Mountain Market Part 3

He pondered for a moment. When he came back to his senses, everyone was already standing before the black iron gate. The Qingming Lanterns, which were said to have been set up by him, floated faintly on both sides, bobbing up and down a few times as the group approached, looking eager to stir.

While the guards weren't nearby, Ning Huaishan whispered, "City Lord, do you still remember how to use these Qingming Lanterns?"

Wu Xingxue said frankly, "Forgot. What's wrong?"

Ning Huaishan had an expression that screamed 'I'm so done'. "These Qingming Lanterns recognize immortal qi; they're incredibly sensitive. It's said they've guarded the gate for several hundred years without a single mistake. They can detect anyone from the Immortal Capital with perfect accuracy, and it's not something a disguise can fool."

Ning Huaishan glanced at High Immortal Tianxiu and lowered his voice even more. "If you remembered how to use them, you could make an exception for Tianxiu. But you don't remember, so what should we do?"

Wu Xingxue: "..."

He said with a woeful face, "I heard these Qingming Lanterns are terrifying when they burn. I don't want to die here, I—"

Halfway through his lament, his eyes suddenly went wide, and his voice cracked on an abrupt turn.

Wu Xingxue followed his gaze and saw that Xiao Fuxuan had only paused for a brief moment in front of the Qingming Lanterns before lifting his foot and walking forward.

His longsword made a very light clinking sound, and as the hem of his robe flew up, his sturdy, long black boots were visible.

The Qingming Lanterns on both sides only flickered lightly a few times, seeming to hesitate for an instant. The next moment, they grew quiet again, completely ignoring the fact that they had just let a High Immortal pass.

Ning Huaishan: "????????"

This time, he and Fang Chu were truly dumbfounded.

"City Lord, why can he get in?"

"Why can he get in when you didn't do anything?"

"He doesn't even look like it's his first time entering."

"City Lord?"

They turned to look at their City Lord and saw his slender neck and chin buried in silver-white fox fur. After a moment, a sentence popped from his lips: "I don't know. Are you two going or not?"

"..."

"We're going."

Even after passing through the heavy black iron gate, Wu Xingxue was still thinking about the phrase, "Why can he get in, and he doesn't even look like it's his first time entering."

He could actually guess why.

Because in that dream, Sang Yu had said his two little gadgets had spotted High Immortal Tianxiu while spying on Quebuluo. If the dream was real, it meant that the High Immortal Tianxiu of the past had also come to Zhaoye City without alerting the Qingming Lanterns, and had never tasted the burn of the Azure Underworld Ghost Fire.

And Ning Huaishan said that he had been the one to set up the Qingming Lanterns. If any tampering were to be done, only he could do it.

Then there was only one answer—

A long time ago, when he was the Lord of Zhaoye City, he had already made an exception for Xiao Fuxuan.

...

Wu Xingxue's steps came to a halt.

He had been subconsciously following the figures ahead. Now, as he abruptly lifted his eyes, he realized he had unknowingly entered a mountain path and was now standing in a patch of mountain mist.

Just by being that one step slow, he saw Xiao Fuxuan's tall back being swallowed by the pale mist.

The mist was abnormally thick, and exceptionally cold.

As Wu Xingxue followed closely through the white mist, he felt it brush past his neck, as if a large drop of ice water had splattered onto the back of his neck and was now trickling down his spine.

The chill startled him into closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the scenery before him had completely changed.

The thick mist was behind him. By his feet was a white stone boundary marker covered in vines, on which was carved beautiful calligraphy: Fallen Flower Terrace.

Ahead of him was a winding path of orange-yellow lights, like a long dragon, starting from the mountain path at his feet and winding all the way to the horizon.

Under the glow of the lights, one could vaguely see connected buildings and open windows, shopfronts and stalls scattered high and low, and the bustling figures of people coming and going.

Banners of various colors fluttered in the mountain shadows. On the nearest long banner were written four characters:

Fallen Flower Mountain Market.

Wu Xingxue stood for a moment, then lifted his foot and walked toward the long banner.

He ducked under the long banner, and the lively sound of chatter washed over him like a suddenly rising tide in the Endless Sea.

Although he had no memory of it, upon hearing the din, he suddenly felt that this was it. This was the Fallen Flower Mountain Market of the past.

But the real Fallen Flower Mountain Market had already burned down, disappearing several hundred years ago.

Then what was this before his eyes?

The guards at the city gate had just said that there had been unusual activity at Fallen Flower Terrace recently, with lights often appearing in the mountains.

Could it be that he had accidentally stepped into an illusion?

But this illusion was far too realistic.

This Mountain Market didn't seem to be built on a mountain path, but more like a long, endless street. The ground was paved with white stones, not laid perfectly seamlessly. When stepped on, one side would tilt up slightly, only to fall back with a soft thud when released.

Nearest to him was a three-story teahouse. The building was built against the mountain but wasn't slanted.

Long strings of lanterns hung down from the flying eaves. Many people were seated inside the teahouse, talking and laughing. A storyteller sat at the front of the hall, holding a block of wood, his storytelling so vivid it was as if stars were flying from his mouth.

A waiter with a white cloth draped over his shoulder had set up a stall outside the hall. His hawking cries drilled straight into Wu Xingxue's ears: "Spirit tea brewed with the immortal spring of Fallen Flower Terrace! One pot cures a hundred ailments, two pots grant a thousand years without worries—"

Wu Xingxue: "..."

The tea banner propped up by the stall swayed there for a long time. He really couldn't resist reaching out and touching the edge of the banner...

This illusion was quite impressive; even the texture of the coarse cloth was perfectly clear.

"Hey, you there, Noble Official! Don't pull on my banner!" the waiter said to him. "Would you like some tea? Our tea and snacks are one of a kind. You won't find them anywhere else outside this Fallen Flower Mountain Market."

Wu Xingxue shook his head, about to say, "No, thank you."

Suddenly, he caught sight of a tall figure about three to five zhang away. The person lifted their sword to push aside a cloth banner fluttering over a stall, then turned sideways to avoid an old man pushing a cart, and was about to be swallowed by the crowd.

Wu Xingxue strode over, just about to call out, "Xiao Fuxuan."

The "Xiao" had just left his lips when he felt a tap on his shoulder. The next instant, a hand gently covered the area below his nose. He took half a step back, and his back bumped into something warm.

Xiao Fuxuan's voice, pitched very low, sounded by his ear. "You can't call out to that one. It's an illusion."