Chapter Forty-Four: Walking on the Edge of the Abyss

Recently, strange rumors have been spreading throughout South River City.

First, there was a tremendous noise from the long-sealed, dilapidated Shen family estate. Clouds of dust rose, black mist curled around the old house, and then a radiance like Buddha’s light burst forth, illuminating nearly the entire city.

The honest townsfolk began to grow anxious. Many gathered around a wandering Taoist who had recently arrived, asking if the twenty-seven wronged spirits from the Shen family were behind these disturbances.

Some sought protective charms to keep their homes safe.

Rumor had it that the vengeful souls that appeared that day had all been subdued by the eminent monk who arrived afterward.

“Hmph, they’re right. It is the work of vengeful ghosts—restless spirits escaped from the underworld,” grumbled Hu Bufeng, the garrison commander of South River City, his eyes full of irritation and disgust as his confidant recounted the city’s gossip in the barracks.

Just last night, he had gone out of his way to request aid from a cultivator of Qingdi City, and even invited a high monk from the Lingyin Monastery in the Western Regions. In the end, the proud man from Qingdi City lost an arm, and the monk returned without success.

Qingdi City had always maintained good relations with the Grand Li Dynasty. Now, their prized disciple had met with disaster on Hu Bufeng’s watch. If word reached the capital, all his years of hard work in South River City would be for naught.

Hu Bufeng sometimes regretted—had he been stationed at the drill grounds in central Da Tang, things might have been different.

Shaking off these thoughts, Hu Bufeng began to carefully consider his next move.

Master Huike of Lingyin Monastery had sent word: the man was named Shen Yu. Brazen and audacious, he hadn’t even bothered to change his name, showing utter disregard for the laws and customs of the Grand Li Dynasty.

Years ago, Hu Bufeng had visited the old Shen estate and had taken an instant dislike to the young master of the Lu family—a mere six- or seven-year-old child, yet with eyes so cold and detached.

His confidant, You Da, asked quietly, “General, what should we do now?”

“He killed his own kin with his own hands, and murdered several mortals in cold blood. I don’t believe he would dare so openly provoke the Grand Li Dynasty,” Hu Bufeng muttered, squinting. “If we spread word of this, neither the Central Academy nor even the Daoist Sect would dare defy the world and protect him.”

…

At the border of South River City.

Shen Yu felt no disappointment at failing to learn Zhu Jiu’s whereabouts from the demon emperor.

After all, the three cultivators responsible for his downfall in his past life were shrouded in mystery, and their three immortal artifacts had never surfaced on the Spirit Wilderness Continent. If Zhu Jiu were still around, with his endless years, he might have known something of them.

But after the life-and-death duel with Shang Yang, Zhu Jiu had vanished.

Shen Yu sighed softly. If he hadn’t called upon the power of the Dao left from his previous life, Shang Yang would never have left so easily—he was, after all, one of the most powerful beings in this world.

His own cultivation was still too low.

Yu Wenwen looked puzzled. “What just happened?”

“Nothing,” Shen Yu replied.

Yu Wenwen frowned, still sensing something strange.

Shen Yu said nothing more, gazing quietly at the abyss beneath the waterfall in the distance. As the supernatural phenomenon faded, the roaring cascade thundered down, vapor rising in the sunlight, making the chasm shimmer with dreamlike brilliance.

Yu Wenwen glanced over. “That monkey… did it succeed in breaking through?”

Shen Yu nodded. “Yes.”

Yu Wenwen’s expression was grave. The birth of a new Ascendant Demon King in the Southern Barbarian Demon Domain was no small matter for the Spirit Wilderness Continent—it was imperative to inform the Daoist Sect at once.

But Shen Yu’s mind was elsewhere.

The demon emperor Shang Yang knew so much about his relationship with Shang Yingluo. Clearly, the Demon Domain had spies inside the Daoist Sect. But who could it be?

Yu Wenwen said, “I need to return and report this to the sect.”

“There’s no rush,” said Shen Yu after a moment’s thought. “Would you like to experience the meaning of the great Dao?”

Yu Wenwen was dumbfounded, staring at him in confusion.

Shen Yu pointed to the abyss beneath the waterfall. “That is the best place to temper one’s understanding of the Dao. The aura left behind by a freshly ascended Demon King lingers there—none of the other demons in the Southern Barbarian Domain would dare approach.”

“It’s a fine place,” he said coolly.

Yu Wenwen frowned deeply.

Anyone else would have thought Shen Yu was mad, but not Yu Wenwen. She was nearly obsessive in her pursuit of cultivation.

“There’s a Xuan Yuan formation at the riverbank left by the sect master himself, to prevent anyone from crossing the boundary,” Yu Wenwen said seriously. “We can’t get through.”

Shen Yu studied the irregular lines on the river’s edge. He knew this well. “If I say we can go, we can go. Do you dare?”

Yu Wenwen arched an eyebrow. “Of course.”

Shen Yu strode forward, Yu Wenwen close behind.

In the next instant, their figures sliced through the sky straight toward the waterfall’s abyss.

As they neared the prismatic space, a barrier visibly stretched across the northern riverbank, spanning the entire length of the river—innumerable white lines flowed and twisted across it, radiating a daunting power.

The closer they drew, the more violent and turbulent the force became.

Shen Yu led Yu Wenwen to the top of the massive waterfall, hesitated not at all, and plunged straight into the barrier.

…

In the distance, urgent bells sounded from the border city of Grand Li, as though something grave had occurred. Countless armored soldiers stood on the ramparts, peering out across the land.

