The stone gate to Demon Echo Valley was narrow enough that only two people could enter side by side. The moment Feng Jiu'er stepped through, the cold laughter beyond the gate stopped as if someone had pressed a hand over the mouth of the darkness.
Fang Lin followed with the Alliance group, his black-grey robes moving lightly in the wind. The air inside the valley was much colder than the riverbank outside. It did not carry the damp chill of Ashen River Crossing, but a dry, piercing cold that scraped against the mind. The ground beneath them was dark red, like stone stained by old blood, and the cliffs on both sides rose high into the shadows. Countless small holes covered those cliffs, each one shaped like a mouth frozen open.
No one spoke for several breaths.
"Welcome."
Then the valley spoke first.
The voice came from every direction at once. It sounded old, hoarse, and amused, like something that had watched many cultivators enter and very few leave with steady hearts.
Zhao Feng's hand tightened around his blade. "Did the valley just greet us?"
Murong Yue looked at him. "You greeted the river earlier. It is only fair."
Zhao Feng's expression stiffened. "That river tried to eat me."
"Then perhaps this valley is more polite."
Feng Jiu'er raised her hand, and the two of them immediately quieted. Her expression was calm, but the crimson aura around her body had already become more focused. She did not release much pressure, yet her presence steadied the Alliance disciples behind her.
On a broken stone wall ahead, ancient words slowly appeared.
Demon Echo Valley. The first echo reveals a thought. The second echo disturbs the heart. The third echo wears a face. Those who cannot recognize themselves shall remain here as voices for the next ones who enter.
The expressions of the Alliance disciples changed.
Silent Steps Hall had already tested their hearts once. Now this Demon Echo Valley seemed to go further. It did not merely whisper. It imitated, disturbed, and perhaps even took form.
Su Wanqing frowned slightly. "This trial may attack the soul."
Feng Jiu'er nodded. "Stay close. Do not chase any voice. If an echo takes form, confirm before attacking. The valley may use familiar faces to separate us."
Fang Lin listened quietly.
A trial that attacked the soul was dangerous for most Spirit Foundation cultivators, but to him, it was not necessarily a disadvantage. His Soul Metamorphosis Technique had already reached Late Stage Solid Soul State. As long as he did not reveal too much, the valley might become less of a danger and more of a mirror.
Of course, mirrors could still cut if handled carelessly.
The group advanced.
The first echo came after less than fifty steps.
It was not loud. It simply appeared beside each person, using their own voice to speak a thought they had hidden.
A disciple near the rear suddenly heard his own voice whisper, "I should not have entered."
His face went pale.
Another disciple heard, "If danger comes, I will run first."
His breathing became chaotic, and several nearby cultivators glanced at him with ugly expressions.
Bai Qing's steps slowed for half a breath. Fang Lin did not know what she heard, but he saw her fingers tremble before Han Zhi moved closer to her. Han Zhi did not speak, but his presence helped her steady herself.
Murong Yue's smile vanished briefly.
Then she heard her own voice whisper, "If I smile first, no one will know I am afraid."
For once, Murong Yue did not immediately turn the moment into a joke. Her eyes lowered slightly, but only for a breath. When she raised them again, the playful curve of her lips returned, though it was sharper than before.
Li Shan heard something as well. His expression remained calm, but his grip on his sword tightened.
Fang Lin's echo came quietly.
"You enjoy hiding."
His steps remained steady.
A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. It was not wrong. Hiding was useful. The heavens gave faces to men, and cultivators spent their entire lives learning when to wear them and when to remove them. If the valley thought that was a weakness, then its understanding was shallow.
Feng Jiu'er's steps slowed slightly.
The echo beside her spoke in her own voice.
"It is not him."
Her expression did not change much, but her fingers tightened around her sword hilt.
Fang Lin heard it.
So did Murong Yue.
Murong Yue's eyes immediately became interested, but she wisely said nothing. She had learned from Silent Steps Hall that some words were more dangerous after they left the mouth.
Fang Lin looked ahead as if he had heard nothing.
His face remained calm, but inwardly, he gave a quiet sigh. Feng Jiu'er's suspicion had not disappeared. It was only being pressed down by reason. That was troublesome, but not entirely bad. A fool who suspected him would be easy to mislead. Feng Jiu'er was not a fool, which meant any lie had to be fed carefully, like medicine given to someone who knew the taste of poison.
