Leng probably didn’t know that, while a Dead Face had invaded his home and was now passed out in front of him so that he had to take care of him, Cloud’s family had already found out everything they could about him. Everything that could be collected was found. They learned everything that had happened to him, some of which Leng had forgotten. It was as if the investigators were trained by a spy agency.

    Although, even if Leng had known what was happening, he couldn’t do anything anyway. He was very busy at the moment, as this strange Dead Face was on his bed. And Leng had had to carry him there.

    None of this mattered as much as what Leng should do with this Dead Face. He couldn’t let his landlord know, or find a doctor, or go to the police—they’d think he was involved in the mafia or something. Plus, the way this Dead Face had introduced himself made Leng think no one should know he was here.

    And the Dead Face refused to wake up.

    Crickets chirped outside the window, mixed with the noise of some other insects. Inside the window, all was quiet as the fan rotated left and right. Leng sat on the sofa, his hands propping up his chin, lost in thought.

    A deep pool of calm.

    His thoughts drifted far away, as if they were caught in an abyss. A powerful force pulled Leng’s soul. By the time he came to, he was already in another realm. Leng couldn’t enjoy his life in the few days after the college-entrance exams, and he was used to it, so he was not panicking as he realized he had come to a dark and mysterious place.

    Even if he panicked, there was no way out.

    Leng looked around the same way he had examined Cloud’s home earlier. The space seemed virtual but also real. It was different from last time as he was pulled inside and didn’t stumble in. He felt uncomfortable, like he was car-sick. He had to stand still for a while before he recovered.

    Suddenly a stream of light came in as a stone door opened, and it was a stone door; it was heavy and made a noise he seemed to have heard before.

    Leng turned around to see a tall woman dressed all in red. Red hair, red eyeshadow, red lipstick, a red and tight dress, and red heels. She was dressed like a flame. This was the second flame-like woman Leng had seen, thinking of the way Cloud had looked. But Cloud was more gentle than this woman; her hand-fire was pale gold and not blood-red.

    The woman stared at Leng in a stern way, walking toward him. Leng froze until the woman passed through his body. He looked at her and then himself, wondering what happened.

    He looked around again, realizing this world wasn’t empty. Twelve tall beams stood around him, each inscribed with strange animal patterns. In front of the woman was a young woman with white hair. Kneeling on the ground, her hands and feet were bound by chains, which were connected to the beams. She had a young face.

    She was obviously kidnapped and being abused!

    Leng wanted to help her, but before he took a step, a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned, only to see that Dead Face again.

    “It’s no use,” the Dead Face told Leng. The face was still pale, and he spoke without much life.

    Leng was scared, but the Dead Face did look on the verge of dying. He backed up a step, holding up the Dead Face, asking, ”Are you okay? What is going on here?”

    The Dead Face stopped exerting himself and leaned on Leng. “Zhongyan, the daughter of Zhu Rong. Baize, the god of prophecy.” He sounded as if he had no energy to talk, and his face looked even worse. Leng let him stay silent, guessing that the Dead Face had pulled him into some realm in order to see this.

    The woman in red was probably Zhongyan. The young woman in chains was likely Baize. Leng also saw more than other people. The young woman had another layer of image over her, which was a white-scaled beast with two horns, tiger-like limbs, and a pair of wings that looked a bit like a unicorn’s.

    Leng looked over as Zhongyan kneeled, using one hand to clutch Baize’s chin, forcing her to look at her. “Tell me where he is.” Her cold tone was very different from her fiery exterior. Leng was afraid the woman would crush Baize’s chin any second.

    Baize’s eyes looked dim, having lived in the dark for too long. She also seemed weak from being enchained. Baize raised her hands, shaking her chains; when Zhongyan waved, the chains disappeared. Zhongyan said, “Why are you telling me where he is now? You wouldn’t before.”

    Baize hesitated. “There’s no point in hiding it anymore. It’s fated. I can’t stop you anymore.” Her voice was bitter, and there was something else, too.

    Without the chains on her, Baize’s hands waved in the air. Soon, a streak of silver light froze along her hand motions. Leng stared at the symbols, which he didn’t recognize, but he somehow knew the words.

    “Changes and cycles. Harmony in relationships. Change is inevitable. Peak brings demise. Family first. Almost achieved. Everything outside is empty. Work toward change.” Leng didn’t understand what this meant as he watched Baize draw more symbols. After a moment, a map of constellations appeared overhead, with each of the stars moving.

    His head hurt.

    Baize’s eyes closed as if she had lost her energy. Her hands dropped like there was no gravity. Her feet left the ground, almost as if she was flying toward the map of stars, but the chains still on her feet kept her down.

    “There is a way back among the clouds. The new mountain snow adds glamour to the night.” This was said in an ancient language which Leng shouldn’t know, and he knew he didn’t understand it, but his brain somehow translated the words as if it was a machine, and in the form of a poem, too. It was too bizarre.

    Yunshan City (City of Clouds). Summer snow. Since he understood these keywords, Leng knew he was in danger. He was Zhongyan’s target, but why? He’d never seen this woman in his life.

    After Baize made her prediction, the light dimmed. She fell from the air, having lost all support. Seeing this, Zhongyan raised her left hand to prop up Baize. As Baize fell to the ground, the chains reappearing on her hands.

    Leng was enraged; the young woman was still being hurt after the revelation.

    Baize’s face was expressionless. She seemed to be used to this kind of treatment.

    Having received the desired information, Zhongyan quickly turned to leave, with one comment for Baize. “Remember, you’re the last Baize, and the last god of prophecy. Don’t doom yourself.”

    How could she end herself, with her hands and feet bound? Would she have to bite off her tongue? But she was a heavenly beast, so would that even work? Leng couldn’t help rolling his eyes. He dragged Dead Face to Baize, crouched down, and sighed. He didn’t even know where he was, so he couldn’t touch anything and save her.

    “You’re here,” Baize whispered.

    Leng was startled. Was she talking to him? A moment later, he knew she wasn’t. It was another Dead Face who stood not too far away. Muyi Xiu looked different now, not weak, and quite strong, actually. But his face still looked dead.

    “This Heavenly Realm was very hard to get inside. If Little You didn’t insist, I’d not have bothered,” said Muyi Xiu. He didn’t seem sympathetic to Baize, nor was he ready to save her. He just stood there, looking down at her.

    Baize had just finished prophesying for Zhongyan and was still weak, yet she managed a smile. “Little You is hard to please. She’s spoiled being Gongyang Hanze’s daughter.”

    “Now that I’m here, what do you want me to do? You don’t want me to save you. So what should I do?” Muyi’s words made Leng realize he was mistaken; Dead Face did want to save Baize, but was turned down.

    “Take this and find a young man in Yunshan City.” Baize slowly raised her hand toward Muyi, holding a string of bright stones, which would be hard to see unless one paid attention.

    Muyi’s expression changed as he saw the stones. “What do you want?”