Chapter Fifteen: The Secret of the Millennium Huang Residence (Part 1)

The Shisheng Lamp, also known as the Soul Gathering Lamp, is a vessel capable of housing another’s primordial spirit—something even the previous Yellow Fox was unaware of. But what difference would it make if it knew? It would still have been powerless against the primordial soul dwelling within the lamp, utterly defeated.

The Yellow Fox Spirit sneered, “Such a fine body. I’ll gladly accept it, hahahaha…”

Suddenly, a sinister laughter echoed through the manor, making the Fire Qilin and Little Azure tense with anxiety. From the sound alone, they could discern that this was a formidable opponent—one whose strength surpassed that of the previous Yellow Fox. Instantly, both found themselves plunged back into mortal danger.

In the next moment, a small figure materialized atop the red lamp. If it hadn’t stood there, Fire Qilin and Little Azure might never have guessed the source of that eerie voice. So, it was yet another Yellow Fox—though its aura was several times stronger than the last. It seemed fate had doomed Fire Qilin and Little Azure to perish.

The Yellow Fox leaped down, eyes greedily fixed upon Little Azure’s body. It had waited centuries for this moment, spending those years healing wounds and restoring its cultivation while yearning for a powerful vessel like Little Azure’s. Now that such a body was before it, how could it not be ecstatic?

Yet, its ambitions would soon be thwarted—it should never have coveted Little Azure’s treasure body.

Fire Qilin and Little Azure knew their fate was sealed, but their only thought was escape. Before the Yellow Fox Spirit could unleash its power, they resolved to flee, even if it meant braving the odds.

But as they took their first step, the Yellow Fox Spirit immobilized them from afar, freezing them in place. How could their speed ever match its?

“Run? As if it were so easy,” the Yellow Fox Spirit scoffed.

With a single bound, it appeared before Little Azure, ready to possess his body. Yet, in the next instant, something wholly unexpected occurred—a tremendous force pulled it inexorably toward Fire Qilin, against its will.

What was happening? No matter how it struggled, it could not escape the suction, forced helplessly toward Fire Qilin, its eyes wide with disbelief.

The Four Souls Pearl had sensed a potent primordial spirit and began absorbing its energy to restore itself. As a special artifact, the Four Souls Pearl could be activated by the wearer’s heartfelt plea, slaying the primordial soul invisibly.

Fire Qilin, as its bearer, was desperate and silently cried out for help, inadvertently triggering the pearl’s power.

It could also be activated with spiritual energy—the mechanism was simple. As long as the wearer bore the pearl, any method of activation would suffice.

“No!” the Yellow Fox Spirit cried.

It barely managed a word before being mercilessly wiped out, becoming nourishment for the Four Souls Pearl.

The Yellow Fox Spirit was but a millennium-old demon beast, while the Four Souls Pearl, though equally ancient, possessed a natural supremacy over beasts from its era. Unless one surpassed the pearl by five hundred years, escape from its lethal power was unlikely.

Its death was fortunate. With a millennium’s cultivation, had it possessed Little Azure’s body, chaos would have swept the world—a thousand years of cultivation was no trifling matter. Anyone not of equal standing would have been crushed beneath its power, unable to fight back.

Had it not spent centuries healing and lurking within the red lamp, waiting for the ideal vessel, it might have broken through to even greater cultivation, and perhaps not even the Four Souls Pearl could have contained it.

Cultivation itself is a profound and mysterious thing. Some forsake advancement, lingering at one realm for hundreds or thousands—even tens of thousands—of years, solely to comprehend the essence of cultivation. Those who possess ten thousand years of cultivation are gods, and only immortals pursue such heights, for ordinary cultivators cannot reach such realms.

But that is a tale for another time. Who could have foreseen, after a thousand years, the Yellow Fox would die by the hand of an artifact? Its misfortune lay in meeting Fire Qilin, the bearer of such a pearl—had it encountered another, its schemes might have succeeded.

