Of Mountains and Rivers 73

Nanshan was startled. Amidst the chaos, before he could discern what happened to the other end of the rope, something rushed towards him. Instinctively, he reached out and caught it, realizing it was the snake.

The snake struggled in his hands while the severed rope floated gently before him.

Someone had cut the rope with a sharp tool.

Yuan Ping floated in the water, unsupported.

Though he appeared like any other Gatekeeper, there was an unsettling quality about him. Even if his skin were a shade lighter, it wouldn't make him seem excessively pale.

Like sunlight at times, pale yet not eerie. The pallor was bright white.

Yuan Ping raised a finger to his lips, signaling for silence.

Nanshan attempted to catch up, but the surging seawater and approaching skeletons blocked his path.

Yuan Ping smiled with a raised eyebrow.

Nanshan had heard that Yuan Ping and Chu Huan grew up together, even worked together as adults. Yet, he could never quite grasp what they had in common—except perhaps their shared penchant for discomforting each other.

Chu Huan's smile always carried depth, even if superficial. Yuan Ping, however, exuded perpetual youth, at times frivolous and reckless. Yet, his smile, even if Nanshan once considered him a rival in love, was always forgivable.

Yuan Ping glanced up at Chu Huan on the water's surface, thinking optimistically, "Well, you've got this. I left it to you last time, and I'll do the same now."

Becoming accustomed soon enough. When Yuan Ping recalled Chu Huan's oft-repeated phrases, he felt reassured.

With these thoughts, Yuan Ping confidently entered the shadows.

Actually, when he thought about it, Chu Huan wasn't deceiving anyone. In certain contexts, "scoundrel" did imply the strongest bond of brotherhood.

In the next moment, Nanshan felt himself swept into a massive vortex. Something churned the seawater, carrying him and the skeletons away from Chu Huan. Yet, the force wasn't brutal; it effortlessly lifted Nanshan to the surface, preserving the delicate flame in Chu Huan’s hands without a single splash.

In the blink of an eye, Nanshan and Yuan Ping vanished from view. Anxiousness gripped Chu Huan, yet he felt utterly powerless. Even as repulsive skeletons clung to him, he dared not retaliate—because the staff was in his hands.

From Chu Huan's perspective, he could see the shadows underwater ruthlessly spreading toward him. Even if he had to burn himself, the fire on the staff must not be extinguished.

Bound by the shackles of the staff, the core of his existence, he felt paralyzed, torn between looking ahead and glancing behind.

However, at this critical moment, an inexplicable force, akin to divine intervention, swept in and instantly cleared his path.

Yet, Chu Huan's response wasn't one of joy but astonishment.

He knew the most significant advantage among them was Nanshan's unique ability, which unfortunately was no longer operational. So where did this power come from?

The gentle whirlpool continued its rotation, lifting Chu Huan higher until the water barely reached his waist. It formed a small vortex around him, resembling a water shield.

In that moment, Chu Huan saw Nanshan rising in front of him.

Facing a close brush with death, Nanshan gazed at him silently, his eyes appearing confused, soaked with seawater, conveying uncertainty. With just one glance, Chu Huan understood everything.

He heard a "cracking" sound, and suddenly, a passage appeared in front of the water mountain. The seawater seemed to cleave, forming a channel compressed into the shape of steps by some force. The temperature dropped visibly as it swiftly turned into an ice-like staircase leading to the mountaintop.

It was as if someone had paved the way for them.

Chu Huan lowered his head, examining the icy surface under his feet. It felt slippery, but he steadied himself—he had to stand firm. Even if he were to fall into the abyss, he still held the staff.

Feeling the intense cold almost freezing his joints due to the rapid freezing of the water, Chu Huan slowly bent down towards Nanshan, extending a hand. In a low voice, he said, "I'll pull you up."

Nanshan felt a bone-chilling coldness in the hand that pulled him, sending a sharp twinge through his heart. With determination, he leveraged Chu Huan’s grip to propel himself up the icy steps.

Little Green slithered down slowly from Nanshan's body, then crawled up Chu Huan's wet trousers. The snake, appearing listless, rested its triangular head on Chu Huan's shoulder, resembling an abandoned pet seeking solace.

Chu Huan didn't ask about Yuan Ping's whereabouts. He remained silent, merely reaching back to thrust the burning staff into Nanshan's hands before wordlessly turning away. He continued ascending the icy steps, a path paved by another's sacrifice.

Strangely, as he walked the path laid out for him by others, Chu Huan's heart didn't churn with intense emotions.

Perhaps he had grown accustomed to it, or maybe, as a form of self-preservation, he intentionally delayed his reaction time, not fully grasping the reality of the situation.

Now, the only target in Chu Huan's gaze was the seemingly unreachable summit of the mountain.

