Of Mountains and Rivers 72

Freed from the threat of shadows, Chu Huan untied the rope wrapped around his wrist and took a thorough stroll on the Sunken Star Island. Despite the radiant sunlight, the atmosphere felt far from cheerful or harmonious.

Firstly, the sunlit island appeared devoid of higher life forms, with only some half-dead moss and small patches of grass covering the terrain. Feeble insects buzzed amidst the grass, and hardly any trees dotted the landscape. As Chu Huan circled the island, he noticed only a few rare vine plants—all of them, without exception, were already lifeless.

The second peculiarity lay in the "ground."

By logical deduction, Chu Huan presumed the entire island was naturally connected to the underwater mountain. However, when he accidentally scraped away a thin layer of sand, he discovered the material beneath was not the expected rocks and soil.

Squatting down, Chu Huan tapped and probed the ground for a while but couldn't discern its geological composition. The ground was made of an unfamiliar stone, deep gray verging on black, with a dull appearance that resisted any attempt to shine. Yet, it was remarkably resilient.

Strangely, the gray stone showed no visible cracks.

Chu Huan grabbed a dead vine and began cleaning, sweeping away the sand to expose more of the ground. He closely scrutinized the unique geological conditions, clearing an area of several dozen meters but finding no traces of seams.

Whoever crafted this island possessed unparalleled skill and seamlessness.

Even in the grandest palaces, seams could be seen between large blocks of marble!

Moreover, after years of weathering and temperature fluctuations, how could these stones remain completely crack-free?

It was perplexing…

Chu Huan pondered over it, realizing his glasses seemed to have been lost during the ordeal, preventing him from closely examining the situation with his magnifying glass.

Aside from this mystery, the Sunken Star Island was cleaner than his pockets. The only enigma remaining was the "water mountain."

Upon his return from the stroll, Chu Huan noticed Yuan Ping still sleeping, prompting him to deliver a forceful kick to his buttocks. "Class is over, and you're still sleeping!" he chided sternly.

Startled, Yuan Ping, feigning death alongside the snake on the ground, jolted awake. One hand clutched a knife with fierce intent, while the other raised its neck, revealing sharp teeth.

Anxiously, Yuan Ping inquired, "What's wrong? What's happening?"

Chu Huan, whistling casually, hands behind his back, strolled past Yuan Ping as if nothing had occurred. Seating himself next to Nanshan, he remarked, "Apart from that mountain with the reversed water flow, I circled elsewhere but found nothing related to the legendary Sacred Text. I also didn't see the big stone you guys were talking about. If anything, the ground we're standing on seems to be quite intact. Perhaps it's a solid piece of stone."

Yuan Ping snapped back to reality, angrily shouting at Chu Huan's retreating figure, "You bastard!"

Little Green, standing firm, quickly hissed in agreement.

Earlier, the two of them had been playing a game of cat and mouse, but now, somehow, they found themselves standing together. Chu Huan glanced back, remembering something, and suddenly burst into laughter. He put one hand on Nanshan's shoulder and pointed at Yuan Ping with the other, saying, "Let me teach you a Chinese idiom – 'a nest of snakes and rats.' It means to work in collusion with one another."

Nanshan sighed, feeling that another battle between the two was about to unfold, and he felt a bit exhausted.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Yuan Ping was already gearing up for a fight. However, halfway through, Yuan Ping seemed to lose interest and dropped his hands as if disappointed.

Yuan Ping felt there should be someone passing by with a cold glance at this moment, calmly reminding him to "be more composed." However, looking around, that person was nowhere to be found.

When Luger was around, he never acted composed, but now that he was gone, his words echoed in Yuan Ping's mind.

When Yuan Ping arrived in this world, Chu Huan carried a past that was no longer relevant to him, while Luger and those gatekeepers, who were swallowed by the darkness, became Yuan Ping’s present roots.

A person with only a past and no present roots, how could he find stability?

At that moment, Yuan Ping recalled Chu Huan's words to him.

He finally admitted to himself that he was indeed not as good as Chu Huan. Yuan Ping thought that if he were in Chu Huan's shoes back then, he might have messed things up, and he might have turned out to be a completely different person. In any case, he wouldn't be like the current Chu Huan, able to speak and laugh, and even annoy people.

