Chapter 31#

The Peerless Great Yao, the Ba Snake#

The forbidden grounds of the Yao Clan were located on Zhaoyao Mountain, the foremost peak of Queshan. This Zhaoyao Mountain stretched vast and boundless, home to countless spirit herbs of every variety, yet completely devoid of human presence—all because Zhaoyao Mountain was the domain of the Yao King. The Yao King was consumed by cultivation and had no love for noise or bustle, so across the entire Zhaoyao Mountain, he alone was its sole inhabitant.

After Lu Heng’s trio of three arrived at the base of Zhaoyao Mountain…

The Fox King looked at Lu Heng and said with some uncertainty, “This Zhaoyao Mountain bears the restrictions Your Majesty set long ago, and we have never dared trespass. However…”

Lu Heng understood the implication left unspoken in her words and had no choice but to brace himself and say, “I’ll give it a try.”

Lu Heng had originally been anxious, fearing that his half-baked cultivation would sully the Yao King’s reputation. What surprised him was that upon merely drawing near, his body seemed to possess a memory of its own—the Yao energy within him circulated naturally along an arcane trajectory in a single circuit. Then, with a gentle wave of Lu Heng’s hand through the air, the mist before him was swept aside, revealing the scenery of Zhaoyao Mountain.

The moment he stepped within Zhaoyao Mountain’s bounds, Lu Heng felt as though something were calling out to him. After sharing this sensation with Shikong and Xi, the three of them followed Lu Heng’s feeling deeper into the mountain.

What ultimately appeared before their eyes was the forbidden grounds of the Yao Clan. Gazing at that ancient and imposing stone gate, Lu Heng felt that whatever was calling to him lay beyond these doors.

“It’s right behind this gate,” Lu Heng said.

“The forbidden grounds have always been accessible only to the King. Master Shikong and I can go no further,” Xi said.

Lu Heng nodded and was just about to step forward when Shikong stopped him.

“Calm your mind and focus your spirit. Inwardly observe your qi sea, then sense whether there is anything unusual behind that gate.” The innate instincts of the Yao race had always served as a warning against danger, which was why Shikong intervened this way.

After quietly focusing as Shikong had instructed for a moment, Lu Heng confirmed that whatever lay behind the stone gate was of immense importance to him and bore no ill intent.

Lu Heng carried Min’s remains and entered the forbidden grounds alone. Following the Fox King’s instructions, he first located the fox clan’s burial ground and placed Min’s remains within it. The instant Min’s remains settled among the ancient bones of the fox clan’s great Yao ancestors, a surge of law power erupted skyward from the remains, swiftly merging with the law power pervading these forbidden grounds.

Shortly after, Lu Heng thought he heard someone gently say beside his ear, “Thank you.”

In that moment, the inheritance within Lu Heng’s mind expanded, granting him further knowledge concerning these forbidden grounds. The law power within the Yao Clan’s forbidden grounds nurtured the entire Yao homeland, providing the power of life to all Yao within it. When great Yaos who had failed to ascend fell, they returned to the forbidden grounds, entrusting their comprehended law power back to the land, continuing their guardianship over the Yao race.

A cycle of unending life and death.

After this moment of reflection, Lu Heng ventured deeper into the forbidden grounds. At the end of the path stood an ancient altar, and upon the altar’s stone seat lay coiled a small black snake. This little snake was identical to Lu Heng’s true form.

Startled, Lu Heng strode quickly up to the small snake and examined it closely, only to discover that the snake was crafted from black jade. This black jade snake had been carved with extraordinary lifelike detail—every single scale was rendered with meticulous precision. No wonder Lu Heng had mistaken it for a living creature at first glance.

This was the very thing that had been calling to him. Lu Heng reached out toward the snake. The moment he touched it, the snake’s eyes emitted a beam of light, and from within the snake, a phantom figure emerged.

The phantom was a man draped in a magnificent black robe, his hair jet black, his skin strikingly pale, his features finely drawn as though painted with meticulous brushwork. When he looked upon others, there was an air of casual nonchalance about him. This was unmistakably his own body—but older, more matured. Lu Heng realized this was likely a lingering image left behind by the Yao King.

“I do not know who has come, but it matters not. In the end, only those recognized as Yao can set foot in this place,” the phantom said.

This Yao King phantom then explained the reason the jade snake had been left here.

It turned out that when Zheng had been comprehending the law power within these forbidden grounds, he had suddenly foreseen a life-and-death tribulation approaching. Alongside this tribulation, a great catastrophe would also descend upon the Yao Clan. The Yao King feared that if he could not survive this life-and-death tribulation, there would be no one left to guard the Yao race during their great calamity. So he left behind a portion of his cultivation and comprehension here. When a time of crisis came, the succeeding Yao King could swiftly elevate their strength and shoulder the great responsibility of protecting the Yao race.

As the phantom finished speaking, the image in the air vanished, and the jade snake dissolved into a beam of light that entered Lu Heng’s body. This cultivation had originally belonged to this body, and Lu Heng absorbed it without encountering the slightest resistance.

Before the altar, the young man in the black robe had vanished. In his place was a black snake, its scales wreathed in a misty, luminous glow. Then the black snake’s body began to grow larger and larger, until it pressed against the ceiling of the cavern, still showing signs of further expansion.

Lu Heng finally recovered from that sensation of rapidly surging power. To avoid collapsing the forbidden grounds, he shifted back into human form. At this level of cultivation, there was very little difference between one’s true form and human form.

The light faded. What now appeared was no longer the youth in the black robe, but an adult man in a magnificent black robe. Lu Heng sat cross-legged and carefully felt the abundant power within him. The complete inheritance of the Ba Snake lineage, alongside Lu Heng’s fully restored Yao core, finally poured into his mind.

