Chapter 26: The Azure Marsh Beneath the City Walls

“A whole month! A full month!” Youyou sighed deeply, staring up at the sky. “How did I not think to have him try using that book… What an idiot! I’m so ashamed I can’t face anyone!”

The white serpent thrashed wildly on the table, its elongated body—lacking both chest and legs—demonstrating the meaning of pounding its chest and stamping its feet in frustration. Ji Qiufeng wore a calm, indifferent expression. “Don’t blame yourself. I never expected that book’s appraisal rating to be so high. We’re just lucky.”

Xie An wiped the sweat from his brow. “This concerns your life, Mr. Ji. Can you not treat it so casually?”

“A calm mind is the most important,” Ji Qiufeng replied leisurely. He glanced at the yellow crystal on the table and cleared his throat. “Ahem! Can you hear me? I’m sure if I push a little harder, I can live for another two months. You two mustn’t act rashly. Stay safe. That’s all.”

A muffled female voice came from inside the yellow crystal: “Daddy…”

“After listening, I feel even less hopeful,” Chu Hengkong remarked.

Youyou rushed to the crystal, shrieking sharply, “Don’t listen to his nonsense! Even if it means smashing the swamp, you must find the gold, understand?!!”

“Understood!” “Orders received.”

Chu Hengkong pocketed the yellow crystal used for communication and, alongside his excited partner, gazed into the distance.

The damp wind stirred the white sails as the dragon-headed ship sliced through the water. The "Dragon Boat" weaved through the city’s waterways, heading toward the lower level terminal. This vessel was the most commonly used transport between the middle and lower districts. Its exterior resembled a medieval three-masted sailboat, but like other city devices, its power came from flowing orbs. The ship had three decks and could hold up to 3,000 passengers—truly a colossal beast.

Overcrowding was inevitable for such vessels; no matter how well-designed, the cabins were always packed. Hence, the two slipped to the strictly forbidden upper deck, brazenly breaking rules to enjoy the breeze flowing over the white sails.

“Yahoo!” Ji Huaisu waved his fists like a child on a spring outing. Chu Hengkong couldn’t help but laugh. “Mind your image, Captain Huaisu.”

“Why can’t I be happy? You’re grinning like an idiot yourself,” Ji Huaisu grinned. “By the way, why did you look so expressionless before, like you didn’t care about anything?”

“You mean last night?” Chu Hengkong hesitated, about to speak of the past. “It’s a habit from my days in the underworld.”

“…There’s a rule about suppressing emotions in the underworld?”

“No, but we control our feelings,” Chu Hengkong explained. “My boss says sadness is a synonym for giving up. Only after exhausting every means can one rightfully grieve. So we try every possible method, no matter how absurd, until after death when the dust settles, then quietly mourn at the grave.”

Ji Huaisu stared at him as if he were an all-powerful supermachine. She gave his shoulder a hearty slap. “I admire your boss’s iron will and strong leadership… but if you keep it up, you’ll become a machine! You’re a living, breathing person—cry when you want, laugh when you want. Please say ‘I have an idea’ like a normal person next time.”

Chu Hengkong thought to himself, “You’re overthinking. I’m emotional and rational, but if I wallow in despair every time, the team atmosphere would collapse.” He didn’t bother responding, just gripped the railing tightly. “We’re descending now—be careful not to fall.”

The waterway ahead dropped sharply, the roaring cascade overpowering the wind. Before them yawned a vast chasm where the water plunged down like a thousand-foot waterfall from the atrium to the lower level. The Dragon Boat accelerated toward the waterfall, its momentum like a grand suicide. Inside, children screamed with excitement. Ji Huaisu held the railing tightly, his expression suddenly changing.

“Uh…” The blonde girl hesitated, “I just remembered something.”

“What is it?” Chu Hengkong sensed trouble.

“The outside of the Dragon Boat isn’t waterproof…”

Chu Hengkong’s vision blackened. “That was your terrible idea!”

In an instant, the world flipped upside down. The Dragon Boat crossed the boundary and plunged down the waterfall. Waves engulfed their vision, the thunderous roar everywhere—like the waterfall itself was howling. Chu Hengkong hurriedly pulled down his hood, bracing to become a drenched mess, but the expected impact never came. Instead, a faint golden light appeared before his eyes.

Ji Huaisu had raised a spherical shield, secretly observing his reaction. Chu Hengkong yanked up his hood. “I see you really like this bit.”

“Well, you’re always so calm, hardly ever flustered!” Ji Huaisu chuckled. “What’s it like riding the waves?”

“To be honest, it’s breathtaking,” Chu Hengkong said. “Riding a bus with such grandeur—only here.”

The boat steadied, defying logic, riding the waterfall down. When the mist cleared, lush green stretched before them. The verdant hues came from leaves, plants, lakes, and swamps. The dense forest unfurled like a painting, dotted with dark green swamps—like the eyes of the earth.

At the forest’s heart stood the giant tree that pierced through Huilong City, its gnarled roots floating atop the lake, supporting the brown earth within the swamp. Low houses nestled by the roots spread in all directions, forming numerous settlements—dozens in total—where nearly half the city’s population dwelled.

This was the city’s lowest level, the Verdant Swamp District, a realm of plants and wetlands.