Chu Huan had intended to tease Yuan Ping, but a glance at his expression told him he hadn't succeeded. Sighing inwardly, he decided not to play around anymore. When Yuan Ping finally sat down, Chu Huan spoke seriously, "I think we have two options at the moment. The first is to follow the clue of the 'Peak of Sacred Water' and check out this 'water mountain.' Maybe the large stone you mentioned with the recording of the Sacred Text is on the summit. But if it's not there, we'll have to explore the entirety of the island and maybe even go back into the sea."

After some discussion, everyone agreed to first explore the "water mountain." If that didn't yield results, they would consider returning to the sea. After all, a place in the sunlight seemed much safer.

Perhaps it was the sun exposure or maybe a bit of rest, but Chu Huan's emotional turbulence, which had been wildly fluctuating since Luger jumped from the ship, had calmed down quite a bit on the island.

That day, Nanshan decided they would rest for another night—having come this far, there was no harm in sharpening the axe before cutting the wood. They would set out again when they were fully rested.

In the evening, Chu Huan held a rare grass stem from the island, his gaze fixed upon the night sky. Yuan Ping wandered off in a melancholic mood, while Nanshan calmly sharpened his knife nearby.

Amidst the rhythmic sound of knife sharpening, Chu Huan slowly began to organize the memories of his journey so far.

He first pondered the side of the Mountain Gate—meaning the Earth of the 21st century.

Why, when the Mountain Gate shifted to this side, could the Mountain Keepers roam freely throughout the world, but when it moved to the other side, there was a boundary restricting them?

Furthermore, why did the old soldiers who had mistakenly entered the Mountain Keepers' village years ago appear like those swallowed in the Fallen Land, in a state of neither dead nor alive?

These were questions regarding the Mountain Gate side, and there were even more questions regarding this side.

The most pertinent question to Chu Huan was why the old man with the goat face claimed that he had the bloodline of the Gatekeepers running through him.

Chu Huan knew that he wasn’t the biological son of Chu Aiguo, a fact Chu Aiguo never hid from him. Still, Chu Aiguo had always said he was picked up and never specified his origin.

However, considering Chu Huan's age, if he were a child born from a Mountain Keeper and an outsider many years ago, wouldn't those old Mountain Keepers know everything?

Then there was the Fallen Land. Throughout the journey, Chu Huan had made various speculations about "it." Now, he meticulously recalled their experiences after entering the Fallen Land, and he couldn't help but reminisce about the time they were patrolling.

For some indescribable reason, Chu Huan harbored doubts about those creatures that could extinguish the five senses, especially the peculiar combination of the Wangsi Flower and bones. The Wangsi Flower only appeared once near the Fallen Land and was never seen again.

From the flat people to the Wangsi Flower, Chu Huan absent-mindedly turned over, feeling as if there was some hidden meaning behind it.

If he recalled correctly, when the flat people first surrounded the mountain with their Mutayi, Chu Huan had heard them speak with a distinct accent, but it was undeniably close to the language of the Mountain Keepers.

In this light, the design of these little creatures was almost eerily close to humans, so what about the Wangsi Flower…

Chu Huan suddenly sat up, the muscles on his back stretched to the extreme.

The Wangsi Flower emitted a toxin from their petals. Creatures unintentionally drinking water containing the toxin would lose their senses and walk endlessly, eventually transforming into Mirage Monkeys, forming some kind of symbiosis with them.

Given the current situation thus far, it seemed that the devourers in the Fallen Land also, through some method, devoured both humans and creatures, hence forming a symbiotic relationship with them…

Was this similarity a coincidence?

Just then, Chu Huan suddenly heard the vibrations of a heartbeat, coming from beneath his feet.

He stood there, momentarily stunned, as if questioning his own senses. Just as he was about to bend down to inspect the situation more closely, a sudden sharp pain shot through the back of his hand.

