Chapter Fifty-Three: The Interplay of Yin and Yang

Huanglong broke free from the confines of the divine egg.

He exhaled the breath of a true dragon, a stream of black and yellow hues resembling twin cascades of cloud, surging for three hundred miles. A dragon’s claw emerged, its scales like shifting strata of rock—solid, ancient, and imbued with the spiritual power of earth. Earth bears the changes of yin and yang, and thus the dragon claw was naturally stained with both. This claw, spanning three or four hundred miles, swept toward Xu Zhong. The force of it was enough to shatter the courage of any who witnessed it.

With a thunderous crash, Crown Prince Zhu Zhen, Ling Guang, Dun Xuan, and the others could not withstand the oppression; their spirits crumbled, their vision went black, and they collapsed where they stood. Xu Zhong, too, struggled to remain upright—he felt as if a mountain pressed upon him, his vision sparkling with stars, his legs trembling uncontrollably.

At that moment, a scale at Xu Zhong’s chest flew out of its own accord, transforming in front of him into a great serpent, pure as snow. Bai Zhaoju opened her eyes.

“What is this?” Bai Zhaoju was startled at the sight of Huanglong. She was but a split soul, parasitically attached to the scale, unaware of what Xu Zhong had experienced. “You’ve managed to stir up such trouble?” she sighed softly, extending a finger.

Divine light surged from her fingertip, coalescing into a vast river of time. This current swept across the dragon’s claw, infinite and torrential. With a deafening bang, the claw exploded, dissolving into two streams of light: the black returning to the heavens, the yellow falling to earth, transforming into crystalline jewels brimming with the aura of earth.

“Back where you belong!” Bai Zhaoju shouted, her voice ringing with fury. She stretched forth her hand, her five fingers like mountains, shrouded in swirling energies. Her palm descended, darkening the entire sky; those who looked up could see deep ravines etched into her palm.

Huanglong soared upward, fangs bared, whiskers flying. With each leap, his body grew tenfold, in a blink becoming a colossal yellow dragon three to four hundred feet in length, then suddenly transforming into a divine giant of equal height. One hand braced the massive palm above, his feet planted firmly on the ground. Yet, how could he be a match for Bai Zhaoju? Even a shred of a primordial deity’s soul was far beyond the reach of any external cultivator.

Huanglong struggled against Bai Zhaoju’s magic. The golden platform beneath him cracked and groaned, faint fissures appearing. Fierce winds erupted, the breath of Huanglong himself, and countless sparks arose, igniting into an inferno—the collision of Bai Zhaoju’s palm with the world itself.

Though unwilling to yield, Huanglong was no match for her. His form shrank, his power rapidly dissipating, until he was but three feet long, and then he was forced back into the divine egg. Having finished, Bai Zhaoju vanished without another word.

The scale fell, burning as it descended, blue smoke rising. By the time it landed in Xu Zhong’s hand, only a wisp of ashen fire remained.

Everyone was stunned into silence. From Huanglong’s awakening to his suppression, they had all been completely overpowered.

“To possess the split soul of a primordial deity—his background is far deeper than it appears,” Ling Guang murmured.

“I’ve never seen that deity before,” Crown Prince Zhu Zhen said, exchanging glances with Dun Xuan.

Xiezhi gave Xu Zhong a long look, then turned to the returning Baize. “Baize, over here!”

Baize, seeing Xiezhi, took human form, walking toward him atop a cloud of auspicious vapor.

“So it’s Fuzhang,” Baize greeted him with a smile. “What brings you to me?”

Baize had no name, for every member of the Baize divine clan bore the same. Heaven only knows how they distinguished each other.

“I’d like to borrow your Baize Scroll, to help this friend rid himself of inner demons,” Xiezhi gestured toward Xu Zhong.

Baize turned to Xu Zhong, who now saw him clearly: sword-shaped brows, star-bright eyes, rosy lips, white teeth, and two small horns partly hidden in his dark hair.

“Removal is impossible. It only needs to be suppressed.”

“Impossible?” Baize looked Xu Zhong up and down, his tone resolute.

“Then—removing the demon, is that possible?” Xu Zhong ventured.

“Also impossible,” Baize shook his head. “Your inner demon is not recorded in my Baize Scroll.”

Since ancient times, there have been fifteen hundred and twenty types of spiritual beings and wandering souls, all recorded in the Baize Scroll. Every Baize possesses such a scroll, able to reveal a creature’s past karma, future fate, and sometimes even dispel evil and exorcise demons through its power.

Baize’s response left even Xiezhi surprised. For a demon not to be catalogued in the Baize Scroll—what could it be?

“However, there is another way,” Baize said, pointing at the divine egg containing Huanglong. “Huanglong embodies the primordial transformation of heaven and earth, dwelling at the center, spreading in all directions. If you can draw upon its magic and refine it into your soul, you might preserve your own integrity, preventing your inner demon from devouring you.”

Of the five planets, earth is the closest to the concept of unity. Yin and yang are rooted in it, and the five elements revolve around it, giving rise to the cycle of creation and destruction. Should Xu Zhong truly refine his soul into the likeness of Huanglong, it would become immutable.

Xu Zhong’s heart stirred at the prospect. He followed Baize to the divine egg.

Huanglong, seeing Xu Zhong approach, was both startled and enraged, yet too wounded to regenerate. Xu Zhong sat cross-legged, attuning himself to the egg’s energies. Crown Prince Zhu Zhen and the others found places nearby, eager to observe Huanglong up close—a rare feat, and one Xu Zhong had now earned through his earlier actions.

