Chapter 83: When the Three Eyes Open
Dawn brought no light.
A pale, sickly glow spread across the Western Region, illuminating the mountains without warming them. The sun remained hidden behind a veil of thin clouds, and the shadows beneath the trees seemed darker than they should have been.
Han Feng walked alone along an ancient mountain trail.
His left forearm still ached where Guo Shun's corpse-refinement chain had wrapped around it. The injury was not severe, but the cold energy left behind had been stubborn. Even after circulating his primordial essence several times, he could still feel a faint numbness beneath his skin.
He disliked lingering injuries.
They were reminders that a battle could end long before its consequences did.
He stopped beside a dry tree and examined the surrounding terrain.
No movement.
No footsteps.
No obvious spiritual fluctuations.
Only the wind passing through the branches.
Han Feng continued forward.
The confrontation with the Celestial Corpse Sect had confirmed something he had already suspected. The strange disturbances surrounding the Lake of Ashes were no longer isolated incidents. Powerful factions had begun investigating them, and at least one group had traced an unusual signal to his location.
Worse, Guo Shun had recognized that the energy involved did not resemble ordinary Gu essence.
That meant the secret surrounding the purple-black crystal was becoming increasingly difficult to conceal.
Han Feng touched his storage ring.
The crystal remained inside its sealed container.
He had not opened it since escaping the valley.
Nor had he attempted to examine the red trace that had appeared after the temple collapsed.
For now, he preferred an unknown treasure to an uncontrolled disaster.
His gaze moved toward the distant horizon.
The world was changing.
But he still didn't know why.
The first disturbance appeared shortly before noon.
Han Feng was crossing a narrow ridge when the wind suddenly stopped.
Not weakened.
Stopped.
The leaves hanging from the surrounding branches remained suspended in the air. A small cloud of dust froze above the trail, each particle motionless.
Han Feng stopped immediately.
His instincts screamed at him to move, but he resisted the impulse.
He released a thread of spiritual sense.
Nothing.
For a brief instant, he could not detect the surrounding spiritual energy at all.
It was as though the world had been emptied.
Then the pressure returned.
The dust fell.
The leaves began to move.
Wind rushed through the ridge with enough force to scatter several loose stones down the slope.
Han Feng stepped backward and steadied himself against the rock.
His chest felt tight.
The Celestial Diagram had reacted.
Not violently, as it had near the metallic gate, but with a strange, uneven pulse. The seventh point flickered twice before returning to its previous state.
He waited until his breathing stabilized.
An interruption in the local spiritual flow.
That was the simplest explanation.
But it didn't explain why the interruption had affected his spiritual sense so completely.
Nor why it had lasted almost exactly the same amount of time as the disturbances he had heard about near Baihua City.
Han Feng crouched and placed his palm against the stone.
The rock felt ordinary.
No residual formation.
No obvious spatial distortion.
Nothing he could use to identify the cause.
He withdrew his hand.
"Another anomaly."
He spoke quietly, as if saying the words aloud might help organize his thoughts.
It didn't.
He stood and resumed his journey, but he altered his route to avoid the open ridges.
If the disturbances were becoming more frequent, exposed terrain would be a liability.
He would rather move slowly through the mountains than discover what happened when one of those invisible interruptions occurred during a battle.
By late afternoon, the clouds began to rotate.
At first, the movement was almost imperceptible. A few pale strands of cloud curved around an empty patch of sky.
Then the pattern widened.
A vast spiral formed above the distant mountains.
No thunder accompanied it.
No lightning.
Yet a heavy pressure descended across the landscape.
Han Feng stopped beneath an outcropping of stone.
The surrounding Qi began to fluctuate.
One moment, the air felt almost empty. The next, primordial essence gathered so densely that the skin on his arms prickled.
He did not attempt to absorb it.
The energy was unstable, and its source was unclear.
Instead, he watched the currents.
They moved like invisible rivers, converging toward points that did not appear to exist in physical space.
Han Feng slowly expanded his spiritual sense.
The pressure increased.
