The sound of flowing water grew louder as the Alliance group walked deeper into the passage.
At first, it was only a faint murmur in the darkness. A little farther in, the sound became heavier, like countless streams gathering beneath the earth. By the time the passage opened fully, the noise had turned into a cold roar that filled the entire cavern.
Before them stretched a vast underground river.
The river was not clear. It was grey-black, thick with ash, and its surface moved slowly despite the violent sound it produced. White mist rose from the water, carrying a damp chill that made the disciples' skin tighten. On both sides of the river stood broken stone pillars, and between those pillars floated scattered black rocks. They formed an uneven path across the river, but the distance between each rock was different. Some were only a few feet apart, while others required a full leap.
Above the river, ancient words hung in the air.
Ashen River Crossing.
Those who cross must not fly. Those who sink shall feed the river. Those who look into the water shall see what the river remembers. Those who carry greed heavier than life shall not reach the shore.
The moment everyone saw those words, the group became silent.
Zhao Feng stared at the river for a while, then muttered, "Why do ruins always dislike flying?"
Spirit Foundation Cultivators can fly short distances with the help of Treasures.
Li Shan replied calmly, "Because flying would make the trial easier."
Zhao Feng looked at him. "I know that. I wasn't complaining."
Murong Yue glanced at the river and smiled faintly. "The river probably heard you."
Zhao Feng's face stiffened slightly, and he immediately stopped speaking.
Feng Jiu'er stood near the front, her white-red robes fluttering in the cold mist. Her crimson aura remained restrained, but Fang Lin could see her gaze moving across the floating stones, the current, and the white mist above the water. She did not rush to cross. That was correct. In a place like this, the most dangerous person was not the enemy. It was the fool who took the first step too confidently.
Su Wanqing crouched and picked up a small piece of broken stone from the riverbank. She flicked it toward the nearest floating rock. The stone rolled toward the edge and touched the river, the grey-black water rose like a mouth. In one breath, the stone vanished without even a splash.
Bai Qing's face turned slightly pale. "That water can swallow spiritual material."
"It is not ordinary water," Su Wanqing said softly. "It has ash poison, death Qi, and some kind of devouring force. If a cultivator falls in, even Spirit Foundation protection may not last long."
Fang Lin looked at the river calmly.
The death Qi within the water was faint, but old. It had settled here for many years, mixed with ash and resentment until it became something closer to a living trap than a river. The crossing looked simple, but every floating rock moved with the current at different speeds. If the group crossed carelessly, they would be separated within a few breaths.
His eyes moved toward the ancient words again.
Those who carry greed heavier than life shall not reach the shore.
Fang Lin's expression remained unchanged, but his heart laughed coldly. If the river truly judged greed, then half the cultivation world would drown before touching the second stone. He himself was not without greed either. He wanted strength, answers, treasures, and a road back to Uncle Wei. The difference was simple. His greed had bones. It could stand beneath pressure.
Feng Jiu'er turned toward the group. "We cross in smaller teams. Su Wanqing will lead the left line. Li Shan will lead the right. Fellow Daoist Shen, stay near the rear and watch for changes in the stones."
Fang Lin nodded. "Understood."
Murong Yue looked at him with a teasing smile. "Senior Sister Feng trusts your eyes quite a bit."
Fang Lin said calmly, "Good eyesight is cheaper than dying."
Murong Yue paused, then nodded as if enlightened. "That is ugly wisdom, but useful."
Li Shan glanced at her. "That is usually the best kind."
The tension eased slightly, but no one truly relaxed.
Feng Jiu'er stepped onto the first floating rock. The rock sank half an inch beneath her foot, and grey mist curled around her ankle, but her pale-green Qi spread downward and steadied her body. She did not resist the river violently. Instead, she let her aura settle like roots gripping stone.
The others followed one by one.
Fang Lin stepped onto a rock near the rear. The moment his foot landed, a cold force tried to crawl upward through his sole. It carried hunger, not for flesh first, but for Qi. The river wanted to taste his spiritual foundation. Fang Lin's eyes narrowed slightly, and the Black Mountain Suppression Art moved within him. His Qi became heavy, sinking down like a mountain shadow. The cold force touched it and immediately slowed.