When a snake reached adulthood, there would be a period of heat… What did that mean? Only then did Lu Heng sense something amiss with himself. From some point onward, his body had been persistently feverish and his head muddled and dizzy. Lu Heng had initially attributed it to absorbing too much cultivation at once, but it was due to this so-called period of heat? Things seemed rather… unfavorable.

One day had already passed since Lu Heng entered the forbidden grounds. The Fox King looked rather anxious, fearing that the Yao King—whose strength was greatly diminished and whose memories were lost—might meet with some mishap within the forbidden grounds.

Shikong, meanwhile, remained composed and at ease, for he knew Lu Heng was in no danger. Ever since that peculiar crescent moon had entered his body during the Moon Worship Festival, he had felt a thread of spiritual connection with Lu Heng. Shikong had carefully examined this connection; broadly speaking, whenever the other party encountered danger or experienced extreme emotion, he would become aware of it.

Suddenly, a peculiar sensation passed faintly through his awareness, as though the other party were in a state of mental instability. Shikong’s expression shifted subtly. For a cultivator, mental instability was no small matter. He rose and walked toward the gate of the forbidden grounds.

Xi saw Shikong suddenly heading toward the forbidden grounds and hurriedly moved to block his path. “Master, these restrictions only permit the Yao King—”

Before she could finish, she saw that as Shikong drew near, a phantom image of a crescent moon faintly appeared around his body, and the restriction fully accepted him.

Shikong’s figure disappeared behind the gate, leaving only Xi standing there, her eyes wide with shock. That was the blessing of the Moon God. Could it be that Master Shikong was… the Moon God–chosen partner of the Yao King? Xi felt she needed to sit down and calm herself thoroughly.

Following the familiar aura, Shikong made his way deep into the grounds until he found Lu Heng at a secluded cold pool. Lu Heng was now in his adult form, and compared to his youthful appearance, his features were even more strikingly beautiful. Lu Heng had removed his outer robe and was soaking in the water. His plain inner garment, dampened by the water, clung faintly against the skin beneath. His face was flushed crimson, his hairpin undone, his disheveled long hair tumbling loosely down his back—hair dark as rich ink, skin luminous as white jade, lips vivid as flames.

Even someone like Shikong, who had never cared for appearances, was momentarily stunned at the sight. Hearing Lu Heng let out a soft, pained sound, Shikong snapped back to his senses. He stepped forward, took hold of Lu Heng’s wrist, and prepared to channel spiritual energy into him.

The moment Shikong’s fingers touched Lu Heng’s wrist, Lu Heng seized his hand in return, then dragged him straight down into the cold pool. The pool water was icy cold, yet the body pressed against Shikong burned like fire.

Lu Heng was actually quite clear-headed. Although his entire body was feverish and his head dazed, his mind was perfectly lucid. From the moment Shikong appeared at the pool’s edge, to Shikong standing there gazing at him in a daze, to the moment he yanked Shinkong down into the cold pool—through the entire sequence, Lu Heng had been fully aware.

This was intentional. He had kept Hong Mei’s words from that night close in his heart. Why not test the waters? Indeed, why not test the waters? Was this not a perfect opportunity?

Shikong had been pulled down without any warning and sat somewhat ungracefully in the pool water. Lu Heng moved forward, straddling his waist, his arms winding around Shikong. He pressed his face close to the side of Shikong’s neck and blew a gentle breath against his skin.

Lu Heng was just preparing to press his advantage further when he felt the back of his neck captured by Shikong’s cool hand. A gentle yet resolute force drew him away.

Then he watched as Shikong sat cross-legged, brought his palms together, and said, “Calm your mind. Your spirit is unstable. This humble monk will recite the Heart-Calming Sutra for you.”

Looking at that serene, handsome monk, Lu Heng felt a pang of dejection. Could it be that Shikong truly regarded him merely as a junior to be cherished? But then Lu Heng dismissed the thought, for he noticed that Shikong’s earlobes were noticeably redder than usual.

The corner of Lu Heng’s mouth curled upward. This person was not as tranquil as he appeared on the surface.

Within the forbidden grounds, all was silent. No wind, no sound—only the moonlight seeping through a crack in the cavern’s ceiling, stealing its way silently into the cold pool. The moonlight was cool and pale; the pool water was icy cold. But the two figures entangled within it warmed this otherwise desolate and chilling night.

“Zheng, do not be driven by instinct.” Shikong’s palms remained joined, his lowered gaze fixed on the pool water, his tone utterly devoid of fluctuation.

“Instinct?” Lu Heng draped his arms over Shikong’s shoulders, his lips tracing lightly along the side of Shikong’s ear.

“Snakes undergo a period of heat upon reaching adulthood. You do not know what you are doing right now.” Even in this state, Shikong’s expression remained impassive.

“Are we great Yaos not above being ruled by instinct? I am perfectly clear-headed right now.” Lu Heng’s hand cupped Shikong’s cheek, yet he found his expression still calm and composed.

Shikong lowered his eyes and softly chanted a Buddhist invocation.

“A still heart, a still body?” Lu Heng smiled softly, his voice low and laced with a husky roughness. “Shikong, my heart delights in you.”

With those words, Lu Heng leaned in and pressed his lips against Shikong’s cool mouth.

Shikong’s always-joined palms slowly parted. His heart had, at last, been disturbed.

Lu Heng felt a powerful force press against the back of his head, drawing his lips in even closer. Shikong’s right hand cupped the back of his head while his left arm locked firmly around Lu Heng’s waist, granting him no room for retreat.

The bright moon in the sky retreated behind a layer of clouds. The cold pool’s water stirred on its own without wind, and the sound of waves lapping against the pool’s walls echoed through the cavern.

A night of tender passion.