Chapter 49: The Meh River Battle Realm

Li Hao’s eyes flickered with renewed interest as he turned toward her.

“Beyond the Fourth Realm,” Su Yehua said, “practitioners have already transcended the Ordinary Stage. Each realm isn’t divided into ten levels—take the ‘Fifteen Li Stage,’ for example. Why the name? Because those who master the Art of Commanding Objects at this level can project their spirit across the heavens and earth, even riding their own body through the skies!”

“One breath covers one li. At maximum speed, they can traverse fifteen li in a single breath—hence the name.”

“Fifteen li in one breath?” Many were stunned. Such speed was nothing short of lightning-fast—enough to vanish across a city in an instant, leap mountains, cross provinces in the blink of an eye.

“At the Fifteen Li Stage, one can command flying swords to slay enemies from fifteen li away—no blood seen, yet the head is already severed!”

“That’s why only those who reach this stage are truly feared,” Su Yehua said calmly. “They kill without trace.”

“And what about the Human-Heaven Stage?”

“The title Master is bestowed upon those who have grasped the Master’s Heart. That’s the prerequisite to enter the stage,” Su Yehua explained. “This realm is where Bone Quantification Potential fails entirely. It hinges solely on one’s inner nature and insight. Countless prodigies with Ninth-Rank Combat Bodies throughout history have fallen short here. For many, fifteen li is their final frontier. Thus, the Fifteen Li Stage is also known as the ‘Fifteen Li Spring Breeze.’”

After the spring breeze comes the withering autumn. Then follows the silent stillness of winter.

She swept her gaze across the audience, her tone light yet profound. “The Three Immortalities beyond that—those who can pass down their Bloodline Power—consist of three stages, each a celestial realm. To ascend even one stage within a sixty-year span is already extraordinary. You need not concern yourselves with these details now.”

The students listened in awe, feeling the vast gulf between them and such heights. The Three Immortalities were the elite Divine Generals of Emperor Yu. The Four Foundations Realm? Those were the legendary Saints—figures even their fathers once bowed before.

Li Hao, however, felt a flicker of disappointment. The woman had brushed over everything so casually. He’d hoped for something more intriguing.

But truth be told, he already knew these distinctions. At ten years old, he’d studied them thoroughly in the Pavilion of Listening to Rain. And over countless fishing trips with the old man, he’d heard countless tales—so he wasn’t entirely ignorant.

“Fifteen Li Spring Breeze”? That wasn’t a limit.

His own Li Clan’s supreme Art of Commanding Objects could propel objects twenty li. His grandfather once said the imperial family’s Nine Heavens Soaring Cloud Technique could reach twenty-five li—crossing a small city in one breath, surmounting rivers in two. Its destructive power was terrifying.

And then there was the royal treasure—the Combat Scripture of Commanding Objects, which Old Feng had quietly copied for him. He’d never dared touch the original. Too dangerous. The Qian Dao Palace was too close to the royal sanctum, and the Dao Palace housed a true immortal—said to be Emperor Yu’s greatest warrior.

Li Hao had fused the two supreme scriptures, combining them with his感悟 at the sixth level of Yi Dao. Now, he could cover forty li in a single breath. He felt it—this was far from his limit. If he could find more legendary Arts of Commanding Objects, merge them, he could still ascend.

Right now, his cultivation stood at the peak of the Fifteen Li Stage—just one step from Master.

With his sixth-level Body Dao insight, he could break through into the Master Realm at any moment. Yet he hadn’t done so—because he lacked the Master’s Heart.

But he knew the moment was near. He could sense it.

How to forge the Master’s Heart?

First, one must touch the Heavenly Gate. Then, discover one’s own path.

His Body Dao cultivation had already allowed him to brush against that elusive Heavenly Gate—halfway across the threshold into the Master Realm.

Yet, living in the manor, buried in endless study of arts, refining his skills, honing his inner cultivation—his heart had drifted from the Martial Path. He hadn’t found his true way. He hadn’t found his Master’s Heart.

Now, stepping out into the world, Li Hao felt the moment could come at any time.

On stage, Su Yehua concluded her lecture on the Eight Stages of Martial Dao, then addressed the students:

“Being admitted into Class A Academy proves your potential. But don’t grow arrogant. The true secret arts of our Tan Palace Academy lie within the Black and White Hall. Only those who enter the Black and White Hall are true prodigies.”

Li Hao’s gaze sharpened, locking onto her.

“To enter the Black and White Hall, there are two paths.”

“First: Rank within the top five of the Martial Dao Rankings in Class A Academy, and remain there for six continuous months. That earns you entry.”

“Second: The Meh River Battle Realm Trial.”

When she uttered the words “Meh River,” a ripple of unease passed through the crowd.

