Of Mountains and Rivers 69

It was only on this perilous boat that Chu Huan truly understood the meaning of the sentence ‘The last part of an endeavor is the hardest to finish’.

When a person is pushed to a certain limit, panic is essentially cast aside. Chu Huan sat back slowly into the fishing boat, taking precautions to prevent the 'sea' from toasting his back.

Chu Huan had never dreamed that one day he would find himself in a situation where he was 'about to be burned by seawater.' Even facing death, he felt that he would die with a certain level of style.

Thinking this way, Chu Huan couldn't help but smirk, his resources exhausted.

Nanshan glanced at him and whispered, "It's okay. I can hold on a bit longer."

When Nanshan said this, he seemed both relaxed and understanding, as if he were just a customer at a busy restaurant waiting patiently for his meal. The life-and-death situation in front of him seemed trivial—of course, it would be more convincing if his complexion wasn't so visibly drained.

As he spoke, Nanshan used air currents to envelop the fishing boat, intending to employ the same technique they used in the waterfall, separating water and fire while pushing the boat out.

The difficulty of this maneuver was self-evident. Unlike fire and water, wind could inadvertently fuel the flames. Too much force was risky, and too little was ineffective. While expending tremendous energy, it had to be precisely controlled.

When Nanshan boarded the ship earlier, he already knew he was at the end of his strength. At this moment, he was undoubtedly running on fumes, unsure how much longer he could endure or if he could push the boat out of this flaming sea area.

But he had to, and no one could replace him. Nanshan single-handedly supported the entire fishing boat, and the hand concealed at his side involuntarily trembled.

He bit his tongue fiercely, the taste of blood rising to his brow, forcing himself to recall his people; The Elder, Xiao Fang, Chun Tian, Horsewhip, and the noisy little ones…

However, fate had other plans. As the fishing boat accelerated like a dying flame reigniting, the black shadows surrounding them relentlessly chased. Their pursuits were relentless and persistent, seemingly faster than the boat.

The raging fire also lingered like a haunting spirit. On the sea surface, the spreading firelight resembled volcanic magma, carrying a ferocity that swept all before it, ceaselessly surging outward.

The air currents around the fishing boat were their final barrier, and Nanshan barely held on as it teetered dangerously.

Wind and fire were ruthless. If Nanshan's concentration wavered for a moment, the raging fire would unhesitatingly sweep over this lonely boat on the sea. Given the intensity of the fire, there was no need to consider whether jumping into the sea would be a solution—the wooden boat would surely catch fire, leaving them with no escape.

A deafening roar echoed in Nanshan's ears, and his vision darkened with each passing moment, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Unfazed, he calmly closed his eyes, ensuring his companions wouldn't detect any anomaly.

However, a tightening sensation gripped his chest, each heartbeat feeling like a sledgehammer pounding relentlessly. The hammering grew more intense and painful, as if increasing in weight. Suddenly, a fierce stench surged up Nanshan's throat, and the fishing boat's hull trembled violently.

Nanshan forcibly swallowed back the blood that had risen in his throat. Unable to endure any longer, he grabbed Chu Huan's hand, and placed it on his side.

Even though Nanshan showed no outward signs, the visibly throbbing veins on the back of his hand and the recent violent tremor of the boat were clear indicators of the pressure he was under. As long as Chu Huan wasn't oblivious, he could discern the immense stress Nanshan was enduring.

This couldn’t go on, but what else could they do?

None of the other three could handle this kind of pressure.

Concerned for Nanshan, Chu Huan found it even harder to calm down.

Since the day they entered this predicament, they had endured various mental torments. Now, Chu Huan's brain felt like an outdated computer that hadn't been cleared in ages, filled with countless fragmented thoughts, none of which were applicable in the current situation.

The only items they had on them were the quiver of arrows that had been emptied earlier and not yet replenished. Each person carried a jumble of various weapons. The dagger given to him by Nanshan was of good quality, but its small size limited its use in this extreme environment to little more than cutting fruit. The other swords and blades were all bulky and looked imposing but were impractical—Yuan Ping's long knife had already been bent on its edge.

