Chapter Seventy-Three: Secret Tales of the Abyssal Heavens

When Wen Zhong witnessed the scene, he seemed to have understood something, but merely smiled without revealing it. He knew the king’s character well—clever and full of tricks. The power to make words reality must surely come at a cost. Yet, that cost was certainly not merely physical weakness; as for what it truly was, Wen Zhong could not be sure. Still, one thing was certain: the king feigned frailty precisely to avoid being beset by more supplicants seeking his help to break through their cultivation limits.

It had to be admitted, this was an ingenious move. As for that slap he’d given himself earlier, Wen Zhong guessed it was intentional—Zhang Kui’s expression at the time had said everything. Clearly, it was an act of retribution! The little rascal had finally turned his schemes on Wen Zhong himself. He couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. After all the times he’d bested the king in their childhood battles of wit, the boy still hadn’t learned his lesson.

Nonetheless, Wen Zhong betrayed nothing of his thoughts. Instead, he looked at Jiang Yuan and smiled, “Didn’t Your Majesty have something to ask of me?”

Jiang Yuan remained oblivious to how thoroughly he’d been seen through, continuing his performance with the air of a master thespian. “Ah, what a memory I have! These aftereffects are dreadful—had you not reminded me, I nearly forgot.” He feigned remorse.

“There’s no need for contrition, Your Majesty. I bear some responsibility for your current condition. It is only right that I remind you,” Wen Zhong replied with respectful formality. Yet inwardly, his mind was as calm as still water. Go on with your act, let’s see how many tricks you have left.

“Cough, cough… What I wished to ask you, Grand Preceptor, concerns the Abyss of Heaven,” Jiang Yuan said, covering his mouth as if weakened, hoping to mend any cracks in his earlier performance.

“Oh? Your Majesty is interested in the Abyss of Heaven?” Wen Zhong arched an eyebrow in mild surprise.

Jiang Yuan frowned slightly. Why was this not proceeding as he had expected? Shouldn’t Wen Zhong, at this point, have assured him that he could ask whatever he wished and that Wen Zhong would answer without reservation? Why did it seem as if he were the one pleading for information?

Suppressing his complaints, Jiang Yuan nodded and replied, “The day I flew over the Abyss of Heaven with General Zhang and Nezha to rescue you, I was struck by its ancient and mysterious aura. But as the rescue took precedence, I could not linger. I have come today to ask you about it in detail.”

Jiang Yuan congratulated himself on how well he’d phrased it—not only expressing his curiosity but also currying favor with Wen Zhong. That was the way of a seasoned survivor in the world. In truth, he hadn’t investigated further at the time out of sheer fear. If the Abyss of Heaven was truly perilous, that would have been the end of him.

Wen Zhong was visibly moved, exclaiming, “So that is how it was. My deepest thanks, Your Majesty.”

Jiang Yuan waved it off modestly. “There’s no need for thanks. This is what I ought to do. Grand Preceptor, your life is far more important to me than any mystery the Abyss of Heaven holds.”

“Since Your Majesty is so interested, allow me to share what I know. Though I have guarded the Abyss for many years, my understanding is still quite limited,” Wen Zhong said, his tone warm, postponing any reckoning for Jiang Yuan’s earlier antics. He began to recount his experiences with the Abyss.

“Almost everyone who visits is drawn to the ancient, enigmatic aura below. I was no exception. When I first arrived, the first thing I did was fly down to explore it. Strangely, no matter how I hurried downward, I could never reach the bottom. Its depth seems truly limitless.”

“Oh? That is rather extraordinary,” Jiang Yuan replied, a little skeptical. If that were true, wouldn’t the Abyss pierce all the way to the center of the earth?

Wen Zhong shook his head. “But later, I realized that was not exactly the case. Several times, I tried, unwilling to give up, and flew downward for three days and nights. Yet still, I never reached the bottom. In the end, I had to turn back. Strangely enough, the return journey took less than half a day!”

“It took three days and nights to descend, but less than half a day to ascend. This means that after half a day of descent, I must have been flying in circles, trapped in place.”

Jiang Yuan was startled. Wasn’t this just like one of those legendary ghost mazes? Could the Abyss of Heaven be the lair of the ghosts?

“Are there any other supernatural properties to the Abyss?” Jiang Yuan asked, frowning. The more he heard, the more he sensed unfathomable secrets concealed within its depths.

Wen Zhong was surprised by the question. “How did Your Majesty know there are other strange qualities?”

“If even the Grand Preceptor cannot reach its bottom, that minor peculiarity is hardly worth mentioning,” Jiang Yuan replied with confidence. Who would have thought he’d be flattering someone so overtly? But Wen Zhong was a Golden Immortal—he deserved it.

“You flatter me, Your Majesty, but indeed, there are other marvels,” Wen Zhong said, visibly pleased by the praise—not everyone merited such words from the king.

“The Abyss separates the Human Tribe from the Witch and Ghost Tribes. At first, I suspected it was the stronghold of one or both of those tribes and sent many of their kind, some of them true immortals, down to explore its depths. What was truly astonishing was this: the Abyss poses no harm or rejection to our people, but for the Witch and Ghost Tribes, the deeper they go, the more violently they are repelled. It can even destroy them outright, without exception.”

This thoroughly piqued Jiang Yuan’s curiosity. So, the Abyss was not the lair of the ghosts after all. Since it posed no threat to humans, he could explore it in safety. At last, the stone in his heart was lifted.

“It seems the secrets of the Abyss are far from trivial. My curiosity is only growing—I can hardly wait to investigate it myself.” Jiang Yuan rose eagerly from his bed, unable to contain his excitement.

A cold, amused smile flickered at the corner of Wen Zhong’s mouth. “It seems the aftereffects of your miraculous power were not so severe after all. You’re up and about quite energetically already.”

Jiang Yuan froze mid-motion, realizing he had given himself away completely. His over-eagerness had betrayed him! Yet in a moment, his composure returned and he smiled, “Perhaps the Abyss of Heaven entices me so much that I forgot all about my fatigue.”

Wen Zhong looked at him with mild amusement. Even now, the king was still trying to wriggle out of it? “If you ask me, the side effects of your miraculous power aren’t nearly as bad as you claim—surely not as damaging as, say, an encounter with that vixen Daji?”

Jiang Yuan managed a dry laugh. But as soon as he saw the pair of male and female whips appear in Wen Zhong’s hands, his expression changed dramatically. He called out toward the tent, “Someone! Summon General Zhang Kui to see me at once!”