Lu Fengmian withdrew his gaze and swept a glance over the team behind him.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Pick up the pace.”
The group began advancing.
A hundred people stepped across the wasteland, their footsteps rustling. Withered grass snapped beneath their feet with faint crackling sounds.
Soone stepped on a heavily weathered stone. It crumbled instantly into powder, raising a small cloud of gray dust.
After walking for half an hour, the surroundings were still nothing but desolation.
At first, people talked and laughed, but after an hour, the voices gradually quieted.
Two hours later, only heavy breathing and the sound of footsteps remained.
The distant forest seed slightly closer, yet at the sa ti still impossibly far away.
The horizon was forever ahead, as though endless. The scenery never changed: withered grass, cracked earth, gray-white stones.
Occasionally, they encountered oddly shaped rocks. Soone might glance at one twice, but after taking a few steps and looking back, it would be gone.
“Why is this plain… so vast…”
“It looks close, but walking it is killing us…”
“Stop talking. Save your strength.”
Lu Fengmian walked at the very front, his steps steady, showing no sign of fatigue.
Zhou Wu followed at his side, equally composed. He was already at the late Golden Core stage; this distance ant little to him.
But so of the disciples at the Foundation Establishnt stage behind them were already sweating.
Especially the few outer disciples from the General Affairs Hall.
They had the lowest cultivation, carried the heaviest loads, and struggled the most.
Xiao Jin walked at the very back of the line, gritting his teeth as he moved forward step by step.
The ground beneath his feet was cracked and dry. Each step sank into the fissures, and he had to exert effort to pull his foot free before taking the next.
He lifted a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead and kept going.
They walked another half hour.
Soone’s legs gave out and he nearly fell. The person beside him quickly caught him.
“You alright?”
“I… I’m fine… just a little tired…”
Lu Fengmian halted and turned to look at the panting disciples.
“Rest here for a while.”
The team imdiately let out a collective sigh of relief. So sat directly on the ground. Others pulled out water pouches and drank in large gulps. A few simply collapsed in place, gasping for breath.
Lu Fengmian stood where he was, gazing at the forest that was gradually drawing nearer.
A faint layer of mist seed to shroud the forest’s edge.
After half a stick of incense had burned, the team set off again.
Another half hour later, they finally reached the forest’s boundary.
Dense fog poured from within like a gray-white wall, tightly enveloping the entire forest.
Lu Fengmian stood at the edge of the mist and looked inside.
He could see nothing.
He turned to the crowd behind him.
“Zhou Wu.”
Zhou Wu stepped forward.
“Tell everyone to put on masks,” Lu Fengmian said.
Zhou Wu nodded and turned to make the arrangents.
The disciples took out the masks they had prepared beforehand.
So were cloth, so jade. A few disciples from Artifact Refining Peak produced oddly shaped tal masks. It was said they had forged them themselves—miniature devices capable of filtering miasma and toxic fog.
Xiao Jin also took a strip of cloth from his storage pouch and tied it over his face. The fabric pressed tightly against his mouth and nose, making breathing sowhat difficult, but it was better than inhaling poison.
After securing the knot, he looked up toward the front.
Lu Fengmian was calling out nas.
“One from Baicao Peak,” his gaze swept over the group, “Qi Heyang.”
A handso young man stepped out.
“Two disciples from Wanren Peak,” Lu Fengmian called two more nas.
Finally, he looked toward Tianyan Peak. “One from Tianyan Peak.”
A tall, thin young man stepped forward and bowed to Lu Fengmian.
“The four of you go in first to scout,” Lu Fengmian instructed. “Don’t go too far. Within one stick of incense, no matter what you discover, you must co out.”
The four nodded in unison.
“Go.”
The four figures plunged into the fog. They were quickly swallowed by the gray-white mist; even their footsteps could no longer be heard.
Qi Heyang walked in front.
The fog was thicker than he had imagined. Beyond three zhang, nothing was visible. Underfoot was a soft layer of fallen leaves that made no sound when stepped on, like treading on cotton.
He circulated the qi within his body, sensing his surroundings.
The fog carried no toxicity; it was purely to obscure vision.
He relaxed slightly.
It seed this trial would not be difficult.
Qi Heyang turned around, intending to call to those behind him and urge them to move faster.
Then he froze.
There was no one behind him.
The two from Wanren Peak and the junior brother from Tianyan Peak were gone.
Qi Heyang opened his mouth. Before he could cry out, the fog surged violently.
Before his eyes appeared a familiar scene: bluestone steps, ancient halls, faint wisps of smoke rising from a dicinal furnace in the distance.
Baicao Peak.
Had he returned to Baicao Peak?
Sunlight poured down. In the herb fields afar, several junior brothers were tending spirit plants. The air was filled with the familiar fragrance of dicine mixed with the scent of soil.
Qi Heyang stood there in a daze. Before he could react, a figure was already striding toward him.
It was the Peak Master of Baicao Peak.
The man who usually wore a stern expression and at most would nod at him was now beaming, walking briskly forward to seize his hand.
“Heyang!” The Peak Master’s voice brimd with irrepressible excitent. “You’ve rendered great service this ti!”
Grasping his hand, the Peak Master shook it vigorously. “That thousand-year Nine-Leaf Mystic Ginseng in the secret realm—you were the first to discover it, weren’t you? The entire sect is praising you!”
Qi Heyang opened his mouth.
The thousand-year Nine-Leaf Mystic Ginseng?
When had he discovered such a thing?
He had clearly just entered the secret realm—he hadn’t even…
No.
Had he entered the secret realm?
Then where was this?
He looked at the Peak Master’s smiling face, at the familiar surroundings, and suddenly felt a flicker of confusion.
This was Baicao Peak. Why did sothing feel wrong?
“Co, co,” the Peak Master tugged him inward. “Everyone’s waiting to celebrate your achievent!”
Qi Heyang was pulled along, step by step.
It seed… everything appeared perfectly normal.
***
Outside the mist, the crowd waited anxiously.
One stick of incense had long since burned out.
Not a single one of the four had returned.
Lu Fengmian stood at the edge of the fog, his brows slightly furrowed.
Zhou Wu stood beside him and asked in a low voice, “Should we send in a few more to check?”
Lu Fengmian did not answer imdiately.
He stared at the gray-white mist, pondering.
Just then, a figure suddenly rushed out of the fog.
The man stumbled forward, face deathly pale, drenched in sweat. His clothes were soaked as though he had just been fished out of water.
It was the disciple from Tianyan Peak.
The crowd surged forward, hurriedly surrounding him to support him.
“Xu Zhao! Xu Zhao, what happened?”
“Are you alright? Are you injured?”
“Where are the others?”
Xu Zhao panted heavily, opening his mouth, but for a mont no words ca out.
Lu Fengmian stepped forward and pressed a hand to his shoulder.
“Don’t panic,” his voice carried a calming force. “Take a breath. Tell us slowly.”
Xu Zhao drew several deep breaths before finally steadying himself.
He looked up at Lu Fengmian, fear still lingering in his eyes.
“Senior Brother,” his voice was hoarse, “it’s an illusion.”
“That forest weaves beautiful dreams, making people forget they are still inside the secret realm.”
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