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RM 73: Betrayed (III)
🕑 Added 2025-09-09 15:48:17 +0000 UTCWhen Li Muchen first met Han Yue at the age of 60, he saw the untouchable personified. She gave him the same feeling as his Master. A force of nature that one could only run from, not dare to face. In comparison, he was barely a pebble.
To a degree, he admired her unfiltered coldness and confidence. In a way, he was jealous of her overwhelming talent.
However, somewhere along the way, that bundle of intensity had changed into a more ferocious force. A force that Muchen had trouble handling with each passing day.
How would he have known that just holding her hand once would send her spiraling into an unfortunate romantic?
“How could you confess to another woman when we have promised to marry?” She pouted.
“It was a cover… the spies in the sect and others would get suspicious if Gu Fe and I started to meet too often when we don’t have strong ties publicly,” Muchen explained.
He wasn’t in a hurry. Even if the furniture in the room had crumbled under the blanket of white frost, his body, under the ice, felt no cold. It was like a pleasant spring breeze to him. And, the very reason Han Yue had become like this.
“You aren’t lying to me?” Han Yue’s eyes, sharper than any icicle, squinted.
“Why would I lie to you?” Muchen tilted his head.
“Indeed… we are destined to marry after all.” Han Yue nodded.
“That’s not what I meant…” Muchen’s little protest went unheard.
A wave of her hand, and the ice around the room turned into white mist, entering her palms again. Then, she held Muchen's hand, with a smile of a child and pulled him to the door.
“Now, let us talk about our bright future.” As her left palm tugged at the door handle, frost seeped into the door, and it crumbled into white snow. “Oh…”
She still loses control when her emotions are heightened around this time. Was it when she reached Deity Transformation that it stopped? Muchen looked at the door that followed the handle, and at his own hand, grasped tight by the pale fingers of her right hand.
If not for his extreme yin physique, spiritual root, and unnaturally strong yin resistance, he would end up like that door, too. But he didn’t, that’s what caused the change in Han Yue.
“Now, I want to hear all the details.” Wrapped around his arm, Han Yue dragged him to the courtyard.
“I wanted to talk about the plan too; it is good that you are on board.” Muchen smiled as they sat on the dewy bed of grass; he could finally talk about the main problem.
“Not that… I want to hear all about your secret meetings with Gu Fe, in d-e-t-a-i-l,” she insisted, ready to freeze in place till he complied.
“…” Bracing himself for the long night, Muchen sighed.
It took him half the night to convince Han Yue that nothing went on between Gu Fe and him. By the time he told her of his plan, the sun peeked over the horizon.
“So, I only need to guard Qingliu Mountain’s surroundings?” Han Yue glossed over the details.
“You have to make sure that no one can go in or out of the mountains from the start of the third event,” Muchen repeated.
“That’s easy to do.” Han Yue nodded, more concerned about the slight scent of blood that lingered on him.
Her confidence gave him relief. After all, it wasn’t unfounded. No matter who it was, no matter which sect or continent they belonged to, as long as they were in the Nascent Soul Realm, they couldn’t get within ten steps of Han Yue.
That was the absolute. Ruler of Frost, Han Yue.
However, that overwhelming power was the reason that he wanted to use her as a shield then a spear.
If I send her after Gu Changge, she’d just kill him without any questions. Muchen had many other plans, so he let her play with his now longer hair while he thought over the details.
It wasn’t until another hour that Han Yue let him go, which was surprising since they hadn’t met for years. But, she couldn’t show Shi Shun, another woman, getting close to Muchen in front of other sects’ representatives, so she backed off.
I’ll give her a gift for this when I go back. Han Yue wondered how happy Shi Shun would be.
The very same Shi Shun she had trapped in a glacier so she could take her place here.
“Seems like everyone is gathered.” Fei Chao made it to the agreed time, yawning with his crusted eyes.
“It would seem so.” Gen scoffed, his rosaries rustling.
“I am sure the disciples are excited, too.” Qian Hei said, glancing at Muchen and Shi Shun.
“Indeed, so let us not make them wait any longer.” Muchen poured his qi into the pass on the back of his hand.
The cursive writing filled up with dim green light. Others’ passes followed, and soon the colors of pale blue, purple, gold, and black filled the space. Each a pillar reaching the monochrome orange sky.
Qingliu Mountains, Activate! With the collective command from the five representatives, the mountain range shook.
A low rumble reverberated, bouncing off the rocky and green peaks with the chimes of bells beckoning.
The disciples, waiting since the crack of dawn, activated their passes. The first stop, the individual challenges that offered the biggest rewards, they all arrived at the tallest peak in Qingliu mountains, Qing Peak.
