Everyone assumed that the Heaven Beyond Heaven would move swiftly against the Divine Realm, but the Green-Eyed Zombie’s first targets were the mortals. It selected humans brimming with extreme malevolence and bestowed upon them zombie blood, granting them immortality at the cost of never again seeing the sun. From then on, they lived only in the darkness.
The Divine Realm did not raise its guard—after all, what could a mere group of humans do? But they had forgotten that human nature is inherently cunning. These humans infiltrated the Three Realms in various guises, moving about and persuading demons or immortals who harbored grievances against the Divine Realm. It was only when the Divine Realm discovered that members of the celestial tribes were wavering, or even defecting to the enemy, that they finally took action.
The Heaven Beyond Heaven and the Divine Realm engaged in numerous skirmishes, testing one another’s strength. Finally, as the Green-Eyed Zombie prepared to break the seal on the Demon Path, the two sides met for a decisive battle at the edge of that forbidden realm.
Guanyin led Qiao’er along the Yellow Springs Road until they reached the Santu River. The river bordered the Animal Realm, the Demon Path, and the Avici Hell. Along the banks stood the Clothes-Snatching Trees, their heights piercing the clouds, their branches hung with sinful souls whose wails and pleas for help could be heard from afar. Beneath the trees, the Equinox Flowers bloomed in a riot of blood-red, stretching toward the horizon in a beauty as tragic as a dying maiden.
The river’s current was rapid, surging with hidden torrents, yet there was a ferry crossing where a lonely skiff ferried the newly departed souls to the other side. Qiao’er scanned the area as they walked, but she saw no sign of the Green-Eyed Zombie.
Guanyin led her onto the boat. The ferryman showed no deference to the Bodhisattva’s status: "Twelve wen, thank you."
Guanyin grumbled as he handed over the money. Qiao’er continued to peer out from the bow. The water beneath the boat was murky and foul; from time to time, low laughter or piercing shrieks echoed from the depths. There was no telling how many wronged souls were submerged within, denied salvation for eternity.
As Qiao’er was lost in thought, a commotion broke out on the ferry ahead. She leaned out to look and saw a soul being hauled out of the cabin by its collar. Qiao’er looked at the ferryman in confusion. He only bothered to answer her out of respect for Guanyin: "Couldn't pay the fare."
Seeing that the soul was about to be tossed into the River of Forgetfulness, Qiao’er grew anxious and tugged at Guanyin’s sleeve. Guanyin clicked his tongue and finally spoke with visible reluctance, "Wu the Second, put the fare on Perfected One Gongxi’s tab."
The soul turned its head to look back. In the gloom of the Wangchuan, Qiao’er could only see its profile, which was unexpectedly delicate and handsome. The ferryman grumbled but hauled the soul back into the cabin. Bored, Guanyin noticed the sandalwood box Qiao’er was clutching and reached for it, but she only smiled at him. "When the time comes, you’ll know what’s inside."
Guanyin did not press her, but he reiterated his sole condition for bringing her to witness the battle: "No matter what happens, even if it dies right in front of you, you must not interfere. Don't forget that you are still human. If the Divine Realm so much as touches your Book of Fate, they can crush you however they please."
Qiao’er simply held the sandalwood box tighter, gazing out at the vast, misty Wangchuan with a faint smile.
Guanyin was a Bodhisattva who could never let a silence linger. He sat down beside her. "Have you ever been here before?"
Qiao’er tilted her head. "I must have, but I’ve simply forgotten."
Guanyin reached out with his left hand to trail his fingers in the water. Instantly, several souls leaped up to bite his fingers. His fingertips were soon dripping with blood, yet he seemed entirely unbothered, even teasing them with his touch as he murmured to himself, "Our meeting today is a stroke of fate. I shall ferry you across as well."
His presence suddenly took on the serene majesty of a Buddha. A soft Sanskrit chant rose into the air. The malevolent soul, originally a murky grey-black, began to emit plumes of black smoke until it gradually turned transparent. Seeing another boat behind them, Guanyin waved his hand. The semi-transparent soul drifted gently toward the other vessel. Finally, from the distance, it bowed twice toward him from the deck before entering the cabin.
The chanting faded. Guanyin stood at the prow, his white robes and black hair fluttering in the river breeze. A faint divine light swirled around him, illuminating the Wangchuan.
Then, he let out a decidedly un-divine whistle. The ferryman on the other boat called out, "Bodhisattva, is the fare on your tab again?"
Guanyin pressed a hand to his forehead. "These days, it’s hard to be a good man." Having said that, he stood up, cupped his slender, clean hands around his mouth like a megaphone, and shouted toward the small boat, "You soul! Remember that you still owe me six wen!"
Qiao’er was speechless.