Apart from some clean water, food, and unknown medications, what else did they have?

It might not be entirely depleted, but they were running out. The enemy had a blazing aircraft carrier, and they were on a measly fishing boat armed with outdated cold weapons. Forget about bulletproof vests or armor, Chu Huan didn't even have a shirt on as  it had been repurposed into a rag to cover his nose.

Despite Chu Huan's deep contemplation, he found himself in a predicament without a solution.

Just as he was about to rub his temples in frustration, Luger suddenly spoke up.

Luger stood still at the stern, his pale skin tinged with a golden-red hue from the firelight. Despite the surroundings, he remained cold like a perennial ice cave.

He turned to glance at Nanshan's faintly greenish face, absentmindedly stroking the hilt of the knife at his waist as if pondering something.

Then Luger turned to Chu Huan and called his name.

Chu Huan was momentarily surprised. Luger rarely called him by his name—initially, it was because their relationship wasn't particularly good, and later, it was because his name was a bit awkward for Luger, who didn't speak Chinese.

Chu Huan, with a serious expression, thought Luger had called him for some discussion about finding a way out of their predicament. To his surprise, Luger merely paused, then calmly nodded at him.

It was the distinctive and aloof etiquette of Patriarch Luger, as if encountering someone casually while going in and out of the courtyard after a meal.

Then, Chu Huan heard Luger speak inexplicably, "Actually, when we reached this point, I didn't know which direction to go anymore. After all, I've never been here personally. There's just an ancient legend that says a fisherman encountered a maritime disaster while fishing, and in a daze, he clung to a piece of drifting wood. When he woke up, he found himself in a place called 'Sunken Star Island,' where 'stardust fell into the sea, and the great waters flowed backward.'"

Chu Huan listened with one ear, a bit puzzled but not delving too deep—now wasn't the time to discuss how to get to Sunken Star Island. Their immediate concern was how to avoid being burnt to a crisp.

This Patriarch of the Gatekeeper probably experienced countless near-death moments. At this critical juncture, every move he made seemed as casual as a leisurely stroll, making it outrageously nonchalant.

After Luger finished speaking and took a moment to reflect, he seemed to feel that he had nothing more to add. He then turned to glance at Yuan Ping.

Luger had low-hanging eyebrows, thick eyelashes, and even a slight curl at the ends… Of course, probably no one had dared to study what the eyelashes of the Patriarch of the Gatekeepers looked like in all these years.

Everyone feared him, respected him, and even his own people rarely saw him smile.

In comparison, Yuan Ping, who had been favored since stepping out of the Sacred Spring, seemed to have some kind of privilege in front of Luger.

Luger spoke casually, "In all these years, the farthest I've gone is the river at the entrance of the Mountain Gate, on the other side of the Mountain Keeper's village. I've never crossed it; each time, I just swayed in the middle of the river and came back. Oh, you haven't been there yet. It's too foggy; you can't see anything… But why are there so many people on the other side? Do people there live for a very long time after they're born?"

Luger seldom spoke, especially in this situation. He shouldn't have so many unrelated sentiments.

Yuan Ping suddenly felt an ominous premonition and anxiously called out, "Patriarch…"

Luger bent down slightly , his cold hand resting on Yuan Ping's head. After waiting for a while, seemingly at a loss for words, he sighed almost inaudibly, "Being a Gatekeeper is not easy. You have to slowly adapt."

After saying this, Luger, as if casually taking a step to the side, suddenly and without warning, jumped into the water.

He was so proud that he didn't care about anyone or anything, not even himself.

In his urgency, Yuan Ping's outstretched hand only grabbed a drifting strand of hair. It twisted and turned before settling in his hand, seemingly still carrying warmth.

Yuan Ping's pupils suddenly dilated, "No…"

In the water, Luger seemed to be smiling slightly. Before the raging fire engulfed him, dark shadows had already enveloped him, like greedy black serpents sweeping over the man's body.

Luger's body froze in that moment, neither sinking nor floating. He resembled a plastic man, placed in a plastic mock sea, moving stiffly and mechanically.

The frozen body remained eerily like a water ghost…

Almost even more so.

