Chapter Eight: Let Me Guide You Up the Tower

Third Prison: The Thunder Prison.

Zhu Qianqing recited the inscription on the tombstone, lost in thought.

Behind her, Shen Wan was leaning against the wall, clutching his chest, gasping for breath. The first two floors had been manageable; when climbing alone, he could stop to rest. But with Zhu Qianqing here this time, Shen Wan refused to lose face, so he ascended without pause straight from below. The stone stairs spiraled upward, towering over ten stories high. Shen Wan felt grateful he hadn't died halfway; it was a blessing.

In contrast, Zhu Qianqing's breathing was steady and her steps relaxed, as if nothing had happened. Deep inside, Shen Wan suffered a crushing blow to his pride.

“Senior... Senior, are you alright?” Zhu Qianqing eyed Shen Wan curiously. How could someone who had traversed the first two prisons unscathed be so exhausted just from climbing stairs?

Shen Wan didn't bother to explain; he truly didn't have the strength to talk. He plopped down beside the stone gate and waved for Zhu Qianqing to rest as well.

Seeing his state, Zhu Qianqing dared not ask further and stood aside, intent on observing what the Thunder Prison was like.

After about half an hour, Shen Wan finally felt rested. During that time, several other disciples entered; seeing him sprawled at the doorway, they all greeted him before beginning their trial in the third prison.

He stood up, stretched his chest, and glanced at the wild, cursive characters on the tombstone. He’d already heard Zhu Qianqing recite them, so he looked away and fixed his gaze inside the arena.

No surprise—the layout was identical to the previous two layers, though there were noticeably fewer disciples here.

But Zhu Qianqing was different. Her body, without her realizing, was trembling uncontrollably.

The oppressive thunderclouds shrouded the sky, and lightning crashed down, splitting the earth with deafening roars. The ground fractured, stones flew, thunder shook the land, the earth quaked.

The world seemed on the brink of apocalypse.

From within the pitch-black abyss came shrill wails, and those flashes of lightning felt as if they struck her own body, chilling her soul.

Standing outside the arena, she dared not move forward; deep inside, she was already thinking of retreat.

Shen Wan patted her shoulder, about to suggest they leave, but Zhu Qianqing reacted like a startled cat, letting out a cry and nearly jumping two meters high.

Her fright startled Shen Wan as well, who almost lost his balance and fell.

“Damn, are you crazy? You scared the hell out of me!”

Only after Shen Wan’s outburst did Zhu Qianqing snap back to reality. Embarrassed, she quickly bowed in apology.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Senior, I just…”

Her eyes still held a hint of terror. Shen Wan glanced at the scene—he couldn’t see it himself, but from her expression, he could tell this prison was far from simple.

He waved off her apology and pointed inside. “Is it that terrifying? Are you going to continue?”

Zhu Qianqing shook her head hurriedly.

“No… no, Senior. With my cultivation, I’m really forcing it in this layer. I…”

She paused, then continued, “I should just leave.”

Shen Wan raised an eyebrow, pondering before asking, “Giving up without even trying? What about your Dao heart?”

He recalled stories of cultivators who, if they retreated even once, could easily shatter their Dao heart, making it impossible to progress in their lifetime.

He wasn’t sure if it was true, but he asked anyway.

Zhu Qianqing was stunned.

Dao heart?

She didn’t even know what her Dao heart was, but seeing Shen Wan’s somewhat stern expression, her heart trembled slightly.

—

The Bamboo family of the Valley was not the topmost clan, but it ranked among the elite after the Four Great Families. With many younger members, her eldest brother Zhu Qianye and third sister Zhu Qianling were both prodigies.

One had entered the Valley’s premier sect, Gu You Sect, and in just four years rose to the top hundred disciples. The other became a nominal disciple of the Lord of the Ling Cave Mansion.

With their status, they held considerable sway within the family.

Her second sister Zhu Qianyun, who was as ordinary as herself, understood the fate of lesser branches in great families, and so married far away, never to return.

Compared to them, Zhu Qianqing’s father was unremarkable among his peers, and she herself was always at the bottom of the family hierarchy.

Her father’s line was exceedingly humble in the Bamboo family, and even her upright nature translated into meekness and weakness before outsiders.

She didn’t want to follow her second sister’s path, but no matter how hard she tried, she remained just another ordinary disciple.

Weakness—there was nothing she could do.

“I… don’t have a Dao heart…”

Her voice was faint. Zhu Qianqing lowered her head, a bitter feeling rising within.

Shen Wan frowned, puzzled at her sudden sadness. Was his mention of the Dao heart really so piercing?

Thinking for a moment, inspiration struck him. He grabbed his robe and tried to tear it.