He did not crush it completely. Shen Mo should not be too perfect. He allowed a little chill to climb up his leg before suppressing it naturally. Even now, he was not ready to reveal his Death Qi. Until its absolutely necessary, he would not reveal any unnecessary strength.
The group advanced carefully.
The first part of the crossing was manageable. The floating stones swayed, but the rhythm could be observed. Su Wanqing's wind-wood Qi helped stabilize several weaker disciples, while Feng Jiu'er watched the front with sharp calm. Li Shan and Luo Chen guarded the right side, and Han Zhi remained close enough to Bai Qing to support her if she lost footing.
Fang Lin walked at the rear, appearing quiet and cautious.
In truth, his eyes were studying the river.
After twenty stones, he discovered the first pattern.
The stones did not move randomly. Every seven breaths, the current shifted beneath them. The larger stones moved first, then the smaller ones followed. It looked chaotic only because the river mist concealed the timing.
After thirty stones, he discovered the second pattern.
The river attacked those whose Qi surged suddenly. The moment a disciple panicked and released too much power, the mist around that disciple thickened. The river was not only testing balance. It was baiting fear.
After forty stones, Fang Lin discovered the third pattern.
There were things beneath the water.
They moved slowly, but they were following the group.
A faint smile touched Fang Lin's mouth.
It disappeared before anyone saw it.
So this was the trial's method. It let people cross halfway, waited until their confidence rose and their retreat became difficult, then struck from below. Ordinary cultivators would only notice when the river opened beneath their feet.
Fang Lin did not warn the group immediately.
A warning would make everyone tense. Tension would make their Qi unstable, and unstable Qi would attract the river faster. Since the river wanted to play patiently, Fang Lin did not mind playing with it.
He quietly took out a low-grade recovery pill from his storage treasure. It was one of the ordinary pills he had obtained from previous spoils, not valuable enough to pity. With a flick of his finger, he sent it rolling across a nearby floating stone. The movement was small and hidden beneath the mist, as if it had fallen accidentally.
The pill touched the stone, rolled once, and dropped toward the river.
Before it hit the water, the surface opened.
A grey mouth full of black teeth shot upward and swallowed the pill.
Several disciples turned their heads in alarm.
Fang Lin's expression changed just enough to look surprised. "Something is below."
Murong Yue stared at him. "Did you drop that pill by accident?"
Fang Lin looked at the river. "Naturally."
Her eyes narrowed. "Why do I not want to believe you?"
"Because you are wise."
Murong Yue froze for a moment, then nearly laughed despite the danger.
Feng Jiu'er turned back and looked at Fang Lin. Her eyes were sharp, but there was also a faint helplessness in them. She had seen enough to know that Shen Mo had probably baited the thing on purpose. What annoyed her was that he had done it with such a calm face that even blaming him felt slightly unreasonable.
The river did not give them time to speak.
The moment one creature revealed itself, more shadows moved beneath the water. The grey-black surface bulged in several places, and long shapes began circling the floating stones. Their bodies were like fish made of ash and bone, but their mouths were too wide and their eyes burned with dim white light.
Su Wanqing's expression tightened. "Ashbone River Beasts."
Feng Jiu'er raised her sword. "Do not scatter. Move according to rhythm. Attack only when they surface."
The first Ashbone River Beast lunged toward the left line.
Su Wanqing's sleeve moved.
"Willow Wind Binding Seal."
Wind-wood Qi twisted into a binding strand and wrapped around the beast's head. The creature thrashed violently, splashing grey water toward the disciples. One drop landed on a disciple's protective Qi and burned through it with a hiss.
The disciple's face changed.
Before the beast could bite down, Feng Jiu'er's sword light arrived.
"Crimson Leaf Sword."
A crimson arc cut through the mist and severed the beast's head. Its body collapsed into the river, where the water swallowed it as if nothing had happened.
More beasts surfaced.
The right line came under attack next. Zhao Feng cut one beast with his blade, but the force of the impact made the floating stone beneath him tilt. His eyes widened, and his body leaned toward the river.
Han Zhi reached for him, but another beast lunged from the side.
Fang Lin moved.
"Black Mountain Lock."
