Volume Four: Winds Sweep the Remnants, The Four Continents Sink Chapter Nine: The Banquet

The Cloud Palace was hosting a grand banquet, yet from top to bottom, apart from Zhuo Hua, who alone showed a gleam of joy and indulged in uninhibited celebration, all others wore troubled expressions, their faces grave as they sat at the tables, enduring the feast with little appetite.

Jiao Mu Jiao could no longer restrain himself. He pushed aside the table before him, strode to the center of the hall, clasped his hands in salute, and declared, “Your Majesty, I have failed to fulfill your command, bringing shame upon the Cloud Palace. I beg your punishment.”

With those words, he knelt on one knee, his back straight, motionless.

Zhuo Hua set down his wine cup, slowly rose, and walked to Jiao Mu Jiao’s side. By now, Zhuo Hua was visibly tipsy. He patted Jiao Mu Jiao’s shoulder and said, “Old Jiao! How many years have we known each other?”

Just as Jiao Mu Jiao was about to reply, Zhuo Hua waved his hand to interrupt him.

“It doesn’t matter! Come, drink with me.” Zhuo Hua handed him a cup, gesturing for him to drink.

But Jiao Mu Jiao was bewildered, frozen in place. Zhuo Hua pressed the cup into his hand, clinking it with his own.

“My heart is like the wine in this cup, troubled by yearning and cares!” Zhuo Hua sang softly.

The others exchanged uncertain glances. Jing Mu Han rose and went to steady Zhuo Hua’s arm, anxious as he asked, “Zhuo Hua, what’s wrong?”

Zhuo Hua shook his arm free, replying, “I’m fine, perfectly fine. Don’t bother about me!” He staggered back to his throne, tilted his head, and promptly fell asleep in his chair.

The hall remained tense, the palace lords of the Cloud Palace wearing somber expressions. Lan Sheng threw down his wine cup and rose to leave.

Qin Ying grabbed him, shaking her head in silent warning not to go.

Lan Sheng, disgruntled but unwilling to make a scene, said, “Lan Sheng is but a guest of the Cloud Palace; as the host rests, the guest should take his leave.” With a flourish of his robe, he departed.

Lin Bai stood up slowly, his face void of emotion, yet his gaze burned fiercely as he stared at the slumbering Zhuo Hua, as if fire would burst from his eyes. He stood upright, saluted Zhuo Hua wordlessly, then turned to leave.

Qin Ying darted forward, barring Lin Bai’s path. “Lin Bai, what are you doing?”

Without looking at her, Lin Bai uttered only two words: “Move aside.”

Hearing him, Qin Ying was startled, a wave of dread rising in her heart. She instinctively shifted aside.

With her out of his way, Lin Bai strode out of the hall, transforming into a streak of sword energy as he departed.

Dou Mu Xie, still gentle and kind, approached Qin Ying, smiling warmly. “Palace Lord Qin, today the Lord was overcome with joy and drank a little too much. It’s nothing to worry about, so don’t be too concerned. This old man will take his leave now.” With that, he saluted the sleeping Zhuo Hua, then Qin Ying, and respectfully withdrew from the hall.

Kui Mu Lang, seeing all this, felt the mood as well, though his face showed more regret than anger. He shook his head, sighed, and left the banquet.

The hall emptied, Qin Ying softly called Zhuo Hua’s name twice. When he gave no response, two lines of tears rolled down her cheeks. She sobbed, her heart wrung with pain.

After a moment of weeping, she murmured plaintively, “I am before your eyes every day, yet you pay me no heed. She appears but once, and you are so overjoyed. So be it! So be it!”

Qin Ying turned and left the hall. With a flick of her sleeve, the doors slammed shut.

Outside, light streamed through the carved lattice windows, casting shifting shadows on Zhuo Hua’s face. Yet his gaze was cold and sharp, as though his eyes had just emerged from an ice cellar.

He picked up the wine cup he had knocked over, filled it anew from the jug, and stared dazedly at the amber liquid within. His right hand tapped the table in a steady rhythm.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he seemed to reach a decision. He drained the cup in one gulp, rose, and returned to his chambers.

Lan Sheng returned to his bamboo cottage, brooding in silence. Zhuo Yun, pouring water for him, tried to comfort him. “Brother Lan Sheng, don’t be angry at my brother Zhuo Hua. He’s only so happy because the Fairy is coming back. After all, they’ve been separated so long...”

With a bang, Lan Sheng slammed his fist on the table, startling Zhuo Yun and causing the kettle to spill water everywhere. She ignored her frightened heart, cried out, and hurried to wipe up the mess.

“What are you doing! You scared me!” Zhuo Yun scolded him.

Lan Sheng glared at her, fuming. “What’s with your brother? He’s drunk before even seeing her! He hasn’t visited the wounded celestial soldiers, nor comforted the families of the fallen. Is this how a master of the Cloud Palace should behave?”