It wouldn’t rip.

He pulled up a corner of his undershirt, about to tear it, but hesitated—it was one of his few reminders that he came from Earth. Reluctantly, he tucked it back in.

“Your skirt is pretty long—tear a strip from it.”

Shen Wan pointed at her dress.

“Huh?” Zhu Qianqing was confused, but Shen Wan stepped forward and tried to pull her skirt, to no avail.

“Man, what kind of material is this? So sturdy?”

“Um… Senior, what are you doing?”

A blush flashed across Zhu Qianqing’s face, her voice embarrassed.

Shen Wan wasn’t embarrassed at all.

“Just tear a strip. Later, cover your eyes. I’ll lead you up the tower.”

“Cover my eyes?”

Zhu Qianqing was puzzled. In the Immortal Realm of Sealing Heaven, eyes merely discerned shapes; to truly perceive the essence of things, one relied on powerful spiritual sense.

So… would covering her eyes really make her less afraid?

Seeing Shen Wan’s earnestness, Zhu Qianqing skeptically tore a long strip from her skirt and tied it over her eyes as instructed.

Sure enough, though the thunderous noise still roared in her ears, shrouding the terrifying scene made the fear seem to abate somewhat.

But suddenly plunged into darkness, Zhu Qianqing instinctively released a bit of spiritual sense.

And… became even more terrified…

Her body trembled, sweat beading on her forehead. She tore off the cloth, her breathing rapid.

Shen Wan was speechless. Apparently, even with her eyes covered, she couldn’t stay obedient.

“Did you just… uh… you know, did you use magic again?”

Struggling to explain, he waved his hands before his eyes like an octopus.

Now it was Zhu Qianqing’s turn to be speechless.

She merely extended her spiritual sense. Was it really so complicated?

“I just… checked with my spiritual sense.”

“Spiritual sense? What’s that? Never mind. Later, just keep your eyes covered and do nothing—follow me.”

He stretched out his arm again. “Hold on.”

—

Zhu Qianqing blushed again.

“Why should I hold on? I haven’t agreed to go with you yet.”

Indignant inside, but outwardly still meek and gentle.

Shen Wan thought she was embarrassed, so he grinned, “Just grab my arm. With me here, climbing this broken tower is easy. Aren’t you curious what’s at the top?”

“The tower top?”

Zhu Qianqing murmured. Since the Ten Prisons Tower opened, no one had ever reached its summit.

So no one knew what lay at the top.

If she really reached the summit…

Her heart stirred, and suddenly the loving but weary face of her father appeared in her mind.

If she truly climbed to the top, even if not by her own strength, would the sect notice her? Would her family finally give her the recognition she deserved?

Eldest brother, second sister, third sister, patriarch…

Familiar faces from her family flashed one by one in her mind.

When her father’s face reappeared, Zhu Qianqing bit her lip and firmly grasped Shen Wan’s arm.

Shen Wan winced—she looked frail, but her grip was strong.

“That’s it. Cover your eyes and don’t use magic.”

He pointed at the cloth in her hand.

Zhu Qianqing hesitated, but followed his instructions, covering her eyes again.

She held onto Shen Wan’s arm, and he felt a tingling numbness.

He glanced at the arena and recalled Zhu Qianqing mentioning this layer was called Thunder Prison. Though he couldn’t see it, the name gave him a good idea.

He raised his other hand and, like a windshield wiper, waved it over Zhu Qianqing’s head.

“Alright, this should do.”

He silently praised his own ingenuity and stepped into the arena.

As expected, when Shen Wan led Zhu Qianqing into the thunder pool, the thunder overhead instantly crashed down.

But as it neared Shen Wan’s arm, the lightning altered its course, striking the ground beside them.

Tiny stars flickered on his arm—remnants of dissipated thunder.

Of course, Shen Wan couldn’t see them.

Bolt after bolt gathered above them, then scattered, forming a protective dome that enveloped the pair.

Zhu Qianqing, though blindfolded, was assailed by the deafening thunder, gripping Shen Wan’s arm with trembling fingers.

Suddenly, a bolt changed trajectory and struck near her feet.

With a loud crash and flying stones, Zhu Qianqing cried out, pressing herself tightly against Shen Wan’s arm.

She suffered no injury, but the sensation of hearing but not seeing in the darkness was even more unnerving than witnessing it with open eyes.

She buried her face in Shen Wan’s shoulder, clinging to his arm, shivering.

Feeling her trembling, Shen Wan sighed softly.

Though they were mere acquaintances, her stunning beauty tugged at his heart with pity.

He wanted to comfort her, but in the end, he shook his head, his mind musing:

“So soft…”