Dragon Vein Storyteller

Chapter 18 Form and Vein

Blood flowed like a river across the land. The blood seeped down the grass roots, staining the entire ground a dark red. Those who lay on the ground, some in grey robes, others in tribal armor, all had blood of the same color gushing from their wounds.

It turns out that whether it was the ancient witches and generals or the modern tomb raiders, they were all insignificant figures swept along by fate. They had no control over their birth, nor over their death. Tears fell without warning, landing on the grass and leaving small damp patches.

The old man's voice remained silent for a long time before it rang out again.

"Before her soul dissipated, the woman used her last bit of witchcraft to send the man's soul to Kunlun Mountain."

The scene then changes.

At the summit of Kunlun Mountain, ice and snow never melt. An old man stood on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a small swaddled infant at his feet. Inside the swaddle, a baby was crying. His cries were torn apart by the wind and snow, as if he were about to die. The old man turned and left, taking one last look at the infant before he left, and said something… I couldn't hear what he said, I only saw his lips move, and then the baby in the swaddle stopped crying.

This baby was that young man. He grew up day by day amidst the wind and snow. From an infant atop the Kunlun Mountains, he grew into a handsome young man.

His left eye was hollow, sunken, and he was blind. His hair was completely white, like the snow on the summit of Kunlun Mountain, without a single black strand.

I instinctively reached into my pocket, and a page from that tattered family heirloom flashed through my mind... the page I had flipped through as a child and thought was just scribbles, depicting a blind, white-haired boy in the snow on the summit of Kunlun Mountain.

"Jiang Ziya," I blurted out, my voice trembling.

No one answered me; the scene continued on its own… The young man descended the mountain, entered the world, assisted Ji Zhou, raised an army to conquer Shang, and in the Battle of Muye, the Shang dynasty was destroyed. The nine provinces of the world all fell to Ji Zhou.

I stood in the void, watching him ascend the Investiture Platform step by step. Below the platform were thousands of troops, and on the platform stood King Ji Fa of Zhou. Jiang Ziya held a sword in both hands, its blade golden and engraved with patterns... exactly the same as the one Yu the Great had been using in the previous scene. His knuckles were cracked, and blood dripped down the blade, staining the stone slabs of the Investiture Platform and spreading into small blood flowers.

"The Sword of the Human Emperor." The old man's voice rang out again, "The place where the Human Emperor's fortune gathers. Jiang Ziya uses this sword to transfer the Human Emperor's fortune to King Zhou."

He stepped forward, sword in hand. King Zhou reached out to take it.

The instant my fingertips touched the hilt of the sword...

"boom!"

The Emperor's Sword exploded.

It wasn't a break, nor a chip, it exploded. The entire sword shattered in the middle, golden fragments scattering everywhere. The shockwave overturned all the banners on the Conferred God Platform, and the soldiers below were thrown about. Jiang Ziya's blind left eye suddenly spurted out a stream of blood, the blood splattering onto his snow-white hair, a glaring red. He staggered, almost falling, reaching out to grab something, but grasping nothing.

The golden fragments burned in mid-air, transforming into four streams of energy that rushed in all directions.

One stream fell into the Yellow River. The river surface suddenly rose three feet, turbid waves surged, and water vapor rose, as if something had awakened from the riverbed, and a low, thunderous roar rolled eastward along the river channel.

One stream flowed into the Yangtze River. The river flowed backward for three breaths, the green mountains on both banks trembled, all kinds of beasts roared, birds filled the sky and blocked out the sun, and fish and shrimp in the river jumped out of the water in droves.

One of them plunged headlong into the Qinling Mountains. A deep, resonant dragon's roar echoed from within the mountain, as if something had been embedded deep within its roots. The roar didn't seem to come from the ears; it reverberated from the very bones.

The last one lingered in the air for a moment. Unlike the previous three, this last wisp of fortune had a faint bluish-green light, the same as the light emanating from the jade scroll. It did not fall into the river or sink into the mountain, but instead slowly gathered in mid-air, condensing into a small, curled-up dragon-shaped phantom, which then vanished into the void in an instant, disappearing without a trace.

