Chapter 15: The Miasma, Snakes, and Insects
Chapter 15: The Miasma, Snakes, and Insects
Darting and weaving in his fluttering white robes, Second Young Master Fang navigated the strange and complex maze on the Academy’s Rear Mountain. To spectators both above and below, he seemed completely unbothered by the endless shifts and changes. Countless onlookers stared in stunned silence. The Academy Instructors and Elder Mentors were speechless. Even the ordinary folk of Willow Lake City and the Academy Disciples watching stood dumbfounded, secretly amazed.
They had all seen many people attempt to traverse the Academy’s Rear Mountain over the years: famous Wanderers from the martial world or poor scholars from humble backgrounds, disheartened by their studies, who came to take a desperate chance. Yet, once they entered this daunting terrain, the outcome was usually the same. Spluttering in confusion, stepping back and forth, looking right and left, or circling round and round. Some stopped in their tracks after just a few paces. Others disappeared completely after a short while.
But now, Second Young Master Fang offered quite a different spectacle. To everyone’s surprise, he appeared as leisurely as if he were taking a stroll in his own backyard.
High above, some Instructors knew the secret and exchanged knowing glances. Others, who discerned the trick, merely smiled faintly to themselves, choosing not to reveal anything about it to anyone.
“The confusion array ahead is manageable, but what comes later will be the real trouble…”
Among them, a young Instructor wearing a blue robe sighed and shook his head slightly.
At that very moment, Fang Cun’s figure flickered unpredictably, his steps nimble. Before long, he had already covered one-third of the distance, delving deep into the Rear Mountain. Before him, beneath the glow of the newly risen sun, a faint, rising haze of purple vapor became visible.
“It’s here!” exclaimed one of the Willow Lake City spectators watching from afar, excited about the event unfolding in front of them. “Quite a few over the years managed to get past the first section… though none as quickly as our Second Young Master Fang… But of those who cleared the first section, eight out of ten died within that strange fog. Often, people would start swaying as they walked through it, some bursting into tears, others laughing uncontrollably, some even ripping off their clothes entirely…”
Another bystander added to the point, their voice filled with grim agreement, “That’s right! Absolutely true. Remember that young lady three months ago? Stripped completely bare before she died, she did…”
Hearing this discourse not far from him, Elder Fang’s legs nearly gave way beneath him.
……
……
“This is the Peach Blossom Miasma?”
Halfway through his progress, Fang Cun paused for a heartbeat at a fork in the path. His eyes focused on the faint, ethereal mist curling ahead.
A faint, sweet fragrance teased his nostrils. His head felt just slightly fuzzy.
He knew what this meant: it was the Rear Mountain’s second perilous challenge.
He wouldn’t only need to continue figuring out the shifting pathways of the maze; he’d also have to contend with this eerie and terrifying Peach Blossom Miasma.
It was early morning. The miasma grew especially thick at these hours, making passage more difficult than usual. The Academy employed it intentionally placed this barrier as a test for students who made it this far. Even a whiff of the miasma disturbed one’s spirit. Inhaling deeper induced erratic and unstable behavior. If one persisted and refused to retreat? When the miasma became heavy enough, it could be lethal. To pass safely required one completely unbroken hold on one’s breath without any chance of breathing the vapor in the slightest.
If someone could actually hold their breath and cross the entire expanse of this miasmatic haze? That would demonstrate their Innate Qi was remarkably strong.
Just looking at the thick fog spread before him, easily blanketing nearly a hundred zhang, Fang Cun couldn’t help a wry smile. Could anyone relying solely on their own skill – navigating a shifting maze while simultaneously holding their breath the entire way – manage to traverse it using only their Innate Qi?
Thoughts flickered rapidly through his mind. Suddenly, his pace quickened. Without any hesitation at all, he stepped right into the miasma-saturated area. With wide, sweeping motions of his sleeves, he fanned the vapor away. Then, he moved faster and faster, almost floating above the ground rather than stepping on it. Fang Cun dashed down the paths winding through the haze like a ghost on wheels.
“Huh?”
At first, seeing him plunge into the miasma provoked no special reaction. But when observers noticed that Fang Cun’s speed didn’t drop the slightest bit while moving within the poisonous haze – in fact, it only increased – and he had already traversed half of it within moments? Several Academy Instructors finally expressed slight surprise. One stated slowly, “Supposedly holding his breath, he’s traveled dozens of zhang now, and moves faster. He seems entirely unaffected. That strikes me as… unusual.”
Beside him, another Instructor frowned, remarking doubtfully, “It’s practically impossible for anyone to hold their breath continuously full distance while covering over hundred zhang without breathing!”
“Precisely!”
Even Zhang Shixian shook his head as he stood nearby. His brows drew together in thought. He offered a possible explanation: “Perhaps he manages to catch brief gasps of rare, less-concentrated patches of air tucked within the haze? An intermittent breather, if you will…?”
