339: The mountain gate stands silently.

"Disciple, don't think so far ahead."

Lin Yu let out a yawn. "Heal your injuries first. That drop of spiritual liquid the old fellow fed you just now is good stuff. Hurry up and circulate the Ruoshui Art; don't let it go to waste."

"Also, take the things you saw in that 'dream' and go over them in your mind while the memory is still fresh. That is your greatest harvest from this trip."

Su Ming closed his eyes and began to circulate his Cultivation Technique as instructed.

As the spiritual power flowed through his body, he discovered that his Ruoshui Art seemed to have undergone a subtle change. The spiritual power, which had originally been like a trickling stream, was now more viscous and heavy. As it circulated, it even carried a faint rhythm of the earth's veins.

It was a rhythm that breathed in unison with the earth itself.

"Being alive... is truly good."

Su Ming sighed softly in his heart.

But he knew this was only the beginning... The cloud boat pierced through the layers of clouds, and the dawn light dyed the mist of Reception Peak in shades of half-gold and half-purple.

Su Ming woke up during a slight bump.

He didn't open his eyes immediately but instinctively held his breath, his right index finger imperceptibly hooking toward his sleeve—where a non-existent Formation Flag was hidden. This was a habit he had developed in the ruins of Iron Wall Pass, a muscle memory known as "always being ready to fight for one's life."

"Stop hooking your finger; there are no bugs this time, only a bunch of fellow Disciples."

Lin Yu's voice rang out lazily in his Sea of Consciousness, laced with a bit of teasing, yet missing that usual high-strung tension. "However, you should check your own physical condition first."

Hearing this, Su Ming sank his Divine Thought inward.

At this look, his brow couldn't help but furrow slightly.

The Meridians that had been depleted and even somewhat shriveled due to the use of 'Beacon' were now wrapped in a faint golden light membrane. That was no ordinary spiritual power, but an aura that was heavier and more ancient. The Ruoshui Art within his body was still circulating on its own, but the Water Spiritual Energy flowing through his Meridians was no longer simply supple; it had gained a resilience, as if an underground river were washing over rocks.

Every cycle of spiritual power triggered an extremely subtle rhythm at his Dantian Qi Sea.

Thump. Thump.

It didn't sound like a heartbeat, but rather like the mountains breathing; the pulse of the earth had been miniaturized into this mortal fleshly body.

The border guarding true seal floated quietly in the center of his Qi Sea like a sleeping star. Following Su Ming's breathing, it inhaled and exhaled the surrounding Spiritual Qi, converting it into that special spiritual power with earth vein attributes to nourish his entire body.

His originally broken ribs had already healed, becoming even harder than before.

"Feels different, doesn't it?"

Lin Yu's voice came at the right time. "If your spiritual power was 'stream water' before—flexible but lacking strength—now this thing has mixed 'sand' and 'iron filings' into it. That old man used his own Golden Core as a furnace to refine the earth vein essence of half of Iron Wall Pass into this seal. Now it's all to your benefit, kid."

Su Ming slowly exhaled a mouthful of turbid air and opened his eyes.

Deep within his pupils, a flash of light interwoven with deep blue and faint gold flickered and vanished.

"It's just a blessing in disguise," Su Ming responded in his heart, his tone so calm that no joy or anger could be heard. "This blessing is too heavy; it crushed tens of thousands of people to death. I'm just the lucky survivor who picked up the scraps."

Lin Yu was silent for a moment, then sighed softly. "Luck is also a type of strength. Alright, pull yourself together and stop being so gloomy. The boat has stopped. If the people outside see you looking like you're at a funeral, they'll probably make up some story about 'Su Ming being scared out of his wits on the front line'."

Su Ming straightened his collar.

That green Outer Sect Disciple robe had long since lost its original color, caked with dark red blood scabs, and several charred holes had been burned into the cuffs by sparks. But he didn't change it; he simply reached out and patted away the long-dried dust.

"Let's go."

Su Ming stood up, his pace not fast, but exceptionally steady... Reception Peak Plaza.

Hundreds of Disciples wearing robes of various colors were already waiting here. Among them were Outer Sect Menial Workers, Inner Sect elites, and even several Deacons who were usually elusive had made an appearance.

The news of the Iron Wall Pass tragedy was like a frigid wind, sweeping through the entire Cloud Hidden Sect overnight.

"I heard that of the Technical Assistants who went along this time, only one came back?"

"Isn't that right? Even a Golden Core Elder perished. That Su Ming is lucky to be alive..."

"Lucky? I heard from the grapevine that some big shot is protecting him. And... he seems to have brought back something incredible."

The sounds of discussion buzzed like mosquitoes; though voices were lowered, they were exceptionally piercing in the silence of the early morning.

As the massive Cloud-Piercing Warship overhead slowly descended, the airflow swirled the fallen leaves on the plaza, and everyone's gaze focused on the slowly lowering hatch door.

The first to walk out was Li Changfeng.

This Golden Core Elder, who was usually quite gentle, now had a face as solemn as water. His dark gold robe flapped in the wind, and he exuded an aura of killing intent that warned others not to approach. His gaze swept across the field like a hawk's; the originally noisy crowd suddenly seemed to have their throats seized, and all the discussions came to a dead stop.

Immediately following...

A slightly thin figure stepped out from the shadows behind Li Changfeng.

There was no high-spiritedness as one might imagine, nor were there tears of joy from surviving a disaster.

Su Ming simply walked out.

The morning sunlight spilled over him but could not shine through that blood-stained green robe. His face was still somewhat pale, but his eyes were as calm as a bottomless ancient well, without the slightest ripple.

A momentary freeze occurred in the plaza.

Those gazes that were originally filled with scrutiny, jealousy, or curiosity all instinctively flinched when they touched the thick layer of blood scabs on Su Ming's body.

That was the Evil Qi that only someone who had truly crawled out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood would possess.