Chapter Forty-Five: The Yin-Yang Jade, The Eastern Cloud Empire

The sudden upheaval left everyone staring wide-eyed in shock, especially those like Link who knew something of Lingmeng’s abilities; their disbelief was overwhelming.

Just how powerful was Lingmeng? Only at the early stage of the first rank. Though she was adept in both magic and martial arts, her strength didn’t even match an average warrior at the mid-first rank. Yet now? She had soared to the peak of the third rank! She had leapt nearly three entire levels in one bound—a transformation so extreme that even consuming a miraculous elixir would not have produced such results.

The crowd was stunned by Lingmeng’s abrupt change, but she paid them no heed. As soon as her transformation completed, she launched herself at the bandits without hesitation. Her fighting style was straightforward—direct punches and kicks, supplemented with non-elemental magic missiles.

Magic missiles were a basic technique all mages knew: channeling magical energy outward to strike an enemy. However, their power was weak, incapable of causing wounds or death, and their mana cost was high. For these reasons, few bothered to use them in combat. But Lingmeng seemed unconcerned by the drain. Just how vast was her magical reserve?

Overall, her combat method could best be described as crude. It looked impressive, but if she fought anyone of similar rank with even minimal martial training, she’d likely lose. Against these bandits, though, it was more than enough. None of them had surpassed the first rank, and before Lingmeng at the peak of the third, they were utterly overwhelmed. One by one, she floored them, knocking them out with the force of her magic missiles. Yet she held back from killing; the bandits, though defeated, suffered no fatal injuries. When the last bandit fell, Lingmeng surveyed the sprawled figures with pride and declared, “Hmph! Now you see how formidable I am? You think you can rob me? You’re far too green!”

“Lingmeng.” At that moment, Link approached with the others, scrutinizing her. “Have you been hiding your strength from us all along?”

Lingmeng arched an eyebrow. “What kind of look is that? What do you mean, hiding my strength? I’ve always told you I’m strong! It’s not my fault you never believed me. Every time I brought it up, you’d change the subject.”

Link paused, recalling her words—she was right. Lingmeng had claimed to be powerful before, but for various reasons, he’d never investigated further. She simply hadn’t had the chance to explain.

He flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, that was my oversight. But tell me, how did you suddenly become so much stronger?”

“It’s thanks to this.” Lingmeng gestured to the floating orb that had emerged from within her. “This is the Yin-Yang Jade, a sacred relic of the Celestial Spirit Sect. It resides within every generation’s High Priestess. As long as I draw on its power, I gain immense strength instantly. But my skills are still shallow—I can only unleash less than a tenth of its potential.”

Link and the others listened in astonishment. “If less than a tenth lets you reach the peak of the third rank, then if you used its full power—”

Lingmeng replied, “I’m not sure how strong I’d become. But according to the old priestesses, if I could wield the Yin-Yang Jade’s full might, I’d possess the strength of a Saint.”

“A Saint!” The group gasped. Saints were legendary beings, unmatched in power. The thought that Lingmeng could reach such heights simply by mastering the relic was almost beyond belief.

After the initial shock faded, Link gazed at Lingmeng’s delicate face and felt a pang of guilt. This was a secret she should never have shared with outsiders, yet she revealed it without hesitation—a testament to her guileless nature. All the while, he had been keeping his guard up against her. The comparison made his cheeks burn with shame.

Still, after so many years of playing the role of a cunning priest, Link’s composure was hard to shake. He quickly buried his embarrassment and turned his attention to the red orb. From a distance, he hadn’t noticed its details, but now he saw it bore the pattern of a Taiji diagram, red and white in equal measure.

The orb’s name—Yin-Yang Jade—stood out in his mind. It was unlike the traditional names of treasures in the Solara World, and far more reminiscent of ancient Huaxia culture.

Eagerly, Link asked, “Lingmeng, do you know where this Yin-Yang Jade comes from?”

Lingmeng forgot her earlier annoyance and considered for a moment. “Its origin? I can’t say for sure. But according to the old priestesses, the Yin-Yang Jade hails from the distant Eastern Cloud Empire.”

“The Eastern Cloud Empire? The great empire beyond the clouds and mountains?” Link nodded knowingly. The distance between the Eastern Cloud Empire and the Kingdom of the Stars was like that between Western Europe and Huaxia on Earth—so vast that in these times, the journey was almost unthinkable. To most in the Kingdom of the Stars, the Eastern Cloud Empire was a land of legend.