He reminded himself that one shouldn't worry about appearances, nor be too rigid or proud. If it's cold, admit it; if it hurts, acknowledge the pain; if it's uncomfortable, express it. After all, who wasn't just a mortal, subject to the range of human emotions?

Why pretend to be a mighty wolf with a grandiose tail?

It would only lead others to believe you're bathed in holy light, appearing omnipotent. What good would that do?

… except for being pushed to take the heat during critical moments.

Chu Huan chuckled self-deprecatingly. He moved swiftly on the eerie water mountain and the floating ice steps, traversing them effortlessly as if walking on flat ground, until someone grabbed his wrist from behind.

"Chu Huan!" Nanshan's voice betrayed his fluster as Chu Huan reacted calmly. He quickly secured a rope tightly around Chu Huan's wrist, creating a firm knot. "Can't you… can't you say something to me?"

At his request, Chu Huan turned around and spoke, "Since we're already in its territory, our previous tricks might not be as effective. How long can these steps hold? We better move fast."

Nanshan stared at the knot between them. After a moment of silence, he said, "… I didn't mean that."

Chu Huan reached out, running his hand through Nanshan's long hair. A fleeting smile crossed his face, "Alright, let’s not dwell on that—I love you."

This unexpected declaration left Nanshan seeing stars, nearly losing his footing on the icy surface. He stood there dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Chu Huan effectively silenced him with a single sentence, his expression carrying a hint of gentle bewilderment. Holding onto the rope, they continued their ascent to the mountaintop, climbing in silence on this artificially crafted ice mountain for hundreds of meters.

Initially, the ice was solid, but as they ascended, it became increasingly fragile, eventually turning into a thin layer of easily breakable ice.

Yuan Ping's power could only take them this far.

As soon as Chu Huan heard the faint "crackling" beneath his feet, his hand instinctively went to the short knife at his waist.

Through the thin ice, Chu Huan could already see shadows catching up beneath them.

He paused for a moment and spoke in a low voice, "Nanshan, I have something not-so-great to tell you—there's no more path ahead. It looks like we'll have to take to the water again."

"I have something to tell you too," Nanshan's voice came from behind him. "Turn around and look at the staff."

The first time Chu Huan laid eyes on the Patriarch’s staff, it was nearly as tall as a person, with a majestic and extravagant gem embedded at its pinnacle. Later, the gem was removed, shortening the staff. During the confrontation with the flat people around the mountain, it was set on fire as bait, and another section of the staff broke off. It had been gradually diminishing along their journey. However, this rapid shortening was unprecedented.

Chu Huan distinctly remembered that when he handed the staff to Nanshan, it was still at least the length of his forearm. Now, in the blink of an eye, it had shrunk to less than the span of a hand!

Nanshan murmured, “After arriving on this island, the staff has been burning increasingly fast. We probably need to hurry.”

What does it mean by ‘bad things come in succession’?

When they reached the end of the icy steps, Chu Huan had initially thought of suggesting a pause to discuss their route ahead with Nanshan. However, it seems pointless now. The current state of the staff raised questions whether this small remaining piece could hold out until they reached the mountaintop.

Moreover, if they truly did not find what they were looking for at the mountaintop, what would they do then?

This thought flashed through Chu Huan's mind. His gaze darkened slightly, but he didn't ask directly as words on his tongue always took a habitual turn. He then asked Nanshan, "Is what you mentioned really just a large white stone?"

Nanshan nodded, “Yes.”

After nodding, Nanshan sensitively added, "I believe the Sacred Text is at the mountaintop. Don't worry."

Chu Huan was briefly taken aback. He shook his head with a bitter smile and spoke no more. Taking hold of the hemp rope on Nanshan's wrist, he decisively said, "Let's go underwater."

With that, Chu Huan leaped into the center of the water.

Perhaps due to the sudden change in pressure on the ice surface, as they plunged into the water, the area they had just stepped on emitted a strange crackling sound. The cracks spread like a spiderweb, and soon a tremendous shattering noise echoed from below—the ingeniously crafted ice steps disintegrated in the blink of an eye.

With one hand holding the rope tethered to Nanshan's hand and the other gripping the short knife, Chu Huan didn't turn around. He merely looked up towards the direction of the mountaintop.

“Not far now,” Chu Huan reassured himself.

For a moment, a sense of calmness akin to returning to destiny rose within him. At most, the staff would be able to support them to the mountaintop. The current situation left them with no other option – it was either a success or die-trying scenario. Regardless, there wouldn’t be a third path.

If there was no Sacred Text at the mountaintop, or if the Sacred Text turned out to be unreliable, then they would lose the opportunity for resistance.