With a gasp, Chu Huan lifted his hand in shock. Much like the incident with the stone the other day, his flesh had been cut by something, blood seeping from the engraved words: “Cannot… think…”

He stared at his injured hand, momentarily disregarding the pain. Why couldn’t he think? The guide had never directly harmed him before, so why was it inscribing words on his hand this time?

Could it be because there were things on Sunken Star Island that he couldn’t touch?

His thoughts raced like a floodgate opening, while Nanshan, nearby, caught the scent of blood.

Sensing something wrong, Nanshan grabbed his wrist, blood droplets from Chu Huan's hand flowing onto his own.

Nanshan was immediately angered. He picked up the recently sharpened knife, scanning their surroundings, and demanded, “Who is it? Come out!”

Chu Huan shook his head, wiping his injured hand on the grass to remove the bloodstains. He spoke urgently, “Nanshan, are you ready? Light the torch; we’re going up the mountain now.”

Chu Huan knew he was a bit eccentric but not paranoid; there weren’t many things in the world that could frighten him. Yet, in that moment, he felt a spine-chilling sensation.

Yuan Ping was startled by his urgency. “Fire… where do I find fire? I’ll check for wood nearby.”

In a place where only blades of grass grew, finding dry wood was a challenge.

Nanshan's medicine bag had been ruined by seawater. He emptied it without hesitation, revealing a small package wrapped in oil paper. Inside were flints.

He struck the flints, igniting sparks and reigniting the staff.

They quickly retied the hemp ropes and headed towards the seemingly unattainable “water mountain”.

Initially, Chu Huan suspected there might be a mountain here, with something atop it drawing water from below, creating the illusion of a water curtain. However, after circling the “water mountain” several times, they found no rocky areas.

Chu Huan felt the water mountain seemed familiar but couldn’t recall why. He abandoned the thought, decisively untying the ropes from his wrists and stepping into the water.

Nanshan grabbed him, his tone stern. “What are you trying to do?”

Chu Huan replied, “I've got a sudden idea, but I'm not sure if it's right or wrong. I need to go in and check it out first.”

Nanshan questioned, “You want to dive into the water?”

Chu Huan stayed silent.

Nanshan couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He could somehow read Chu Huan’s mind now, which seemed ominous.

“No way!” Nanshan exclaimed.

“I’ll just take a quick look,” Chu Huan said, “if I can’t touch the core of the mountain even after going in, I’ll come right back.”

With a swift motion, Chu Huan slipped out of Nanshan’s grasp. “Alright, it’s decided,” he declared.

And with that, he plunged headfirst into the water against the mountain. Nanshan tried to grab him, but the rope on his wrist was linked to Yuan Ping, causing a slight tangle that made them trip each other, and Chu Huan disappeared from view.

“Chu Huan!” Nanshan called out.

Yuan Ping remarked casually, “Patriarch Nanshan, it’s rather cruel to flaunt your affection in front of us singles destined for eternal solitude.”

Nanshan attempted to explain, “He…”

Yuan Ping chuckled, “If you keep this up, you might as well tie him to your belt.”

Nanshan was momentarily stunned, considering the idea before realizing it was feasible.

Fortunately, Yuan Ping didn’t notice his fleeting thoughts as he kept his eyes fixed on the spot where Chu Huan had dived. “Honestly,” he sighed, “among all the folks I've met, that scoundrel is the most reliable besides our Patriarch.”

Nanshan hadn’t expected Chu Huan’s reputation to be so high in Yuan Ping’s eyes. “Scoundrel means… ‘best brother’,” he corrected himself.

Yuan Ping laughed, realizing Chu Huan had fooled Nanshan. Remembering the incident where Chu Huan nearly hit his own foot with a stone, he played along, “Actually, I really admire him… Oh, and don’t tell him I said that, or he’ll get even cockier. But rest assured, when he says he’ll take a quick look, he means it. He won’t linger. Look, he’s already out.”

Drenched and bedraggled, Chu Huan emerged from the water mountain, coughing and looking utterly miserable, tears and mucus streaming down his face.

Well, the water in this magical mountain flowed upward; it wasn’t like it was going straight up people’s noses, right?

Yuan Ping could easily picture Chu Huan’s sorry state in the water. Just as he was about to tease him, Chu Huan, ignoring his own near-collapse from coughing, made a retreat gesture with an unpleasant expression.

