Tome of Troubled Times

Chapter 726 (2): Jiuyou

Chaos. That was the thread they had been chasing—there had to be a god or demon who represented pure chaos, and now, they had a name.

The fact that Underworld Guide himself had been turned into a corpse puppet was incidental. The dead were fundamentally different from the living; there was nothing worth mourning.

The name Jiuyou was not unfamiliar to Zhao Changhe. It had appeared multiple times in the Four Idols Cult’s texts he had once been forced to copy—always as a footnote to the Night Emperor’s exploits. For instance, “Once, the Night Emperor defeated Jiuyou in the extreme north.[1]” But beyond vague references, there had been no detailed accounts. After all, the Four Idols Cult’s records were not comprehensive; if they were, Zhao Changhe would not have needed to seek a path to the Profound Control Realm through Xue Wu’s soul-searching.

“When the name surfaced in Kunlun, some thought Jiuyou was the Night Emperor,” Ye Wuzong continued. “Yet the Night Emperor might be ruthless and brutal but follows the rules. Jiuyou is the opposite, and if I’m not mistaken, is actually the Night Emperor’s nemesis.” Here, Ye Wuzong paused and glanced meaningfully at Sisi and Yue Hongling, a sly smile playing on his lips. “Oh, and by the way—she’s a woman[2].”

“Hah?” The entire family stared wide-eyed, Zhao Changhe included.

So far, all known gods and demons had been presented as male figures, except for Piaomiao, whose form was ethereal and non-human in the last era. Naturally, everyone had assumed Jiuyou was male as well. The sudden revelation that she was female caught them off guard.

The surprise was not due to any inherent issue—after all, nobody said gods and demons had to be male—but it still took a moment to adjust.

What truly set off a new train of thought was the question: could the Night Emperor also be a woman?

They had never considered it before, but now it seemed likely. Take Shuanghua, for instance, who was known as the Night Emperor’s personal guard. Not a “maid,” but a “guard.” It was not common for a personal guard to be female, and it was even more unusual for the Night Emperor to have no qualms about her developing a relationship with the scoundrel Azure Dragon. If the Night Emperor were male, such arrangements made little sense. The most plausible explanation was that the Night Emperor was female. Only a woman would specifically select female guards and take no issue with matchmaking among her subordinates, even finding joy in such frivolities.

Considering the yin-yang correspondence of day and night, it also made sense. Night symbolized yin, aligning naturally with femininity.

And as for Jiuyou, her attributes might not only pit her against the Night Emperor but also make her a rival to Piaomiao. If the enemy of an enemy is a friend, then it made a lot of sense for the Night Emperor and Piaomiao to be allies.

Ye Wuzong broke the silence. “It’s clear that Jiuyou and this so-called Dao Lord aren’t aligned. And who knows if there’s a third party in play? Kunlun is a vortex right now. Anyone who ventures in risks being swallowed whole.”

Zhao Changhe mused silently: At least one third party exists—Papiyas. But it’s unclear if they’re truly independent or tied to one of the others. The situation in Kunlun is indeed a tangled mess.

Ye Wuzong shifted gears abruptly. “You seem awfully interested in Kunlun. Is it because you think dealing with the northern barbarians requires first securing the Western Regions?”

Zhao Changhe snapped out of his thoughts and nodded. “The Li Clan has deep ties to that area. I simply do not believe they’ve had no involvement in Kunlun.”

“I think Kunlun is too much of a mess. You should leave it for later,” Ye Wuzong said. “The Li Clan is just a mortal clan. How deep could their connections to these gods and demons go? At most, they’re middlemen, proxies in the mundane world. Besides, their outward allegiance is to Tngri, not the entities in Kunlun.”

“And you think Tngri has no ties to Kunlun?”