A heavy pressure descended on the lunging beast and forced its head down for a breath and locked it in place. Fang Lin stepped forward at the same time, his foot landing on the edge of a floating stone.
"Stone Vein Crushing Step."
The stone beneath him sank sharply, and the force passed through the river surface. The beast beneath the water trembled as its movement rhythm shattered. Zhao Feng used that moment to regain his footing, while Han Zhi struck down with a palm and pushed the second beast away.
Zhao Feng exhaled, his face pale. "I owe you again."
Fang Lin glanced at him. "Then stand properly. Debts are troublesome to collect from dead people."
Zhao Feng's mouth opened, but he could not find a reply.
Murong Yue looked at Fang Lin with bright eyes. "Fellow Daoist Shen, you are very honest when saving people."
"I prefer practical accounting."
"Accounting?"
"If I save too many people, someone should at least remember it."
This time, even Li Shan nearly failed to keep a straight face due to Fang Lin's shamelessness.
Feng Jiu'er heard the exchange from the front. A faint emotion moved across her eyes, but it vanished quickly. Shen Mo's words were shameless, yet strangely not offensive. He sounded as if he truly had calculated the matter and found death to be inconvenient for everyone involved.
The crossing became more dangerous.
The river beasts attacked in waves, not strong enough to overwhelm Feng Jiu'er or Su Wanqing directly, but clever enough to target the weaker disciples and the gaps between stones. Fang Lin did not reveal great power. He did something far more irritating to the river. Every time a beast prepared to attack from a blind spot, he shifted a step, dropped pressure at the right moment, or used a cheap item as bait to make it expose itself early.
After the third baited attack, Murong Yue stared at him.
"Fellow Daoist Shen, how many useless pills do you carry?"
Fang Lin spread his hands and replied calmly, "Enough to disappoint many river beasts."
Bai Qing could not hold back a small laugh this time.
The river seemed to grow angrier.
The mist thickened.
The floating stones began moving faster, and the current beneath them turned chaotic. The group had already crossed more than half the river. The far shore was visible through the mist, but the final section had fewer stones and wider gaps. Worse, the river beasts no longer attacked one by one. They began gathering beneath the front line.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed.
The river was not targeting the rear anymore.
It was targeting Feng Jiu'er.
At the front, Feng Jiu'er sensed the danger at almost the same time. Her crimson aura rose, and pale-green Qi spread beneath her feet. She stepped onto the next floating stone and raised her sword.
"Verdant Flame Lotus Guard."
A layered veil of green and crimson light spread outward, shielding the disciples behind her from the mist. The technique was newly obtained, yet in her hands it already showed shape. It was not perfect, but it was stable enough to burn away the ash poison pressing toward the group.
The river beasts below suddenly sank.
For one breath, the river became quiet.
Fang Lin's expression changed slightly.
A quiet enemy was more dangerous than a roaring one.
The next instant, the stone beneath Feng Jiu'er cracked.
Not tilted.
Cracked.
A massive Ashbone River Beast burst from directly below, its body twice the size of the others. Its mouth opened wide enough to swallow a person whole, and the grey water around it rose like a wall. Feng Jiu'er's sword moved instantly, but she had just spread her defense to protect the disciples behind her. Her Qi was extended outward, and withdrawing it would expose the group to the ash mist.
If she protected herself, the disciples behind her would suffer.
If she protected them, she would be struck.
Feng Jiu'er chose without hesitation.
She held the defensive veil steady.
Her eyes turned cold, and her sword slashed downward.
"Burning Bamboo Line."
The crimson-green sword line cut into the beast's upper jaw, but the creature did not stop. Its body was too large, and the river beneath it was pushing it forward with terrifying force.
Fang Lin's gaze became sharp.
In that instant, he forgot calculation for half a breath.
His body moved before his thoughts finished forming.
"Stone Vein Crushing Step."
He stepped across three floating stones in succession, each step landing with a dull sound that sank into the river like a hammer striking an invisible drum. The stones trembled, the current twisted, and the beast's rising force slowed by a fraction.
That fraction was not enough.
So Fang Lin raised his hand.
The air around him sank.