A faint vibration passed through the golden seal beneath his chest.
He immediately withdrew his perception.
The sensation faded.
His expression hardened.
The seal was reacting to the same phenomenon.
That did not mean the seal caused it.
It might simply have been designed to respond to changes in the boundaries between different forms of energy.
The distinction was important.
If he assumed that every reaction came from the seal, he might overlook the actual cause.
Han Feng had survived this long by refusing to confuse a clue with an answer.
He looked toward the sky.
The red star was visible through the thinning clouds.
Its light seemed deeper than before, like a wound that had failed to close.
The purple star remained farther away, surrounded by a faint haze.
Between them, a third light flickered.
Gold.
It appeared for a few seconds, disappeared, then returned in a slightly different position.
Han Feng narrowed his eyes.
Three lights.
Three points of unusual activity.
He remembered the prophetic scroll he had purchased in Baihua City.
When the three Eyes open, the veil will fall.
The words had seemed like little more than a cryptic warning at the time.
Now they were becoming difficult to ignore.
Still, he refused to assume that the three stars were the three Eyes described in the prophecy.
The similarities were suggestive, not conclusive.
The prophecy might refer to three entities, three formations, or something that had not yet appeared.
He had no intention of assigning meaning to the lights simply because the number matched.
Han Feng lowered his gaze.
"Whatever you are, I won't let you decide my next move."
The wind returned.
The spiral of clouds slowly dispersed.
But the three lights remained visible until the sun disappeared.
Han Feng reached Shuanghe shortly before dusk.
The town was small, built around a river crossing at the foot of an old mountain range. It possessed no famous sect, no major spiritual vein, and no renowned cultivation academy.
Its importance came from its location.
Merchants passed through on their way toward the Central Region. Independent cultivators stopped to purchase supplies. Adventurers came searching for ancient ruins rumored to lie beneath the surrounding mountains.
Information changed hands quickly in Shuanghe.
Sometimes for money.
Sometimes for favors.
Sometimes because frightened people needed someone else to share their fears.
Han Feng had chosen the town for precisely that reason.
He approached the outer gate with his aura suppressed and his appearance altered by the Soul Chameleon Gu.
The guards looked exhausted.
One was arguing with a merchant over a damaged cart. Another repeatedly glanced toward the sky.
Han Feng passed them without difficulty.
Inside, the town was far more crowded than he expected.
Several wagons blocked the main street. Merchants hurried to secure their goods, while cultivators gathered in small groups beneath the eaves of shops.
A few had already begun leaving.
Others appeared determined to remain, perhaps believing that a town with no significant spiritual resources would be overlooked by whatever was happening.
Han Feng understood their reasoning.
He did not share their confidence.
A disaster did not need to target a place deliberately to destroy it.
He entered a tavern near the market and chose a seat with a clear view of the entrance.
He ordered a cup of water.
Then he listened.
"The northern patrol still hasn't returned," a man said.
His companion lowered his voice.
"Which patrol?"
"The one sent toward the Three Echoes Mountain."
Han Feng's fingers paused around the cup.
He did not turn toward the speakers.
The Three Echoes Mountain.
The metallic gate.
He had already seen what lay beyond it.
But the fact that other people were investigating the same location meant the rumors had spread farther than he had expected.
"How many went?" the companion asked.
"Six. All of them were at least Rank 3."
"And?"
"Nothing."
The first man leaned closer.
"Another group went yesterday. They found the entrance, but the inscriptions changed when they approached."
"Changed how?"
"Nobody knows. One of them said the symbols moved. Another claimed the gate was breathing."
His companion gave him a skeptical look.
"That sounds like an illusion."
"Perhaps. But the group returned without their formation specialist."
"Dead?"
The man shook his head.
"Missing."
A heavy silence settled over their table.
Han Feng continued drinking.
The story could have been exaggerated. The inscriptions on the gate had already lost much of their light when he left, and he had not returned to check their current state.
Perhaps the disturbance had awakened another part of the structure.
Perhaps the explorers had simply encountered a dangerous formation.
