Chapter 75: Fang Ridge, Cave of the Earth Jackals

Jin Yi Ape was immensely pleased; he had never expected that a casual strike would yield such news—truly a fortunate mistake.
“Brother, the longer we wait, the more unpredictable things become. Let us set out at once.”
“Wait!” Ji Ming stopped Jin Yi Ape, hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Brother Jin Yi, how much stronger are you than that Armor Mist Snake?”
“Far stronger, of course.”
Fearing Ji Ming’s doubt, Jin Yi Ape explained, “Not to mention my Coral Sakura Ring, but even my Wave-Splitting Blade alone surpasses anything that demon serpent can bring to bear.”
Ji Ming listened with half-hearted belief. The mere fact that the Armor Mist Snake had secretly allied itself with Four Sorrows Cloud Temple spoke volumes about its cunning and vision—far beyond that of ordinary mountain spirits and monsters.
To say the Armor Mist Snake had no cards up its sleeve—Ji Ming would never believe it, not for a moment.
“How do you fare against the Daoist of the True Nation?”
This second question made Jin Yi Ape pause and reflect. “Brother, are you worried that we’re outmatched, that we won’t succeed in seizing the Heavenly Child?”
“That’s not it.” Ji Ming’s face was clouded with concern. “If it were before, I’d still hold out hope, but after all that’s happened, after glimpsing the means of Four Sorrows Cloud Temple, do you still have the confidence you once did?”
A person’s worth lies in self-awareness—they must weigh their position and power in any affair. To overestimate oneself is to invite disaster, with consequences impossible to foresee.
From the Third Peak, through the Shadowed Soils of Danger Bird Mountain, Ji Ming had struggled to keep pace (investing heart and soul in the Consecration of the Heart-Pearl), but as more and more people became entangled, he felt increasingly powerless.
Now was the time for self-examination—to consider whether, unwittingly, he had already walked into the heart of the storm, to the very edge of the precipice.
This was not to shrink back, but to protect himself and remain clear-headed.
“Well then...”
Jin Yi Ape pondered for a moment, unable to quell his unwillingness. “Let us call over Wen Daoyu from Crane Watch. Even if the Fiery Duke gets involved, so be it. As long as those villainous monks from Four Sorrows Cloud Temple are thwarted.”
“Bringing Wen Daoyu is enough. At this point, if he truly wishes to seize the Heavenly Child, he’ll need to fetch reinforcements from Crane Watch himself. As for the Fiery Duke, that strange heir of a side sect—his ways are unpredictable. For now, best not to involve him.”
“Agreed!”
After settling their plans, they put them into action.
Once Wen Daoyu was discreetly notified, Jin Yi Ape and Ji Ming boarded the Shell Carriage and traveled southward along the waterways, following the main course of the Southern Pan River into the river systems of Li Ridge.
Thanks to the Shell Carriage of the River Lord, the local demons and monsters along the water gave them due respect and made no attempt to hinder their passage.
All along the journey, Jin Yi Ape and Ji Ming feasted and drank within the carriage, occasionally catching fresh fish, scooping up a venomous snake, and enjoying a few impromptu meals to liven up the long and tedious trip.