Xu Zhong sat closest of all, near enough to feel Huanglong’s breath and the undulating power of earth. The dragon’s breath was twofold: black and yellow. The black, the color of the sky, ascended as green-blue vapor. The yellow sank downward, congealing at the earth. That which rose was pure, yang, and merged with the heavens; that which descended was turbid, yin, generating all things. This was the transformation of Wu and Ji Earth. The cycle reflected the endless turning of heaven and earth—hence the saying that when earth is depleted, all collapses.

“Earth is the matchmaker of heaven and earth, present in all things, the fountain of yin-yang transformation,” Xu Zhong realized, inspired by his proximity. He turned his vision inward, and in an instant, the five planets within him shifted. In the five palatial halls of his body, he sensed the current of Wu Earth.

“Wu Earth is yang, rising to the heavens as dew and rain, merging heaven and earth. Then, my body must also harbor the transformation of Ji Earth.”

“Ji Earth is yin, sinking to the ground, nurturing all creation.”

Xu Zhong sensed hidden mysteries within the human form. “I’ve been cultivating in error,” he realized with a shock. Or perhaps it was not his method, but the very world shaped by the Thunder Ancestor that was flawed.

“The five elements each have two aspects, corresponding to yin and yang: Jia Wood, Yi Wood, Bing Fire, Ding Fire, Wu Earth, Ji Earth, Geng Metal, Xin Metal, Ren Water, Gui Water.”

“Then, the five planets must also have two aspects. Where is the other?” Xu Zhong pondered, then suddenly, the veil was lifted from his mind. “The body is yang, the soul is yin—the missing aspect lies within the soul.”

Suddenly, the human soul in his mind stirred, and in it, the five planets manifested. All at once, the four planets within his human soul were revealed. The soul’s sensitivity surged—he could perceive the heavenly soul, the earthly soul, sense the seven spirits, even inhale and exhale spiritual light, transforming it into divine consciousness.

“The Thunder Ancestor is dead—one of his two aspects is missing. The soul is yin, but yin cannot exist alone; it must be merged with yang. The inner world is the Thunder Ancestor’s own, and its spiritual energy is his as well.”

“Have we never truly practiced cultivation?” Xu Zhong’s heart leapt with a terrifying thought. They had always cultivated the Thunder Ancestor’s energy.

“With every stage we advanced, we fed his yang aspect more and more. That’s why he remained powerful after the divine war.”

Just as the Black Mountain demon harvested his minions again and again, so too were Xu Zhong and the others but crops for the Thunder Ancestor.

“Are we all merely extensions of his yang aspect?” Xu Zhong felt his mind reel.

Again, he seemed to witness the scene of the ancient Yue Dao being devoured—not by heaven, but by the Thunder Ancestor himself.

The tremors in his mind grew ever stronger, mirroring his dread.

“So, the thing parasitizing my body is not heaven’s will, but the Thunder Ancestor.”

At that instant, his inner demon appeared, taking the form of Yi Xuanji.

“So you finally see it?” Yi Xuanji laughed. “Longdu, Guyue, Jiang Xuanyi—they were all hopelessly naïve, thinking they could break free by forging truth from falsehood and remaking the world.”

“That’s foolish. Utterly foolish.”

Yi Xuanji reached for Xu Zhong.

“Hold to unity, guard the center!”

Xu Zhong whispered the words. His soul opened its eyes, transforming into a yellow dragon, taking its seat in his mind.

“I have cultivated the yin aspect,” Xu Zhong told Yi Xuanji. “My soul’s unity is preserved. Unless you seize my body outright, you cannot take it from me.”

Yi Xuanji looked back. “There will always be an opportunity. Many, in fact. Don’t ever relax your guard—don’t let me find my chance.”

His form faded, not the inner demon itself, but its yin aspect—the Thunder Ancestor’s yin aspect.

Xu Zhong slowly opened his eyes and looked at Baize.

Baize remained tense but kept his composure.

“Well? Did you obtain the magic from Huanglong?” he asked.

Xu Zhong nodded.

“To hold to unity and guard the center.”

Baize breathed a sigh of relief. “You actually succeeded. My guidance was not wasted.”

“In truth, I saw at first glance your soul was missing its yin aspect. Now, you’ve restored it yourself.”

Worthy indeed was Baize, who understood the hearts of all beings and the mysteries of spirits and gods.

Xu Zhong inclined his head. “I owe it all to your advice, Baize. Otherwise, all my cultivation would have benefited another.”

“That’s your own cleverness,” Baize replied with a wave. “Now, I think my Baize Scroll will have a new entry. Would you help me, Xu Zhong?”

He produced a jade scroll—its top connected to the heavens, its bottom touching the underworld, containing infinite transformations.

Xu Zhong glanced at the others, still sitting nearby, absorbing the resonance of Huanglong for their own arts. He nodded, stepping toward Baize.

Baize unrolled the scroll to reveal the first painting: an image of the Black Mountain demon. Xu Zhong’s heart skipped, but he forced himself to look at the scroll, not at Baize. He realized it was referencing the Black Mountain demon’s mark upon him.

Baize turned to the last page, where a divine beast was depicted. He handed Xu Zhong a brush.

Xu Zhong took it and gazed at the image—a Black Tortoise.