But if the gate was attracting cultivators, it would only be a matter of time before a major faction took control of the surrounding region.
Han Feng needed to know how quickly that was happening.
He shifted his attention toward another table.
Two merchants were discussing the spiritual springs near Shuanghe.
"...the water has become cloudy."
"That's impossible. The spring has supplied the town for a hundred years."
"Then explain why the Gu living around it have started dying."
"Could someone have poisoned it?"
"With what? The local physicians found no trace of ordinary toxins."
One merchant rubbed his face.
"My brother went to inspect the source this morning. He said the water reflected a sky full of stars even though the sun was still above the horizon."
Han Feng's expression did not change.
But he remembered the stream he had encountered earlier.
The water had briefly reflected something other than his face.
He still could not determine whether that experience had been an illusion or a resonance with a distant phenomenon.
Now there was another report.
Two incidents did not establish a connection.
But they justified further investigation.
He finished his water and stood.
There was no reason to remain in the tavern longer than necessary.
The old merchant's stall stood at the end of a narrow street.
Maps, broken jade tablets, damaged scrolls, and old pieces of metal covered a wooden table. Most were probably worthless. A few might contain useful information.
The merchant himself was thin and gray-haired, with a pair of sharp eyes that missed very little.
He looked Han Feng up and down.
"Looking for a map?"
"Information."
"Information costs more."
"Then tell me something worth paying for."
The old man's eyes narrowed.
Han Feng placed several primitive stones on the table.
"I want to know what has happened in the northern mountains."
The merchant did not touch the stones.
"Which part?"
"The Three Echoes Mountain."
That name changed his expression.
For a moment, the old man looked toward the street behind Han Feng.
Then he lowered his voice.
"That place has attracted too many people already."
"Who?"
"Independent cultivators first. Then small clans. Now there are people asking questions on behalf of larger organizations."
"Which organizations?"
The merchant shook his head.
"I sell maps. I don't collect enemies."
Han Feng added another primitive stone to the table.
The old man glanced at it.
"You're persistent."
"I'm paying for information, not a story."
The merchant sighed and took a crumpled scroll from beneath the table.
He spread it open.
A rough map of the surrounding mountains appeared. Several locations had been marked in charcoal, including a narrow trail leading toward the Three Echoes Mountain.
"The gate is here," the merchant said. "At least, that's where the last group claims to have seen it."
Han Feng studied the map.
The location was correct.
The merchant continued.
"Some say the gate belongs to an ancient sect. Others claim it leads to a sealed inheritance. One fool insisted it was a passage to another world."
"And what do you believe?"
"I believe six cultivators went looking for answers and only four returned."
Han Feng looked up.
"The missing two?"
"One vanished near the gate. The other came back alive, but he couldn't speak for three days."
"Why?"
"The physicians couldn't determine the cause."
The merchant tapped the map.
"During those three days, he kept drawing the same symbol."
He took a second piece of paper from beneath the table.
A crude drawing had been made in black ink.
A broken hexagon.
Six sections surrounded an empty center.
Han Feng felt a faint tightening in his chest.
The symbol was not identical to the Celestial Diagram.
But the resemblance was too close to dismiss.
He kept his expression neutral.
"Where did this drawing come from?"
"The survivor made it before he left town."
"Where did he go?"
"No one knows."
Han Feng studied the drawing for another moment before returning it.
The merchant watched him carefully.
"You recognize it?"
"No."
The answer came without hesitation.
The old man did not appear convinced.
Han Feng gathered the map and placed it inside his robe.
"This is enough."
The merchant finally took the primitive stones.
"One piece of advice."
Han Feng paused.
"Don't go north."
"Why?"
The old man's gaze moved toward the darkening sky.
"Because whatever is happening there, it doesn't behave like an ordinary ruin."
He leaned closer.
"And because the people who went searching for treasures are no longer the only ones interested."
Han Feng left without replying.
Outside, the last light of day was fading.
He had intended to gather information and leave.
Now he had a new problem.
The gate was attracting attention, and someone had drawn a symbol resembling the Celestial Diagram after encountering it.