Jin Yi Ape was especially fond of eating snakes, as if venting his anger at the Armor Mist Snake on those unfortunate enough to cross his path—tearing off their skins with a flourish and swallowing them in a single gulp.
Truth be told, the waterways of the ridge were so tangled that even Jin Yi Ape lost his bearings, especially as they traveled deeper and farther from the heartlands.
Here, the local spirits followed nothing but their own savage natures, completely devoid of humanity. Their minds held nothing but territorial instincts; they had no regard for the River Lord’s Shell Carriage.
Within this wild and primeval ridge, Jin Yi Ape had to restrain himself, spending entire days cooped up in the carriage with Ji Ming, never even stopping for a break.
Inside, the once brilliantly radiant pearl of the Shell Carriage had faded considerably—a sign that the carriage was thoroughly exhausted—while Ji Ming lay motionless upon the soft tongue of the shell.
“Brother, are you feeling stifled in here?” Jin Yi Ape’s bloodshot eyes were filled with concern.
“It’s nothing, just weary.”
Ji Ming was in poor shape; anyone would be, losing their essence twice a day as he had. If he were any older, he’d be even worse off.
“Brother Jin Yi, if something should happen to us on this journey, could you...”
“Nonsense!” Jin Yi Ape sat cross-legged upon the tongue, his face grave as never before. He immediately halted the carriage and declared, “We’re turning back.”
As he spoke, his eyes reddened. “Let’s return to our water home and live in peace. What is the Heavenly Child compared to my own brother?”
Ji Ming was deeply moved, but now was not the time to abandon their quest.
After a moment’s thought, he replied righteously, “The Heavenly Child faces a deadly calamity before even being born, a victim of villainous schemes. Is it not the duty of the chivalrous to stand up for what is right?
We forged our bond in pursuit of this very justice—shall we now betray our cause for the sake of personal ties? How would we be any different from those knaves of Four Sorrows Cloud Temple?”
At these words, Jin Yi Ape was filled with shame. He recalled his original resolve: it was outrage at the Temple’s conduct that had moved him to rescue the incarnating Heavenly Child.
Yet as the journey wore on, his centipede brother had come to mean more to him than the Heavenly Child. Now, so close to Six-Tusk Mountain, and with his brother entrusting him as if at death’s door, he could not help but be anxious and torn.
In his heart, Jin Yi Ape swore a silent oath: once in Six-Tusk Mountain, he would make certain his brother was safe, fulfilling his bond of friendship.
After this episode, Ji Ming dared say nothing more.
He had only wished, in the event of his own death and reincarnation, that Jin Yi Ape would safeguard his possessions and one day pass them to the Heavenly Child, thus establishing a bond with the next incarnation as well.
Every bond in this life is worth accumulating.
If the Heavenly Child inherited Ji Ming’s trust, Jin Yi Ape would surely look after him all the more—“love me, love my kin,” as the saying goes.
As for Jin Yi Ape coveting his belongings, Ji Ming had no such fear; what he entrusted was nothing the ape would care for.

Among the rivers of the northern ridge, the Shell Carriage drifted for many days more. While Ji Ming slept, it finally came to rest atop a bed of river mud.
“We’ve arrived?”
Ji Ming emerged from the shell.
Jin Yi Ape raised a wave to lift them both and replied with certainty, “We’re here—this is Six-Tusk Mountain, deep within the northern ranges of Li Ridge.”
Ji Ming looked out and saw the towering, interlocking mountains, set like chess pieces upon a board, rising and falling in their majesty. Their peaks reached up into ever-shifting, colorful mists, obscuring the view.
Jin Yi Ape advised, “The mists gather and scatter in cycles. Let’s wait a while.”
They knew nothing of the situation within the mountains, especially regarding the Daoist of the True Nation and the Armor Mist Snake. To charge in blindly now would be folly.
Ji Ming agreed, “Li Ridge is a wild and untamed land, lying beyond the Thirty-Six Realms—truly a place ignored by both earthly and heavenly authorities. We must tread carefully.”
As evening fell and the temperature dropped, the mists receded, and among the clustered peaks, six crescent-shaped mountains emerged, as if carved from the earth itself.
“I’ll go scout ahead.”
Ji Ming shrank down and quickly soared upward, heading straight for those six towering peaks.
He remembered: when the Treasure Eye had revealed the [Transform] character, he had seen, through it, the cave where the expectant Daoist nun awaited.
There was no mistake—it was here.
He drew near one of the peaks, braving the biting mountain winds. Bathed in the radiant sunset upon the jagged heights, he descended toward a perilous summit.
“That’s it!” Ji Ming gazed at the cave upon the mountain, his heart pounding with excitement. “It’s exactly as I saw it before.”
He was just about to enter when he saw an iron plaque hanging above the cave, inscribed with ancient characters:
“Southern Matron Divine Mountain, Red Stone Stockade, Jackal’s Den.”
This iron plaque, weathered by the elements, had blended into the surrounding rock and was half-hidden by old vines—easy to miss without careful attention.
Yet above the plaque, a bronze mirror was mounted, gleaming so sharply it made Ji Ming uneasy.
“Who’s out there?”
A hoarse voice called from within the cave.