Ji Yunxi had barely finished speaking when a ripple of water cut through the chamber.
Gao Wanwan’s eyes widened and she let out a sharp cry, clutching Ji Yunxi’s sleeve as if for dear life. Ji Yunxi herself hadn’t expected the dragon to appear again; instinctively she stepped in front of Feng Xingzhi, trying to shield him.
“It’ll be fine,” she lied, though her own heart thudded with cold uncertainty. She found herself glancing helplessly at Feng Xingzhi.
Feng Xingzhi flexed his fingers on the sword at his hip, considering where to strike so as to fell the beast in one blow. He tested the distance, edging toward the water. The river-dragon had changed from its earlier frenzy and now lay unnaturally still, watching them with an almost placid expression.
When Feng Xingzhi reached the creature’s snout, the dragon suddenly opened its mouth.
Ji Yunxi felt her blood run cold and shouted, “Zhi—watch out!”
She lunged forward to pull him back, but Feng Xingzhi raised a hand to stop her and pointed into the dragon’s open maw. “Yunxi, look at its mouth.”
She turned and saw a small brocade box nestled on the creature’s tongue.
They exchanged a look. The dragon wasn’t attacking—at least not now. It seemed to be offering something.
Qing Xuan edged forward, nervous. “Do we take it… or not?”
Ji Yunxi hesitated. Since entering this underground palace everything had seemed tied to Feng Xingzhi—the creatures had yielded to him before; they had a strange bond. That didn’t guarantee the dragon wouldn’t strike this time.
Feng Xingzhi considered for a moment, then decided to try. After all, they had found no trace of the herbs they’d come for on the way in; perhaps the clue they needed lay inside that box.
He reached out slowly. The dragon’s massive head dipped, oddly docile, and it nudged the box toward him as if pleased. Feng Xingzhi eased the brocade open. The beast, sensing their caution, slunk back into the water with leisurely sways, only its eyes peeking above the surface to watch them.
Ji Yunxi hurried to his side. “Zhi, are you all right?”
Feng Xingzhi shook his head, calm. “Don’t worry. It meant no harm.”
From a distance Gao Wanwan sniffed and glared. Look at the floor, she thought, at all those bodies—how could that thing be harmless? She muttered under her breath and shuffled closer to Qing Xuan. “How can he say that? Harmless?”
Qing Xuan, surfacing at just that moment, had heard Jiang Yaoji’s earlier words and was struck anew. So the submerged palace had been built by their master and Feng Xingzhi together? No wonder the dragon obeyed him. His gaze flicked toward the altar and then to the small box. He couldn’t help but grin, a private amusement tugging at him.
Inside the brocade lay a single, luminous fungus—deep emerald and crystalline in the way it caught the light. It gleamed with an otherworldly vitality.
“The Emerald Water Lingzhi?!” Ji Yunxi involuntarily cried.
Feng Xingzhi let out a breath he’d been holding. “I didn’t expect to find it inside the beast.”
Gao Wanwan felt a rush of vindicated comfort; she’d half-expected to be denied the prize. If she couldn’t have it, at least it would go to Feng Xingzhi and Ji Yunxi rather than to some sanctimonious rival.
They thanked the dragon—awkwardly, in whispers, to the creature that had nearly killed them—and made their way back to the stone chamber. Ji Yunxi breathed a small, steadying breath. Finding the herb meant their mission here was essentially complete. It was time to return.
Feng Xingzhi, too, welcomed the choice. He’d been worried about Ji Yunxi’s wound; getting back sooner meant they could gather the remaining ingredients and treat her properly.
Gao Wanwan, suddenly shy and out of options, begged to go with them. Ji Yunxi didn’t leave anyone behind and took her hand. “Come on, Wanwan. We’ll go up together.”
They followed the path Feng Xingzhi had taken down; the return was far quicker. By the time they reached the barrier’s mouth, the gate had been thrown wide. None of them had any breath-holding pills left—those small, precious vials that made lingering underwater possible.
“We’ll break for the surface in one go,” Ji Yunxi instructed. “Underwater, the worst thing is to tangle together. Swim your own line; once we’re clear of the water we’ll regroup.”
Everyone nodded, and Ji Yunxi led the way, pulling herself up toward the lake’s surface.
As they broke the water, she looked up and saw Jiang Yaoji standing on the shore, flanked by a dozen others. They’d arranged a formation and waited, expression hard as stone.
The moment Jiang Yaoji’s eyes landed on Ji Yunxi, something darkened in them. So she’d really made it out alive.
If Jiang Yaoji failed again, she would act—there was no doubt of that. Afterwards, Feng Xingzhi’s fate would become even more precarious.
Jiang Yaoji’s voice cut across the water, cold and leveled. “Ji Yunxi. I didn’t expect you to escape alive.”
Ji Yunxi knew the fight couldn’t be avoided. She gathered her spirit and surged out of the water, rising to stand on the lake’s surface like a living statue. Feng Xingzhi stepped up right behind her.
The sight pricked at something in Jiang Yaoji. No matter how well she’d treated Feng Xingzhi before, she’d never received so much as a glance in return. Her voice was full of resentment and a long-buried grievance. “Ji Yunxi—today, you return to the place where your soul belongs. This White Jade Palace was forged by the two of you together. Maybe you don’t remember—it was long ago—but I remember every detail.”
Ji Yunxi froze. It should have been Jiang Yaoji, like them, caught in the wheel of reincarnation; yet her memory was clear and old beyond what Ji Yunxi could recall. Some things Ji Yunxi herself couldn’t remember—yet Jiang Yaoji could explain exactly who had built this place and why. How was that possible? Had there been memories Ji Yunxi hadn’t yet reclaimed? Was Jiang Yaoji immune to the cycle of rebirth and somehow kept her youth? She didn’t look like one of the high immortals, nor like someone newly reborn. A swirl of questions crowded her mind, rendering her momentarily speechless.
Qing Xuan, surfacing at that instant, heard Jiang Yaoji’s accusation and the name of the palace and couldn’t help but be astonished. Then, with terrible timing, his gaze flicked to the altar they’d passed beneath.
He leaned toward Feng Xingzhi and Ji Yunxi with a too-serious face and murmured, perfectly out of place, “Master—if this White Jade Palace is yours, then those rotting offerings on the altar… did you eat them?”
Ji Yunxi blinked back to the present, then scowled, half amused and half exasperated. “Shut up.”