It was not a loud movement. It did not release dazzling light. It was only one palm pressing forward, but in that instant, the nearby disciples felt as if the shadow of a black mountain had appeared above the river.
"Black Mountain Descent."
The pressure fell. A mountain-like pressure formed in the surroundings.
The massive Ashbone River Beast froze mid-lunge for one breath, its huge mouth only a few feet from Feng Jiu'er. Its white eyes flickered with savage confusion, as if it could not understand why the air itself had become heavy enough to crush its bones.
Fang Lin reached Feng Jiu'er at the same time.
He did not strike the beast again.
He grabbed Feng Jiu'er by the waist and pulled her back.
The movement was too sudden.
Feng Jiu'er's body stiffened instantly. Her back almost touched his chest, and for a moment, the crimson aura around her trembled out of rhythm. Fang Lin's arm was steady, and his grip was not rough, but it carried a certainty that allowed no refusal. It was the grip of someone who had already decided she would not fall.
The river beast broke free from the pressure and crashed down where Feng Jiu'er had stood. Grey water exploded upward, hissing against the defensive veil she had left behind. Several disciples cried out, but Su Wanqing reacted quickly and stabilized the formation.
Fang Lin released Feng Jiu'er the moment they landed on the next stone.
Feng Jiu'er turned sharply.
Her face was still calm, but her ears had turned faintly red. She pushed him away with one hand, not hard enough to injure, but very clearly.
"Fellow Daoist Shen," she said, her voice still steady but lower than usual, "there are other ways to rescue someone."
Fang Lin looked at her and replied with complete seriousness, "Yes, but those ways are too slow. My apologies."
Murong Yue, who had just landed nearby, almost slipped.
Zhao Feng's eyes widened, and he looked as if he had discovered a secret more shocking than the ruins themselves.
Bai Qing lowered her head immediately, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her.
Even Su Wanqing's expression became slightly strange before she turned back toward the river.
Feng Jiu'er stared at Fang Lin for a breath. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but the words did not come. The feeling from that moment had been too familiar. Not his face. Not his voice. Not even his aura. It was the timing, the silence, and the way he acted first and explained later.
For some reason, she thought of Fang Lin.
That idiot had also been like this.
He would do something reckless, then look calm afterward as if the entire matter had been perfectly reasonable. He would make people worry, then pretend he had only done what needed to be done. The memory made her chest tighten, and for an instant, the Shen Mo before her seemed to overlap with the young man who had left only a note behind.
Feng Jiu'er forced the thought down.
Impossible.
Fang Lin could not be Shen Mo.
Fang Lin had been much weaker when he left. Even if he had broken through, he should not possess such calm control in a place like this. Shen Mo was a Late Spirit Foundation rogue cultivator with mysterious origins, and Fang Lin was a Green Bamboo Sect disciple who had walked out alone to train.
Yet the doubt did not vanish.
It only sank deeper.
The massive Ashbone River Beast rose again, wounded but not dead. Its broken jaw released a hoarse roar, and the river around it surged violently.
Fang Lin turned back toward it.
His expression was calm, but his eyes were cold. This creature had nearly forced Feng Jiu'er into danger while she was protecting others. It was only a river beast, but Fang Lin had never needed a human enemy to become ruthless.
He had exposed some of this strength.
He stepped forward.
Feng Jiu'er's eyes changed slightly. "Do not use too much strength."
Fang Lin glanced at her. "I know."
His tone was calm, but there was a faint edge beneath it.
He did know.
He knew exactly how much strength Shen Mo should reveal.
He also knew exactly how to kill something without letting others see how deep the blade truly went.
The beast lunged.
Fang Lin did not retreat.
"Black Mountain Lock."
The river beast's head sank as invisible pressure wrapped around it. It struggled violently, and the river tried to help it rise. Fang Lin's eyes narrowed. He stepped sideways, landing on a floating stone that had just drifted into position.
"Stone Vein Crushing Step."
The force entered the stone, passed into the current, and struck the beast's lower body through the river. Its movement broke for a breath. Fang Lin lifted his palm, and the pressure around him gathered again.
"Black Mountain Breaking Palm."
The palm struck forward.