Nearby Disciples expressed astonishment: “Such a vast distance! Even sneaking tiny, quick breaths occasionally is incredible if he actually managed it!”
“True enough!” Zhang Shixian finally heaved a sigh. A mask of great admiration spread across his face. He concluded simply, “Likely our late Immortal Master Fang Chi gave his little brother profound tips before his passing.”
“Ahh…”
Many nearby inclined their heads thoughtfully. They exchanged knowing nods of agreement among themselves.
……
……
Fang Cun had held no breath. He didn’t even need to pinch his nose shut intentionally.
Enclosed under his tongue lay the small piece of “Miasma-Repelling Pill” – an item valued at an astounding one thousand taels of silver!
It came from Instructor Zhang Shixian. Zhang had discreetly inquired with a specialist colleague whose area was concocting potent toxins and protective cures against malignant vapors. This teacher crafted this cure with his own hands.
They had explicitly informed Fang Cun: pressing this pill beneath one’s tongue guaranteed safe passage through the Miasma unscathed and unphased. More cleverly, the medicine’s duration balanced meticulously to his trip. As soon as he cleared the Rear Mountain? Its effects faded completely and abandoned his system leaving absolutely no remnant of trace behind. Should critics question whether he’d relied on an antidote afterward? Even if his blood were later inspected, no lingering medicine signature would remain detectable.
Going through the backdoor offered such considerate, thorough service!
Naturally, Fang Cun cared little about how much clever Instructor Zhang shared his handsome payment with this expert behind the scenes.
……
……
“Good heavens! He actually crossed the entire patch!”
The crowd of excited onlookers roared happily together as they watched Second Young Master Fang: he never wept, never laughed unnaturally, never stripped a single lace! He passed straight through that dreadful fog seamlessly and effortlessly. Everyone cheered loudly. Who imagined? Willow Lake City’s most notorious prodigal son, Second Master Fang? Turns out he hid remarkable depths all along! Observing him clearly pass two-thirds of the Rear Mountain? Now within striking distance of the Academy’s imposing gate…
Even Elder Fang watched his son proceed without obvious struggle and shock pierced his astonishment: “Can this youngster truly be my own flesh and blood?”
Right then, within the boundary formation on the mountain path, trouble erupted suddenly around Fang Cun.
Whoosh!
Freshly having crossed the worst patch of miasma with thought of a deep, freeing breath? Fang Cun suddenly tensed. His razor-sharp senses flared into action. From the corner of his eye, he caught movement. Before him stood a luxuriant emerald-bright tree, its branches swaying ever so slightly. Closer scrutiny revealed not a branch, but a creature coiling along the bough: a serpent, its entire body shade matching the wood perfectly, with patterns emulating tree bark.
Flick
It abruptly launched itself! Snapping jaws poised to sink fangs into its target: Fang Cun’s vulnerable neck!
“Spirit Snake!”
The Academy’s Rear Mountain abounded with ambient dark influences and poisonous miasmas. Those treacherous auras seeped into valley life — especially resident reptiles and insects — triggering unnatural mutations. While none attained truly monstrous proportions—no creature reached twenty zhang-long or possessed the power to flatten mountainsides—the resulting toxins reached horrifying, highly concentrated levels…
One touch was enough.
The tickle of its venom-tipped fangs? That incidental brush guaranteed immediate death!
Earlier, Instructor Zhang Shixian appropriately warned Fang Cun about these critters. However, Zhang openly admitted an uncomfortable truth: providing meaningful help against them? Impossible.
The specific Instructor who actually nurtured and controlled these strange, oversized creatures? Her relationship with Zhang remained purely formal. Asking her for even the slightest favor? Out of the question. Still, slight consolation existed: the Academy itself worried deeply about poisonous specimens escaping to harm surrounding villager homesteads. Consequently, the instructors strictly limited the breeding numbers. Only small batches remained…
No need for huge numbers…
One bite? Just one? That’s plenty sufficient to end any intruder’s life…
At that life-or-death pinnacle? Every hair on Fang Cun’s neck stood rigidly erect. Electricity seemed jolting through his core. Reflexes kicked in, barely ahead of the snapping jaws. Frenetically, he twisted violently sideways. Simultaneously, his wrist flicked sharp. The “Old Umbrella” tucked beneath his arm appeared in his hand, like magic. Instantly interpreting it as a weapon guard? Fang Cun swept the sturdy umbrella forcibly upward. It powered as a battering ram against the springing serpent. Thwack! The horrific green-bodied body flew violently backwards.
The hideous snake thumped onto dirt ground. Muscles rippled wildly beneath its iridescent scales. Its hisses of fury resonated menacingly.
Sweat beads trickled down Fang Cun’s forehead; he quickly wiped them away with his sleeve. His sprinting feet refused any lingering cessation. He accelerated immediately, rushing frantically forward in his escape attempt.