Zhuo Yun slammed the teapot down, cracking it. The freshly cleaned table was once again awash with water.

She stared at Lan Sheng. “If you’re upset, don’t take it out on my brother. No matter how he acts now, you can’t forget how he helped you back then.”

Lan Sheng fell silent, sighing quietly. After a while, he said gloomily, “I truly worry for the Lord. With enemies pressing at the borders, the Cloud Palace and all seven immortal clans are filled with anxiety. He needs to take charge of the situation, not... not... ah!”

Zhuo Yun shrugged. “I understand my brother. After you left for Southern Flame Isle, I spent every day anxious, fearing bad news about you. I could neither eat nor sleep well. But the moment you came back, my heart settled, and my spirits lifted.”

While wiping the table, she continued, “Do you know how long those two have been separated? The Fairy’s fate was always uncertain, all news mere speculation. Now that it’s confirmed she’s well, how could my brother not be happy? But I trust him; he’s not one to lose his sense of propriety. He knows the difference between public and private matters, and what is most important.”

Lan Sheng looked up at Zhuo Yun’s calm face. He was moved, and reached out to grasp her hand holding the cloth. Startled, she tried to pull away, but Lan Sheng held firm.

She tried several times to escape, but failed, stamping her foot in frustration. “You’re only acting like this because my brother isn’t here!”

Lan Sheng’s lips curled into a faint smile, his tone softening. “Why do you trust him so much?”

Seizing a moment when Lan Sheng was distracted, Zhuo Yun snatched her hand back and flung the cloth in his face, her expression triumphant. “He is Zhuo Hua, the Lord! The strongest in the Void.”

Lan Sheng replied with some melancholy, “I suppose only you still believe your brother is the strongest. You weren’t there. Lan Sheng and the Star Lords and celestial soldiers generated a massive cyclone, like huge stones smashing down on the Dark Wrath Vanguard below. But who would’ve thought, that Fairy of Lanling...”

Zhuo Yun plugged her ears with her fingers, shut her eyes, and shouted, “I don’t want to hear it! My brother is the best!” With that, she flung the door open and left.

Lan Sheng shook his head, reflecting that he’d been a bit reckless today and regretted it. But what’s done is done; there’s no medicine to undo it.

He patted his head, trying to clear away the jumble of thoughts. He hadn’t practiced for several days; with the Lord absent, he couldn’t slack off.

Taking two deep breaths, Lan Sheng calmed himself and sank into his mindscape. Previously, each of the four palace lords and the Lord had imparted him a stream of energy, saying it was a shortcut.

Yet he still didn’t know how to use these streams of energy, so today he entered his mindscape again. It was his fifth visit. In the past, Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise stood motionless, but now they began to emit a faint glow.

In his mindscape, Lan Sheng appeared as a little emerald bird, fluttering its wings. Sometimes it perched on the dragon’s whiskers, sometimes atop the tortoise’s shell.

The forms of the four palace lords were clearer than in previous visits. “Could it be I’ve found the right method of cultivation?” Lan Sheng wondered.

He tried to activate the Qi-Fixing Pearl within him. This ninth-grade immortal pearl, crafted by the greatest artisan in the Void, produced gentle true energy, leaving Lan Sheng refreshed and clear-minded each time.

Yet after running several cycles within his body, the streams of energy didn’t condense into purer force; instead, they faded away.

“Strange, what’s happening?” Lan Sheng was perplexed.

He tried again, repeating the process, but the energy still dissipated.

“What’s going on! The incantation is correct; I’m channeling the energy as before. Why does the Qi keep diminishing?” Frustrated and increasingly agitated, he forced the energy more aggressively.

As he puzzled over the cause, suddenly, a glowing egg among the four divine beasts spoke: “You are now at a crossroads.”

The sudden voice startled his little emerald bird, which fluttered wildly, feathers flying everywhere.

After a moment, seeing nothing else happen, Lan Sheng tentatively asked, “Who’s speaking?”

The glowing egg replied, “It’s me! Zhuo Hua!”

Lan Sheng, instead of being afraid, found it amusing.

He laughed and asked, “Lord, why is your manifestation an egg?”

The glowing egg said, “This is not an egg; it is void.”

Lan Sheng struggled not to laugh. “Lord, you said I’m at a crossroads. What do you mean?”

The egg Zhuo Hua called ‘void’ glowed and explained, “I previously taught you the method for the Devouring Qi. You’re still practicing it, aren’t you?”

Lan Sheng answered, “Yes, I am. I’ve never stopped.”

The void egg said, “That’s good. You have reached a level with the Devouring Star River technique. Now you must make a choice: continue with Devouring Star River, or persist with your original Xuanhuang Heart Method. If you attempt to cultivate both, not only will the energies in your mindscape vanish, but all your previous cultivation will be wasted, destroyed by their mutual conflict.”

“I see,” Lan Sheng said, troubled.