's voice from below. The speaker wore a blue Daoist robe, her demeanor calm and composed—a Daoist nun in her thirties or forties. "These are turbulent times. Ever since Yunmiao suffered that calamity a century ago, the Night Palace has been our primary target for investigation. Yet to this day, we've found nothing; it hides like a cunning assassin in the shadows, impossible to detect."

She paused, then continued, "But just a few days ago, I discovered a clue about the Night Palace in a box. Today, I hope my fellow Daoists will examine what lies within."

With these words, she produced an object from her sleeve, drawing everyone's attention.

It was a black lacquered wooden box, adorned with golden patterns. Each side of the box was a perfect octagon.

"Elder Li, may I ask where you found this black box?" asked a middle-aged man in a green robe opposite her—none other than Nangong Xun.

"I acquired it during a journey. Is there something you wish to say, Daoist Nangong?" Elder Li was clearly indifferent toward Nangong Xun.

"Not at all, Elder Li. I'm merely curious. The Night Palace is unpredictable, and I worry the box might contain traps!" Nangong Xun's voice was soft, but everyone present heard the undertone, sensing the discord.

"Are you implying I, Li Qionghua, would harm my fellow Daoists? Do you think opening the box would endanger us?" The Daoist nun—Su Qing's master—spoke with a hint of displeasure.

"Perish the thought, Elder Li. You've misunderstood me," Nangong Xun replied with a smile, obviously provoking her, as the two had little rapport.

"Let us not quarrel. Today we're here to discuss the Night Palace. Since Elder Li Qionghua has found a clue, let's examine it first," said Cao Mengda, portly and jovial like a laughing Buddha, stepping in to ease the tension. He knew the two were at odds and could only try to mediate.

"Elder Li, please open the box so we may see its contents," said Yunmiao, dressed in golden and silver robes, his hair crystalline, and his face thin and sharp-eyed. At this moment, he was highly attentive to the black box.

"Very well."

Li Qionghua ignored Nangong Xun, aware of his ill intentions. As elders, they had to set an example, avoiding public disputes; disagreements were limited to words, not actions. Their only recourse was to let their disciples compete. Yesterday, Su Qing had bested Nangong Ying, and today Nangong Ying was eager to regain face through Li Qionghua.

With a flick of her hand, a radiant sword appeared in her grasp, its blade encircled by a rainbow halo, beyond which shone piercing silver light. The sword was incomparably sharp, its tip exuding white sword energy. She gently touched each side of the black box with the sword, and instantly the golden patterns seemed to come alive, shining with golden light. With a click, the black box opened.

Like an orange peeled into eight segments, the box revealed its contents: a single page of leather parchment.

"Is that the skin of an immortal?" exclaimed an elder seated next to Li Qionghua.

With a hum, Li Qionghua used a remote-moving spell, and the parchment floated into the air for all to see.

On the parchment was written one sentence: "Yunmiao Hall's foremost disciple: Yu Yang's primordial spirit!"

"Yu Yang's primordial spirit—what does this mean? Is my son's spirit inside the box?" cried an elderly man in a grey robe, his eyes flashing with light.

This was Yu Longtian, father of Yu Yang and Yu Nan. Yu Yang was his pride; though Yu Longtian's own talent was mediocre—having achieved Golden Immortal status after nearly three thousand years in a grueling closed-door cultivation—he was now over five thousand years old, at mid-tier Golden Immortal. Among Yunmiao's elders, he was not particularly powerful. Yet fortune had favored him with two outstanding children. Although Yu Yang had died, Yu Nan was also exceptional, one of Yunmiao's three prodigies.

Yu Longtian gazed at the black box, eyes bloodshot. A century ago, the loss of his beloved son had devastated him. Yet, unlike others, he hadn't screamed for vengeance against Yun Fang, perhaps because he understood the struggle of rising from obscurity, or perhaps he empathized with Yun Fang's feelings. He blamed Yun Fang for nothing; instead, he buried Yu Yang himself and then secluded himself for fifty years.

Although the blame didn't lie with Yun Fang, he was Yu Yang's master, so Yun Fang atoned by closing himself off for a hundred years.

"Elder Li, where did you find this box?" Yu Longtian's mouth quivered, his hands trembling.

He stood up to take the box; Li Qionghua, seeing his state and knowing he was recalling that tragic year, allowed him to take it.

"I was the first to find the box. The day Yu Yang was slain and the Night Palace members fled, I chased after them but found no trace. Returning, I discovered the box by the mountain gate. After consulting many ancient texts, I learned it was called the Exquisite Treasure Box, used to hold primordial spirits. Yet I couldn't find a way to open it, so eventually I handed it to Elder Li," Yun Fang explained.

"I see. But now there's only this parchment. Where is the primordial spirit?" asked Cheng Bing, seated next to Nangong Xun.

"Indeed, Elder Li. Since you know how to open the box, you must have opened it before—where is Yu Yang's primordial spirit?" Nangong Xun pressed.

With these questions, Li Qionghua became the focus of all eyes, even Yu Longtian, still grieving, looked to her for answers.

"Don't tell me the spirit disappeared as soon as the box was opened!" Nangong Xun added as Li Qionghua was about to speak.

"Yes, that's right. I opened the box, but it was empty. I believe the Night Palace took the spirit," Li Qionghua replied firmly.

