Chapter Forty-One: The Lost City in the Misty Valley

The moment she unleashed “Convergence of Myriad Streams,” Hongjian suddenly sensed the dense fog around her clear within a foot or so; she could make out her own body and the gray-green earth beneath her feet. But in the blink of an eye, the distant fog rolled back in, once more enveloping her surroundings.

At first, Hongjian was delighted, but soon after, a sense of regret welled up in her heart. Although “Convergence of Myriad Streams” could absorb the fog, the energy generated could not be used to improve her cultivation due to her bottleneck—it all dissipated outside her body. This place, in truth, was a sacred ground for those with the Water Spiritual Root to cultivate. If she had reached the seventh level of Qi Refinement before entering, she would not need to explore any other part of this secret realm; she could simply use “Convergence of Myriad Streams” here and possibly advance one or two levels.

Though there was little advantage for her now, it was the only means she had to break free from her predicament. Resolving not to dwell on it further, Hongjian devoted herself wholly to employing “Convergence of Myriad Streams.” She had long discovered that this martial technique consumed little of her true essence, especially when compared to her experience with the magic weapon “Moon Surge.” In the dense fog, her true essence recovered rapidly, allowing her to absorb the mist almost without pause.

Time passed; it felt as if she had drawn only a few basins of water from an endless, misty lake—her surroundings showed not the slightest change. The monotony, tedium, and lack of tangible gain tested Hongjian’s patience to the utmost. Just then, she suddenly sensed a change in her technique—the true essence stirred a vast swath of fog, clearing a vision within three yards around her: the technique had leveled up.

Hongjian was overjoyed, thinking, “So this martial art can be upgraded after all. At least my efforts weren’t in vain.” At Snowdrift Cliff, it would have been impossible for her to practice martial techniques so freely; now that she had the chance, she intended to make the most of it. But after only a short while, Hongjian frowned and stopped. With the upgrade, each use of “Convergence of Myriad Streams” absorbed so much spiritual mist that, with her current cultivation, it took quite a while to expel it all from her body. Not only did this greatly reduce her efficiency, but if she advanced another level, she might not be able to contain it at all—would her body not risk exploding? Clearly, this technique could not be improved without limit.

With this realization, Hongjian saw no need to continue meditating. She stood, and in the interval between two uses of “Convergence of Myriad Streams,” chose a direction and set off. The fog-covered land was vast; she walked for most of the day before anything changed.

Ahead, a massive black boulder blocked her path completely. Its height was unknown; the cliff face was smooth as if carved by blade and axe, with nowhere to find a foothold. The entire surface was glossy and jet-black. If not for the instant clarity brought by her technique, Hongjian would never have learned these details—the boulder seemed to possess a powerful resistance to spiritual sense, blocking it completely within a foot, let alone penetrating through.

Remembering her other purpose for entering the secret realm, Hongjian retrieved “Moon Surge” from her spatial pouch and struck the cliff face with all her might. The result was deeply disappointing: the wall was unimaginably hard, not even a scratch left where she struck. Her notion of breaking off a few pieces to take back was nothing but wishful thinking.

Left with no choice, Hongjian followed along the stone wall, searching for a way through. After a short distance, she casually used “Convergence of Myriad Streams” again. In that fleeting moment of clarity, she suddenly noticed a hint of pale yellow high up on the cliff.

What was that? Hongjian stopped and looked up, waiting. The moment the discomfort in her body faded, she cast her technique again. This time, she saw clearly: a single delicate flower grew in solitary splendor on the jet-black wall. Its stem was slender, leafless, the petals trembling at the tip as though the slightest disturbance in the air would cause it to wither.

A flower so fragile growing from stone so hard—nothing in this secret realm conformed to common sense.

Hongjian stowed “Moon Surge” away, and, borrowing the clarity granted by her technique, studied the flower carefully, making sure not to miss any detail. After retreating a few steps, she leapt up, planted both feet against the cliff for leverage, steadied herself with her left hand, and deftly plucked the flower with her right.

She had no idea what the flower was or what purpose it served, but she stored it in her spatial pouch for now—she could investigate once she got out. No longer finding her technique a bother, Hongjian carefully searched the wall and found several more identical flowers, collecting them all.

Just then, the world opened up before her. The towering cliff ended, the fog thinned greatly, and her spiritual sense easily probed beyond—the exit to the outside was found.

She had undoubtedly missed many flowers growing on the wall, but after a moment’s hesitation, Hongjian decided to leave. Wasting time for a few unknown flowers was less wise than exploring other parts of the secret realm.

She slipped through a fissure and finally emerged from the mist. Looking back from a greater distance, she could faintly make out the contours of mountains amidst the lingering fog. The place she had just left must have been a valley.

Now Hongjian walked along a mountain path, a small stream murmuring at her side, its waters clear to the bottom. Pines and cypresses grew sporadically by the road—species common in the outside world. Following the stream for a while, Hongjian stopped, frowning; something felt amiss. Since leaving the misty valley, everything she saw seemed all too ordinary. Were she to let her mind wander for a moment, she might think she had left the secret realm and was back on Dan Cliff Mountain.

Except she had not seen another soul.

The thought had barely crossed her mind when the trees thickened before her. Passing through a small copse, Hongjian stopped and gazed ahead—far in the distance stood a sizable town. The stream flowed straight into the settlement; whether it became a pond or ran through the town, she could not tell. Courtyards lined the streets, red-tiled walls rose high—a town that must house thousands.

Hongjian extended her spiritual sense; within the town, people were busy trading, working—most were ordinary folk, or cultivators weaker than herself. Yet she also sensed several places where her spiritual sense was strongly repelled—at least a few Foundation Establishment cultivators resided there.

How could such a large town exist in the secret realm? Who lived inside? Could those Foundation Establishment cultivators be senior brothers who entered with her? She had been alone since entering the secret realm; now, faced with such a bizarre situation, with no one to consult, she hesitated.

Strangely, gazing from afar, the town looked vaguely familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere before.

Confronted with such strangeness, the fourteen-year-old Hongjian instinctively wanted to avoid it—return to the valley or seek another path. She turned to leave, but after wandering through the woods, Hongjian was alarmed to find she could not find any other way. Entering the town had become her only choice.