Hours later, Fire Qilin and Little Azure’s acupoints released them. They had suffered, immobilized for hours like fools. Had anyone entered the Yellow Mansion during that time, they might have already been corpses.

Fire Qilin exclaimed, “That was close—we nearly lost our lives.”

Little Azure replied, “Brother, if I’m not mistaken, it was this pearl that saved us.”

With Little Azure’s words, they approached the coffin, examining the pearl hanging from Fire Qilin’s neck under the glow of four yellow lamps. What they saw startled them—it was just as Little Azure said. The pearl, once black, had turned white. Under the lamp’s illumination, they saw clearly that this was no coincidence; the pearl’s divine power had indeed saved their lives.

Clearly, the pearl was extraordinary. Fire Qilin and Little Azure grew increasingly curious—what manner of pearl was this, and how powerful could it be to slay a mighty adversary before them without resistance?

Yet their curiosity remained unfulfilled; its origins were unknown. Fire Qilin had only heard from his mother that it was a keepsake picked up by his father and then passed to her, before coming into his hands.

Well, the truth would reveal itself in time. For now, the pressing matter was at hand.

With no one left to interfere with their search for treasures, it was time to act, especially regarding the manor protected by a barrier, which intrigued them most.

They approached the manor’s entrance to examine the surroundings. The manor was much like the others, but the wall at the gate bore unusual features.

On the left wall was a vivid mural depicting various beasts—not only ancient fiends but also immortal Yellow Foxes and other creatures, with humans interspersed among them. Each group kept to itself, their specific locations unclear, but the painting revealed a world fractured by battles among these immortals, with myriad spells unleashed.

On the right wall, a line of text read:

“All things in the world are mutually generated and restrained, complementing each other. Laws give rise to forms, forms beget the Dao, Dao births meditation, meditation brings forth all things. All things can regenerate their source, endlessly, perpetually…”

After reading, Fire Qilin and Little Azure were bewildered by these cryptic writings.

Endless generation and restraint, mutual complement—what did it all mean?

The mural on the left was easy enough to understand, but the inscription on the right eluded them. Perhaps their current abilities and cultivation were insufficient to grasp its meaning; perhaps someday they would. They simply hadn’t reached that level yet—when they did, its significance would become clear.

They then began searching for a hidden compartment, believing the manor’s protective barrier was linked to it. If only they could trigger the hidden mechanism, the barrier might fall.

This was their assumption, but after half an hour of diligent searching, there was nothing.

They gave up, turning their attention to the mural and inscription, as there was nothing else to examine. Why else would such things be engraved upon the walls?

They began to study both closely. Fire Qilin sensed some connection between the mural and the inscription, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, so he continued to ponder both.

Another half hour passed, and Fire Qilin seemed to have gleaned a clue.

The mural depicted all manner of immortal arts, but the most wondrous were the spells themselves.

The Pixiu, an ancient fiend, was born of thunder and flame, its innate powers, yet it wielded not only those but also wind and earth. And it was not alone—other beasts and humans were the same. This suggested that a single spiritual root was not the only standard for cultivating one type of magic; perhaps immortals could master many forms. Then what purpose did the spiritual root serve?

At this thought, Fire Qilin’s mind reeled.

Wait—if the spiritual root served other functions, such as support, as the inscription suggested with “complementing each other,” then it all made sense.

Whether this interpretation was correct, he did not know. If so, the cultivation concepts passed down by the elders in the village were all wrong.

He needed proof.

He began an experiment. The Universe Pouch held countless manuals and spellbooks, so it would be easy to test his theory.

Little Azure was unaware of Fire Qilin’s thoughts, as he hadn’t shared them. He didn’t want to sway Little Azure with mere speculation unless he could prove his theory’s accuracy.

Next, Fire Qilin sat cross-legged upon the ground, took up a manual titled “The Classic of Virtue,” and began to cultivate.