But Link—or rather, Neil in his previous life—had always been fascinated by that fabled empire. Its people, like Link and Lingmeng, had black hair and eyes and yellow skin, with names reminiscent of Huaxia. The empire was among the mightiest in the world, its territory vast, renowned for producing tea, silk, and porcelain—much like the ancient Huaxia of legend.

Yet, unlike ancient Huaxia, its culture was not so different from the Kingdom of the Stars: magic and martial techniques prevailed, the currency was still Solara, religions were many, and even names and conversation were not so dissimilar. The language, too, was the common tongue of the Solara World. So Link couldn’t feel a true sense of kinship with that nation—only a passing interest.

After recalling what he knew of the Eastern Cloud Empire, Link’s initial excitement faded. He nodded, saying, “I see. If the concept of Yin and Yang exists in the Eastern Cloud Empire, it makes sense that the Yin-Yang Jade comes from there.”

“As long as you understand. Any other questions? Ah—” Lingmeng yawned, fatigue written across her face.

Lingmeng was usually energetic; she had even worked through the night to build the church recently. Puzzled, Link asked, “Are you very tired?”

She nodded. “The Yin-Yang Jade is powerful, but every time I use it, it drains my spirit. Afterwards, I get terribly sleepy. If there’s nothing else, I’d like to rest. So if you have questions, ask quickly—I need to sleep.”

Link thought for a moment, then shook his head. “No, that’s all. We’ll handle the rest—you can sleep if you wish.”

“Good.” With that, Lingmeng retracted the Yin-Yang Jade. Instantly, the powerful aura vanished, and she reverted to a delicate, fragile-looking girl. Her eyes closed, and she slumped forward.

Startled, Link hurried to catch her. Up close, the subtle fragrance of a young woman filled his senses, making his heart skip a beat. How lovely, he thought.

Looking at Lingmeng, he saw she was already asleep. Her peaceful expression made her all the more enchanting. Usually, she was expressionless, often saying the most outrageous things, her personality a force to be reckoned with. With Elia around, Link had never really spent much time with her. Now, with this beautiful girl asleep in his arms, he couldn’t help but study her closely. If, when awake, Lingmeng’s charm lay only in her face, then asleep she radiated a serene and innocent allure that could disarm any man.

That tranquil, defenseless look, coupled with the faint scent and the softness beneath her robe, stirred him deeply. Even with his strong self-control, Link felt the urge to hold her tighter.

Yet, for all his reluctance, he didn’t embrace her for long. It wasn’t that he was saintly, but Saga and Aeolus were watching, and, more importantly, Elia was glancing at him with wounded, reproachful eyes—like a forsaken bride. The guilt made him let go quickly, so he carried Lingmeng to the carriage and left her in Elia’s care.

Turning to the defeated bandits, Link considered how to deal with them. Saga and Aeolus suggested handing them over to the authorities, but Link had other ideas. After a moment’s thought, he asked Saga and Aeolus to find something to tie up the bandits and then wake their leader.

The vegetation was thick here, and Aeolus, having grown up in the mountains, had no trouble finding wild vines suitable for binding. Soon, the two returned with an armful of vines and secured all the bandits, then roused their leader with a bucket of water.

The bandit chief blinked in confusion, looking around. When he saw Link and the others, he started in alarm and tried to rise, only to find himself bound. The events before his blackout came flooding back.

With a bitter smile, the bandit chief said, “I suppose if you walk the night roads long enough, you’ll stumble eventually. We’ve really run into trouble this time.” He raised his head, meeting Link’s gaze. “Are you men of the cloth?”

Though Link was traveling incognito, he still wore a plain priest’s robe, prompting the question. Link nodded. “By the grace of the Father, we are from the Church of the Father in Qinke Town.”

“The Church of the Father in Qinke Town?” The bandit chief frowned in puzzlement, thinking for a moment. “Is that the church where miracles were reported recently, with the backing of the three great churches?”

“Indeed.”

The bandit chief fell silent, then looked up with a pleading expression. “Father, I am truly sorry. We acted rashly and offended you. I know my sins are grave, and I dare not ask your forgiveness. I only beg that you spare the others—they were forced by circumstance to join me and become outlaws. They are not evil by nature and have never killed anyone. So, please, Father, be merciful and let them go. I will bear all the blame myself.”

Hearing this, Link and the others were surprised. Here was a man of true character, willing to sacrifice himself for his companions. But what was most astonishing was his claim that none of the bandits had ever killed anyone. Could that possibly be true?