Chapter 57 Part 2

The deep sea was dark and lightless.

Eerie green specks on the seaweed drifted like will-o’-the-wisps, silence pressing from all sides.

In the thick black haze, not only vision but even divine sense was blocked—one could only sense nearby presences through perception.

By Li Ruoshui’s estimate, it would take a day or two to reach Thunder Crack Valley. But after trailing to a coral thicket, the Dragon Palace Daoists suddenly vanished.

A strange, pungent fishy stench wafted out. By the ghostly green light, Li Ruoshui spotted a pitch-black deep hole—she guessed that’s where they went.

Who knew the sea’s secret paths better than aquatic races?

“Shall we go?” Li Ruoshui quietly sound-transmitted.

Lian Rusu was very quiet; her presence was so faint that Li Ruoshui sometimes couldn’t sense her.

Was this the pinnacle of Carefree Wander—wandering freely with all things, no self or other?

“You decide,” Lian Rusu replied.

Li Ruoshui nodded, wrapped herself in Five Elements True Light, and leaped into the deep hole first. Bottomless and pitch-black, it twisted and turned like an undersea tunnel. After descending about a hundred zhang, faint light came from ahead—it seemed to bottom out.

Li Ruoshui landed steadily and reached out to help Lian Rusu.

She grasped Lian Rusu’s arm, the warmth from her palm inexplicably surging. Li Ruoshui’s face heated for no reason.

She quickly withdrew her hand, turned her back to Lian Rusu, and walked toward the light.

The rolling darkness like thick fog dispersed before them. The glow like fireflies grew, becoming like a blazing sun. Rough buildings matching those on the island dotted the seafloor in neat rows—a veritable outpost.

But the outpost was eerily silent, without a sound.

Li Ruoshui advanced cautiously. Before the brightly lit outpost, she saw an altar amid bizarre rock formations. About five zhang long and wide, it was lined with strange white banners covered in eerie patterns like monstrous eyes. Between the banners stood stacks of grim beast bones. At the center was a small bowl filled with some demon beast’s blood, rippling in circles.

The ghastly, green-tinged horror made one’s hair stand on end.

Li Ruoshui rubbed her arms and turned to ask Lian Rusu, “What array is on the altar?”

Lian Rusu frowned slightly and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She had never seen such an array—was it some lost ancient formation?

For array mastery, none surpassed Tianyan Sect, experts in artifact forging. Getting no answer from Lian Rusu, Li Ruoshui didn’t press. Instead, she imprinted the mysterious symbols and sent copies to Wu Hanfeng of Tianyan Sect and Ji Wuxin in the Origin Sea.

Wu Hanfeng: “Evil array.”

Li Ruoshui raised an eyebrow. This thing’s appearance screamed bad news, didn’t it?

But she had no time to chat with Wu Hanfeng. A strange wailing sound echoed out, followed by eerie ghostly cries. The large and small white banners suddenly swayed, and the skulls on the ground madly opened their mouths as if they were about to fly up. The strangest part was that bowl of blood—it seemed to be sucked away by some invisible force, quickly leaving only a shallow layer behind.

Li Ruoshui’s scalp tingled. She raised her hand and slapped toward the skulls that lunged to bite, smashing them into powder. Her magical power surged fiercely and viciously, sweeping through with waves laced with blazing fire profound light. Amid grating friction sounds that set teeth on edge, she shattered all the white banners, leaving the altar a wreckage. Yet the sense of impending crisis that shadowed her persisted. The patterns originally drawn on the banners manifested in midair, like ghostly eyes.

An aura akin to that of the Return to Ruins leaked from the ghostly eyes, and a Ruin Spirit roughly at the Golden Core level crawled out from within.

“Return to Ruins Gap?” Li Ruoshui blurted out.

No, they were already inside the Return to Ruins Gap. There should only be one core rift, and this small one seemed to have been birthed by the altar.

Li Ruoshui didn’t give the Ruin Spirit a chance to fully emerge. She slapped it into oblivion. She stared intently at the rippling rift, her expression grave. Would this altar-summoned rift evolve according to past patterns? Would it stay limited to the Golden Core level? Would it vanish? Li Ruoshui took a deep breath and unleashed a blast of Taiyi Blazing Fire Profound Light toward the eerie “eye.”

Fierce golden winds and blazing flames surged toward the bizarre entity, splattering showers of sparks. Fortunately, the strange eye wasn’t indestructible. After several blasts of Taiyi Blazing Fire Profound Light swept it away, the eerie atmosphere was purged, and the view gradually cleared.

Lian Rusu hadn’t made a move. Her gaze had followed Li Ruoshui the whole time, ready to strike with her sword if anything changed.

“These Thunder Spine Sharks are definitely up to no good,” Li Ruoshui said with conviction, a stifled frustration bubbling in her chest.

Lian Rusu replied, “The altar is nearly a Return to Ruins Gap. Its power might be borne by those bizarre patterns.”

Li Ruoshui nodded. “Who knows where the Thunder Spine Sharks got this from? Do only they have it, or do other groups too?” She described the altar’s changes and sent it to Wu Hanfeng and Ji Wuxin. If they knew, it meant the Immortal Dao Seven Sects and the Origin Sea forces knew too.

Before Lian Rusu could respond, Li Ruoshui muttered, “The Origin Sea really isn’t safe. I should’ve known better than to come.” She could have cultivated safely in a Return to Ruins Gap controlled by a major sect—why choose this perilous one? There weren’t even many benefits in comparison.