The second echo arrived deeper in the valley.
This time, the voices did not speak thoughts. They used familiar tones.
Someone heard his master scolding him.
Someone heard his mother crying.
Zhao Feng suddenly cursed under his breath and swung his blade toward the side. His attack hit empty air, and the echo of a child laughing spread from the cliffs.
Li Shan immediately grabbed his shoulder. "Calm down."
Zhao Feng's face was dark. "It used my little brother's voice."
Murong Yue's expression softened for a moment, but she only said, "Then do not give it a second chance."
Fang Lin's echo came with Uncle Wei's voice again, but this time the valley had learned from Silent Steps Hall. The tone was closer. The casual warmth was almost there, and even the faint teasing rhythm sounded familiar.
"Little Lin, you still like walking into dangerous places."
Fang Lin's eyes turned calm.
Too calm.
He did not stop. He did not answer. His soul remained still, like a deep lake under winter ice.
The Soul Metamorphosis Technique moved quietly within him. The echo brushed against his mind and found no loose thread to pull. It could imitate Uncle Wei's voice, but it could not imitate the weight of the years behind it. A voice without memory was only a painted door. It might look real, but it could not open.
The echo faded.
At that moment, the valley became silent.
The silence lasted ten breaths.
Then the third echo arrived.
The holes along the cliffs began to breathe out black mist. The mist gathered in front of the group, twisting into human shapes. At first they were vague, but their features slowly sharpened. Soon, each mist figure began to resemble someone from the Alliance group.
A second Zhao Feng appeared with the same blade.
A second Murong Yue appeared with the same smile.
A second Li Shan appeared with the same calm expression.
The Alliance disciples immediately grew tense.
Feng Jiu'er's gaze sharpened. "Do not panic. These echoes copy shape and surface aura. They are not truly us."
The second Murong Yue smiled at the real Murong Yue and raised her hidden blade.
The real Murong Yue looked at it for a moment, then smiled back. "It copied my face, but not my charm."
Zhao Feng could not help saying, "Is that what matters right now?"
"It matters always."
The echo moved.
"Moon-Sleeve Cut."
Both Murong Yue and her echo attacked at almost the same time, their blades flashing from their sleeves. The two figures crossed, and sparks scattered in the air. The echo had copied the movement, but its timing was slightly stiff. Murong Yue saw the flaw immediately and turned her wrist.
"Moon-Sleeve Cut."
Her second strike came from a sharper angle and cut through the echo's shoulder. The echo scattered into black mist, and Murong Yue landed lightly with a satisfied smile. "Fake things should learn humility."
The battle erupted across the valley.
Li Shan faced his own echo, sword against sword. Zhao Feng fought a blade-wielding copy that attacked more recklessly than he did, which made him look both irritated and personally offended. Su Wanqing calmly restrained three lesser echoes with wind-wood Qi, while Bai Qing and Han Zhi supported each other against their mirrored forms.
Fang Lin's echo formed last.
It wore Shen Mo's face.
Black-grey robes. Calm eyes. Late Spirit Foundation aura. The same quiet pressure around the body.
The echo looked at Fang Lin and spoke in his voice. "A stolen face. A hidden name. A heart full of knives."
Several nearby disciples turned slightly.
Feng Jiu'er's eyes moved toward Fang Lin.
Fang Lin did not show panic. Instead, he looked at the echo with faint interest.
"You talk too much," he said.
The echo raised its hand.
"Black Mountain Lock."
Invisible pressure fell toward Fang Lin.
The disciples nearby were startled. The echo had actually copied his suppression technique.
Fang Lin did not retreat. He allowed the pressure to descend until it was almost touching him. Then he stepped sideways half a pace. The movement looked simple, but it placed him exactly where the pressure was weakest.
"Stone Vein Crushing Step."
His foot landed on the valley floor, and the ground beneath the echo trembled. The echo's copied Black Mountain Lock shook immediately. It had copied the shape of the technique, but not the foundation behind it. It understood pressure, but not weight. It understood movement, but not rhythm.
Fang Lin's eyes were calm as he raised his palm.
A mountain did not need to explain why it was heavy.
"Black Mountain Descent."
The pressure fell.
The echo's body sank violently, its knees bending under the invisible weight. It tried to imitate the same move, but the crushed rhythm beneath its feet made its Qi flow stagger. The copied technique collapsed before it fully formed.