Because they were heading toward the Demon Path, their route diverged from the boats taking souls to the Naihe Bridge. Guanyin fished out his Pure Vase from somewhere, intending to fill it with water, but a shower of gold leaves accidentally tumbled out. Qiao’er leaned over suspiciously, finding the gold leaves strangely familiar, but he shooed her away. "Go play over there. It’s not every day you visit the Santu River; look around while you can. I am an immortal Bodhisattva, you can see me anytime." Having driven Qiao’er away, he watched the souls scrambling for the gold leaves in the water, his voice full of mock heartbreak. "A moment’s carelessness, and all these gold leaves go to you lot. Ah, well. As that Li-somebody said, 'A thousand gold pieces spent will come back again.'"
Qiao’er gave a cold snort. The ferryman at the oar spoke up, "Bodhisattva, you are too unfair. You practice charity here, yet you ignore the poorest man of all—me."
More and more souls swarmed beneath the water to fight for the gold leaves. Qiao’er vaguely recalled a rule of the Santu River: any soul boarding a boat had to pay six wen. If they could not pay, the ferryman deemed their character lacking—reasoning that in a long lifetime, they hadn't managed to earn even six wen worth of goodwill—and tossed them into the river.
The water was infested with ghosts, making it impossible to swim across alone. Thus, countless souls were left to drift and sink here, denied reincarnation forever.
Guanyin was an approachable Bodhisattva, and this ferryman had likely ferried him many times, for they were quite familiar. Hearing the complaint, Guanyin laughed and scolded, "You, poor? You’re only poor in spirit! I can’t help you with that."
"With these gold leaves, can they cross the river?" Qiao’er asked. Guanyin gathered his robes and sat back down at the bow. "Mhm."
He then added with interest, "Women have it much better than men. If a woman falls into the water, the man she first shared her bed with can come to rescue her. Provided, of course, that the man’s soul is still around."
"The man she first shared her bed with?" Qiao’er’s eyes brightened. "Then if one wants to see her lover, does she only need to fall in here to find him?"
This time, the ferryman and Guanyin were in total agreement: "Pfft!"
Guanyin did not take Qiao’er directly to the edge of the Demon Path. A cordon had been established on the Santu River, prohibiting all boats and souls from approaching the war zone. However, Guanyin was the favored disciple of the Buddha of the Western Heaven; seeing him was like seeing the Buddha himself. More terrifyingly, if one provoked him, he would surely pester the Buddha to come to this gloomy realm to preach and "convert" everyone. Thus, their skiff proceeded without hindrance.
They stood at the bow, watching from a distance. Qiao’er’s vision had improved greatly; she could now see the carnage on the riverbank. Countless minor immortals and demons were being torn apart, their blood flowing into the Santu River to blend with the Equinox Flowers, creating a scene of terrifying brilliance.
She clutched the sandalwood box tightly. Guanyin reminded her again, "Just watch. If you interfere, you’ll be the death of me."
Qiao’er soon spotted the Green-Eyed Zombie. The battle was brutal on both sides, but the Divine Realm clearly held the upper hand—it had been established for eons, after all; how could the Heaven Beyond Heaven hope to contend with it?
Qiao’er had never understood why the Green-Eyed Zombie was doing this. It was clearly throwing an egg against a stone.
As the casualties of the Heaven Beyond Heaven mounted, the Divine Realm remained unhurried. Finally, they deployed Lord Mao Ri. Only then did Qiao’er understand why they were so confident. Intense solar light illuminated the Wangchuan, and all the creatures of darkness began to flee in terror. Wails filled the air as the stench of charred flesh drifted through the sky.
Guanyin covered his nose with his sleeve. "This battle truly lacks any sense of aesthetic."
Taking advantage of his distraction, Qiao’er suddenly flew off on her sword. Guanyin reached out but failed to catch her. He could only watch as she landed by the Demon Path, muttering to himself, "Now I'm in for it. *Sob, sob...* Master, your disciple is coming back to listen to your cold... er, your sutras..."
Qiao’er landed but did not join the fray. The smell of burning flesh grew heavier. She opened the sandalwood box, revealing it to be full of water beads. The scene was too chaotic for anyone to notice her. She poured the beads out and buried them two feet deep in the earth. Within moments, a thunderous roar of water arrived. She, along with countless gods, immortals, and demons, was swept into the depths of the Wangchuan.
Guanyin’s first reaction was to transform into the likeness of another celestial general and immediately flee on a cloud...
Qiao’er had vastly underestimated those water beads. That day, the banks of the Santu River collapsed. The vengeful spirits who had drifted in the river for countless ages were released, swept away by the floodwaters and scattered everywhere. The Naihe Bridge was washed away, preventing dead souls from entering the underworld. The cycle of the Heavenly Dao was severed, and the balance of Yin and Yang was shattered.
Only then did the Divine Realm truly panic.
