Chapter 143: Two Blossoms of Life

Ning Xiu’s worst fears had come true—the entire palace had long since been emptied. The library held no books, the armory no weapons. As for rare treasures and miraculous elixirs, not even a trace remained.

At last, Ning Xiu and the others halted before a grand hall.

“Why is there nothing here? It seems like it’s been plundered ages ago. But if that were true, how could not a single rumor have leaked out?”

“After all the hardships we endured to get here, is this all we find—just a few broken swords?”

The excitement that had once filled the martial world visitors had gradually turned to anger. Even the precious swords they had managed to claim now seemed loathsome.

In Ning Xiu’s mind, the narrow crack he had glimpsed by the city gate came to mind. He shook his head, pushing aside all distractions, and strode toward the hall. The others quickly followed, knowing this was their last hope.

...

“Twin-Life Flower!”

“It’s the Twin-Life Flower!”

As soon as they entered the hall, shouts rang out. At the center stood a black altar, upon which bloomed a flower of black and white petals. Rootless and leafless, with twin-colored blossoms—this was the legendary Twin-Life Flower.

None had expected to find it here.

Before anyone could react, a figure darted from the crowd, racing toward the black altar with lightning speed—too fast for the others to respond in time.

“Whizz, whizz, whizz!”

Everyone was determined that if they couldn’t have the flower, no one else would. Suddenly, a barrage of hidden weapons—stone darts, poison needles—was launched at the shadowy figure.

Faced with such a relentless assault, the figure was forced to halt and turn to defend, yet still suffered serious wounds.

“Scarface Li, are you planning to keep the Twin-Life Flower all to yourself? We discovered it together—you’d better not cross the line!”

A tall, lean man with a dark gaze fixed on the scarred thug ahead, who sneered in reply.

“Heh, Liu Wu’an, is this your first day roaming the martial world? In the ancient Kingdom of Loulan, everything is ownerless. Since it belongs to no one, the strong take what they can. Don’t rush to drag everyone down with you. There’s only one flower—I’ll see how you intend to share it.” Scarface Li wiped blood from his lip and grinned viciously.

“If you end up with the Twin-Life Flower, you’ll have to compensate the rest of us,” Liu Wu’an said grimly. “I’m willing to offer all the spoils I gained in Loulan.”

“Besides offering all my gains on this trip, I’m also willing to give each of you a bottle of the Hundred Herb Pill. Can the Twin-Life Flower be mine?” An elderly man with white hair stepped forward, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Everyone present could hear it clearly.

Those who had made it this far were all famed figures from the Death Desert; none were fools. Not only had they found nothing of value in Loulan, but even if they had, nothing could compare to the Twin-Life Flower.

“In this world, the strong reign supreme. What use are these words?” A woman in red stretched lazily and laughed scornfully at the crowd.

Her voice was filled with charm, drawing all eyes to her. When they saw her alluring figure, no one wanted to look away.

Her words stirred many to the edge of violence. Some already harbored such intentions; others were swayed by her seductive influence.

The atmosphere grew tense, like a drawn sword ready to strike—except one person who stood apart from it all.

Ning Xiu’s attention was not on the Twin-Life Flower. When something is surely yours, it’s easier to remain indifferent.

Even if all others banded together, they were no match for him. All he had to do was stand guard at the entrance and let the Taoist receive his delivery in peace. Instead, Ning Xiu’s gaze lingered on the murals painted on the stone walls flanking the hall.

The murals were breathtaking.

There were eight in total, each telling part of a single story.

The first depicted a flourishing human civilization, people dressed elegantly—not unlike today.

The second showed a gathering—but the figures were not human. Some had two horns, others bore wings, seemingly in council.

The third and fourth murals were damaged, as if deliberately defaced.

The fifth portrayed a raging flood. A man with a blurred face stood naked atop a cliff beside the floodwaters, roaring furiously at the stormy sky.

The sixth showed a blizzard that blotted out the heavens. Hundreds of people held torches, as if attempting to burn the world itself.

The seventh depicted ravenous beasts. The ground was littered with human bones, countless wild creatures, and humans fighting fiercely yet falling into pools of blood.

The eighth captured a grand battle. Though the figures’ faces were blurred, Ning Xiu could sense that one side was humanity.

To him, these eight images formed a coherent narrative: Humans lived peacefully at first, indifferent to the world, until demons and monsters discovered them and could not tolerate their existence.

The demons unleashed disasters—floods, then snowstorms, then ferocious beasts—until humanity, driven to desperation, waged war.

The story ended abruptly after this point.

Despite the missing third and fourth murals, the tale was otherwise complete.

Ning Xiu fell silent for a moment, then slowly withdrew his gaze. Meanwhile, the struggle over the Twin-Life Flower continued in deadlock.

He glanced over, shook his head slightly, and stepped toward the black altar.

...

In a corner of the Death Desert.

“Sir, do remnants of Loulan truly still live in this world?”

“I can’t be certain. Twenty years ago, we finally located Loulan’s ruins, but the seal outside blocked us completely—we couldn’t enter. Ten years ago, when the ruins reopened, we sent a covertly trained human inside. Only one made it to the exit—and even he died. It’s all very strange.”

“This time, let’s spread the news openly. The greedy will swarm in. Our people will be among them. If they try to act, it will be much tougher. I’ve stationed men at the exit—if they dare come, they won’t leave alive.”