Chapter 51: The Name of the Battle Realm

Li Hao walked along the damp, gravelly path for several li until he reached another waterfall and its deep pool.

"Strange... I just heard flute music."

Li Hao glanced around. Was it just a trick of the mind?

Before him, the waterfall cascaded like a hanging curtain, but between the flowing streams, something seemed to lie within—a small temple.

Li Hao felt a flicker of surprise. With a flicker of motion, he activated the Peak-Level White Phoenix Flight Body Art, darting through the water veil like a bird cutting through the forest canopy. Not a single drop touched him.

He had saved three Art Skill Points earlier. Two of them had been invested into his movement techniques, allowing him to master this Upper-Grade Cultivation Art with ease.

As Li Hao passed through the curtain of water, on a moss-covered stone platform far downstream, two slender silhouettes stood motionless.

"Hey, Yueyao—wasn't someone just there?" Lin Feifei exclaimed, pointing toward the waterfall.

"Looks like it," Song Yueyao replied, her gaze lingering. "But the figure vanished instantly. He was wearing an Outer Academy uniform."

"Then I didn’t imagine it. What’s an Outer Academy disciple doing here? It’s not even time for the New Student Examination yet," Lin Feifei murmured, frowning. "He must’ve entered the Fangzhu Shrine… Could he be trying to cross the Meh River?"

Song Yueyao turned away, shaking her head slightly. She wasn’t interested in such matters. Instead, she lifted her flute and played again—soft, mournful notes drifting into the air.

…

Behind the waterfall, Li Hao stared at the small temple before him.

Tiny—only about half a man’s height—but exquisitely crafted. Inside, two statues stood: one male, one female. Their features were blurred by age, the faces worn down by time. Yet, if one looked closely, traces of gentle, kind expressions remained.

But now, with soil flaking off and flesh rotting away, the half-smile on the lips had twisted into something eerie—almost grotesque.

On both sides of the temple stood a vertical couplet:

The Earth gives birth to all things,

The Earth buries all beings.

Above them, a horizontal plaque read:

Lord of This Realm.

As Li Hao studied the temple, a small scroll suddenly shot out from within, fluttering open before his eyes.

Then, a single sheet of paper burst forth like a beam of Divine Light, streaking straight toward his head.

Li Hao’s heart leapt. He tried to dodge—but at his Fifteen Li Stage Cultivation Level, he was too slow. The light struck him full on.

In an instant, the world around him seemed drowned in shimmering water. Then, the light faded, revealing another realm—vaguely real, yet unreal, as if seen through a dream.

The dim cave blurred, as if wrapped in a watery barrier that shimmered three feet around him.

At the same time, a cascade of phantom golden characters appeared before his eyes:

【You have entered the Meh River】

【Identity confirmed: Great Yu Dynasty, Qingzhou】

【Please enter your name within the Meh River】

Li Hao froze. I’ve entered the Meh River?

He looked around. A flowing, membrane-like barrier surrounded him. Beyond it, the light was dim. Faint, broken mountains loomed in the distance—vast, empty, nothing like the narrow, confined cave he had just come from.

This was the legendary, mysterious, and deadly place?

It was astonishing—truly beyond the scope of ordinary martial arts.

Though he had heard stories about the Meh River, experiencing it firsthand left him awestruck. This was no mere training ground. It defied logic.

But what kind of level was this Meh River?

He remembered Second Uncle once mentioning that there were five tiers of Meh Rivers. The Youdu Rank, the highest, was so terrifying that even Second Uncle and Old Feng dared not enter. It harbored unspeakable terrors.

Then, the golden light that had pierced his forehead gathered in his palm, forming a sheet of golden paper—blank.

At the same time, a First-Level message flooded his mind. Li Hao nodded in understanding. He bit his finger, then pressed it to the paper, writing his name in blood:

Two.

As the last stroke faded, the paper flared with golden light, swallowing the blood name completely. Then, the light vanished—reabsorbed into his body.

The watery barrier around him began to dissolve, revealing the desolate landscape beyond: broken mountains, barren earth, ruins scattered across the land.

A new message appeared in his mind:

Realm Boundary: Fengshan Meh River

Meh River Completion Rate: 0%

Li Hao looked up. The sky burned crimson—dusk stretched across half the horizon, as if the sun had sunk into the earth beyond.

Before him stood a desolate mountain, its slopes dotted with a village and wisps of smoke curling from chimneys.

Li Hao’s eyes narrowed. He released his Spirit Soul to scout ahead.