Li Hao’s eyes narrowed.

He’d read extensively about the Meh River Battle Realm in the Pavilion of Listening to Rain. It was a place of deep mystery and peril—though it fell outside the jurisdiction of the Li Clan.

Su Yehua scanned the audience, noting the nervous glances of the wealthy heirs, and the blank expressions of the noble-born students.

“We all know,” she said, voice firm, “that among the Five Divine Generals, four guard the frontiers, holding back the Border Forbidden Demonic Beasts. They are stationed in the four cardinal directions—east, south, west, and north.”

“The First Divine General’s Residence, the Heavenly Zhao Divine General’s Residence, oversees the Meh River Bureau—the guardian of the entire Meh River.”

Her gaze swept across the crowd, lingering briefly on a few individuals—including Li Hao.

“Divine Generals defend the borders. The Meh River Bureau holds back the Meh River. Both are vital to the survival of the common people across the realm.”

“We sit here in comfort, learning, training, even chasing titles like ‘Spirit-Beast Slayer’—all because the Five Divine General Residences carry the weight. They are the ones who endure.”

“Exactly,” Li Hao murmured beside him. Li Yuanzhao whispered, his small fists clenched under the table, his round face flushed with excitement.

“We can’t reach the frontier. But the Meh River Battle Realm? It’s like the Earth’s veins—pervading every corner of Emperor Yu’s Nineteen Provinces. Eliminating the Meh River is our duty as martial cultivators.”

Su Yehua’s expression turned stern, her voice carrying an unshakable resolve.

Then she pointed to one student in the crowd.

“You,” she said, “from the Heavenly Zhao Divine General’s Residence—Wang family, isn’t it? You tell us: what is the Meh River?”

The boy pointed to was a black-clad youth, just fourteen, with eyes sharp and cold—far more mature than his age suggested.

He didn’t flinch at being called. Calmly, he stood.

“Teacher,” he said, “I am Wang Han.”

Heavenly Zhao Divine General’s Residence—Wang family. As the First Divine General’s residence, their status surpassed even the Li Clan.

Yet this boy wasn’t the most outstanding among the third generation. His standing was comparable to Li Yun or Li Yuanzhao—among the promising heirs, but not the true prodigies, the dragons and phoenixes of their bloodlines.

Coming to Tan Palace Academy was less about cultivation, more about prestige, networking, and access to the legendary secrets of the Black and White Hall.

“Wang Han, speak,” Su Yehua said approvingly.

All eyes turned to him. Knowing he came from such a powerful house, many blinked in quiet awe.

He was dressed simply—plain, unassuming. The Heavenly Zhao Residence was ten thousand li away. Had Su Yehua not named him, few would have recognized his origin.

“The Meh River Battle Realm,” Wang Han said calmly, “has ancient origins—no one knows when it began. But in recent years, its presence has grown. Now, it’s emerging in abandoned villages and wild fields across our land.”

“It’s a separate world—like a mirage, a phantom realm. But if you die inside, you truly die.”

“The Meh River cannot be eradicated. Even if destroyed, it will reappear.”

“That’s why the Meh River Bureau constantly recruits—but still lacks enough people.”

“History records only a handful of times the Meh River was truly ended. It requires completely clearing the entire realm. The true difficulty? You’ll understand when you enter.”

Someone raised their hand. “What’s inside the Meh River?”

Wang Han glanced at the speaker. His voice was ice.

“Legends say it’s the gateway to the River of Hell. And within… are the souls of the dead.”

A sudden chill swept through the courtyard. The air dropped ten degrees. Several students shivered.

“Sit down,” Su Yehua said. Then, addressing all: “In the coming year, you must strive. Tan Palace Academy holds everything. It’s up to you to seize it. The future of the world belongs to you. Work hard!”

Her closing words, a splash of motivational fire, snapped the students back from the dread of Wang Han’s tale. Eyes sparkled with renewed vigor.

“Also,” Su Yehua added, “within the academy, no matter your status outside, all are equal. Offenders will be punished. Heroes will be rewarded.”

A wave of glances swept toward Li Hao, Wang Han, and the two other highborn youths.

Equal? Could it really be?

Li Hao smiled faintly. He didn’t care.

After Su Yehua left, the courtyard came alive.

Within moments, someone approached Li Hao and Li Yuanzhao, eager to strike up conversation.

Even at such a young age, under their parents’ guidance, they’d already learned the art of networking—building connections for the future.

Li Hao didn’t mind. But he only spoke with those who shared his interests.

“Li少, nice to meet you. I’m from the Cangzhou Zhao family…”

“Do you play chess?”

“Uh… no.”

“Painting?”

“Not really…”

Li Hao’s interest faded.

Time passed swiftly.

Half a month went by.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end