Chapter Twelve: Spinning Together

This disciple wore a blue robe adorned with golden patterns, though it was unclear which elder he was personally apprenticed to. His current attire was torn, exposing both arms as they moved swiftly before his chest, as if casting a spell. Suddenly, his back arched, as if seized by something, and his body was flung backwards through the air. In a flash, he twisted midair, striking several blows behind him; by leveraging the force of his palms, he managed to steady himself. But before he could catch his breath, he plummeted once more at high speed.

As he fell, he vanished from the spot, reappearing less than three meters away, tumbling across the ground three or four times before springing upright. Shen Wan watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding in alarm. Though he could not see those illusory scenes, the disciple’s every move, coupled with the blood occasionally spurting from his wounds, sent chills down Shen Wan’s spine.

“This is total encirclement and ambush on all sides!” he muttered, realizing the prison was a relentless attack zone with no blind spots. To pass through safely with two companions would be impossible without comprehensive protection. It made his head ache.

Shen Wan patted his forehead, his brows locked in a tight frown. Suddenly, a nearby disciple seemed struck by something, spinning rapidly in the air; a long trail of blood followed, and then he vanished from the field. Witnessing this, Shen Wan felt a sudden jolt in his mind.

“I know what to do!” he exclaimed, turning excitedly to his companions. Both perked up at his words, and Lin Bufan was the first to speak: “Brother Shen, did you really come up with a plan?”

Shen Wan didn’t reply, instead grabbing Zhu Qianqing’s hand. The shock was like an electric current, making Zhu Qianqing’s hair stand on end. She shook his hand off in surprise: “What are you doing!”

Realizing his inappropriate behavior, Shen Wan hurriedly apologized: “Sorry, sorry, I was impatient and didn’t have time to explain.” Zhu Qianqing covered her chest with both hands, her cheeks tinged with red, biting her lip and saying nothing as she eyed Shen Wan.

Seeing her delicate, blushing face, Shen Wan swallowed hard. “Well… actually, my plan is this…” He briefly outlined his idea: he wanted the three of them to walk hand-in-hand, spinning in a circle as they moved forward.

Zhu Qianqing’s face grew even redder. However, after a moment’s thought, she realized Shen Wan’s method might work. After all, Lin Bufan and Zhu Qianqing were genuine immortals, neither foolish nor naïve. Shen Wan’s claim to possess a universal key was still met with skepticism. In previous prisons, attacks would dissipate instantly upon touching Shen Wan. Whatever his means or artifacts, it was his own secret, and neither companion would shamelessly inquire.

Since the method seemed feasible, the three hesitated no longer. Though Zhu Qianqing was shy, she accepted reality and took hold of both their hands. Feeling the warmth of her small hand, Shen Wan instinctively squeezed it. Another electric current surged; Zhu Qianqing didn’t pull away this time, but bit her lip and shot Shen Wan a fierce glare.

He swallowed once more. Shen Wan quickly avoided her gaze and looked at Lin Bufan. Yet Lin Bufan’s face was now as red as a monkey’s backside—ridiculously flushed.

Afraid to squeeze too hard, Lin Bufan gingerly held Zhu Qianqing’s hand, his whole body burning hot, as if about to steam. “Ah, this guy… When I make it big, I’ll show you the true essence of foot massage culture,” Shen Wan thought, gesturing for the others to prepare themselves.

Though at first the two were awkward and hesitant, they gradually adapted and settled into the rhythm. Their faces remained tinged with pink, but it didn’t hinder their actions. At Shen Wan’s signal, the trio began to move.

Lacking inertia at first, they bumped into one another a few times. But soon, their clockwise rotation became smooth. The results were promising; the mirrored surfaces poised to attack shattered one by one as Shen Wan spun past, preventing any harm to the group as they advanced dozens of meters.

However, Lin Bufan and Zhu Qianqing, as cultivators, were able to withstand it. Shen Wan suffered most. The intense dizziness overwhelmed him before they reached a third of the way through, making him retch several times. As the spinning became more fluid and inertia increased, Shen Wan felt the pace quickening.