The seawater continued to flow mysteriously uphill, propelling the two of them up the mountain. There was no sign of the skeletal creatures that Yuan Ping had confined to the mountain below, at least for the time being, which made their progress in the water less challenging than expected.

The sound of cracking ice behind him was incessant in his ears. At first, Chu Huan thought it was normal, but he soon realized that the noise was too loud and too persistent.

Suddenly, Nanshan reached over the hemp rope and grabbed Chu Huan's hand. At the same time, a shadow passed overhead, and Chu Huan suddenly looked up—only to see the entire sky seemed to be upside down.

The dark gray, almost black, giant vines on the "Sunken Star Island'' had all spread out. It was unimaginably large. Within its enveloping range, humans were like grains of sand on a windy dune, which made them seem so insignificant.

This seawater mountain was nearly a kilometer high, and both Chu Huan and Nanshan had climbed to a point where only a quarter of the distance to the top remained. From this height, Chu Huan, with his keen vision, couldn't even see the tail of the vine.

At the same time, countless vines, each hundreds of miles long, slowly lifted, intending to squeeze the water mountain in the center of the Sunken Star Island. It was like a giant hand closing in on a flower bud the size of a fingernail.

"It" would crush them along with this water mountain into powder.

This scene was truly overwhelming, shrouded in a world of clouds.

With a loud rumble, the vines had descended right above their heads.

Facing this unprecedented situation, Chu Huan could only manage a wry smile. He wondered where Yuan Ping found the confidence to believe he could confront such a monster… Was it something a human could accomplish?

As Chu Huan pondered, he glanced at the mountaintop—there was still a quarter left.

Yuan Ping had led them here earlier, and though the current situation was dire, Chu Huan felt he could give it a try.

He had already prepared his short knife just for this moment—Chu Huan quietly cut the hemp rope between him and Nanshan underwater, without attracting attention. Holding the other end of the rope, he was ready in case Nanshan noticed anything amiss.

After finishing this, Chu Huan, taking advantage of Nanshan's shock and disorientation, slid out of the water like a fish.

His timing and execution were impeccable, ensuring success—or so it should have been.

But halfway through, someone grabbed his ankle.

Nanshan, who had withdrawn his gaze at some point, now stared at him with a mix of clear eyes and anger.

In the next moment, a sharp pain shot through Chu Huan's ankle, as if a tendon had been caught. He couldn't discern Nanshan's technique, but the cold seawater caused his calf to cramp, rendering him powerless. With ease, Nanshan pulled him back with one hand.

Their collision sent a tremor through Chu Huan's body, but Little Green quickly dodged to avoid being affected.

Exploiting Chu Huan's leg cramp, Nanshan swiftly entwined him with his legs. He released his hands, gripped Chu Huan's neck, lifted his chin, and pressed it against his own shoulder.

Chu Huan trembled, unsure if it was from the pain or something else.

Ignoring the vines overwhelming them from behind, Nanshan whispered in Chu Huan's ear, "You said you loved me just now—"

Chu Huan hoarsely replied, "Not anymore. Forget you, let go…"

Nanshan silenced him with a rough kiss.

Chu Huan, resigned, and allowed Nanshan to do as he pleased. Secretly, he desperately pulled the leg that Nanshan had cramped earlier and reached for the back of Nanshan's neck.

But with his back to Nanshan, Chu Huan's posture was awkward, and Nanshan immediately saw through his intentions. He slightly tilted his head, blocking Chu Huan's hand, and the formidable strength of the Mountain Keeper locked Chu Huan's limbs. Nanshan sighed softly, "Let me take a good look at you. Don't struggle."

Chu Huan's body trembled violently, on the verge of collapse as he whispered, "Please, I beg you…"

Nanshan silently observed him, and in that moment, the youngest Patriarch of the Mountain Keeper revealed the deepest pain he had ever experienced in his eyes. Then, with just the right amount of force, he lightly tapped the back of Chu Huan's neck.

The brief unconsciousness allowed Chu Huan's relaxed body to float to the sea's surface. Nanshan inserted the remaining staff, only about half the size of a palm, into Little Green's mouth in an upright position, letting it grasp onto it. He patted the snake's head and said, "No matter what, do not let this fire go out."

Little Green, not fully comprehending, looked confusedly at Nanshan. Nanshan smiled bitterly, realizing there was no one more reliable to entrust this task to.

He glanced at Chu Huan one last time, gently tapped Little Green's forehead, and said, "Go."

Nanshan watched as the large snake dragged Chu Huan away, slowly swimming in another direction.

It was like personally extinguishing a spark.

Chu Huan's hand floating on the water twitched, indicating he would wake up soon.

Nanshan looked up at the huge shadow about to descend upon them. Without further delay, he dived into the looming darkness without looking back.