“None. If Tngri does have any ties, it would be with one you might not expect... the Spirit Tribe,” Ye Wuzong said, his expression turning serious. “Do you not feel that there is something unusual about the Spirit Tribe’s secret realm? It’s very likely not a fragment of the ancient heavenly realm and isn’t connected to other pieces.”

Zhao Changhe was impressed. This was a hypothesis he had painstakingly pieced together by cross-referencing the Atlas of Mountains and Rivers left by the ancient Black Tortoise. Yet, Ye Wuzong had deduced it simply by being in the realm itself.

Sisi was visibly alarmed and asked, “Why would you say such a thing, Master?”

Zhao Changhe explained, “Underworld Guide’s final actions weren’t about resurrecting some ancient powerhouse of the Spirit Tribe. What he aimed to revive was this realm itself. The Spirit Tribe’s secret realm is an independent world. It isn’t just your home—it’s your true ancestor and progenitor. Yup, you heard that right. This realm itself is your true ancestor, and it was probably suppressed and killed by the Heavenly Dao, resulting in its transformation into a separate realm. The divine axe might not actually belong to Tngri. It could be yours... Perhaps it was originally an artifact of your ancestor, a weapon of this realm. Tngri likely acquired the axe later and used it to ascend to godhood. Your tribe’s elders, who claim the axe is linked to the Spirit Tribe, might not just be coveting treasure. I think it’s possible they could genuinely sense a connection.”

Sisi shot to her feet, pacing back and forth with a furrowed brow.

She had harbored suspicions ever since Zhao Changhe’s earlier remarks. If this realm had evolved into an independent world, that was one thing; many cultures had similar myths about their origins. But if this realm could actually revive itself, that was a far greater threat. Imagine the earth itself rising like a titan—who could comprehend the devastation? If the Spirit Tribe was unprepared, the moment their “ancestor” reawakened, every living being in the realm would perish.

Her earlier decision to seek opportunities outside the Spirit Tribe now felt even more justified. From now on, the Spirit Tribe had to gradually migrate outward. The secret realm could remain as a strategic base—a kind of ancestral home—but it could no longer be their primary residence. Fortunately, the current state of Miaojiang made such a transition feasible, as if everything had been set up for this moment.

Meanwhile, Zhao Changhe was thinking about the peculiar nature of the Spirit Tribe’s gu arts. They operated with an almost causal or karmic force, transcending conventional understanding of human physiology. These techniques seemed to follow an entirely different set of laws—parallel to the Heavenly Dao, only slightly weaker.

Then there was the ancient saying he had read in the Spirit Tribe’s texts: “Vermillion Bird and White Tiger converge in the southwestern wilderness.” This phrase likely had direct implications for the revival of this realm. Whenever that moment came, it seemed inevitable.

Relocating the Spirit Tribe was not an insurmountable challenge given Sisi’s authority and influence. The true difficulty lay in the catastrophic consequences of an entity akin to a creation god coming back to life. If such a force were to rise and literally stomp its way into the divine land, there would be no one capable of stopping it.

What in the world were Jiuyou and Underworld Guide thinking? Why were they trying to revive something so apocalyptic? Were they not afraid of being killed themselves?

Are they truly mad for chaos, or do they actually have the confidence to control such an existence?

Ye Wuzong interrupted Zhao Changhe’s thoughts, saying, “If that’s the case, you must gain control of this axe. It’s bound to be a critical key in the future.”

“When I wielded the axe earlier, I didn’t sense an axe spirit within it,” Zhao Changhe replied. “Do you have any thoughts on this?”

“It has a spirit, but it’s not like the sword spirits we’re familiar with. Its spirit has scattered yet isn’t entirely dead—it’s in a state of half-existence,” Ye Wuzong explained. “No one can force it to accept a master. Attempting to do so will only result in severe backlash, as I experienced. That’s why Bo’e wasn’t truly its master. In fact, to put it bluntly, Bo’e was just the arm that wielded it; nothing more than an accessory.”

Zhao Changhe nodded. Truthfully, when he had swung the axe, he had felt like an accessory to it as well.