“Slow down! Slow down!” he finally cried, unable to persist, urging them to reduce their speed. Seeing Shen Wan’s pale face, Lin Bufan and Zhu Qianqing forced themselves to slow their steps, easing his discomfort. But as the speed dropped, their luck worsened. Attacks from the mirrors struck before Shen Wan could spin around to block them—grabbing, biting. Fortunately, the three gripped each other tightly, or else someone would have been swallowed by the mirrors.

“Ah!” “Ouch!” Their cries rang out, along with muffled groans. Lin Bufan’s shoulder and back bore dozens of wounds, while his face was clawed by a demon, blood flicking everywhere from the spinning inertia.

“This won’t do,” Shen Wan observed, seeing them endure with gritted teeth. He tried to think of a better solution, but his dizziness made concentration impossible. As his brain reeled, his feet lost the rhythm, and after two or three missteps, he stumbled sideways.

Instinctively, Shen Wan grabbed—one hand catching Lin Bufan’s belt, the other wrapping around Zhu Qianqing’s waist. With a powerful pull, he righted himself. But the force brought the others close, and suddenly, the three were pressed together in an embrace.

“Uh…” Shen Wan was embarrassed. Lin Bufan was about to combust. Zhu Qianqing… seemed electrified.

Thanks to lingering inertia, they braced their feet and managed not to collapse. Zhu Qianqing’s hair stood on end, breath quickened, lips trembled, and her throat worked as if about to explode. In this critical moment, Shen Wan reacted swiftly and called out:

“Keep spinning, don’t stop!” he shouted, holding their waists tightly to restore the rhythm. The trio resumed their rotation, and now, both companions reflexively wrapped their arms around each other’s waists. Shen Wan grew even dizzier.

This time, with a solid grip and closer proximity, their circle shrank, slowing the pace. Attacks from the mirrors, though swift, could scarcely reach them now.

“See… my method… works…” Shen Wan managed to say, face buried and words fragmented. Shameless as it sounded, the others had to admit his method was indeed more effective. Zhu Qianqing snorted coldly and focused on steady steps, while Lin Bufan continued to steam.

They spun for over half an hour, maintaining their formation until they finally reached the stone gate leading to the eighth prison. Upon entering, Zhu Qianqing immediately let go, slapping away the hands still resting on her waist. With a leap, she moved two meters away, keeping her distance from the others.

Lin Bufan quickly withdrew his hands, face reddening as he turned aside to cough. Then, Shen Wan collapsed with a loud thud. Though the spinning had ceased, the dizziness lingered; he clenched the earth with both hands and squeezed his eyes shut, cursing inwardly.

“Use and discard, cross the river and break the bridge, forget the fish after catching it, repay kindness with betrayal, when the birds are gone the bow is stored, break faith and abandon friendship, pull up the ladder after climbing, cook the rabbit after the dog dies…”

Shen Wan’s math grades were poor, but his language skills were adequate. He recalled every idiom he’d never needed in eight hundred years, all at once.

While he recovered, the others changed into fresh clothes again. The immortal realm truly consumed garments at an absurd pace.

After the time it took for incense to burn, Shen Wan finally sat up. Though mostly recovered, his mind still buzzed. “Uh… uuugh… could one of you carry me up? Uuugh… I can’t stand…” he said between dry heaves, his legs limp like cotton, bones bent.

Perhaps to ease his own embarrassment, Lin Bufan promptly grabbed Shen Wan’s arm and hoisted him onto his back. Afterward, uncertain what to do, he simply stood and waited for Shen Wan’s instructions.

A little distance away, Zhu Qianqing was still flustered, but the joy of passing the ordeal washed away much of her inner turmoil. Her cheeks were pink as she muttered, “Let me say this… If we have to repeat this next level, I won’t go any further…”

Hearing this, Shen Wan exhaled deeply from Lin Bufan’s back. “Don’t worry, if I have to spin again, I’ll turn around and walk away myself!”

It seemed a tacit agreement had been reached. The three stepped forward, ascending together toward the eighth prison.