“Cough…cough…” Zhang Yuan cleared his throat and said, “In high-difficulty dungeons, sometimes stepping into the danger is the only way—there are crises that simply can’t be avoided or resolved with clever tactics. I could simply enter the hall directly, but I still feel uneasy.” He glanced at the several pavilions and quiet chambers, adding, “The residential areas might hold other clues. I plan to send the shadow corpses in to investigate.” While the drones are excellent scouts, they lack the finesse for delicate operations, and Fu Qingyang’s puppet soldiers can’t share their visual perspective—thus, the shadow corpses summoned by Ye You Shen are the best. Essentially, they serve as duplicates. Zhang Yuan produced the Little Red Hat, shook it, and released two shadow corpses—one a transcendent, enchanting spirit creature clad in tattered armor, and the other the elegant Lady Yin Yao, dressed in tailored jeans and a light-colored T-shirt. Lady Yin Yao looked around, then raised the small microphone, murmuring, “Another dungeon entry….” As a traditional cultivator, she found it hard to keep up with the frequency of dungeon missions from the spiritual realm. Coming face-to-face with life-or-death crises every few days— Ancient cultivators valued simplicity and restraint, seeking seclusion in the mountains, distancing themselves from the bustling world. Even if their talents were limited and they never rose to become regional heroes, they could still enjoy a tranquil life. The travelers of the spiritual realm, however, were always either in battle or preparing for one—mere dogs always chasing after the game. "Since you're my junior descendant, you'd better follow closely beside my direct disciple. You'll surely reap many benefits in the future," Zhang Yuanqing patted the cold, fragrant shoulder of Yin Yao, guiding the shadow corpse onto the plain. He briskly walked forward, heading straight for the pavilion on his right. This pavilion bore clear Tang Dynasty characteristics—large bracket eaves, thick columns, and a single, unified color palette. It was neat yet not stiff, elegant without being delicate, exuding a dignified and majestic presence that the Song Dynasty architecture often lacked. The pavilion's door wasn't a latticed one, but rather a sliding door, reminiscent of Japanese design. Zhang Yuanqing ascended the steps, attempting to pull the sliding door open, only to find that after being sealed for countless years, it had long since jammed. As the scenes within the hall came into view, the only lively eye on the shade's face slightly narrowed. Throughout the pavilion, corpses lay scattered, all with severed heads. Some had been beheaded while fleeing, their bodies collapsed in a prone position; others, still bewildered at the moment their heads rolled away, fell lifeless and straight. Some lay at the entrance, others inside the room, and some on the steps leading up to the second floor. The floor and mats were decayed and moldy, and a strong odor of rot filled the air. The garments on the bodies had long since oxidized and faded, appearing merely as tattered cloths wrapped around them—yet the flesh and the blood had only grown dry and wrinkled, just as the heads had. "These must be the disciples of the Shu Mountain Sect, all of them killed within the building," Zhang Yuanqing thought, deeply astonished. Shu Mountain was a renowned immortal academy from the Tang Dynasty, and the Unfavorable Commander had once borrowed the White Emperor's Crown from them. The fact that the Shu Mountain Sect had been willing to involve such a half-divine figure as the Unfavorable Commander in the request spoke volumes about The apex masters wouldn't dare say so, but there surely were high-ranking masters—indeed, more than one. Such a power in the Tang Dynasty was nothing short of a master of the martial arts world. As long as the imperial court didn't launch a full-scale military campaign, these forces were practically invincible. "If they had faced a powerful enemy, the bodies should have covered the entire hall, the pavilions, the great halls, and the rooms—destroyed by battle. Yet they seemed to have merely taken refuge in the pavilions, only to meet a tragic end. That is truly terrifying!" What kind of enemy could have instilled such fear in a then-preeminent power like Shu Mountain? With this thought, Zhang Yuanqing stepped out of the pavilion and began exploring through the overgrown grass beneath the eaves, searching for traces of the array. Yet, time had worn away all such evidence. Returning to the pavilion, Zhang Yuanqing conducted a simple inspection of the first floor. Aside from decaying furniture, furnishings, and corpses, he found nothing of significance. As he was about to ascend to the second floor, a surge of thick black smoke poured out from outside the pavilion It's powerful yin energy! Zhang Yuanqing kept moving in the dark, and after about a minute, he began to hear a faint, rhythmic footfall approaching—something