***
Wang Yang, like many other disciples, inhaled the luxurious breakfast delivered to his room when he heard the chimes. Without a moment’s delay, he activated his pass and reached the first trial’s location marked on the map.
He arrived at the edge of a bald mountain. The sheer cliff behind him had a drop so high that he could only see a bed of clouds around halfway down, no ground in sight. However, he soon lost his interest in the high peak with chilly winds.
His nose turned towards the floral incense, one that entranced the other seventy-four disciples that arrived before him, too. Wang Yang followed the stream of people; they moved steadily across the compacted dirt path leading through the sea of red trees.
None of them spoke a word; they just followed the path till they reached a clearing. Their eyes drawn to the black monolith established on the bed of flowers, the scent that guided them here came from the incense that burned a dim orange at its base. The words ‘Bone Mountain’ carved at the top of this structure that could dwarf hills.
“Welcome to the first trial of the day, Bone Mountain.” Muchen walked out of the monolith’s shadow, bearing a genial but strong smile.
The disciples’ eyes gathered on him, eager to start their journey. However, Muchen waved his finger, keeping them in place.
“There are some rules that you should know before you start,” he said.
“The trials happen in a mental space where time flows faster. However, even if your physical body is safe, you will feel everything you go through, whether that be a prick on the finger from a thorn or getting sliced to ribbons by a sword; you will feel it all. This isn’t fear-mongering; I am being genuine. So, if there is anyone who doesn’t wish to join, they may drop out.”
The disciples looked at each other and gulped. They had heard bits and pieces of the information from their seniors, but no one gave them the full picture. Because it would ruin the experience, they said.
Muchen’s words painted the trials in a dangerous light, and they were. It wasn’t uncommon for some disciples to develop fears because of the harshness they went through the trials; however, the sects have refused to change the trials or their difficulties.
“Each of these trials is a replica of real events that our ancestors faced. What you will experience in there is what the cultivators who left their mark on history had to endure. Do not take these trials lightly; your performance here will set you apart from others. And your opponents aren’t just your current peers; this is your chance to see how you compare against geniuses the world has acknowledged.” Muchen pointed at the two lists on the monolith.
One with the names of the disciples present currently, and the second consisted of the top hundred cultivators who performed the best in the trial before them. They were names these disciples had heard only in legends, bedtime stories, and historical records. Now, they had the chance to replace those names with their own.
“Looks like no one wants to drop out of the trials.” Muchen smiled, already expecting it. No disciple who has reached here was ordinary. “Of course, the rewards follow the braves. Look at your pass; there should be a new section now.”
The disciples, now more fired up than before, looked at their passes. Under the Map, they now had a section called Trial points.
“Even if you don’t finish in the top three, you will get trial points for completing each trial. You can exchange these for treasures, techniques, and pills. And if you get enough, you can even get the rewards from the all-time list.” Muchen added, stepping to the side. “I think I’ve spoken enough. The monolith is now activated. So, good luck to you all.”
The disciples, now shaking with excitement, walked to the monolith in a single line. The first in line, a blank-faced man from the Hundred Sect Alliance, touched the cold marble. A pillar of light enveloped his body, pulling him into the trial.
One by one, the rest of the disciples entered the trial, until it was Wang Yang’s turn. He had seen Sun Lingling, Zhang Jun, and Lei Feng enter before him. Now, he faced the monolith with a racing heart. He glanced at Muchen, his master maintaining a neutral smile, giving him a wordless good luck.
I will get my name on the all-time list! Repeating his goal, Wang Yang touched the monolith.
The white light pulled his body up. When his vision returned to normal, a grey, dead forest surrounded him. The cracked land crunched below his bare feet as arid sand burned his nostrils.
Wang Yang, now in black rags that couldn't be called clothes, stood between a group of a hundred young boys and girls, all dressed as shabby as him. Dried mud and the stench of bugs clung to them, and the cloth felt flaky.
A little distance from his group, an old man wearing the same ragged uniform stood on a mound. Even if up there in age, his muscles had the vitality of a young bull. He looked at them and spat, his yellow eyes full of disdain.
“Only trash has come this year, too.” The old man said. “Listen well, you vermin, if you useless sacks of meat can’t show any grit, just roll over and die. We do not have food to waste on you bastards.”
A string of white letters formed a sentence before Wang Yang.
Trail: Survive the training of Bone Mountain for 30 days.
If I survive for 30 days, that’s the base completion to get the trial points. Anything beyond that will be counted towards my ranking.
Wang Yang had seen the All-time list for this trial; the people in the top 10 had crossed over 100 days, and the rest, till rank number 100, had over 90 days. It made him question what type of training they’d do.
He felt confident since Muchen and Hua Mei had put him through quite the grueling experience.