Lian Rusu said softly, “It’s the same wherever you go.”

“Hm?” Li Ruoshui turned her head, puzzled as she looked at Lian Rusu. Was she a natural jinx?

Lian Rusu explained, “Everyone is more or less guided by their fundamental Great Dao. You cultivate the Vow Dao, so Heaven’s Will leads you toward the changes in the Return to Ruins.”

Li Ruoshui: “…”

So danger followed her wherever she went now?

Li Ruoshui sighed. “I believe the Tianyan Mirror’s judgment of the Decline of Destiny.”

What else was this but a jinx? No wonder her predecessors had all perished on their paths!

“Senior Sister, then you following me—” She didn’t finish, but both speaker and listener understood. Li Ruoshui’s brows furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in her eyes.

Lian Rusu was the Taiyi Sect Master, with a strong sense of duty to suppress the Return to Ruins upheavals. Was she using Li Ruoshui as a “compass”?

Lian Rusu admitted frankly, “I do have that intention.” Meeting Li Ruoshui’s gaze, she said softly, “Sorry.”

A bright smile quickly bloomed on Li Ruoshui’s face. She shook her head enthusiastically. “No need to apologize to me.”

She felt no displeasure at being used. Instead, a massive weight lifted from her heart. The shackles that had bound her thoughts since Lian Rusu’s arrival snapped open. Her brows relaxed, divine light shone from her eyes, and her smile grew even more radiant.

“Let’s go take a look,” Li Ruoshui said, beaming with excitement.

Lian Rusu hummed in agreement. As Li Ruoshui turned, a complex emotion flickered in her otherwise serene eyes.

She wasn’t entirely oblivious. Her presence had brought pressure to Li Ruoshui.

Their interactions could never be as carefree as in the Tianyan Mirror.

Why? Because she was the Taiyi Sect Master? Or did Shangshan Junior Sister still hide some secrets?

The outpost was deathly silent, devoid of any living auras—not even the Dragon Palace Daoists’ presences remained. Only a few ruined structures attested to their prior arrival.

The altar had to be destroyed, and any encountered Ruin Spirits slain. But luck didn’t hold forever. Midway, they ran into a Nascent Soul Ruin Spirit nearing the Nascent Soul Third Layer. Li Ruoshui knew her limits—this one was fundamentally different from the ones she’d slain before. Without hesitation, she activated the Shanyue True Form Chart and fled into this isolated Cave Heaven world.

After gauging that the Ruin Spirit had left, Li Ruoshui cautiously peeked out.

This evasion unlocked a door. She intuitively mastered a technique, maximizing the once-useless Shanyue True Form Chart. She rampaged through the outpost unchecked, slipping into the Shanyue True Form Chart at the first whiff of Thunder Spine Sharks or Ruin Spirits without engaging.

The Shanyue True Form Chart’s true spirit fumed indignantly. “The Human Emperor refined this treasure— not for you to sneak around thieving and plundering!”

It had misjudged her, deceived by her glib tongue. Where was her imperial grace?!

How could this wretch cultivate the Human Emperor Dao? The Vow Dao too? Had Heaven gone blind?

Li Ruoshui let it go in one ear and out the other. When had she ever snuck or stolen? Against enemies, she could ruthlessly take lives—why spare mere possessions?

At first, she’d thought some Thunder Spine Sharks innocent. But seeing untainted ones presiding over the altar had sealed their death sentence. They would be divided by the victors anyway—what was wrong with her taking a share early?

She ignored the true spirit in the chart, quietly observing Lian Rusu’s expressions instead.

This was her nature—unchangeable.

Inside the Shanyue True Form Chart.

Vast blue skies stretched endlessly, pristine and clear.

But the mountains told another story: everywhere, white misty clusters like tufts of cotton.

Isolated from the outside world, no one would guess they hid amid the sea domain.

Distant peaks and nearby ridges pierced the clouds like bamboo shoots, the mountain mists forming a sea with summits as boats.

Li Ruoshui had no leisure to admire the surging mist scenery. Instead, she quietly shifted her gaze back to Lian Rusu.

Lian Rusu asked warmly, “What’s wrong?”

Li Ruoshui hesitated, then said after a moment, “Nothing.”

Unable to use the Tianyan Mirror in the Cave Heaven world, she couldn’t settle to meditate or circulate qi. She took out her Universe Pouch to inventory it. But soon, her attention drifted back to Lian Rusu.

Lian Rusu said firmly, “You have something to ask me.”

The mountain clouds churned like a silvery sea, mirroring the turmoil in Li Ruoshui’s heart.

She shifted position, sitting cross-legged, head tilted, propping her left cheek with one hand. Her gaze roamed the pavilion, the cliffs, the clouds—anywhere but Lian Rusu’s face.

“Don’t you think something’s off?”

“What’s off?” Lian Rusu chuckled lightly. “Everyone’s life experiences and cultivation paths differ, don’t they?”

“Oh,” Li Ruoshui replied. Her hand dropped, clenching into a fist. Her heart raced, face flushing with inexplicable awkwardness.

Lian Rusu continued, “I’ve befriended itinerant cultivators in the Tianyan Mirror before too.”

Li Ruoshui’s eyelid twitched. She blurted subconsciously, “And showered them with gold, calling them bosom friends?”