The ruins of the Qingshuang Pavilion are a typical example of traditional Huaxia architecture, with one courtyard followed by another, and one gate after another. Historically, there were so large Taoist sect gates, advancing through nine courtyards, nine gardens, nine gates, because nine was considered the supre number in ancient tis, representing the utmost and the yang.
Each step brought a new gate, progressively moving deeper, illustrating a stringent hierarchy system. Of course, the Qingshuang Pavilion Ruins don’t have the scale of nine courtyards and nine gates; there are only three in and three out, because the summit’s area can’t accommodate a nine-story building.
After passing through the final gate, one arrives at the highest pavilion within the ruins of Qingshuang Pavilion. Although described as an attic, it’s more like a tower—a nine-story pagoda that erects like a sharp sword on the mountaintop.
What further astonished Lin Tian was that the tower’s base was actually built on the edge of a cliff, a nine-story pagoda built on the verge of an abyss. Behind the tower was the mountain cliff, and beneath the cliff was a canyon, with a deep gorge between the opposing mountain and the one where the Qingshuang Pavilion ruins stood!
Moonlight poured down from above, enveloping the mountains and canyon, while mist swirled within the gorge, utterly obscuring its base due to the night.
Lin Tian and his companions stood by the cliff’s edge, facing an almost vertical escarpnt. The night wind gusted by, imparting an almost dropping sensation into the canyon, a thrilling feeling that quickened one’s heartbeat.
Of course, it wasn’t Lin Tian whose heartbeat quickened but Yun Xiaotian, who, despite his wealth, was a re ordinary person compared to an Ancient Martial Artist; an ordinary person standing by a cliff would undoubtedly feel fear. Although there was a railing ahead, it provided scant comfort.
Especially given the ground’s slickness, it felt as if one could fall at any mont. Falling by the cliff was no jest; an ordinary person might quickly slip beyond the railing and plunge into the canyon, eting a grisly demise.
Yun Xiaotian stood alongside Lin Tian, clutching Lin Tian’s arm tightly, as if only this offered a semblance of security.
"Aunt Wang, the depths of the forest you ntioned, could it be across the canyon?" Lin Tian asked curiously.
Wang Wanxi nodded slightly in response: "Yes, the true sect of the Qingshuang Pavilion is in the forest across the canyon. Like the Ancient Martial families, the Qingshuang Pavilion has always adhered to the principle of secluding themselves for cultivation; even when they venture out, they won’t reveal their identities as Ancient Martial Artists."
"Venture out?" Lin Tian was puzzled: "How do they venture out? Does everyone in the Qingshuang Pavilion fly their swords across the canyon?"
These words weren’t ant to belittle the Qingshuang Pavilion; they were purely out of curiosity. Yet, upon hearing them, Shen Danxi, the female disciple, felt sowhat displeased. Though Sword Flight is legendary and even the Pavilion Master can’t perform it, speaking like this seems to imply the Qingshuang Pavilion is so feeble it can’t cross the canyon.
She cast a glance at Lin Tian, marking the second ti she looked directly at him, yet her gaze carried displeasure as before. Lin Tian noticed her discontent but didn’t bother to explain. After all, he wasn’t fond of these female disciples of the Qingshuang Pavilion.
Shen Danxi said nothing more, but turned to face the canyon, moving her mouth. She emitted a strange howl—not loud, but it reached far into the distance.
Yun Xiaotian was amazed, but Lin Tian understood that the female disciple was using True Qi to resonate and produce sound, akin to the legendary Buddhist cultivation technique Lion Roar Skill; otherwise, an ordinary person’s voice couldn’t reach such extre heights.
After the howl, the canyon and forest quieted down again, with only the faint whirring of the night wind echoing through the valley.
Minutes later, a sound reached Lin Tian’s ears, faint at first but growing louder over several minutes, audible even to Yun Xiaotian.
The sound was peculiar, a mixture of clinking and clattering, as if sothing was about to erge from the canyon. Lin Tian, Yun Xiaotian, and Ghost approached the railing involuntarily, seeking to discern whatever might appear at the canyon’s base.
Yet beneath the night curtain, with thickening mist, nothing could be seen. Though the darkness couldn’t impede Lin Tian’s vision, without enabling his x-ray vision, his sight couldn’t penetrate the mist.
"Brother Lin, there seems to be sothing about to erge from the canyon?" Yun Xiaotian remarked nervously yet excitedly, as if watching a horror film; scared but unable to resist the urge to see.
"Could it be a flying mount?" Ghost remarked mischievously.
Lin Tian gave him a disdainful glance: "You play too many gas; besides, the shooting gas you play don’t have any flying mounts."
As they speculated, sounds from the canyon grew louder, the clattering almost at their ears, and then a lengthy dark shadow finally broke through the mist, appearing before them.
"A chain, it’s a chain..." Ghost exclaid.
Not only him but Lin Tian was surprised as well; anyone seeing this chain initially would be shocked. It was an arm-thick chain, with large links interlocking, extending downward; one end hidden in the mist, the other visible ahead.
As more of the chain erged, Lin Tian and the others finally saw its full length—a long chain stretching horizontally across the canyon, connecting the cliffs on both sides.
Such a long, thick chain likely weighed over ten tons. Ten tons—what does that an? Twenty thousand pounds, perhaps even more; a thousand-pound gate, Dragon Severing Stone, seem paltry compared to it.
Yet this heavy chain hung suspended over the canyon, with one end connecting the mountain below the nine-story pagoda and the other end connecting to so unknown place.
What power raised the chain, keeping it taut over the canyon? How enormous must the force be? If it’s man-made, it’s terrifying; Lin Tian has never attempted to lift twenty thousand pounds.
Only now did Lin Tian notice the chain stretching beneath his feet. The chain swayed slightly in the night wind, countless droplets dripping from it, as if freshly pulled from the water.
The canyon below might be a mountain stream, with water flowing through—an authentic iron chain spanning across.
"If a helicopter flew out from below, I wouldn’t be as shocked. I never expected a chain; this chain might just be the only entrance and exit for the Qingshuang Pavilion!" Ghost expressed in awe.
Lin Tian contemplated this possibility: entry and exit from Qingshuang Pavilion depend on a chain, indicating the disciples inside are proficient in Qinggong.
Of course, another possibility exists: the female disciples are escorted in by their masters, only allowed to descend freely until they’ve cultivated enough skill to cross the iron chain alone. Whichever it may be, it proves the Qingshuang Pavilion’s prowess, explaining the won’s pride.
As Lin Tian and his companions pondered how the disciples co and go, the chain shook abruptly, and in the distance of the chain, two faint silhouettes appeared.
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