Chapter 64: Scales on the Back, Bonds of a Previous Life

After bidding farewell to the young attendant, Ji Ming gathered his belongings and set off toward the rivers north of the mountain, intending to seek out his golden-nosed brother. Once he settled on the riverbank, he took out three command flags. After a moment's thought, he placed them on his back. With a flicker of inspiration, a water carp spirit from one of the flags plunged into the river.

“Come, as the saying goes, an old horse knows the way. You, old carp, should know where the golden-nosed ape’s water dwelling lies.”

With these words, Ji Ming waded into the river, stepping on slippery, moss-covered stones beneath the surface, acclimating himself to the cold water. He then hunched down, lying atop the water carp’s spirit.

The water carp darted through the river, circling and occasionally surfacing to allow Ji Ming to breathe. After some time, Ji Ming sensed something amiss—it seemed the old carp did not know the way after all. He might have to take shelter in the Mountain of Perilous Birds and wait for the golden-nosed ape.

“Fellow Daoist, Wang Daoist, please wait!”

A weary, unfamiliar voice called out from behind. The manner of address startled Ji Ming, who hurriedly urged the carp spirit to flee.

“Daoist…”

The voice continued to call from behind.

Ji Ming glanced over his shoulder, spotting a giant turtle spirit the size of a millstone swimming laboriously after him.

“Are you Bi, the adjutant?”

Ji Ming halted the carp spirit and inquired.

He recalled the golden-nosed ape telling him about the water dwelling’s inhabitants: an adjutant, two river sentinels, and four squad leaders—various fish, shrimp, turtles, and crabs.

“That’s me, the old fellow!”

The turtle swam closer. “Wang Daoist—no, Water-cleaving Sentinel—I’ve been chasing after you for quite some time.”

Ji Ming felt a twinge of embarrassment. The turtle’s greeting had startled him, but he overlooked it and asked, “Did the golden-nosed ape send you to find me?”

“Indeed.” The turtle replied respectfully, “The River Lord instructed us to patrol the river, especially near the northern banks, and to bring you at once when we found you.”

The turtle spat out a bundle of grass, as if regurgitated from its stomach.

“This is a Wave-brushing Grass Ball. Swallow it, and you’ll be able to breathe underwater for a long time.”

Ji Ming reluctantly swallowed it, then guided the carp spirit to dive with the adjutant beneath the water, arriving before a deep, rocky cliff.

In the dimness below, the cliff only faintly revealed traces of carvings and chisel marks. Ji Ming found that, at the riverbed, his feet touched not mud but a thick layer of fine sand and gravel, with a path paved among the stones.

The path led to the cliff. Ji Ming followed it, and as he approached, he saw a staircase carved into the rock.

“Brother Wang!”

Ji Ming looked toward the voice. At the end of the stair was a hollowed-out rock shrine.

The golden-nosed ape squatted atop a stone lotus seat within the shrine, clad in a suit of black-scaled armor, his head adorned with a crane feather Daoist crown, and the Wave-splitting Blade at his waist—a formidable sight.

This black-scaled armor was favored in the former Great Xia dynasty, composed of a cuirass, skirt, and pauldrons, lined with leather and silk, and woven together with hemp cords. It was also known as scale-iron armor.

Yet the scales on his armor were not forged from iron, but from the thick, familiar fish scales of a certain species.

The crane feather Daoist crown was most notable for the spiritual black crane feather affixed at its peak, often worn by Daoists of Taiping Mountain during rites and when receiving Daoist titles.

Later, this crown spread among the common folk, who wore it to display their purity and longing for the Dao.

“What do you think?” The golden-nosed ape’s imposing demeanor quickly faded. He hurried down the stairs, circling Ji Ming, and asked again, “How does it compare to his?”

He meant the Crimson Lord.

The Crimson Lord wore a helmet with golden kui patterns; the golden-nosed ape opted for a crane feather crown. The Crimson Lord donned armor from the Tianzhou era; the ape chose Great Xia’s black-scaled armor.

Ji Ming was momentarily at a loss—such blatant rivalry!

“I’ve thought it over. All that talk of seeing mountains, seeing all beings, seeing oneself—it just doesn’t suit me. I must outshine him.”

Ji Ming preferred not to discuss the matter, so he shifted the conversation to the three young attendants, hoping the golden-nosed ape would help cover for them in the future.

“Rest assured. It’s a trivial matter.”

The ape readily agreed, then steered the conversation back to his armor.

“I started crafting this armor years ago. Each scale was taken from four-foot-long fish spirits with thick dorsal scales. I had to ask many brothers for help collecting them.”

“Wait!” Ji Ming recalled something. “I remember a pond beneath the slopes of Hengshan, with a huge fish. Is your armor from there?”

“You know him?”

“Not exactly. I just passed by there years ago,” Ji Ming replied.

The ape relaxed. “That pond holds some secrets—a spring of Yin Sha energy, where the shamaness of Shibai Fort raised a Five Immortals Net. I wasn’t interested in fighting over the spring, but I did release some fish fry into the pond.”

“I hoped the spring’s spiritual energy would nurture a few fish spirits for the armor. Every seven or eight years, I’d visit, collecting two fish spirits and their dorsal scales.”

Ji Ming gazed at the ape with a complicated expression—he never expected such ‘karmic ties’ between them.

“Is the Five Immortals Net still in the pond?”

The shamaness had already gone to the battlefield at Liling Temple, her fate uncertain, and her disciples were taking refuge on Bald Brush Peak. Surely the net was now ownerless.

“No.”

With that single word, the ape dashed Ji Ming’s hopes.

“After a severe drought years ago, the spring nearly dried up, almost draining the net’s spiritual essence. Since then, the shamaness dared not keep her artifact there. Whenever I pass by, the spring’s Yin Sha energy fluctuates.”

Ji Ming knew the reason—it was his own treasure absorbing the pond’s spiritual energy.

The ape glanced at Ji Ming, as if seeing through his thoughts. “Brother Wang, you wish to borrow the Yin Sha energy to nurture your bead.”

“The Yin Sha energy is regarded as baleful, impure spirit, unsuitable for those cultivating the pure Dao, yet ideal for refining a demonic yin treasure.”

Ji Ming was about to explain. “Though my bead is refined, I have yet to consecrate it. Do you know any spirits or deities who could lend me some spiritual power for its consecration?”

The ape let out a few bitter laughs, showing his difficulty.

Adjutant Bi, knowing his master’s pride and reluctance to refuse his brother’s request, feared he might force himself into a role he could not fill.

“Ahem…” Bi stretched out his turtle head from the sand and gravel, his voice resonating underwater. “Spirits and deities belong to the realm of the underworld, governed by the Earthly Court. Our River Lord’s authority lies only within the rivers; those he knows are mostly river spirits.”

The golden-nosed ape scratched his furry face, not refuting Bi’s words, making the atmosphere somewhat awkward.

Ji Ming was about to smooth things over to save the ape’s dignity when he saw the ape spit out a round, misty-gray crystal.

“This… it’s from the Great Monk…”

Ji Ming exclaimed in surprise.