The Northern Song Dynasty returned south, seeking the truth of the Dao.

"A mirage?"

Wang Zhenhuan stared wide-eyed at the monster that resembled a dragon or a serpent. He had heard of mirages, but this was the first time he had ever seen a 'mirage'—a creature of such monstrous nature.

"Yes, the book describes this creature as resembling a dragon, with horns and ears, and a red mane on its back. It exhales breath that forms pavilions. It appears before rain, and its fat and wax can be used to make candles. The fragrance can be smelled from a hundred paces away, and the smoke rising from it forms the shape of pavilions."

Ling Zhizi nodded and continued, "This creature has not appeared since the pre-Qin era. This is the first time I have ever seen it. Legend has it that it is born from the mating of a snake and a pheasant in the first month of the lunar calendar."

Only eggs laid in the first month of the lunar calendar can attract thunder and lightning from the sky. The lightning strikes the egg, pushing it into the earth, where it absorbs the earth's spiritual energy. It will then transform into a shape resembling a coiled snake.

Five hundred years later, the spiritual energy surrounding the egg dissipated, and the soil solidified into stone. Only then could it be born, beginning its ascent into the sky. When it reached the moonlight, the rocks crumbled, and the mirage appeared.

"No wonder, the conditions for its formation are so demanding, only one appears every five hundred years. And we just happened to run into one. Is this good luck or bad luck?" Wang Zhenhuan chuckled self-deprecatingly.

"Legend has it that the oil of the mirage dragon can be used to make candles, which emit a strong fragrance when lit, and can be smelled from a hundred paces away. What is even more amazing is that candles made from mirage dragon oil also possess some of the mirage dragon's supernatural powers."

The smoke from candles can also transform into the shapes of pavilions and palaces. Moreover, the soul of the mirage dragon is different from that of ordinary creatures; it does not disappear after death but can reattach itself to another body. "Ling Zhizi explained solemnly.

"When it mentioned collecting skins, was that what it meant? If that's the case, then this mirage dragon must be immortal. No wonder such a creature, which defies the laws of nature, was extinct since the pre-Qin period," Wang Zhenhuan said with a sigh.

As his words fell, the mirage dragon let out a low growl. The surroundings suddenly changed; massive clouds and mist rose, quickly obscuring everything. All around was a vast expanse of white.

At the same time, the sound disappeared, and the entire place became exceptionally quiet. Wang Zhenhuan took a half step back, closed his eyes, and sensed for a moment. Then he whispered.

"Master Lingzhi?"

"I am here. Stand still and do not move. This is an illusion created by the clouds and mist exhaled by the mirage dragon. Here, the order is reversed and the five elements are indistinguishable. Do not wander around."

Ling Zhizi's voice seemed to come from near and far, elusive and unpredictable. One moment it seemed to be right beside him, the next it seemed to be far away. After hearing her words, Wang Huanzhen stood still.

Suddenly, the sounds of fighting came from within the clouds. Wang Zhenhuan instinctively wanted to go and help, but then he remembered Ling Zhizi's earlier instructions. For a moment, he froze in place, unsure whether he should go.

Now that I am in the open while the enemy is in the shadows, any rash action could very well lead me into a trap. But there is no one else on the field at this moment, so the sounds of fighting can only be coming from the Mirage Dragon and Ling Zhizi.

He was worried about Ling Zhizi's safety, and after thinking for a moment, he called out loudly, "Daoist Ling Zhi? Where are you? Should I come and help you?"

To his surprise, he called out three or four times, but received no response. Now Wang truly began to feel something was amiss. Even in the midst of a fight, one should have time to respond.

But the fighting continued, and there was no response from Ling Zhizi. Wang Huanzhen grew increasingly uneasy, closed his eyes, and pondered for a moment. Then he began to form hand seals and silently recite incantations:

"Laws have no fixed form, water has no constant shape. The seven stars revolve, illusions shift and change. By the decree of the Supreme Lord Laozi, act swiftly!"

As he finished chanting the incantation, Wang Huanzhen extended his sword finger and pointed it forward. Immediately, a person identical to him appeared before him. Wang Huanzhen then separated a wisp of his spiritual consciousness.

After the clone was activated, it immediately opened its eyes. It nodded to Wang Zhenhuan's main body, then walked towards the location from which the sounds of fighting came, and quickly disappeared into the clouds.

But as soon as his clone stepped into the clouds, the connection with his main body was instantly severed. That wisp of spiritual consciousness also vanished. Wang Zhenhuan felt a sharp pain in his mind, and then he opened his eyes.

This mirage was even more sinister than he had imagined; it could not only obscure his vision but also sever his spiritual connection. Listening to the increasingly distant sounds of fighting ahead, Wang Zhenhuan's expression shifted uncertainly.

The Yin-Yang borrowing technique didn't leave him much time; now, not only was his hair turning white, but his skin was also gradually becoming dry. This was not a good sign, indicating that his lifespan was decreasing and it was already beginning to affect his body.

Wang Huanzhen took a deep breath and then strode towards the location of the fight. As he got closer, the sounds of fighting became clearer. He walked about ten steps.

Although a thick white mist still shrouded everything before him, the sounds of fighting were incredibly close. He whispered, "Master Lingzhi? Where are you?"

Upon hearing his voice, the fighting paused for a few moments, then intensified again. A weak voice came from his left front: "Come help me!"

Just as Wang was about to step forward and make a move, he heard another identical voice coming from his right: "Didn't I tell you not to act rashly? This mirage dragon has no physical body, only a divine soul."

It has a high level of cultivation, but it can't do anything to me for the time being. You should leave! Get out of here!" Although the two voices had different tones, they sounded as if they came from the same person.

Wang Zhenhuan froze on the spot, unsure of what to do. He was now very close to the two of them; even through the clouds, he could hear their panting as they fought.

The voice on the left was heavy, with a higher frequency of breathing. The voice on the right was the opposite, with long, deep breaths and a strong voice. He couldn't decide which side to help.

Judging from the panting, Ling Zhizi had been injured earlier, so there was no doubt she should help the left side. However, what the right side said matched the content of his previous conversation with Ling Zhizi.

Just as he was caught in this dilemma, a sudden inspiration flashed through Wang Zhenhuan's mind. He looked at the clouds before him and asked loudly, "Daoist Lingzhi, this mirage dragon hasn't heard from us. Could it be that it will know what we're saying after it transforms?"

"Of course not!"

"meeting!"

Two voices rang out simultaneously, but they delivered different answers. After hearing the two answers, Wang Zhenhuan made up his mind. He gathered his energy and lightened his body, then rushed to the right.

He then took a step to gain momentum and leaped into the air. He shouted, "Su Zhiru, your little man has come to save you!" After saying that, he turned around in mid-air and struck the mist to his left.

A powerful palm strike swept away all the surrounding mist, revealing a figure hidden beneath it.

Ling Zhizi's pale face was staring at him in astonishment...