The vision within the Three Lives Stone froze at the precise moment before Xiao Yifeng’s induction into the sect. Then, abruptly, the image shattered.
It was as if the ancient artifact had simply given up. Abandoning its attempt to pry into Xiao Yifeng’s past, the stone reversed its flow, pouring a majestic torrent of essence back into Su Miaoqing. However, the quantity paled in comparison to the deluge Xiao Yifeng had received.
Instead of a raw energy flood, the essence coalesced in mid-air, forming a single, terrifying drop of golden blood.
It pulsed with an ancient, tyrannical aura. As it dripped onto Su Miaoqing’s forehead, the reaction was instantaneous. Roaring flames erupted from her body, bathing her in a divine, golden conflagration.
A line of glowing text surfaced on the face of the stone: “Undying Phoenix Bird. Karma too deeply entwined with a Heaven-Defying existence. Future: Unknowable.”
With a sickening crack, a fissure raced across the stone’s surface. It seemed infuriated by the result, violently repelling Su Miaoqing with an invisible force. A thick, viscous curtain of blood materialized around the stone, sealing it off completely, as if it refused to interact with these monstrosities any longer.
Xiao Yifeng moved like a blur, catching Su Miaoqing before she hit the ground. The flames clinging to her skin grew increasingly volatile, threatening to consume her. His expression hardened. He pressed two fingers against her forehead, channeling his own qi to suppress the terrifying power of the golden blood.
The others watched, their eyes gleaming with naked avarice. Even a fool could see that the golden droplet was the Source Blood of the Undying Phoenix—her past life’s very essence.
Possessing it meant possessing the ability to generate Phoenix Essence Blood endlessly. With enough time, one could ostensibly achieve rebirth, gaining the immortality of the Phoenix itself. And right now, Su Miaoqing had not yet refined it. It was still up for grabs.
The air grew heavy with tension. Daoist Lingyun’s breathing became ragged; his foundation was damaged, and his lifespan waned. To him, this divine object was not just a treasure—it was salvation. It offered a chance to repair his Dao and reclaim his future.
Sensing the predatory intent locking onto the girl in his arms, Xiao Yifeng’s expression turned icy.
"This Source Blood shares a bloodline origin with my Junior Sister. For anyone else, it is likely a lethal poison," Wuchen’s voice rang out, cold and laced with arrogance. "I advise you all to restrain your greed. Do not force this seat to show no mercy."
His threat, backed by the mystery of his identity, doused their ardor like a bucket of ice water. The group averted their gazes, though the flicker of scheming light in their eyes remained.
Ignoring them, Xiao Yifeng focused on Su Miaoqing. Absorbing such violent power raw would shatter her foundation. He placed a palm against her back, acting as a conduit to vent the impurities. A massive wave of Spiritual Qi vented from her body, dissipating into the void.
The skill and control required to filter another’s qi so effortlessly made the bystanders’ eyes widen. Their estimation of 'Wuchen' rose another notch. He was not merely powerful; he was profound.
Slowly, the chaotic aura around Su Miaoqing stabilized. Yet, even after venting the excess, the sheer potency of the remaining energy propelled her cultivation upward, settling firmly at the seventh layer of Foundation Establishment.
Su Miaoqing’s lashes fluttered. When she opened her eyes, a flash of tyrannical gold swirled within her pupils—a gaze filled with ancient brutality. For a heartbeat, Xiao Yifeng feared the memories of the Undying Bird had consumed her.
But the moment her eyes focused on his face, the brutality vanished, replaced by clarity. Though she had been in a trance, she retained a vague awareness of the outside world.
"Did I... cause trouble again?" she whispered, her voice laced with anxiety.
Xiao Yifeng chuckled, the cold mask of Wuchen slipping for just a second as he patted her head. "Nonsense. You’ve encountered a heaven-sent Fated Chance. This is a joyous occasion."
She pouted at the head-pat, treating her like a child, but a smile tugged at her lips. Seventh layer of Foundation Establishment. Finally, she wouldn't be a dead weight.
"Why can we no longer approach the Three Lives Stone?" Lin Xiao’s voice broke the moment.
He had been waiting for his turn. Seeing Su Miaoqing step away, he tried to move forward, only to be rebuffed by the swirling blood barrier sealing the stone. Liu Yue attempted to touch the barrier as well, but his hand was repelled by a chaotic force.
"It seems the Three Lives Stone was thoroughly frightened by Fellow Daoist Wuchen and this Fairy," Luo Yun remarked, her expression a contortion of amusement and disbelief. "It seems it has decided to close up shop rather than deal with our group."
Lin Xiao grit his teeth in frustration. He had hesitated for a mere moment, and now the opportunity was gone. Because these two freaks had broken the artifact, the Three Lives Stone had essentially gone into seclusion. What kind of monsters are they?
"Two Fellow Daoists with extraordinary origins..." Wang Laoxie’s voice was raspy, his one good eye narrowing. "One who defies the Heavens, and a reincarnated Phoenix. It seems your lives are destined for greatness."
There was a hidden barb in his words, a probing suspicion.