Nanshan caught him, hearing Chu Huan gasping for breath. “Keep the staff safe,” he managed between coughs. “Make sure it stays lit.”

“What’s inside the ‘water curtain cave’? What did you see?” Yuan Ping pressed on.

Chu Huan tried to answer, but his throat was raw, and he was overcome by a fit of coughing that seemed to wrench at his heart and lungs.

“What water curtain cave? There’s no mountain inside. It’s all water—a mountain made entirely of water, with several sets of human bones submerged,” Chu Huan, struggling with a hoarse voice, continued, “but they might not be real bones. After so many years, any real bones would have dissolved. How could they still be intact…”

Before he could finish, the ground shook violently, centered around the water mountain. The island surged upwards like a giant octopus, water splashing like a tsunami, drowning the withered vines. A roar like muffled thunder erupted from all directions.

Then, the ground cracked into countless vines harder than stone, sweeping rapidly toward the trio like tiny ants.

“This island…” Yuan Ping trailed off, stunned.

Even the divine mountain was devoured. In the only spot where sunlight could penetrate, what remained?

The worst assumption had come true. This island was the true form of “it”.

Chu Huan hooked his elbow around Yuan Ping’s neck, forcefully pulling him back as the large vines crashed into their previous spot.

“What are you waiting for? Up the mountain! Quick!” he urged.

Yuan Ping stood dazed. “Up the mountain? Water… a mountain of water… where do we even step?”

Chu Huan snapped, “Are you made of solid matter? You’ll float if you jump into the sea!”

“Enough arguing,” Nanshan interjected. “Climbing the mountain won’t be easy.”

Both Chu Huan and Yuan Ping turned to him.

With a composed expression, Nanshan continued, “I can’t control the airflow here.”

This meant he couldn’t protect the flame on the staff underwater.

“Damn it!” Yuan Ping cursed.

Chu Huan could only sigh deeply.

As the true face of Sunken Star Island was unveiled, the rushing and crashing vines revealed a familiar, spine-chilling darkness extending from the sea.

Another massive vine crashed down, as if the heavens and earth were collapsing. The trio fled in panic. Apart from the eerie water mountain, they had no other escape route.

Suddenly, Nanshan thrust the Patriarch staff into Chu Huan’s hands. “Take it,” he said abruptly.

Chu Huan was stunned before finally accepting the staff. Without hesitation, Nanshan bent down, hooked Chu Huan’s waist, and plunged into the water mountain.

The buoyancy quickly lifted Nanshan to the surface, with Chu Huan essentially carried by him, his chest exposed above the water, the flame on the staff perilously shielded amidst the splashing droplets.

Seeing this, Yuan Ping swiftly circled around to Chu Huan’s other side, joining Nanshan in lifting him while treading water to ascend the mountain.

Suddenly, Nanshan stepped on something hard. Startled, he recalled Chu Huan’s mention of bones, and his heart skipped a beat. He instinctively raised his foot to kick, but before he could, his ankle was grasped by an icy skeletal hand.

A powerful force emerged, and Nanshan let go of Chu Huan, pulled underwater in an instant.

Underwater, the scene was horrifying. Surrounded by human bones covered with unknown tentacles, manipulated like eerie marionettes.

Yuan Ping felt the rope tied to Nanshan being forcefully pulled. Before he could react, he too was caught.

Little Green wrapped its tail around Yuan Ping’s waist and dived into the water, ramming into the bones. Its efforts seemed futile in the vastness.

Yuan Ping widened his eyes, seeing eerie shadows enveloping them. Yet, the staff in Chu Huan’s hand still glowed weakly, creating a fragile safe zone.

But this light quickly became precarious—Yuan Ping saw several skeletons swimming towards Chu Huan.

Though Chu Huan wouldn’t be affected by a few skeletons, once pulled underwater, the faint light on the staff would…

Yuan Ping pushed the snake off and directed it towards Nanshan.

Struggling to free himself from the puppet-like skeletons, Nanshan felt a surge of anxiety as more approached. Then, he felt the rope in his hand snap.