The vast hall lay silent, emptied of everyone but Gao Yang and Xiao Man.
Xiao Man's voice was soft, almost timid. "Master… would you like me to take you to your room?"
Gao Yang sighed and nodded. "Please do."
Startled, Xiao Man dropped to her knees. "It's my duty, Master. Please don't apologize."
She led him down a dim corridor to a quiet side chamber. "This way, Master."
The room was tidy and surprisingly refined—a broad, carved bed against the wall, and a polished desk lined with lush spirit plants. Two books rested atop it, their covers decorated with ornate illustrations. One bore the title Detailed Study of Foundation Building; the other had no name at all. Above the desk, a radiant glass spider shimmered on its web, the rainbow glow of its body glinting in the lamplight.
When Gao Yang blinked and opened his right eye, the illusion shattered.
The room became a dark cave. The fine bed was nothing but a tattered mat. The table was covered in thick cobwebs and patches of mold. The two books were old and rotting, their covers barely visible beneath grime. Above them, a spider the size of a fist—its colors bright yet poisonous—spread its fangs at him, as if warning him away.
A chill crawled up his spine.
Then, to his horror, the two visions began to merge. The illusions of his left eye faded, and the decayed, dreadful scene of his right eye swallowed everything whole.
Panicked, Gao Yang blinked rapidly until the two worlds split again. But now, even the clean, beautiful room of his left eye looked fragile—like a bubble that might burst at any second.
He closed his eyes, breathing deeply to steady himself. When he opened them again, Xiao Man was watching him with worried eyes.
"What's wrong, Master?" she asked nervously.
"I'm fine," Gao Yang said quickly, perhaps too sharply. "I'm not sick!"
Xiao Man flinched, dropping to her knees again. "Forgive me, Master!"
Realizing his outburst, Gao Yang sighed and softened his tone. "Tell me… how does this room look to you?"
She blinked. "It's… just a room, Master."
"And that spider?" Gao Yang pointed at the web above the table.
Xiao Man's face brightened. "It's beautiful! Its body glows with all seven colors. The Immortal Mistress said such spiders are spirit pets—Seven-Color Glaze Spiders. If one appears in your room, it means your cultivation talent has drawn it here!"
She clapped her hands cheerfully. "Master, that must mean you're gifted!"
As she spoke, the vivid illusion from his left eye grew clearer again, the decay retreating like mist. But her words only deepened the pit in his stomach.
He remembered a rumor he'd once heard as a child—about one of the Immortal Mistress's disciples who had gone mad. The disciple had run screaming down the mountain, shouting that everyone in Azure Mountain Temple were monsters—that even the Mistress herself was one.
When she caught him, she declared, "He's ill. A worm has eaten his mind."
She had cut open his head and removed a writhing, foot-long parasite from his brain. After that, the disciple was "cured." But he forgot everything—his name, his family, his past.
Earlier today, Gao Yang had seen that very man among his new senior brothers.
His eyes were empty—pitch black holes.
The rumor was true.
A cold dread filled him. He couldn't let that happen to him. He somehow knew that if the Mistress ever opened his skull, something far worse than death would follow.
A sudden knock broke his thoughts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door creaked open, and Twelfth Senior Sister stepped inside. The maggot that dangled from her rotting cheek swayed as she moved.
Gao Yang forced a strained smile. "Twelfth Senior Sister… is something wrong?"
She looked young—no older than fifteen—but her tone was weary. She pointed at her face. "You must think I'm ugly, don't you?"
Gao Yang swallowed. "Twelfth Senior Sister is… very beautiful."
She waved him off. "Don't lie. I used to be like you. You look at me and see a monster." Her gaze sharpened. "Three days from now, when Master returns, she'll give you a Foundation Pill. Don't take it. If you do, you'll end up like me."
Before he could respond, she turned and left, her decayed silhouette vanishing into the dim corridor.
Puzzled and uneasy, Gao Yang stepped into the hall—just in time to meet a tall man with scarred, milky eyes.
Third Senior Brother.
A centipede-like scar circled his bald head, the mark of something terrible.
"Was that Twelfth?" the man asked, tilting his head as if listening to fading footsteps.
Gao Yang bowed respectfully. "Third Senior Brother."
The blind man pressed a book into his hands. "This is my cultivation insight. Read it before Master returns—it may help you." He turned to leave.
Gao Yang blinked. A blind man wrote a book?
Curiosity gnawed at him. He opened it and found sharp, elegant calligraphy. Though Gao Yang was illiterate, the words seemed to crawl into his mind, forcing meaning into his thoughts.
After a few paragraphs, pain split his skull. He slammed the book shut, gasping.
The words echoed in his mind:
Cultivation is not the pursuit of immortality.
Foundation Building is a deception of the flesh.
Our bodies are but vessels; we must ascend to escape the sea of suffering.
Sever all emotion, abandon all desire—only then can thought become pure.
The first line baffled him.
Cultivation is not the pursuit of immortality.
Then what is it?
Before he could ponder further, a tug at his sleeve drew his attention.
Xiao Man whispered, "Master, the First Senior Brother is here."
A shadow filled the doorway.
The man was impossibly tall—over two meters—his limbs long and stiff, his skin stretched thin like parchment over bone. His body reminded Gao Yang of an insect—like a walking stick come to life.
"First Senior Brother," Gao Yang greeted, looking up.
The tall man's sunken eyes flicked to the book in Gao Yang's hands, and his expression darkened. "That fool's brain isn't right. You've seen it—his head was opened once. Don't read his madness."
He strode to the table, snatched up Detailed Study of Foundation Building, and tossed it at Gao Yang's chest. "If you want to understand the path of cultivation, read this instead."
Gao Yang caught it carefully, bowing again.
The First Senior Brother's gaze swept the room. "Later, have your servant fetch you a chamber pot. Don't step outside at night." His tone turned grim. "When the night comes, the spirit plants and beasts come out to feed. If you provoke one… no one can save you while Master's gone."
He laughed suddenly, the sound sharp and cruel. "Thirteen wasn't even supposed to be you. The last one didn't listen—went out after dark. By morning, all we found was half a head. Hahaha!"
Gao Yang's stomach turned. "Thank you for the warning, Senior Brother."
The tall man nodded and started toward the door. But halfway there, he paused and looked back.
Gao Yang tensed.
Before he could speak, Xiao Man hurriedly pulled two small pieces of silver from her sleeve, offering them with shaking hands. "Immortal Brother, my master sent me to deliver a token of respect."
The man's grin widened, splitting across his thin face. "Good. You're sensible."
And with that, he left, his laughter echoing down the corridor like the rasp of dry leaves.