"You actually put stock in this counterfeit stone?" Xiao Yifeng countered smoothly, his tone dripping with disdain. "If it were the true Three Lives Stone of legend, do you think mere cultivators like us could crack it?"
He deflected the suspicion by attacking the dungeon's authenticity. With the stone inaccessible, the group had no choice but to press on, though the atmosphere was now thick with mutual distrust. Xiao Yifeng quietly palmed several high-grade talismans, sending a mental transmission to Su Miaoqing to stay alert.
They walked through the gloom for another half-hour until the mist parted to reveal a chilling sight.
Ahead of them stretched a long, silent queue of spirits. These souls were translucent, their expressions slack and numb, shuffling forward with mechanical obedience.
"Playing at ghosts and gods," Wang Laoxie sneered, though his hand drifted to his weapon. "If I’m not mistaken, ahead lies the so-called Bridge of Helplessness. Let us follow."
"This humble girl is curious..." Mo Shuiyao’s voice chimed in, soft and alluring. Her cultivation had surged, and with it, her confidence. "I wonder if we shall truly meet the legendary Meng Po?"
Despite witnessing the Yellow Springs Road and the Three Lives Stone, none of them truly believed this was the actual Yin Cavern. It was, at best, a terrifyingly accurate imitation.
Guided by the procession of the dead, they marched for another hour until the landscape opened up into a vast, oppressive cavern.
There, spanning the abyss, was the Bridge of Helplessness.
It was a magnificent, ancient structure of pitch-black stone, stretching thousands of feet across the void. The bridge was divided into three distinct tiers: the upper deck glowed a faint, ominous red; the middle was a murky dark yellow; and the lowest tier was obsidian black, narrow and jagged, hanging perilously close to the abyss.
Below the bridge roared the River of Forgetfulness. The waters were not water, but a slurry of lost souls and resentment. Yin winds howled like dying beasts, and the wails of countless malevolent ghosts clawing at the bridge’s pillars echoed through the cavern.
On the banks, white bones were piled into mountains, creating a landscape of ivory death. The air reeked of sulfur and old blood, a sensory assault that made one’s scalp numb.
Yet, amidst the stench of rot, a metallic tang of fresh blood wafted from the bridge itself.
At the bridgehead stood a towering black stele, carved with three blood-red characters: Nai He Qiao—Bridge of Helplessness.
Beside the stele stood a figure.
A woman in white robes, pristine as driven snow. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of ink. A thin, diaphanous veil obscured her face, hiding her features but doing nothing to diminish her ethereal, ghostly elegance.
She held a solitary blue lantern in her hand. The flame flickered, casting long, dancing shadows. She stood motionless, radiating a terrifying serenity and a gaze of boundless compassion.
The line of numb spirits bowed respectfully to her before accepting a bowl from her hands, drinking it, and stepping onto the bridge.
"There’s actually someone here?" The cultivators tensed, their spiritual senses flaring. "Is that really Meng Po? This Immortal Abode’s dedication to detail is horrifying."
As they drew closer, they noticed smaller text carved onto the stele: “The virtuous walk the Upper Layer. The mixed walk the Middle Layer. The wicked walk the Lower Layer.”
Lingyun glanced at the stone but quickly looked away, his greed tempered by the memory of the Three Lives Stone. Once bitten, twice shy.
Sensing the living intruders, the woman in white turned. Her eyes crinkled in a smile beneath the veil.
"Do you gentlemen also wish to cross the Bridge of Helplessness?"
"Is this Fairy the legendary Meng Po?" Lin Xiao stepped forward, puffing out his chest. He flashed a charming smile, his lust for beauty momentarily overriding his caution.
"If you wish to call me Meng Po, then I am Meng Po. It is but a title," the woman replied, her voice drifting like smoke. "However, I am indeed the Keeper of this Bridge."
"What are the requirements to pass?" Luo Yun asked, her hand gripping her sword hilt.
"Once you step onto the Bridge of Helplessness, there is no turning back," Meng Po said gently. "To cross, you must drink the Soup of Oblivion from my hand."
Mo Shuiyao narrowed her eyes. "If we drink this soup, will it be as the legends say? Will we forget our past and present, wiping our slate clean?"
"Naturally," Meng Po nodded. "That is the price of passage. However, if you are unwilling to drink..." She pointed a slender finger toward the howling abyss below. "You may leap into the River of Forgetfulness. Endure the gnawing of the worms and the crushing waves for a hundred years, and you may cross."
The group exchanged dark glances.
Drink a mysterious liquid that promises mind-wiping? Impossible. Jump into a river full of vengeful ghosts? Absurd.
The only option left was violence.
They scanned Meng Po. She radiated no cultivation base, appearing as fragile as a mortal woman. Yet, the unease in their hearts was palpable. That blue lantern she held... just looking at it made their souls tremble.
"Hmph. Mere theatrics," Liu Yue scoffed, stepping forward with aggressive intent. "And if I choose to neither drink nor jump, but simply force my way across?"
Meng Po did not anger. She merely tilted her head, her eyes curving into a smile that didn't reach her soul.
"You are welcome to try."
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