Ye Wuzong continued, “Since you have an affinity for lightning, you can work with the axe, helping it manifest its full potential. In turn, it may treat you as a partner, allowing you to wield it, to gain insights into the nature of lightning, and so on...”

The explanation felt oddly familiar, and Zhao Changhe realized why when he heard a voice of disdain echoing from his ring.

“Who is this small fry, trying to copy me?” Dragon Bird sneered.

The massive axe in the ring rose, its shadowy handle far thicker than Dragon Bird’s blade. Dragon Bird immediately went silent.

Unaware of the drama playing out in Zhao Changhe’s ring, Ye Wuzong pressed on, “To truly gain its recognition, you may need to complete certain steps. From what I’ve gathered, the Tngri Sacred Mountain likely has a related altar or something connected to it.”

Sisi asked. “Where is this Tngri Sacred Mountain?”

Yue Hongling answered, “I asked about it while in the north. It’s located in the Mobei, at a mountain known as Langjuxu, home to the Tngri Temple.”

Both women turned to Zhao Changhe, their gazes expectant.

Despite the geographic disparity—one connection leading to the southwest, the other to the northeast—it was clear that uncovering these mysteries would ultimately tie back to Zhao Changhe’s central objective.

To water his horse in Hanhai, to seal Langjuxu. Westward, the Yellow River brought into the empire’s domain; counties and prefectures established around Qilian.[3]

Ye Wuzong, visibly fatigued, sighed softly. “That’s all I know... Now, while I still have some strength, let me teach you all a few things.”

Sisi bit her lip and hesitated before saying, “Master, you should rest first...”

“No need,” Ye Wuzong said lazily. “If you can manage Miaojiang well enough that I can sleep soundly by the shores of Erhai, that will be the greatest act of filial piety.”

Sisi remained silent.

Ye Wuzong turned to Zhao Changhe. “My techniques were never really suited to you. When I taught you the Crane Controlling Art, it was because it was the only skill of mine you could use. But then I realized you’ve picked up parts of my movement art. How the hell did you learn that? I doubt Sisi taught you—some of the core principles you’re using were beyond her back then.”

Zhao Changhe wiped the sweat from his brow. I learned it through the Heavenly Tome. How am I supposed to explain that to you?

But Ye Wuzong did not press the matter. “Since we’ve all been exploring how to break through to the Profound Control Realm, we know that martial arts are just expressions of fundamental truths. If my skills work for you, it’s no surprise. Now that the three of you have all called me Master, I’ll share those fundamentals with you. How much you can grasp will depend on yourselves.”

Yue Hongling, who had been considering making a polite exit, stopped in her tracks, surprised. “I can learn too?”

“Of course you can,” Ye Wuzong said, rolling his eyes. “Do you think if I didn’t teach you, these two little bastards wouldn’t put their knowledge together to teach you later? Who are you trying to fool?”

Zhao Changhe and Sisi both lowered their heads, staying silent.

Yue Hongling hesitated for a long moment before finally asking, “What are we learning?”

“Control over the wind,” Ye Wuzong said softly. “You’ve encountered a certain demon god called Hidden Wind, right? If you encounter him again, I hope you’ll let him know that not all wind is the same... Take it as an old man’s final wish, hehe.”

1. If you’re wondering, this is the first mention of Jiuyou in this entire novel, so you’re not misremembering. This is the first mention of this passage. ☜

2. The pronoun “she” is actually used several times here, but “he,” “she,” and “it” are perfect homonyms in spoken Mandarin. It’s impossible to know which is which with no context, hence Ye Wuzong’s explanation. In order to reproduce the confusion, we did not use a pronoun until now. ☜

3. This is similar to the verse in Chapter 688. But in this one, Hanhai refers to Lake Baikal, Langjuxu to the Khentii Mountains, and Qilian to the Qilian Mountains. ☜