"Is there any proof? Elder Li, your words are hard to believe! At that time, the Death Guards intervened, and the Night Palace members fled in chaos—how could they have had time to take Yu Yang's spirit and leave the box at the mountain gate?" Cheng Bing sneered.

"Isn't that so, Yun Fang?" Cheng Bing turned to Yun Fang.

"What do you mean by that? Are you questioning Elder Li and me? If Yu Yang's spirit was stolen, it means the Night Palace was after it. If the Exquisite Treasure Box was empty, must we suspect our own people? What kind of logic is that?" Yun Fang said angrily.

"Quiet. Let me share my thoughts," came the voice of Yunmiao, who had remained silent until now. "A century ago, during that disaster, I sensed a trace of the Night Palace's aura. As their member fled, I struck from a thousand miles away. He was so powerful that even I suffered a setback, so I think he simply wanted to return to the Night Palace and report, not out of fear of the Death Guards. Based on your discussion, it's highly likely the Night Palace was established to collect the primordial spirits of talented immortals—specifically the most gifted disciples of the Immortal Hall."

"The Exquisite Treasure Box is indeed meant to hold primordial spirits, but my strike probably knocked it off the Night Palace member. He hadn't had time to put Yu Yang's spirit in the box."

"Then, my son's spirit is still at the Night Palace's base?" Yu Longtian's eyes glistened with tears, his voice choked.

"Yes, Yu Yang's spirit can still be saved. As his master, I will spare no effort to find it," Yun Fang said, patting Yu Longtian's shoulder.

At the practice platform.

Zhou Hao focused intently on his swordplay. Yunmiao's sword art had no fixed moves, emphasizing spontaneity and flow—like drifting clouds. Only those who truly achieved unity with heaven and earth could unleash its full power.

This time, Zhou Hao found himself undisturbed by Yu Nan and the others. Even Cao Shuang was amazed, speculating that Yu Nan had changed or, perhaps, having lost so badly yesterday and been warned by Su Qing, dared not cause trouble.

"Fairy Su Qing's words carry such weight! Look, not a peep from Yu Nan this early morning—it feels odd not to hear her ruckus, haha!" Cao Shuang joked.

"You must be asking for trouble," Zhou Hao shot him a look. "These past days have nearly killed me—you all are advancing in cultivation, nearing Golden Immortal, but I'm still the lowest among lower immortals. If you're a true brother, give me advice—how can I grow stronger?" Zhou Hao asked while swinging his sword.

"Are you joking, brother? How many days have you been in the Immortal Domain? Your time training is so short it's negligible. Now you ask how to grow stronger—what do you think?" Cao Shuang looked at Zhou Hao as if he were an alien.

"As the saying goes: 'Seven days in a cave equals a thousand years in the world!' Cultivation on the Immortal Path is long and dull. Why do immortals live so long? To accumulate Dao. The higher your Dao attainment, the longer your life; conversely, the longer your life, the higher your Dao. Just keep training—I'm sure you'll reach Golden Immortal in less than two thousand years!" Cao Shuang said.

"Two thousand years? I might as well bash my head in. Forget it, you're no help—back to sword practice!" Zhou Hao was determined to grow stronger.

Three hours passed quickly. Zhou Hao and Cao Shuang went their separate ways, and Zhou Hao flew back to Yun Fang's mountain without incident.

Sword practice on the platform, cultivation in the lake—Zhou Hao repeated these daily. Though he improved greatly, he remained the weakest in Yunmiao Immortal Hall.

He was frustrated. Did years of cultivation truly matter so much? Why couldn't he rival the other disciples in a short time?

Several days passed without Yu Nan and her group troubling Zhou Hao. He credited Su Qing for this, feeling even more grateful to her.

Without their interference, Zhou Hao could focus on sword training. Occasionally, he glimpsed Su Qing in white robes, her ethereal beauty inspiring him. He noticed her rare smiles, realizing that even a goddess could laugh. Those smiles were fresh and elegant, beautiful yet unpretentious, displaying her refined grace like bamboo and jade.

Under the bright moon, Zhou Hao bathed in the lake, cultivating. The lotus of tranquility in the lake had dwindled. Yet, after days of 'taste testing,' Zhou Hao felt he could withstand the impact of yin-yang essence even without the lotus.

Following the instructions from the Azure Cloud Manual, Zhou Hao began absorbing the mountain's spiritual essence. Under the moonlight, the energy was misty and ethereal, streaming into his body. The immortal lake became even more radiant and serene.

"Day by day, I must absorb more immortal essence to transform into immortal power. This cultivation is too slow—I need to find a place of true fortune," Zhou Hao sighed, opening his eyes.

Just then, the bamboo house door behind him opened, and Yun Fang stepped out, smiling at Zhou Hao. "Disciple, tonight your master will grant you a stroke of fortune—do you want it?"

"Huh? Master, are you a mind reader? How did you know I wanted to enter a place of fortune? Yes, yes—tell me what it is!" Zhou Hao asked eagerly.

"In fact, this fortune is both far and near—it's right beneath your feet!" Yun Fang pointed to the lake's bottom.

"Let's go!"

Before Zhou Hao could react, Yun Fang grabbed him and dove to the lake's depths, reciting a water-repelling spell so the water couldn't touch them.

At the bottom, Zhou Hao saw a cave teeming with various fish, including vermilion ones. Yun Fang moved swiftly, taking him straight into the cave.