Chapter 65: The Fairy


    Fortunately, the cloth pouch containing the insect eggs was still there. Whoever had searched him likely didn’t recognize its value and had left it untouched. Relieved, Han Ming finally allowed himself to relax and take a proper look around.


    Struggling to sit up on the edge of the stone slab, he surveyed his surroundings. He was in a massive stone cell, cold and damp, with walls as hard as iron, nearly impossible to damage. Directly in front of him was a small door made of an unknown material, wide enough for three people to pass through side by side. Below the door was a small square opening, too narrow for anyone to crawl through. On the ground beneath the opening sat a plate with a few vegetables and a small cup of water.


    So they don’t want me dead, but they’re afraid I’ll regain my strength if they feed me properly, Han Ming thought with a bitter smile. But what does Bai Kai want from me?


    Earlier, Bai Kai had mentioned belonging to some sect, and it seemed their sect leader also had an interest in Han Ming. His mind was a jumble of questions, and he couldn’t make sense of it all.


    As he shakily stood up, something fell from his body and clattered to the ground. Curious, he bent down to pick it up and realized it was the animal skin he had retrieved from the Ink Ape’s skull. With Bai Kai and the others around at the time, he hadn’t had a chance to examine it and had nearly forgotten about it.


    Trembling, he made his way to the small door. The effects of the white powder Bai Kai had used on him hadn’t fully worn off, leaving him weak and unable to muster any strength. It took considerable effort just to reach the door, where he sat down and examined the animal skin by the faint light.


    The text on the skin read:


    “I, Li Xiaotian, have devoted my life to martial arts, reaching the pinnacle of skill. In my youth, I traveled far and wide, challenging masters of martial arts and emerging victorious every time. I once held unparalleled fame in the Huangtian Continent.”


    This guy’s got quite the ego, Han Ming thought as he read the first paragraph. He had never met anyone who claimed to be undefeated. He wondered if this Li Xiaotian was truly as skilled as he claimed. It seemed he was from another continent.


    “By middle age, I longed for a worthy opponent but found none. So I left my homeland in search of the ultimate martial path. Crossing oceans, I arrived in a new land called the Northern Alliance. Yet even there, no one could match me. Disheartened, I settled in a secluded place and founded a sect called the Secret Sect. One day, while traveling, I encountered a young girl with extraordinary talent and took her in as my disciple. I named her Yaoji and treated her as my own daughter. Little did I know, she was cunning and ambitious. Twenty years later, she betrayed me, severely injuring me and stealing a demonic technique I had stumbled upon in my youth—a technique that allows one to drain the life force and essence of others to strengthen oneself.”


    What a tragic story, Han Ming thought. He raised her like his own daughter, only to be betrayed by her. How pitiful.


    The middle section of the text detailed how Li Xiaotian had nurtured his disciple, recruited talented individuals to grow his sect, and how he had been ambushed by Yaoji. It also described the sinister nature of the demonic technique.


    But what caught Han Ming’s attention was the final part.


    Li Xiaotian mentioned being imprisoned by Yaoji in a specially constructed stone cell, where his lifelong cultivation of combat energy was destroyed. He spent forty years in that cell, never giving up hope of escape. Using his formidable physical strength, he dug a tunnel leading to the back of the mountain. One day, when a disciple brought him food, he killed the disciple, disguised himself as the disciple, and left the cell. He then faked evidence suggesting the disciple had fled the sect. Meanwhile, Li Xiaotian escaped through the tunnel, only to find that the back of the mountain was a dead end—a massive cave with narrow cracks impossible for a person to pass through.


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    He hid in that cave for thirty years.


    One day, he spotted a small monkey squeezing through a crack in the mountain. Seizing the opportunity, he captured the monkey and used a secret technique to implant the animal skin with his plea for help into the monkey’s head. He then released the monkey, hoping someone would find it and come to his rescue.


    Li Xiaotian promised to reveal the location of a treasure he had hidden in the Huangtian Continent to anyone who saved him.