"The first three have taken shape as veins," the old man's voice slowly rang out. "The Yangtze River, the Yellow River, and the Qinling Mountains originated from these. And the last one..."

He paused for a moment, as if considering his words.

"It comes from the Nuwa clan. Though broken, it still possesses the imperial lineage. It neither took physical form nor returned to the Zhou king. It simply vanished on its own."

The scene began to fade. The grass was fading, the snow on Kunlun Mountain was blurring, and the fragments on the Conferred God Platform were gradually disappearing. But the old man's voice did not vanish; instead, it grew clearer and clearer, as if each word was being etched into my mind. With each word, my temples throbbed, as if a drill was drilling into my brain.

"This vein is the root of the struggle for the dragon vein."

"When Jiang Ziya conferred the titles of gods, he intended to transfer the Emperor's fortune to the Zhou Dynasty. He believed that with the world unified, the Emperor's fortune should naturally remain concentrated and undiminished. However, he did not know that since the Emperor's creation, the principle of 'returning to oneness' had been against the will of Heaven. Fortune is like water; if blocked, it will collapse; if dredged, it will flow smoothly. With the death of the Emperor, the fortune dissipated. The tighter it was gathered, the more violently it would disperse. He wanted to receive that fortune for the King of Zhou, but he himself shattered it into four fragments, and no one could catch it anymore."

The old man sighed softly. This was his first and last sigh. The sigh, falling into my ears, was like a stone pressing down on the surface of water.

"Heaven and earth are indifferent. All things are born and die according to their own way. Forcibly gathering them together will only bring trouble."

I suddenly opened my eyes.

The torches were still burning. The Stele Forest was still there. My four brothers surrounded me. Crippled Feng held my shoulder, his tinderbox already pulled out, burning an inch in front of my brow, the sparks almost scalding my skin; Little Chicken was still clutching that lump of wet mud, which he had flattened, leaving a black stain on my sleeve; Three Jin was still lying in front of me, the blade of his shovel facing the darkness, his shoulders and back still taut; Baldy Liao's hand was still on Cui Dake's bundle, his bald head sweating profusely with anxiety.

"Master!" the little chick called out to me, its voice trembling with tears. "You were standing there for a moment and then suddenly stopped talking, your eyes were staring blankly, and I called you for ages without getting a response. What's wrong? Why is your face covered in tears?"

"I'm fine." I wiped my face, my hand was wet, and I realized I had cried in the illusion. I touched the jade pendant on my chest, and there was a wet drop on its surface... The tears I shed in the illusion had actually fallen on the jade pendant in reality. I took a deep breath, my body was still trembling slightly, and my temples were still throbbing, as if I had just been hit with a stick.

"What did you see?" Feng the Cripple put away his tinderbox and asked in a low voice, his cane still pointing at the monument, not yet put down.

I opened my mouth, wanting to speak, but I didn't know where to begin. The feud between the Yu tribe and the Nine Witches, Jiang Ziya's blindness and white hair, the direction in which the four streams of fortune scattered when the Human Emperor Sword exploded, and the old man in the robe embroidered with snake patterns... His voice was still echoing in my mind, like an unbreakable bell.

Who is he? Why is he showing me this? Doesn't he know how much of an impact these images will have on a tomb raider? He knows. So what exactly does he want?

These thoughts jumbled together, making my temples throb. But now was not the time to think about them deeply.

"Cui Dake didn't lie to us." I suppressed the turmoil in my heart and said to Feng the Cripple, "Behind the Stele Forest, there really is a statue of Nuwa."

Feng the Cripple wanted to ask more questions, but I waved my hand and took a few steps forward. Just as I took my first step, my peripheral vision caught sight of a small stele at my feet. The corners were worn smooth, but I could still make out a deeply engraved character for "King," the pattern of which was exactly the same as the one on my jade scroll. I didn't tell anyone, but simply tightened my grip on the jade scroll.