A duplicate of himself—his Soul Form—rose from his head, then shot forward like a streak of lightning, soaring above the village and surveying the entire mountain in a single glance.

As the Soul’s vision climbed higher, he tried to see beyond the limits of the realm, to grasp the full scale of this Meh River Battle Realm.

But as he stared into the distance, he saw it—the far end of the Meh River was shrouded in darkness. When his Soul’s gaze pierced through, a chill ran down his spine. Something watched from within the void. Something best left undisturbed.

Li Hao quickly pulled back his Soul’s perception, limiting his scan to the village and its immediate surroundings.

Inside the village, people moved—old and young, men tilling fields, women weaving. The scene seemed peaceful, harmonious.

If only one could ignore their faces.

Every face was withered, dry as dust. Elders looked like mummies. Children’s eyes were hollow pits. Tongues hung limp to their chests. Women at windows, weaving, had claws like knives, teeth sharpened to needles, and smiles that chilled the blood.

This is truly a Paradise Beyond the Dead… Li Hao sighed.

Having seen the monstrous forms of countless Fish Spirits, these beings of the Meh River didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

"Must I kill them all to complete it?" Li Hao mused. He considered retreating—but to leave, he first needed to enter the shrine that corresponded to this realm.

Through his Spirit Soul’s exploration, he had already found it: a shrine placed at the center of the village, atop a stage-like platform.

How utterly despicable… he thought.

"Could that man be the leader here? A Continuation of Soul Realm… Can the Dead even have a Soul Form of their own?"

Li Hao’s gaze shifted to the back mountain, where a black-robed scholar sat, a swirling black spirit form clinging to his back like a shadowy cloak. It gave off a deeply unnatural, eerie presence.

Having gathered all he needed, Li Hao didn’t linger. With his Spirit Soul reabsorbed, he strode forward into the village.

Within moments, villagers at the village gate spotted him.

"Hello, hello…" Li Hao smiled, raising his hand in greeting.

But the old man, who had been holding a child’s hand, suddenly screamed—inhuman, grotesque—and charged at him.

The child, once appearing innocent and vacant, now snarled, revealing jagged teeth, lunging forward with fury.

"Such warmth," Li Hao sighed, amused despite himself.

He plucked a withered branch from the ground and gave it a flick.

Snow fell in a gentle flurry.

The old man and child hadn’t even reached two zhang before their bodies froze mid-motion—necks snapping cleanly, wounds perfectly severed.

Li Hao then walked into the village, dragging the withered branch like a staff.

Along the rice paddies, villagers who had been calmly planting seedlings suddenly turned violent, roaring as they charged. Farmers with straw hats, carrying baskets of grain, swung their bamboo poles at him.

"Do you dream of conquering the sea too?" Li Hao murmured, not slowing.

With another flick of the branch, snow fell again—each flake landing like a seal upon their bodies. Instantly, they froze mid-stride, limbs locked in place.

As Li Hao advanced deeper into the village, more came—women carrying pots, long-tongued weavers, farmers with scythes. The crowd grew dense.

"Everyone’s in the Circulation Realm. Hmm… at least a few Perfect Circulation of the Heavenly Circuit."

He continued walking down the wide dirt road, flicking the branch casually. Behind him, a trail of broken, frozen corpses lay scattered.

These The Dead seemed like ghosts—yet here, in the Meh River, they had flesh and blood. They bled black when severed. They had weight. They moved.

Could this be the very Meh River they’ll test us on a year from now? Li Hao mused.

The strength of this realm wasn’t high. The only real threat he’d seen so far was the black-robed scholar on the mountain—a Continuation of Soul Realm.

Even that was a reasonable challenge for a Trial Class A Academy disciple.

As more villagers fell, Li Hao glanced at the golden paper in his palm. A new message appeared:

Meh River Completion Rate: 89%

Each death brought roughly 1% progress.

"Given the nature of the Meh River," Li Hao muttered, "even if I kill them all, I doubt I can reach 100%. It won’t be truly destroyed."

That was the core difficulty. To erase a Meh River, one had to solve it completely—100% resolution. No shortcuts.

He’d heard of others who had slaughtered every soul, destroyed every structure, only to fail. The Meh River could not be annihilated. As long as the puzzle wasn’t solved, it would regenerate—reappear, unbidden, spreading to any corner of the world.

Li Hao passed by the shrine on the stage, glanced at it—but didn’t leave.

He had come this far. He’d take a chance. After all, this was his first time encountering a Meh River.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end