Huike, standing at the riverbank, looked up sharply, his expression changing. With a single stride, he arrived before the great waterfall, golden light radiating from his form, and leapt in without hesitation.

The next moment, an invisible force hurled him back, sending him crashing to the ground and carving a deep furrow in the earth.

The monk Huike rose, spitting blood, his face full of bafflement.

In South River City, the wandering Taoist, holding a banner reading “Fate of Life and Death Revealed,” watched the spectacle with interest and shook his head. “Kids these days, none of them know their limits.”

With a sigh, he leisurely extended his right hand, about to perform some trick, when he suddenly froze, eyes wide as though he’d seen a ghost.

“What in the world? Did this old Taoist misjudge him? That youngster is actually a true immortal?”

…

The two entered the misty space beneath the waterfall.

In an instant, countless apocalyptic, world-destroying auras surged over them.

The force was overwhelming, rivaling even the thunder that had attended the monkey’s ascension.

Yu Wenwen could never have imagined Shen Yu would simply barge in so directly. Her entire body tensed—she felt, for the first time, the closeness of death, and her utter helplessness before it.

Her face went pale; instinctively, her hand reached for her sword. But seeing the calm figure in green before her, she inexplicably felt at ease, biting her lip and saying nothing.

Sensing the faint tremor in the woman beside him, Shen Yu said, “Don’t be afraid.”

He closed his eyes, traced a spell-form with his right hand, stepped forward, and in an instant, both of them vanished from the spot.

It was as though time itself blurred.

Yu Wenwen’s senses grew hazy. She found herself hurtling along a vast river of spiritual energy, Shen Yu at the forefront, his green robe billowing—while the immense, sweeping force washed past them, paying them no heed.

Yu Wenwen stared in disbelief at the scene before her.

They journeyed through the abyss for an unknown span, until suddenly, there came a cracking sound!

The river of spiritual energy shattered, the enveloping mist dissipated, and an indescribable heat swept over them.

A barren scene unfolded before their eyes.

All around stretched endless plains, with countless withered giant trees sprawled across the ground. In the distance, vast blackened craters, hundreds of feet deep, marked the earth in a spectacular display.

Yu Wenwen looked up to see the river cascading from the heavens into a vast lake, then winding southward as a black river.

Only then did she realize they had entered the Southern Barbarian Demon Domain. The unreality of it all left her almost dazed.

The Daoist Sect and the Southern Barbarian Demon Domain had warred for thousands of years, and now, she and Shen Yu—disciples of the Daoist Sect—had crossed over so easily.

That barrier before, after all, was a formation the Daoist Sect had spent millennia constructing.

Shen Yu, upon landing, surveyed the area. “This is where the monkey underwent its tribulation.”

Yu Wenwen steadied herself, her face complex. “Just how many secrets are you hiding?”

“Not many,” Shen Yu replied. “My Dao-heart is clear and pure—I simply have a knack for sensing the remaining will of the Dao in the world.”

He did not wish to dwell on the subject. “Come next year, at the Grain Rain, we must return to the Sword Sect. Make the most of your time to cultivate.”

Yu Wenwen asked, “Why are you helping me?”

Shen Yu smiled. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Yu Wenwen said nothing, but gazed at him intently.

At last, the youth said, somewhat helplessly, “Don’t overthink it. If you feel undeserving, do me a favor when we’re back at the Daoist Sect.”

…

Deep within the Southern Barbarian Demon Domain, at Imperial Mountain.

A middle-aged man strolled casually along a mountain path, followed by a burly figure over twice a man’s height.

The giant was grotesque, with long arms and golden fur covering his body. With every step, swathes of demonic energy oozed from him, slowly rising toward the sky like something tangible.

Suddenly, his ears twitched, and he looked north.

The middle-aged man smiled. “How do you feel, little monkey?”

The giant’s true name was Yuan Yi. At these words, he grinned, scratching his head. “That suppressive force from heaven and earth feels weaker and weaker.”

Beasts are born with formidable bodies, but their cultivation can’t match the intelligence of humans—especially this one, an ancient beast of rare kind, faced with even greater restrictions from the world.

Having endured several tribulations and finally broken through, his lifespan greatly increased, and his power reached terrifying new heights. This was a huge boon for the demon domain, long oppressed by humans.

Yet even now, despite his skyrocketing strength, Yuan Yi felt a gulf between himself and the middle-aged man before him—an unattainable distance, as though on the path of the Dao, the man had left him behind by countless miles.

Worse yet, the higher his cultivation, the more pronounced the gap became.

Suddenly, the man said, “Give the order: within a thousand miles of the Nine Heavens Waterfall on the River of the Abyss, no demon beast is to enter.”

Yuan Yi looked surprised but nodded instinctively.

The man strolled on, saying lightly, “You don’t understand?”

Yuan Yi nodded and asked, “Why do you value that boy?”

The Demon Emperor Shang Yang replied offhandedly, “Yingluo has made the acquaintance of a remarkable figure. Let’s see if we can win that one’s favor for our kind.”

Yuan Yi was skeptical. “Just that?”

Shang Yang did not answer, but narrowed his eyes, gazing at the sky. “The old master’s prophecy, the thousand-year-old book of omens—it seems the time is at hand. An era of great strife approaches. For thousands of years the nine holy lands have suppressed us, but at last, we may catch our breath.”

At last, the middle-aged man looked north and murmured, “Shen Yu, don’t let me down.”