Murong Yue, who had just finished her own battle, stared with bright eyes. "He is beating himself."
Zhao Feng shouted from nearby while blocking his echo's blade, "Is that supposed to be impressive or frightening?"
Li Shan replied without looking away from his opponent, "Both."
Fang Lin walked toward his echo.
The fake Shen Mo struggled to rise. Its face remained calm, but its eyes had lost the depth of the original. That was the flaw of imitation. It could wear a face, but it could not carry a life.
The echo suddenly changed tactics. Its body split into three misty afterimages, each one rushing toward Fang Lin from a different direction.
Fang Lin smiled faintly.
"Copies become desperate faster than people."
His right hand moved.
"Black Mountain Lock."
The first afterimage froze.
His foot shifted.
"Stone Vein Crushing Step."
The second afterimage shattered as its movement rhythm broke.
Then Fang Lin lifted his palm and struck the third without looking at it directly.
"Black Mountain Breaking Palm."
The palm force landed on the echo's chest. There was no burst of light, no unnecessary display, and no wasted motion. The echo collapsed inward, then exploded into black mist.
The valley became a little quieter.
Fang Lin withdrew his hand and calmly brushed a speck of dust from his sleeve.
Murong Yue looked at him as if she had discovered a new kind of dangerous entertainment. "Fellow Daoist Shen, you were very familiar with defeating yourself."
Fang Lin replied, "I understand my bad habits."
Zhao Feng almost missed a block because of that sentence.
Even Feng Jiu'er's eyes flickered.
She had seen many people fight echoes before. Most became disturbed when facing a copy of themselves. Some grew angry. Some hesitated. Some tried to overpower the echo directly. Shen Mo did none of those things. He watched, let the echo reveal its flaw, then crushed it without wasting strength.
That method was too calm.
Too sly.
Too similar to someone who always seemed to stand one step outside the situation, even while standing in the middle of it.
Feng Jiu'er's echo appeared then.
It stepped out from the black mist near the cliff wall.
The echo wore her white-red robes, held a crimson sword, and carried her noble, slightly cold expression. Its aura looked almost identical, but its eyes were empty. It looked at Feng Jiu'er and spoke softly.
"You are still waiting."
Feng Jiu'er's expression turned cold.
The echo continued, "He left with only a note. You tell yourself he had reasons, but you still wonder why he did not trust you enough to say farewell."
The surrounding air tightened.
Several Alliance disciples immediately looked away, not daring to listen too obviously. Murong Yue's expression also changed. This was no longer a joke.
Fang Lin stood not far away, his gaze lowered slightly. And his heart was in Chaos. So was Feng Jiu'er's.
The echo had struck exactly where it hurt.
Feng Jiu'er raised her sword. Crimson aura rose around her, but this time the flame was colder than before.
"Crimson Leaf Sword."
Her sword light swept forward.
The echo raised its sword and used the same technique. Two crimson arcs collided in midair, scattering sparks across the valley. The echo had copied her sword art well, but Feng Jiu'er's attack carried anger beneath restraint. It was sharper, heavier, and more real.
The echo retreated half a step.
Then it smiled with Feng Jiu'er's face.
"What if Shen Mo is only another person who will leave?"
Feng Jiu'er's eyes narrowed.
The echo's sword flashed toward her heart.
Fang Lin's gaze turned cold.
He did not rush to her side this time. After the Ashen River, doing so again would only make things worse. Instead, his fingers moved slightly.
"Black Mountain Lock."
The echo's sword slowed for a breath.
One breath was enough.
Feng Jiu'er's eyes sharpened, and she stepped through the opening.
"Crimson Verdant Line."
A thin red sword line passed through the echo's chest. The echo froze, then cracked from within. Feng Jiu'er followed with a second slash and shattered it completely.
Black mist scattered around her.
She stood where she was, breathing slowly. Her expression remained composed, but Fang Lin could see the emotions beneath it. Anger, embarrassment, longing, and something she refused to name.
She turned her head and looked at him.
Fang Lin met her gaze calmly.
Neither spoke.
Murong Yue glanced between them and wisely decided that even her mouth had limits.
The remaining echoes were destroyed soon after. Once Fang Lin's echo and Feng Jiu'er's echo were gone, the valley's pressure weakened greatly. Su Wanqing restrained two more copies with her seal, Li Shan cut through his echo after finding its timing flaw, and Zhao Feng finally defeated his own copy after realizing that recklessness was easier to punish when seen from the outside.