There was no dazzling light, only a heavy force that slammed into the beast's already wounded jaw. The creature's skull collapsed inward, and its huge body crashed into the river. Grey-black water rolled violently, then swallowed it whole.
The cavern became quiet for a moment.
The Alliance disciples stared at Fang Lin.
The attack had not exceeded Late Spirit Foundation level. It had not revealed anything impossible. Yet the timing, control, and killing decisiveness made the result feel far more oppressive than the power itself. It was as if the beast had not merely been defeated, but had stepped into a judgment prepared for it from the beginning.
Fang Lin withdrew his hand and looked toward the far shore.
"Move. The river will not mourn it for long."
His words woke everyone.
Feng Jiu'er looked at his side profile for a moment longer before turning away. Her face had returned to calm, but the faint redness near her ears had not completely faded. Murong Yue saw it and smiled so brightly that Li Shan quietly took half a step away from her, as if avoiding future trouble.
The group crossed the final section quickly.
Without the massive beast blocking them, the remaining river beasts no longer dared to attack directly. A few circled beneath the water, but each time they neared the surface, Fang Lin's gaze moved toward them. No pressure was released, no skill was used, yet the beasts sank back into the river as if they had remembered something unpleasant.
When the group finally reached the far shore, several disciples collapsed into sitting positions, breathing heavily.
Zhao Feng wiped cold sweat from his forehead. "I hate rivers now."
Murong Yue looked at him. "You hated silence earlier."
"I can hate more than one thing."
"That is growth."
Zhao Feng opened his mouth, then closed it. After surviving Silent Steps Hall, he had learned that sometimes silence was safer.
Fang Lin stood near the riverbank and looked back at the Ashen River. His expression remained calm, but his heart was not as still as it seemed. The hidden heat beneath Blackstone Trial Peak, the death Qi inside the river, the trials that seemed ordinary but carried deeper patterns, and the faint reactions of his own cultivation all pointed toward something buried beneath this region.
The ordinary legacies were bait. The real secret was deeper inside. He had to earth them out.
And judging from the structure of the trials, it was not waiting for the kindest person, nor the strongest person.
It was waiting for someone who could see through the rules and still dare to step beyond them.
Fang Lin's lips curved faintly.
If the ruins wanted a person like that, then perhaps it had chosen a troublesome opponent.
Feng Jiu'er walked to his side, keeping a proper distance this time. She looked at the river instead of him.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Fang Lin glanced at her. "For saving you, or for choosing the faster method?"
Feng Jiu'er's expression froze slightly.
Then she turned her head and looked at him.
For a moment, Fang Lin thought she might draw her sword.
Instead, she said calmly, "For not letting my disciples fall."
Fang Lin's faint smile disappeared, replaced by a quiet seriousness.
"They follow you," he said. "If you fall because of them, they will carry that weight longer than any wound."
Feng Jiu'er's eyes moved.
Those words struck deeper than she expected.
She looked at Shen Mo, but once again, Fang Lin's shadow appeared in her thoughts. The feeling was faint, unreasonable, and stubborn. She did not know whether it was because she missed Fang Lin, or because Shen Mo truly carried something similar. She sighed and muttered, "Its not him..."
Before she could speak further, Su Wanqing's voice came from ahead.
"Senior Sister Feng, there is another path."
Everyone looked forward.
Beyond the riverbank stood a narrow stone gate. Unlike the previous trial doors, this one was half-buried in ash. Its surface was covered with old claw marks, and above it hung a broken plaque.
Demon Echo Valley.
A cold wind blew from within the gate.
It carried faint laughter.
Not human laughter.
Fang Lin looked at the gate, and his eyes slowly sharpened.
Ashen River Crossing had tested balance, courage, and the weight of greed.
Demon Echo Valley would likely test something worse.
And somewhere behind these trials, beneath ordinary rewards and hidden rules, the true secret of Blackstone Trial Peak was still waiting.
Fang Lin stepped away from the riverbank, his black-grey robes moving lightly in the cold wind.
He had hidden enough to remain Shen Mo.
But hiding did not mean being passive.
If this ruin wanted to test him, then he would let it test.
If it wanted to bargain, he would bargain.
If it wanted to devour, he would see whose appetite was greater.
-