Qiao’er drifted in the water for a long time. The waters of the Santu River were enchanted to trap vengeful spirits; the higher one’s cultivation, the harder it was to escape. Qiao’er did not struggle; she only searched for the Green-Eyed Zombie. She didn't know how far she had been swept or how much time had passed—perhaps a day, perhaps only an hour—when a hand gripped hers. She looked down and saw the Green-Eyed Zombie. It didn't even look at her; the current was too swift. It only had time to pull her into its arms, letting the torrent slam its body against countless mountains and lakes with the force of a thunderbolt. Curled in its embrace, her senses were dull, save for its body heat, which wrapped around her through the freezing flood of the Wangchuan, warm and safe. She remained silent the whole way.
The flood was too sudden; the Divine Realm had no time to pursue them.
But the true victims this time were the mortals. The collapse of the Santu River was an unprecedented event since the establishment of the Heavenly Dao, and the Divine Realm had no effective response. The river water flooded the mortal world, allowing countless vengeful spirits and ghosts to escape and wreak havoc upon the earth. With the Naihe Bridge destroyed, the dead could not reincarnate and were forced to linger among the living.
In the mortal world, the balance shifted; Yin flourished while Yang withered. Natural disasters and man-made calamities broke out everywhere, and the human path fell into chaos.
While the Divine Realm was in disarray, Mo Lingtai, the Consort of the Heaven Beyond Heaven, led an army into the Avici Hell. At that time, Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva had already been startled by the sudden flood of the Santu River and had ordered the guardians of the Avici Hell to help control the waters. With the hell's defenses empty, Mo Lingtai, in the name of the Master of the Heaven Beyond Heaven, broke the seals and released all the irredeemable fallen gods, demons, and monsters imprisoned within.
Qiao’er realized she had been used. It had spent so much time with her; it understood her thoughts perfectly. It had used the seal of the Demon Path as a ruse to divert the Divine Realm’s attention. Its true goal was the vengeful spirits of the Wangchuan and the fallen gods and demons of the Avici Hell.
It had planned all these steps the moment it gave her those water beads.
No time, no space, no respite from suffering, no equality, no end to life or death—what terrifying sins and grievances were imprisoned within that Avici Hell?
When Qiao’er returned to Guantian Court, the world was in chaos. Demons ran rampant, floods ravaged the land, and reincarnation was blocked. Guanyin had been hauled off to the Sutra Pavilion; it was said he wouldn't be out for at least six months to a year.
Fan Shaohuang sat within a formation, using a pile of small stones to calculate someone’s destiny. Qiao’er sat before the formation with several jars of wine—the "Autumn Dew White" that he liked. She had lain in the coffin in the small wooden hut for a long time, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
"Drink with me." She poured the wine onto the ground. Fan Shaohuang set down his stones, his voice low. "It won't be easy to deal with it now, but it’s not impossible. The Divine Realm has Lord Mao Ri, and it fears the sun. When Ba left the curse, she must have foreseen this day. Gongxi, wake up. It is no longer the Hou it once was. It will only become more and more insane."
Qiao’er lay on her back before the formation. Tonight was starless and moonless. Guantian Court, one of the few places untouched by the disasters, remained as quiet as ever. She didn't know how long she had been staring at the sky when the wine jar in her left hand was taken away. A hand interlaced its fingers with hers. She turned her head and saw the Green-Eyed Zombie.
It lay down beside her, mimicking her posture. Qiao’er rolled over to lie on top of it. She had drunk an unknown amount of wine; her cheeks were flushed a dizzying red, and she smelled strongly of alcohol. The Green-Eyed Zombie quietly let her rest against its chest. When their eyes met, its emerald pupils shimmered with shifting depths, as clear as lustrous pearls.
Qiao’er smiled. "Fellow cultivator, Master of the Heaven Beyond Heaven... you’ve come?"
A faint smile touched its features. Its long silver hair spilled down like water, and the faint, flowing colors of flame flickered upon its black robes. The green in its eyes seemed washed with moisture, bright and clear. "Gongxi, you clearly already know. Why continue to deceive yourself?"
On this starless, moonless night, the sound of the wind carried the roar of the jade-green sea. Golden-red sparks of light swirled around it. Those eyes and brows were still as peerlessly beautiful as if carved from ice and jade.
Qiao’er shook her head, smiling. "I don't know anything. If there’s nothing else, I’m going to sleep."
She moved to get up, but the Green-Eyed Zombie gently caught her slender wrist. It let out a sigh. "Don't be sad, Gongxi. Your path and mine are, in the end, different."
Qiao’er suddenly looked up at it, her voice loud: "Call me Qiao’er!"
The Green-Eyed Zombie continued to smile—an exquisite face, a strange smile. It was right in front of her, yet it felt worlds away. "Don't be like this, Gongxi."
Qiao’er’s eyes brimmed with tears, yet she stubbornly stared it down. "Call me Qiao’er."
The zombie’s smile held a trace of helplessness. "Gongxi."
Its fingertips brushed her cheek. Its gaze was tender and sorrowful, much like the tears that were about to fall from her eyes.
***