Before Chu Huan could react, there was a sudden lightness on his shoulder. The usually affectionate venomous snake Little Green dashed out without hesitation, simultaneously heading towards the stern along with Yuan Ping.

Chu Huan's emotions, delayed by the stress, quickly adapted. He swiftly caught the seven-inch part of the snake with one arm and firmly embraced Yuan Ping with the other, bursting out with a shout, "Calm down!"

Yuan Ping struggled vigorously, causing the boat to sway violently with his movements. In the struggle, Yuan Ping's elbow collided with Chu Huan's stomach, causing him to gasp for breath. The chaotic scene made it difficult for Chu Huan to address both situations. He roared at Yuan Ping's ear, unable to contain his frustration, "Is this the time to seek death or life? You damn…"

However, Yuan Ping seemed oblivious to the roars ringing in his ears. His eyes were bloodshot.

He was deaf, but Nanshan wasn’t.

Despite the intense ringing in his ears, he heard the commotion. Unable to endure any longer, Nanshan tilted his head and vomited blood. Following that, the boat, now out of control, trembled violently again. Roaring flames, accompanied by scorching wind, swept over them like a burning banner.

Chu Huan clamped down on Yuan Ping's neck, forcefully pushing him down, narrowly avoiding the tongues of fire.

Desperate to check on Nanshan at the bow, Chu Huan didn't dare release Little Green and Yuan Ping. His temples throbbed with stress.

At this moment, an eerie wind suddenly swept from the stern, splitting the towering flames on both sides of the boat like Moses parting the sea. Then, a hurricane rose from the sea, completely sweeping away the approaching shadows from both sides, creating a clear path for the fishing boat.

Chu Huan heard Luger's cold and familiar voice in his ear, "No time for nonsense. Go."

Chu Huan called out, “Patriarch Luger…”

The struggling Yuan Ping suddenly stopped. He first turned his head to look at Chu Huan and then anxiously gazed at the sea, hoping to catch fragments of the conversation.

Luger spoke with a flat tone, "You said that being devoured allows one to use the rules here. It seems you were right. I can temporarily hold them back. Hurry and leave."

No wonder he asked that day…

Chu Huan exclaimed, "Your consciousness is still here? But then you…"

Luger grunted, perhaps finding the question a bit foolish, and seemingly annoyed by the unnecessary jabbering. The wind at the stern suddenly intensified, almost lifting the small fishing boat out of the water, and it sped away swiftly.

Chu Huan called out again, “Luger!”

But his voice was swallowed by the wind at the stern, instantly shattered into an almost inaudible sound… Luger truly had no intention of listening.

Only Yuan Ping stood dumbfounded at the stern, staring blankly until both the wall of fire and the man in the water were no longer visible.

Nanshan opened his eyes, leaning against the side of the boat, his gaze appeared lifeless as it pierced through the hazy sky.

Chu Huan silently lifted Nanshan’s head and took the water bottle from around his waist. After a moment’s thought, he added a bit of refreshing and invigorating powder into the water, saying softly, “Take a sip.”

Nanshan's eyeballs moved slightly with his motions, as if unconsciously swallowing a few sips. Then, with a weak tilt of his head, he indicated that he didn't want more.

Chu Huan slowly extended his hand, and seeing no objection from Nanshan, he cautiously pulled Nanshan into his embrace.

He felt an unprecedented sense of helplessness as words had escaped him. After a long while, he scraped together a futile comfort, "We're already at sea. Once we reach Sunken Star Island, we'll find the Sacred Text, alright? Maybe the actual thing is there too. We can burn it when the time comes, right? We still have time, definitely enough time."

“Yeah, I know. It doesn’t matter.” Nanshan seemed to respond just to acknowledge him, smiling mechanically, without saying much.

Then he tilted his head slightly, propping himself up on Chu Huan’s shoulder, and stood up.

Yes, it didn’t matter.

After the sacred mountain and before the sacred water, their fellow clanspeople were still waiting.

Therefore, he had to keep going. Even if it meant walking to death without a complete body and leaving only a pile of fragments, he could never stop.

Just like… the flat people wanting to break through the Mountain Gate, he must step over the corpses of all Gatekeepers.