However, when the sun painted the forest in its orange hue, Wang Yang started to see his master and senior as saints.
Moving sacks full of grain up the mountain from the crack of dawn to dusk. And that to without a drop of water…… I can’t use qi, and my body barely has any muscle.
By the time the sun set, Wang Yang laid flat on the ground, too tired to even take a deep breathe. The hundred-kilo jute sacks he carried had left impressions on his blistered back. His stomach growled like a ferocious beast, twisting and turning under the skin. There wasn’t a second of rest; if anyone so much as halted for a second, the old man’s whip would rain on them.
Wang Yang got the hard end of that whip. He had lost count of how many times his body refused to take another step; his body demanded food. But there wasn’t a single blade of grass in sight. Even now, he leaned on the husk of what used to be a tree, now only a charred bark cracked under his feeble weight.
“Food! Come and eat you vermin!” The old man howled; he had carried the sacks with them, but he had not even shown a drop of sweat.
The people around him, Wang Yang himself, who was huffing on the ground from backbreaking labor, shot up in a hurry. They’d finally got something to eat. However, when Wang Yang got his share after waiting in the line for 10 minutes, he froze up.
An almost dried apple, a steamed fish smaller than his palm, and a cup of murky water.
“What are you standing there for, vermin? Get lost!” The old man pushed him out of the line.
Somehow, Wang Yang protected the little grub he got. He almost lashed out at the man, but the whip on his belt made him scurry away.
Sitting under the dull moonlight, Wang Yang looked at his food again. Not just at his own, he looked at others too. Everyone got the same amount. However, unlike him, who was questioning this, they all ate with tears streaming down their dry, tanned faces.
“Thank the heavens!”
“I don’t have to chew on dead bark anymore!”
The words of gratitude made Wang Yang wonder which year this trial belonged to. In Azure Sky Sect, even the outer disciples ate three meals a day, each meal comparable to what mortal emperors had.
Not to mention, the Eastern Continent was a land blessed by nature. It had never experienced a famine, at least from what Wang Yang had read.
So, why were the disciples of Bone Mountain acting this way? The old man didn’t hold back on the food as punishment; he ate the same amount.
When did such a famine strike that even cultivators couldn’t eat their fill?
The question dominated his mind till drowsiness consumed him. His body, tired from the day of heavy lifting, had used every bit of energy and muscle it had.
The old man’s shrill scream woke him up the next day. Same man, same whip, same task. Wang Yang went through another day of hard labor and whipping. At the end, he got the same food.
It was the fifth day now, and Wang Yang retched on the sweltering ground, his throat dryer than the cracked dirt below. His skin burned under the sun as he didn’t even have enough water in him to sweat.
His stomach was in knots, he couldn’t sleep the night before because of hunger and thirst. Even if he dug the ground, he couldn’t find a single bug, let alone a drop of water. And, he had seen three people die from bloody stool because they ate too much dried bark.
However, no matter how bad his hunger was, the moment that the old man shouted, Wang Yang’s body moved like clockwork. He didn’t fear the pain from the whip, but the fact that he could bleed to death if hit again and again.
The fifth day went by in a daze, and the sixth was a blur. By the seventh, Wang Yang could barely open his eyes. He wasn’t the first and certainly wasn’t the last.
Today, ten people didn’t wake up. One of them was near Wang Yang. A young girl, only twelve, laid in a fetal position, dried tears running down open eyes. Her nails chipped and cracked, full of dirt. With fingermarks around her neck.
The bright red finger marks against the dark, cracked neck. They matched the length of the girl’s fingers.
Did she…
Wang Yang couldn’t think of anything else the entire day. When the day ended and he ate his food, Wang Yang looked in the direction he woke up that morning. Even if tired, he couldn’t close his eyes. Instead, he walked towards the place where the girl’s body was.
He couldn’t do anything earlier because of the stormy old man, but now he had the chance to give the little girl a burial. Dragging his sore, hardened feet on the rough ground, Wang Yang arrived at the spot. However, he saw the back of a young guy, almost as young as the girl, kneeling over her body.
The boy’s hands moved busily, and a thick scent of iron dominated the air. Hearing his footsteps, the boy turned to him. His hands and mouth painted red, his mouth moving despite the tears streaming down his face.
Wang Yang froze in place.
And it wasn’t this boy alone; the silence in Wang Yang’s ear lifted. He heard the tearing of meat and grunts, even whimpers, as slick chewing continued in the dark forest. His eyes lowered, and there he found a cracked human skull stuck in the dirt.
In that moment, Wang Yang understood the true meaning of the trial, Bone Mountain.
...
I am gonna rewrite the next chapter a bit, so I'll post it after I wake up.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter, see you tmr.