Thankfully, even though Fang hadn’t formally cultivated Qi Refining student inside the Academy halls? His affluent family expended vast fortunes: countless teachers anonymously instructed him in the martial arts during the long preceding decade. Maybe because the vivid dream-land fantasies involving life as a romantic, worldly swordsman repeatedly unfolded in previous night’s slumber? Consequently, he dedicated exceptional attention and tireless discipline mastering physical combat maneuvers. Strength level? Comparatively low due to poor Innate Qi foundation. Possibility of he ever reaching true martial peak? Doubtful. However, seventeen years of dedicated practice sufficed admirably for… guarding against snakes and bugs deterrence? Very much!
Rustle… Rustle…
Nearby foliage stirred abruptly. Green reflections swarmed like pulses through nearby foliage thicket.
Dry grasses alongside the trail bent unnaturally aside. Fleeting black-gleaming patterns glimpsed underneath…
Taking powerful strides forward? Suddenly? It looked as if he disturbed smooth spirit lake surface tranquility… immediate tumultuous commotion radiated outwards. Ripples in reality?
Creeping snakes… crawling insects… swelling mosquitoes and biting flies… Even some abnormally mutated songbirds descended angrily as attacks intensified near its disturbance source — Fang Cun himself!
Emerging stealthily from ambushes concealed among landscapes? All converged simultaneously toward the lone human intruder now!
Surveying the terrifying spectacle of innumerable creatures swarming simultaneously inevitably created a scalping crawl over Fang Cun’s backside. Internally, he cursed bitterly: “Well said, few snakes?! How funny! Actually? Its absolutely crawling monstrous LEGION around here!”
“Uh-oh! Friends, recall those poor souls from the past? Remember them closely.”
Witnesses watching this spectacle unfold from distant vantage points couldn’t discern accurate details regarding the terrifying swarm. Nevertheless, they immediately noticed sudden chaotic movements Fang Cun struggled amid his intended route. Within them, someone suddenly recalled grimly: “True, few ever made it through that misty corridor. Does anyone bear into mind? The strange legend about Rear Mountain fate? When challengers fail, they inevitably die. However… styles of death… diverged significantly…”
“Certain remains… recovered… others… vanished mysteriously forever…”
Another bystander felt consumed by curiosity: “Old Brother? You definitely seem the seasoned spectator here? Quickly tell us… how were the victim types divided?”
Grinned widely with strange enthusiasm: “Those perishing near the beginning stage could typically be located afterward… those later vanished without trace entirely…”
“Why?”
“Totally devoured… Savagely consumed piece by piece…”
“Oh dear gods!!!”
Elder Fang overheard that chilling description, trembled uncontrollably, and almost slumped onto the ground.
Watching tensely inside the Academy? Instructors focused intently like lasers toward the proceedings trailing Fang Cun on the mountain slope. Among the instructors stood a cloaked old woman draped entirely somberly. Observing Fang Cun encircled entirely by snake-like structures overlapping insect hordes? Her expression remained chillingly impassive. Only immense pleasure flickered tempestuously in her dark pupils? Cruelly? Hungrily? Eyes dilated. She intended missing not even the tiniest moment. What anticipated satisfaction lay witnessing when predator jaws inevitably exploded closing upon tenderly human flesh? Tearing bloodily chunk from limb? Consuming inch-by-aching-inch…?
“Our hands… really tied… No aid possible now…”
Even Zhang Shixian merely sighed deeply at that moment, shaking his head helplessly.
“Unfair luck! Even heroes with backdoor PRIVILEGE encounter what?”
Faced instantly as living target within voracious predator tidal wave? Fang Cun’s expression instantly solidified into grim determination. They had him pinned? Absolutely ZERO hesitation time remained. Instantly? He sharply expanded wide the Old Umbrella cover — Thwack! A resounding crack echoed as its sturdy canopy violently knocked considerable masses of wriggling snakes and bugs flying backward violently! Yet importantly: the shielding surface protected merely a limited frontal arc. Hostiles crept uninhibitedly to his flanks and rear!
With one hand firmly grasping the umbrella canopy… Fang Cun swept deft spins to deflect blows encircling him? Simultaneously? Subtlety moved his right hand… smoothly twisting grip…
Shiiiing!
Hidden within the umbrella… lay an exceptionally narrow blade fitted perfectly within its core! Yanking gracefully outward? Extracted the long, wickedly sharp silver-steel sword! Brilliant silver streaks sparkled wildly as its edge separated snake and insect flesh with relentless precision. Creatures merely touched? Severed immediately in halves. Snake segments flailed frantically upon dirt floor.
This identity cloak sword? Named fittingly SILVER Serpent.
Fang Cun executed fluid synchronization: the expanded canopy providing shielding arc defenses ahead; slashing blade carving silver destruction furiously all around himself! Chopping swarming remains? Steadily moved him forward toward freedom’s goal.