    What shocked Han Ming was that the stone cell Li Xiaotian described seemed identical to the one he was currently in.


    Could it really be such a coincidence? Han Ming wondered. First, I’m imprisoned in the same cell as Li Xiaotian, and then I accidentally retrieve his plea for help from the Ink Ape’s skull. What are the odds?


    He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of treasure Li Xiaotian had hidden in the Huangtian Continent.


    Han Ming’s theory that he was in the same cell as Li Xiaotian wasn’t baseless. According to Li Xiaotian, his disciple Yaoji had stolen a demonic technique that allowed her to drain the life force and essence of others. One of the technique’s effects was the ability to bewitch and control others, making them utterly devoted and incapable of resistance.


    This reminded Han Ming of the three women who had followed Bai Kai. If Bai Kai had also learned this technique, their strange behavior would make sense.


    But this was all speculation. The only way to confirm it was to find the tunnel Li Xiaotian had mentioned.


    According to the animal skin, the tunnel was located directly beneath the stone slab Han Ming had been lying on.


    The slab was enormous. Under normal circumstances, Han Ming could have moved it easily, but weakened by Bai Kai’s drug, he could barely lift it.


    After several failed attempts, Han Ming gave up. I’ll have to wait until my strength returns, he thought.


    Sitting cross-legged on the slab, he closed his eyes and began meditating. Though he had no magic crystals, the damp, water-rich environment provided enough elemental energy to help him recover slightly.


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    After an unknown amount of time, the small door creaked open. Two masked figures entered without a word, each taking one of Han Ming’s arms and leading him out.


    Han Ming realized the stone cell was deep underground. The masked figures led him up a spiraling stone staircase until they finally emerged into sunlight.


    They passed through a massive stone gate guarded by sentries, who briefly inspected them before allowing them to proceed.


    The two masked figures led Han Ming down a long corridor. The surroundings opened up, revealing a mix of wooden buildings, both tall and short, simple yet elegant. The walls of the corridor were adorned with intricate carvings—birds, beasts, rare plants, and figures of men and women, all exuding vitality. Among them were two paintings of a fairy, her skin as white as snow, draped in sheer gauze. In one painting, she walked gracefully; in the other, she soared like a crane, breathtakingly beautiful.


    Han Ming couldn’t help but marvel at the artistry.


    They passed through several courtyards and winding paths until they reached a grand hall.


    “Go in!” the masked figures ordered, tying Han Ming’s hands behind his back with rope and shoving him through the door. They remained outside, guarding the entrance.


    Han Ming looked around the vast hall. Aside from a few massive pillars, the only notable feature was an enormous wooden bed at the center. The walls and pillars were covered in carvings of the same fairy he had seen earlier, each depicting her in a different pose.


    Suddenly, the wooden bed began to shake violently.


    Is someone on the bed? Han Ming wondered.


    Cautiously, he approached the bed, which was surrounded by layers of sheer curtains. Peeking through a gap in the curtains, he was met with a scene that made his face burn.


    On the bed, a man and woman, both completely naked, were entangled in an intimate embrace. The woman turned her head and smiled seductively at Han Ming before returning to her activities.


    Han Ming quickly backed away, his heart racing. He had never seen anything like this.


    What shocked him even more was that the woman on the bed was the fairy depicted in the carvings.


    Who is she? Could she be Yaoji, the disciple Li Xiaotian mentioned?


    But that didn’t make sense. According to Li Xiaotian’s timeline, Yaoji would be nearly a hundred years old by now. Yet the woman on the bed looked no older than seventeen or eighteen.


    Unsure of what to do, Han Ming retreated to a corner of the hall, his mind racing.


    After a while, the bed finally stopped shaking. Soft laughter and whispers came from behind the curtains.


    A moment later, the curtains parted, and a man emerged, casually dressing himself. He paid no attention to Han Ming and walked straight to the door, exiting the hall.


    Han Ming was stunned. The man was strikingly handsome, with delicate, almost feminine features. His skin was pale, his waist slender, and his movements were unnaturally graceful. But his face was haggard, with deep dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days.