It was only natural.

"Luger's choice is understandable, very normal," Nanshan thought indifferently. "If there's anyone to blame, it's me for not thinking of this method earlier."

The fishing boat continued forward in the silence of the three.

Later, the surroundings calmed down.

And after that, the force that had been propelling them forward disappeared.

Luger disappeared completely in a place that was visible but unreachable, no longer able to escort them.

Little Green crept up along Yuan Ping's trousers, its long tail wrapping around his body. Its triangular head rested on his shoulder, and it hissed, flicking its tongue, while staring at him.

This time, Yuan Ping didn't shout or hastily shake it off. He stayed still for a moment, slowly raising one hand to tentatively touch the snake. The scales felt as cold as imagined but not sticky.

For the first time in his life, he silently held the snake without making a sound. It wasn’t as terrifying as he had imagined, but he felt uncomfortably powerless as if he were covered in a layer of destitution.

The propulsion force from Luger ceased, forcing them to pick up the oars and awkwardly navigate the fishing boat on the open sea. However, in the vast ocean, where should they search for the legendary island?

Chu Huan, who had been sitting in silence on the ship's side, stood up and took an oar. Suddenly, he spoke, "From now on, we must establish some ground rules. What happened earlier should never happen a second time."

Yuan Ping, feeling somewhat exhausted, glanced up at him, but Chu Huan's gaze was already intense. "Especially you. You have a history."

Yuan Ping sarcastically curled the corner of his mouth, "Do you have a better solution?"

Chu Huan took a deep breath, softening his tone, "I believe we haven't reached a point of no return yet. There's always a way. If we encounter any trouble, give me some time. Can we stop being on guard against each other in such situations?"

Both Nanshan and Yuan Ping remained silent, as the aftermath left by Luger's departure became glaringly apparent.

Chu Huan turned to look at the dark expanse of the sea in the distance. The water moved in a rhythmic pattern, and after a long silence, he spoke softly with his back turned to the two on the boat, "I’m begging you two, please?"

Nanshan couldn't bear it any longer, but sticking to his principles, he replied, "Fine. We won't do it again unless it's absolutely necessary."

Yuan Ping, suppressing his urge to coldly laugh, refrained from pointing out that Chu Huan had faced many desperate situations before. However, in the end, he didn't add more fuel to the fire.

The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back after a moment. Eventually, Yuan Ping nonchalantly nodded, "Hmm, any ideas on where to go?"

Chu Huan tried to row the boat for a while, feeling like he was just spinning in place. He threw the oar aside, forcefully pulled at his own hair, and then silently crouched down by the ship's side, staring fixedly at the sea in front of him.

Although he had been saying things like "not until it's a desperate situation," he was already mentally and physically exhausted. The emotions that had been delayed and suppressed in the face of the crisis were now erupting. Everything felt trapped in his chest.

Chu Huan wanted to scream, "Can't you all just stop asking me?" and then jump off the boat.

That feeling of "I don't want to live anymore" surfaced for the first time since meeting Nanshan.

But despite those thoughts, Chu Huan managed to maintain the appearance of calmness and replied: "I'll think about it first."

He then pretended to ponder with a focused look, staring at the monotonous sea, but his mind was as empty as a fish tank.

At this moment, the boat suddenly rocked without any wind, surprising Chu Huan. He looked at Nanshan in confusion, only to see Nanshan visibly tense, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife.

Nanshan said, “It’s not me.”

All three of them fell silent, each standing in a corner of the fishing boat, and were afraid to move.

However, the boat slowly, autonomously turned at an angle. With the ebb and flow of the waves, Chu Huan said, "Wait a moment, is it the person who carved the inscription? Who are you?"

As Chu Huan's words fell, a gentle breeze inexplicably swept by, lightly brushing across his face.

It felt as if someone had touched his face. The mere thought sent shivers down Chu Huan’s spine, snapping him out of the melancholic mood he had been in just a moment ago.

He abruptly tilted his head backward, avoiding the touch, and stared in bewilderment while thinking, “If you want to show the way, then show the way. What’s with the face-touching?”