The two events might be connected.
They might not.
Either way, returning to the mountain immediately would be reckless.
He needed to know who had reached the gate and what they had discovered.
But he also needed to avoid being caught in the middle of a struggle between factions.
Han Feng turned toward the town's northern exit.
He would leave before nightfall.
Then he would observe the mountain from a distance.
No direct approach.
No unnecessary use of his Gu.
And no attempt to open the gate.
Not until he understood what had changed.
He had almost reached the northern road when the world stopped.
There was no warning.
No rumbling beneath the ground.
No flash of lightning.
One moment, the town was filled with the ordinary sounds of evening.
The next, everything vanished.
The wind ceased.
The river fell silent.
Even the spiritual fluctuations within Han Feng's body seemed to disappear.
For a fraction of a second, he could not feel his own primordial essence.
He could not sense the Celestial Diagram.
He could not detect the golden seal.
It was as if someone had severed every connection between him and the world.
Then the sky split open.
A narrow crack appeared above Shuanghe.
It was not the delicate silver fissure he had seen in the mountains.
This was wider.
Sharper.
Like a sword cut through the fabric of heaven.
Golden light poured from its edges.
The crack expanded by a fraction.
And behind it—
There was another sky.
A red sky beneath which enormous mountains floated in an endless darkness.
Golden rivers crossed the distant horizon.
The landscape looked familiar.
Not because Han Feng had visited it in person, but because it resembled the vision he had experienced when the golden seal briefly connected his consciousness to the foreign energy.
The pressure descended.
People throughout Shuanghe froze.
A merchant dropped a crate.
A cultivator standing on a rooftop fell to one knee.
Several guards clutched their chests, their faces twisting in pain.
Han Feng's body stiffened.
The golden seal pulsed beneath his skin.
The Celestial Diagram trembled violently.
He tried to withdraw his spiritual sense, but there was nothing to withdraw. The world had become too quiet, too empty.
Then he saw the figure.
Beyond the red sky, something enormous moved.
At first, it resembled a distant mountain.
Then the shape shifted.
A colossal shadow emerged behind the floating peaks, its body too vast to comprehend. Countless eyes opened across its surface, each one shining with a different intensity.
Some were dark.
Some were red.
Others glimmered with a cold golden light.
The figure did not emerge completely.
It did not need to.
Its presence alone made the surrounding space appear distorted.
Han Feng felt the pressure strike his consciousness.
His knees nearly buckled.
Blood rose into his throat, but he forced himself to remain standing.
He had encountered powerful cultivators.
He had witnessed ancient formations and felt the pressure of entities that existed beyond ordinary cultivation.
This was different.
He could not measure the figure's cultivation.
He could not even determine whether the concept of cultivation applied to it.
It was simply too far beyond his understanding.
Then one of the eyes moved.
The enormous pupil turned toward Shuanghe.
Toward the town.
Toward Han Feng.
For an instant, he felt as though every secret he possessed had been exposed.
The Celestial Diagram.
The Black Urn.
The crystal.
The golden seal.
He could not tell whether the figure had truly perceived any of them.
He only knew that something on the other side had noticed the disturbance.
And that the attention felt unbearably cold.
The golden seal pulsed again.
Pain exploded through Han Feng's chest.
He staggered and caught himself against a stone wall.
The figure remained visible for another heartbeat.
Then the crack contracted.
The golden light vanished.
The red sky disappeared.
The enormous shadow withdrew into the darkness beyond the boundary.
The fissure closed.
The world returned.
Sound crashed over Shuanghe like a breaking wave.
People screamed.
A horse reared and overturned a cart. Several cultivators collapsed onto the street, coughing blood. Others ran blindly toward the gates, abandoning their possessions.
A young man stood in the middle of the road, staring at the sky with empty eyes.
He whispered the same sentence repeatedly.
"It saw us."
"It saw us."
"It saw us."
Han Feng remained beside the wall.
His breathing was uneven.
His chest burned where the golden seal lay beneath his skin.