unusual in its cadence. The next instant, his vision returned to his teammates. "Woooh~" Zhang Yuanqing groaned in pain, pressing his hands to his head, his temples bulging with veins. The Palace Master was startled, "What's wrong?" "The spiritual bodies that entered the Yin Shī have been sealed—unable to be retrieved," Zhang Yuanqing said, his face flushed with veins trembling and large beads of sweat rolling down. He had effectively had portions of his soul torn apart. Upon hearing this, the Palace Master, Fu Qingyang, Xia Hou Aotian, and the Mage with the Divine Eye all exchanged expressions of concern. Fu Qingyang furrowed his brows slightly, "I had already planned that after the black mist surged, if we selected only one target at a time, the Yuan Shi Yin Shī could exponentially increase our survival rate." Now, this strategy is significantly compromised—possibly even rendered ineffective. Every time a shadow body is lost, a portion of the soul is sealed away—Qi Yuan suffers only memory loss and weakened capabilities in mild cases; in severe cases, he loses his soul and goes mad. In the former, he becomes a mere hollow shell, while in the latter, he becomes a stranger to his own family and kin. Xia Hou Ao Tian immediately said, "Then let my drones take their place. Drones are inanimate—no matter how many are lost, it doesn't matter." The Mage-Eyed King said, "Then we need to test another set of data: among intelligent and non-intelligent intruders, will the black smoke prioritize one over the other?" At that moment, Zhang Yuanqing, using the techniques of the illusionist, had already smoothed out the soul wounds and said, "Let's try again. I haven't yet visited the second floor of the study wing—there may be clues there. This scenario is rather unusual..." He relayed what he had observed inside the study wing to his teammates. The corpses had separated, their deaths uniform in nature, and the disciples of Nan Yuan had gathered together, as if fleeing for safety—what kind of enemy could drive a celestial "I'll go," Lady Yin Yao volunteered, eager to shoulder the burden for the direct disciples of San Dao Mountain. "No, my spiritual body is stronger than you might imagine. Moreover, I can sense that the lost portions haven't vanished entirely—they've been sealed instead." Zhang Yuanqing pressed his temples, which felt swollen, and said, "Once the seals are lifted, those portions can be recovered." He then turned to Xiahou Aotian and said, "Have a drone follow me." Xiahou Aotian immediately produced a black metal box, opened it, connected the neural wires, and had the drone trail behind Yuan Shǐ Tianzun as they entered the Nan Yuan. Zhang Yuanqing led the drone swiftly, re-entering the attic to find his shadow body lying on the staircase, head separated from the torso. The drone hovered mid-air, its camera descending to focus on the corpse, while its speaker emitted Xiaohou Aotian’s voice: “The condition of death matches that of the corpse—so the footsteps were indeed the cause of the deaths of these Shu Mountain disciples.” Zhang Yuanqing nodded, reaching out to touch the shadow body and said, “My spiritual essence is still within the shadow body, yet I cannot retrieve it—it has been sealed by an unknown force.” “When the physical body is severed, the spirit is imprisoned within the remains? That’s not good at all.” Xiaohou Aotian’s tone was grave, and he promptly relayed the situation to his teammates outside. “Let’s go up.” Zhang Yuanqing paid no further attention to his shadow body, stepping up three stairs at a time, quickly ascending to the second floor. The drone’s eyes resumed level view, its propellers humming softly, following closely behind. Zhang Yuanqing took several steps up the stairs and reached the second floor. As he looked around, he saw a group of fifteen corpses with deteriorated clothing, all seated in a circle in the wide hall—seemingly meditating—clearly distinct from the crowd of bodies rushing about on the first floor. Their heads had rolled to the back, to the front, or lay between their legs. "Something like a multi-person array—seemingly designed to withstand the threat posed by footsteps," said Xiahou Aotian's analysis from the drone. "But they've all failed." As a scholar, he was particularly attuned to such array formations. Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "The introduction to the quest states that black smoke seeping out from the main hall has enveloped the southern garden. Within that smoke, the sounds of footsteps, laughter, and cries are sharper than any weapon wielded by the swordsmen. What is the essence of those footsteps? Or, what is their true nature?" As he spoke, he glanced around and noticed a low table placed to his left, with one headless corpse seated beside it. The head of the corpse rolled off the table, half its face tilted toward the staircase, a most unsettling sight. This body appeared to be the master teacher and commander of the deceased, equally fated to meet misfortune. To the left stood a bookshelf, to the right a collection of potted plants, and behind it, a sword hung on the wall. Zhang Yuanqing quickly examined each item and found they were all secret treatises from the Shu Mountain sword school—some on sword techniques, others on sword spirit, and still others on the deeper understanding of sword intent. When he picked up the final volume, *Fanyun Xijian Lu*, he noticed something tucked inside. Upon opening it, he found a sheet of letter paper, yellowed and brittle, with faded ink. "Three years have passed swiftly. Just half a month ago, he suddenly returned to the mountain, gathering us together, claiming to have uncovered the secret of spiritual energy depletion in an ancient relic. If this secret is solved, the heavens themselves may be restored, the celestial laws realigned, and spiritual energy renewed—enabling all to attain immortality and all to become immortals. Since then, the Abbot has retreated to the rear mountain for meditation. Seven days ago, the main peak was shrouded in a thick black smoke, severed from the outside world. At night, mournful wails echoed like those of the underworld. Despite our best efforts, the three senior monks were unable to reach him. I know you have a close relationship with Master Suwen, and a shared past. I hope you will step in and assist Eshu Mountain through this crisis." "Zhang Yuanqing was about to speak when Xiahou Aotian added, "Oh, Fu Qingyang mentioned that the Nan Yuan might have experienced the same situation as the main peak—enshrouded by black smoke and sealed off—so their rescue messages couldn't be sent out. The deaths of the disciples in the pavilion also confirm this." Since they couldn't escape, they had taken refuge there, set up array spells, hoping to endure the crisis. Zhang Yuanqing had thought exactly the same, but Fu Qingyang had already started answering ahead of him—what could he say now? He then remarked, "It seems the Unfavorable General is also quite the romantic, much like the Demon King." "How so?" Xiahou Aotian showed interest. "I've visited a Tang Dynasty quest where the main protagonist is precisely the Unfavorable General. According to the NPCs' gossip within the quest, the Unfavorable General has a romantic involvement with both the Empress and the Princess." Zhang Yuanqing said. "The Demon King also enjoys taking both mother and daughter." Xiahou Aotian replied, "I think it's different. The Demon King has been consumed by the corrupted Holy Grail, driven to "Quite bold of you—daring to criticize a half-god like this! Zhang Yuanqing steered the conversation back on track, saying, "The information we've gathered so far can only serve as supplementary background. We still don't know who our enemies are. This pavilion has little value now. To gain more intelligence, we must head to the main hall." As he spoke, ten minutes passed, and black smoke surged once more. Zhang Yuanqing again heard the heavy, rhythmic footsteps, and then lost consciousness. Fu Qingyang said solemnly, "We'll stop here and head to the Southern Courtyard." If they proceed further, Yuan Shi's condition will deteriorate steadily, making it impossible for him to cope with the major crises within the quest. Moreover, many of Yuan Shi's items come at a cost drawn from his spiritual domain. As his spiritual body grows weaker and more fragmented, the counter-effects of these costs may ultimately prove fatal. The others naturally agreed without hesitation. The five of them immediately entered the Southern Courtyard, heading directly toward the Golden Apex Hall, opposite the residential area. The beams hang with bright yellow drapes, and the walls and pillars display biographies of female sculptors. The Nan Yuan is a secondary pavilion belonging to the Shu Mountain sect, not the main peak; thus, the deities enshrined in the halls are not immortals or celestial beings, but rather distinguished predecessors who made outstanding contributions in the history of the Shu Mountain sect. The figure enshrined here is named Yao Guang, the ninth abbot of Shu Mountain. During the reign of the second emperor of Sui, who was both incompetent and tyrannical, he relentlessly extracted wealth from the people, causing widespread suffering across the land. For years, the people endured the Sui dynasty's oppression, and rebellions erupted from eighteen different directions, leading to the collapse of order and chaos throughout the martial world. Once, a rebel army coveted the Shu Mountain's secret texts and sacred artifacts, aiming to strengthen their foundation for competing for dominance in the central plains. Abbot Yao Guang led her disciples in resistance, engaging in fierce battles for over a month before successfully repelling the rebels. In the process, she sustained damage to her fundamental essence and passed away the following year. In honor of her, Shu Mountain constructed the Yao This hall seems merely like a background structure.