Chapter 177: Underground Water Curtain

Led by Poison Shadow Elder, Mu Feng and Jing Wushuang crossed the Poison Sect’s mountain gates and arrived at an annex courtyard built with blue bricks and black tiles.

Viewed from outside, the valley hid beneath clouds and mist, shadowy and damp. But upon entering, they discovered another world. The land spread wide and open, everywhere shaded by green trees with birdsong and floral scents. Small wooden huts hugged the mountains alongside streams. No grand luxury of wealthy families, no majestic palaces—only an atmosphere strikingly fresh and graceful.

The Poison Sect, a name feared by many, contained none of the expected darkness or wickedness. Instead, it felt like a community of spirits guarding the Hengling Mountain Range, living in tune with nature, embracing stillness, merging harmoniously with the wild.

Courteous and warm, Poison Shadow Elder soon filled a table before Mu Feng and Jing Wushuang with wild fruits unique to the mountain range. After discussing, Mu Feng quickly grasped the true identity of the Black-clad Woman. To his surprise, she was no ordinary disciple, but Murong Xue—sole daughter of the Poison Sect’s Sect Leader.

No wonder the unforgiving Patrol Elder had dared not speak in Murong Xue’s presence!

Mu Feng saw the light, finally grasping why the Patrol Elder—that stubborn woman—had backed down instantly at Murong Xue’s intervention.

“How could the daughter of the Sect Leader leave alone and get chased by so many Sky-Reaching Guards?”

Another puzzle nudged Mu Feng’s mind, replaying the scene of the fierce hunt. He thought of probing into the matter, but seeing the veil on Murong Xue’s face, he reconsidered after a moment. Their journey here had one purpose: the Yang Soul Pills. Other questions were unnecessary.

“Young Master Mu, please—this is fine Bamboo Green tea.”

After instructing a maidservant to serve hot tea, Poison Shadow Elder took a gentle sip. Casually probing, she inquired, “How is Young Master Fei Fei lately? Has she mentioned returning to our sect? By your presence, you two share a special bond with her. What exactly is your connection?”

“Well…”

Sharing a glance with Jing Wushuang and hesitating briefly, Mu Feng continued, “Years ago, Granny Li suffered severe injuries, nearly dying in wilderness hills. By chance, we discovered her and saved her life. After recovering, she bid us call her Granny and taught us her skills. Shuang’er focused on her medical arts, while I trained in cultivation. Granny passed down treasures and powers like the Eighteen Yin Wind Command Banners, Visualization Great Art, and the Yin Wind Formation.”

Half-truths flowed as Mu Feng watched subtly for reactions from Poison Shadow Elder and the veiled Murong Xue.

Though he’d rescued Murong Xue—which should shield them—he stayed alert. Ghost Mother’s identity formed another layer of security.

Nicknamed “Young Master,” Ghost Mother surely held far deeper ties than merely being Sect Leader Murong’s junior sister. If the Poison Sect considered hostility, this bond would give them pause. Relaxing slightly didn’t ease the unease: the Sect’s initial reaction to Ghost Mother’s name still felt strangely tense.

“So that explains it!”

Poison Shadow Elder nodded, recollecting the summoned Eighteen Blood Witch Commands. Just as she urged more fruit tasting, a servant approached, whispering in her ear. After agreement, she rose. “In that case, you two are half-members of our Poison Sect. Come! I’ll bring you to meet the Sect Leader!”

“Great! Thank you, Elder!”

Eyes brightening, Mu Feng stood alongside Jing Wushuang and followed Poison Shadow Elder away.

Passing woods and a clear lake, they reached a grim cave. Two robed women guarding the entrance instantly bowed at Poison Shadow Elder and Murong Xue’s figures, stepping aside for passage.

Chilling winds swept the cave entrance; cold deepened within. As they descended, ceiling drips echoed. Damp, chilling air crawled around them. This place rushed Mu Feng’s memory to Ghost Mother’s Yin Wind Cave—equally gloomy, unfathomably deep.

“Young Master Mu—watch your step near Mother. Keep utmost care!”

While Poison Shadow Elder walked ahead unnoticed, Black-clad Murong Xue slowed her steps, slipping Mu Feng a slip of paper and a pill.

Opening the note revealed a rushed map, scribbled markings detailing guard posts, deadly restrictions, and hidden traps. The thumb-sized pill felt warm, smelling softly fragrant—likely an antidote.

“My thanks, Lady Murong.”

Memorizing the map swiftly, Mu Feng crumbled the paper, swallowed it. Witnessing his caution, Murong Xue smiled behind her veil and strode ahead.

What kind of person was the Poison Sect Leader?

Watching Murong Xue’s graceful figure disappear into cold passageways, Mu Feng’s tension sharpened as the cave grew eerier.

Her silent warning amplified his dread.

If her own daughter advised caution about this Sect Leader—how terrifying must she be?

Splash… splash…

After roughly an hour traversing chilling darkness, they halted before an underground lake. Ahead lay inky waters unseen below. A torrent poured from above, forming a roaring water curtain. Below the surface, lake water swirled—something monstrous stirring, faint roars rolling beneath.

Beyond the watery veil stood a vast cavern ending in an ancient pentagonal altar. Upon it sat a white-robed woman. From afar, her figure seemed slender as a young maiden, waist pinched elegantly; but like Poison Shadow Elder, a heavy veil covered her face completely.

“I, Poison Shadow, greet Sect Leader. I have brought Young Master Mu and company as tasked.”

Across the curtain, Poison Shadow Elder deeply bowed.

“Good. Now they’ve arrived, enter.” Cold, detached words echoed behind the water curtain. “At last you send people back, Junior Sister Feifei.”

Then the wall of water parted, opening a narrow gap scarcely passable by one.

“Beware the water curtain! Do not touch a single drop—death swiftly follows!” Poison Shadow gravely warned, standing aside herself as Murong Xue leaped through first.

“Thanks for the warning!”

Embracing Jing Wushuang tight, Mu Feng inhaled deeply. He tapped his toe lightly against the floor and leaped.

His wide sleeve brushed a single falling droplet.

Ssss!

Instantly, a hole burned through the fabric.