He checked his primordial essence.
It was still circulating.
His meridians had not collapsed.
The Celestial Diagram was still present, although its rotation had become irregular.
The seventh point flickered weakly.
He was alive.
That was all he could confirm.
He looked toward the sky.
There was no crack.
No golden light.
No sign of the enormous figure.
But the pressure had left a trace in his spiritual sense, like the lingering pain of an injury that could not yet be seen.
Han Feng slowly straightened.
The incident had been witnessed by hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people.
There would be no hiding it.
By tomorrow, cultivators across the region would be discussing the sky that had opened above Shuanghe. Some would call it a divine revelation. Others would claim that an ancient evil had awakened.
The major sects would send investigators.
The frightened would search for protection.
The ambitious would search for an opportunity.
And those who understood the significance of the figure might begin preparing for something far worse.
Han Feng wiped the blood from his mouth.
He did not call it an invasion.
He did not call it a collision.
He had seen a boundary open, revealing something beyond the known world.
That was enough.
Everything else remained uncertain.
But uncertainty did not make the danger less real.
Han Feng left Shuanghe before the streets had fully recovered.
He avoided the main road, choosing a narrow trail that led toward the northern mountains. He had no intention of returning directly to the metallic gate, but he wanted to observe the surrounding region from a distance.
The sight above Shuanghe had changed the situation.
The gate might be connected to the disturbances.
The crystal might be responding to the same underlying force.
The golden seal had reacted when the enormous figure appeared.
Those were three separate observations.
Whether they shared a common cause remained unknown.
Han Feng would not risk his life by treating them as a single certainty.
He reached a rocky overlook shortly before midnight.
Below him, Shuanghe was illuminated by scattered lanterns. Cultivators moved through the streets, gathering in groups and arguing over what they had witnessed.
Beyond the town, the mountains stretched into darkness.
Han Feng looked up.
The red star remained visible.
The purple star shone farther away.
Between them, the golden light appeared again.
For several seconds, all three were visible at once.
Han Feng remembered the prophecy.
When the three Eyes open, the veil will fall.
He still did not know what the three Eyes were.
The stars might be related.
They might merely be signs of a larger process.
And the colossal figure might have been one of the beings described in the ancient records—or something those records had never anticipated.
He refused to decide without evidence.
But the appearance of the golden light had coincided with the greatest disturbance yet.
That fact mattered.
Han Feng closed his eyes and examined the Celestial Diagram.
The seven points remained as before.
The seventh was still incomplete.
Yet a faint golden trace had appeared near its outer edge.
It vanished before he could study it.
Han Feng opened his eyes.
"So you responded to it too."
The Diagram gave no answer.
He looked toward the distant northern mountains.
The gate had become a beacon for people seeking power.
Shuanghe had become a witness to something beyond ordinary cultivation.
And somewhere beyond the boundary, a being with countless eyes had looked into the Gu World.
He could not fight that being.
He could not understand it.
He could not even be certain that it had been aware of him as an individual.
But he could prepare.
He could gather information, strengthen his foundation, refine his control over his Gu, and learn as much as possible about the forces now entering his world.
That was the only course available to him.
Han Feng pulled his cloak tighter and turned away from the overlook.
"First, I survive."
His voice was calm.
"Then I'll learn what I'm dealing with."
He descended toward the darker side of the mountain, leaving Shuanghe behind.
Above him, the three lights shone through the clouds.
For one brief moment, the golden star dimmed.
The red and purple lights remained.
Then the golden light returned.
No fourth star appeared.
No second crack opened.
Nothing else happened.
Yet far beyond the visible sky, something shifted in the darkness.
A single eye closed.
Another opened.
And somewhere on the other side of the boundary, a voice spoke in a language that had never been heard in the Gu World.
"The first observation is complete."
A pause followed.
"Do not open the passage again."
Silence.
Then another voice answered.
"Why?"
The first voice remained quiet for a long time.
"Because something on the other side has begun looking back."
The darkness swallowed the voices.
And the boundary between the worlds remained unbroken—for now.