Chapter Twelve: The Nether River Ravine
Upon hearing his master’s words, Nuo Tian’s brow twitched with a faint trace of dark lines. “Little one, do you even realize? These three characters were carved by the Patriarch Ni Long himself, and they bear his Daoist intent. To this day, no one has been able to challenge it. Even my senior brother, Bai Long, was defeated by it, and once even suffered spiritual damage. Yet you, brat, managed to break free from it so easily—I don’t even know what to say to you!” Fu Tianji sighed helplessly.
The two did not dwell on the matter further and soon approached the sect’s entrance. Although they were at the front, the true gates lay nearly a kilometer away. Seeing his master ready to proceed on foot, Nuo Tian found it odd.
“Little one, this is the custom. Not only must we disciples walk when entering the sect, but so must visiting members from other sects,” Fu Tianji explained gently, seeing his disciple’s confusion.
“Why?” Nuo Tian asked plainly and directly.
Fu Tianji lifted his head. “Do you think the Patriarch carved those three words for fun? Whoever dares to fly here, whether disciple or guest, will be struck down by the Patriarch’s Daoist intent.”
Nuo Tian said no more. The two soon reached the sect gates, where several massive stones overlapped, exquisitely carved, and the three characters stood at the center—simple, yet imposing. Forty or fifty disciples guarded the entrance; upon seeing who approached, they were visibly shocked. “Disciple greets Elder!” Those posted at the gate were all seasoned, and everyone knew well the legendary, elusive Master of the Divine Dragon Hall.
Fu Tianji merely nodded and led Nuo Tian inside.
“Who is that young man? How is he with the Divine Dragon Hall Master?” came the murmurs from the disciples behind them.
Beyond the gates was a stairway straight into the clouds, the far end shrouded in mist, its destination unknown.
“Little one, this is our sect. Although I am the Master of the Divine Dragon Hall, I seldom reside there. My abode is in a gorge along the River of the Dead, which I call the River of the Dead Ravine. It wasn’t much before, but now I’ve turned it into a paradise,” Fu Tianji said, then, without further ado, took Nuo Tian with him and soared into the depths.
They arrived at the mouth of a valley, where a small branch of the River of the Dead flowed in. Even from outside, Nuo Tian could faintly hear the sound of water crashing. Inside, a mighty waterfall thundered down into a pool, which connected to the river itself. At the entrance, on a sheer cliff, three large characters spelled out “River of the Dead Ravine.” Though not as grand as those at the main gate, the inscription still exuded power.
“This is my cultivation cave, the River of the Dead Ravine. Not bad, eh?” Fu Tianji said, brimming with pride.
As soon as they entered, a white figure emerged from a cave residence and gracefully descended before them. “Disciple greets Master.”
“Linglong, rise,” Fu Tianji said, lifting his beloved disciple with a wave.
Her delicate face was slightly rounded with baby fat, her bright eyes full of charm, her graceful figure draped in white gauze. Nuo Tian’s eyes lit up.
“Hey, little one, isn’t this disciple of mine quite something?” Fu Tianji teased shamelessly.
Nuo Tian was speechless. Dongfang Linglong regarded the young man with curiosity; his tender features revealed his youth, though she could not tell his cultivation. She was used to her master’s ways—this was simply how he was.
“Nuo Tian greets Senior Sister,” Nuo Tian said, bowing to the beauty before him.
“Master, what’s going on?” Linglong's bright, lovely eyes brimmed with curiosity.
“Mm, Nuo Tian is your junior. I took him in just a few days ago,” Fu Tianji replied, stroking his beard.
“Master, you’ve taken in another disciple? Greetings, Junior Brother!” Linglong was surprised, but quickly returned the courtesy.
“Why are you alone? Where are the others?” Fu Tianji asked, seeing only one disciple after waiting at the entrance for so long.
“Master, Senior Brother is still away training, and the others are in seclusion,” Linglong answered helplessly.
Nuo Tian was taken aback, then remarked with a comment that surprised Linglong, “Old man, your disciples don’t seem to respect you much!”
Hearing this, Fu Tianji was instantly furious. What was going on? These brats were making him lose face before their new junior. It was well known among the disciples that the Divine Dragon Hall’s students were the least deferential and the hardest to deal with, but now, the revered Hall Master, Fu Tianji, could no longer contain his anger. He gathered his energy and roared, “You little rascals! Your master is back—get out here!”
The deafening shout shook loose stones from the valley walls.
In one of the caves, a young man in golden robes opened his eyes at the sound. “What’s got that old man so riled up? Is he hurt? Who would dare harm my master?” With that, he rushed out.
In another cave, a young man in black, with a resolute face and sword-like brows, also opened his eyes. “That old bastard—he’s back, so what’s with the temper?” Suddenly, sensing someone familiar had already left his cave, he muttered, “Third Brother’s already gone. Did something happen?” He, too, vanished.
In a hidden cave beside the waterfall, a woman in black gauze sat cross-legged, her lustrous dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her stunning face tinged with coldness. Nangong Xue opened her eyes. “That smell of wine—I knew you’d returned.”
Linglong looked at her junior brother with surprise. Her master seemed to value him greatly, but this new disciple also looked like a handful. Linglong smiled. Seeing her master fuming, she grew even more curious about her new junior.
Soon, three figures arrived. The leading young man exuded an air of nobility and dominance—he seemed born to command. The young man behind him was wild, not mildly so, but to an extreme. The last was a woman, breathtakingly beautiful but with a cold aura—and Nuo Tian noticed she had only one arm, her left sleeve hanging empty.
The three saw their master seething with anger, as if ready to thrash them all. “Old man, what happened? Who bullied you? Tell me, and I, Yang Fantian, will avenge you in ten years,” Yang Fantian declared as if it were only natural. The other two were stunned by his words.
“Third Brother, why wait ten years for revenge? Why not now?” Meng Feiyun asked curiously.
“If even the old man suffered, the enemy must be formidable. Though the old man may not be much, he’s still powerful. So, to ensure victory, I’ll be absolutely ready in ten years,” Yang Fantian replied confidently.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Meng Feiyun agreed.
Their exchange drew a peal of laughter from Linglong, while Fu Tianji’s face darkened, shifting from black to purple.
Nuo Tian, standing nearby, was speechless. So these were his senior brothers and sister? What kind of teaching had the old man given them that they had no concept of respect for their master? Nuo Tian sighed for the misfortune of their sect.
If Fu Tianji knew what Nuo Tian was thinking, he would surely have berated him, “You have no right to criticize others—you’re the most disrespectful of them all!”
Yang Fantian and Meng Feiyun, unconcerned, paid no mind to their master’s changing moods. The old man seemed fine, so they didn’t care. But then they noticed a stranger in the valley, standing with their master.
Suppressing his frustration, Fu Tianji announced, “This little rascal is Xiao Nuotian, my newest disciple, your sixth junior.”
At his words, Yang Fantian and Meng Feiyun stared intently at Xiao Nuotian, and even Nangong Xue, who had been silent until now, fixed her gaze on her newly arrived junior.
For their master to call him a “little rascal,” this junior was clearly no ordinary person. When they had joined, even the eldest disciple hadn’t received such treatment.
Though all the disciples were casual with their master, it was based on years of mutual understanding and affection. Yet this junior seemed to have already offended their master before even entering the sect; otherwise, the master would never have called him a rascal.
Seeing his three senior brothers and sister staring, Nuo Tian stepped forward and bowed. “Greetings, Senior Brothers and Sister. I am Xiao Nuotian, the latest disciple of this old scoundrel.”
The three were stunned!