·

“Fresh giant squid, five orbs each!” “Authentic swamp treasure maps!” “Miraculous pills!” “Mushrooms! Delicious mushrooms!”…

Outside the terminal was the bustling local market, vendors shouting themselves hoarse. Blue-feathered geese honked raucously, occasionally clashing with the watchdogs of the stalls. Mud splattered indiscriminately on vendors and customers alike, provoking shouts and complaints. The air was thick with humidity, filth, and insect chirps—alive in all its grimy vitality. Compared to the atrium, this place was surprisingly lively.

“Your outfit’s all wrong,” Chu Hengkong said.

Ji Huaisu had just disembarked and wrapped herself tightly in a yellow raincoat, hiding her blonde hair and delicate face beneath the hood’s shadow. Chu Hengkong was ready to shed his coat; he couldn’t imagine how hot it must be to wear a raincoat here.

“There’s a reason…” Ji Huaisu lowered her voice. “I can’t show my face in the Verdant Swamp District. You’ll have to handle the external negotiations. Are you familiar with the lower level?”

“First time here.”

“Alright, Captain will give you some basic knowledge. Lesson one: all the kids at the dock are thieves.”

“Just in time.” Chu Hengkong caught a small hand reaching into his pocket.

The dirty hand belonged to a boy with horns on his head. Caught, he sheepishly smiled in apology. Another horned girl slipped out from the crowd and, seizing the distraction, tried to reach into Chu Hengkong’s left pocket, presumably full of orbs.

The girl’s hand found nothing but the sleeve of his coat. She accidentally grabbed the arm of the toothless boy. The two kids glared at each other, then looked up to find the man in the coat had vanished into the crowd.

“Their horns look like rhinoceros beetles.”

“That means, like Mrs. Ansa, they have forest-dweller bloodlines. Whenever you see horns, unusual skin colors, or scales, you can assume they’re immigrants from Shenshu City-States,” Ji Huaisu lifted her chin slightly. “Look over there—your comrades.”

Chu Hengkong followed her gaze to a fruit stall with a peculiar setup. A man dressed as a samurai in purple light armor knelt on white cloth, with two banners behind him: “Killing without bloodshed” on the left, “Secret Art of the Ruthless Heart” on the right. Several thugs brandishing blunt knives and clubs stood around. Seeing Chu Hengkong looking over, they shouted, “What’re you staring at, customer?” “Want to die, customer?” “If you want to kill, come get your orbs, customer!”

Chu Hengkong smiled gently and turned away. “I should correct your notion. We assassins don’t operate like a clown troupe.”

“They’re exiles from Shura Island, speak oddly but mostly strong,” Ji Huaisu said. “Watch your step—don’t step on the squids.”

Chu Hengkong looked down and met the gaze of two small eyes lurking in the mud. A pink squid-like creature hid beneath the ground, stretching out a dirty tentacle toward him, seemingly curious. But a blue-feathered goose nearby noticed it, lunged, and swallowed the squid and mud whole.

Tentacles wriggled frantically outside the goose’s beak. The goose glanced at Chu Hengkong arrogantly but, noticing Ji Huaisu beside him, panicked, leapt, and rushed into the street’s drainage ditch like a startled bird.

Chu Hengkong recalled the most common dish at the cafeteria. “This thing…”

“Is the squid and goose you eat every day,” Ji Huaisu explained. “Water-avoiding geese like squid and small devices but flee when they see women. Fresh squids prefer shiny little objects and are attracted to strong men.”

Chu Hengkong’s face twisted. He spotted another water-avoiding goose “swimming” out of a fish vendor’s tank. “So squids come from underground? Geese come from water?”

“What else?” Ji Huaisu found it amusing. “Do you think these things need to be raised?”

“In my hometown, yes.”

“Wow, your place is weird.”

Ji Huaisu nimbly squeezed through the crowd, leading him through alleys between wooden houses. The market was enormous and chaotic, filled with strange goods. A first-time visitor could easily get lost at the entrance. Along the way, Chu Hengkong saw yellow-clothed people praying by cherry wood carvings—refugees from the Netherworld Kingdom; tall, stern-faced groups addressing each other by numbers—the descendants of ancient giants’ lands; mushroom sellers, fishermen wearing beast heads, and octopus ball vendors possessed by demons…

The crowd was so diverse it made his head spin. They clearly came from different worlds but spoke the same language. This swamp was like a green crucible, where races and cultures melded in the dampness. He realized that the old Huilong City must have connected many dusty isles, or else it couldn’t have attracted so many immigrants. But now, with the city sealed off, these immigrants were homeless exiles…

Feeling oppressed by these thoughts, Chu Hengkong loosened his collar. Ji Huaisu, mistaking this for heat, whispered, “Hold on, we’re almost there.”

“I’m taking off my coat.”

Chu Hengkong reckoned that tentacles here were no big deal, so he casually began to remove his coat. Ji Huaisu quickly grabbed his arm. “Don’t!”

But she was too late. Halfway through removing it, a tentacle was exposed to the humid air. Suddenly, astonished gazes turned from all directions, gasps of surprise filled the air. Conversations ceased, and half the market turned, all eyes fixated on that tentacle.

The fervent, peculiar stares felt strangely familiar to Chu Hengkong. Then, a fish vendor raised both hands, his voice trembling with ecstatic reverence: “Oh, oh, great Touch! Hand of the Divine!!”