When Zhao Feng's echo shattered, he stood there breathing hard and muttered, "I am annoying to fight."
Li Shan said, "This is progress."
Zhao Feng turned toward him. "Was that praise?"
"It was an observation."
Murong Yue smiled. "Take what you can get."
The cliffs began to tremble.
The holes shaped like mouths slowly closed, one after another, as if the valley had lost interest in speaking. The black mist withdrew into the ground, and a stone platform rose near the far end of the valley.
On the platform lay several dark pills, each sealed inside a small glass bead, and one palm-sized stone shaped like an ear. The stone was black on the outside but faintly silver within, and it released a strange fluctuation that soothed the soul.
Su Wanqing examined the items carefully. "These pills should remove residual echo Qi from the mind. As for this stone, it seems to be a soul-calming treasure."
The stone suddenly trembled and floated toward Fang Lin.
Everyone looked at him.
Fang Lin looked at the stone, then at the others. His expression was as calm as ever. "It seems the valley felt guilty for making me fight myself."
Murong Yue stared at him.
Then she laughed.
This time, even Bai Qing could not hide her smile.
Feng Jiu'er looked at him with a faintly helpless expression. "Do you always accept treasures so naturally?"
Fang Lin took the stone and said seriously, "If a treasure comes willingly, refusing it would only hurt its feelings."
Zhao Feng opened his mouth, then closed it again. After a moment, he said, "I do not know why, but that almost sounded reasonable."
Li Shan shook his head and sighed. "It did not."
Fang Lin stored the stone away calmly. The Echo-Calming Stone was useful to him. Even if it was not enough to produce a soul breakthrough, it could help polish the stability of his soul and improve his resistance against illusions. More importantly, it had come openly from the trial. No one could accuse him of taking it by force.
That was the best kind of profit.
Feng Jiu'er divided the Echo-Cleansing Pills among the group. After everyone adjusted their breathing and cleared the remaining chill from their minds, the stone gate at the far end of Demon Echo Valley slowly opened.
Beyond it was not another narrow passage.
It was a wide cavern.
At the center of that cavern stood a black lamp hanging in midair, its flame motionless and dark. Around the lamp were broken stone seats arranged in a circle, and on each seat sat a withered corpse in ancient robes.
Above the entrance, three words were carved into the stone.
Black Lamp Hall.
The moment Fang Lin saw the black lamp, his eyes narrowed slightly.
This was the next place marked on the Trial Region Map.
It was also the first place where the air no longer felt like an ordinary trial.
Feng Jiu'er stepped forward, then suddenly stopped.
From another entrance on the opposite side of the cavern, footsteps echoed.
A group of cultivators emerged from the darkness.
Their robes were dark blue, and each carried a sword marked with flowing river patterns. Their auras were sharp, cold, and clearly hostile. They had not come from the Green Bamboo Sect's path.
At the front stood a young man with narrow eyes and a thin smile. His cultivation had reached Late Spirit Foundation Realm, and his sword aura carried a watery chill.
He looked at Feng Jiu'er's group, then at the black lamp, and his smile deepened.
"Well, I wondered who passed through Demon Echo Valley before us. It turns out to be people from the Green Bamboo Sect."
Feng Jiu'er's gaze became cold.
Su Wanqing's expression also changed slightly.
Fang Lin looked at the newcomer and immediately understood.
It was none other than the River Sword Sect.
A subordinate force beneath Heavenly Sword Lake.
The first outside enemy group had appeared.
The young man's gaze swept across the Alliance disciples and paused briefly on Feng Jiu'er. A faint lusty greed flashed through his eyes, not only for her beauty, but for the rewards her group must have obtained.
Then his gaze landed on Fang Lin.
He smiled.
"And a rogue cultivator traveling with them? Interesting. Very interesting."
Fang Lin's expression remained calm and thought, "Enemies definitely meet on a narrow path.
The young man had a keen eye on discernment, he almost knew all the disciples from the Green Bamboo sect.
Inside, however, a faint amusement rose.
After fighting rivers, echoes, and trials, a living enemy had finally appeared.
Compared to ruins, people were simpler.
They had greed.
They had pride.
And once those two things rose, they became very easy to lead.
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