A distance of fifty nautical miles might have been a long journey for a ship relying on sails or manpower, but for this massive, coal-burning steamship, it wasn’t considered all that far.
A voyage of about four hours was enough for it to travel from Red Tree Bay Pier to that mysterious expanse in the heart of the river.
After sputtering for a while, the steam engine finally let out a low rumble. The thick smokestack spewed billowing dark smoke, propelling the massive hull forward as it cut through the turbid river water, heading upstream.
During the voyage, the ships on the river grew steadily scarcer.
Many of the short-haul freighters and fishing boats began returning to port or veering off into tributaries that led to other inland cities.
Meanwhile, a few larger ships, flying different flags and preparing for long voyages, followed the main shipping channel known as the Hongjiang. It cut through half of the Daxia nation before emptying into the Ocean, serving as a trade route to the Southern Ocean and the Western Countries.
As evening approached, the steam freighter slowly entered a relatively open expanse in the heart of the river. Here, the current was noticeably more turbulent, and the water seemed to have taken on a darker, deeper hue.
Yan Lintong walked to the bow. Checking the navigational markers against his memory of the terrain, he said in a low voice to Lu Yun, "Master, it’s not far now. In about another nautical mile, we’ll reach the core area of Ghost Wail Ridge."
On deck, Lu Yun stood silently at the bow, leaning on his cane as the gusting river wind whipped through his silver-white hair.
Yan Lintong stood respectfully to the side, hardly daring to breathe, his eyes vigilantly scanning the surroundings.
Lu Yun drew his gaze back and ordered Yan Lintong directly, "It’s about time. Have all the crew—including the captain, the helmsman, and the stokers—get inside their cabins."
"Without my order, no one is to come out. And they are forbidden from looking through the portholes."
He didn’t know what they would encounter next, or if the bizarre experience Lu Jingteng had that night would repeat itself.
For safety’s sake, the best solution was to have them all stay away.
"Yes, Master!" Yan Lintong replied without hesitation, immediately turning to relay the order.
Soon, the ship fell silent, the only sound being the continuous rumble of the steam engine.
All crew members were under strict orders to stay in their cabins with the doors and windows shut tight. On the vast deck, only Lu Yun remained, standing alone at the bow.
The sun sank behind Yuanshan at a speed visible to the naked eye, and time slipped by in silence.
The sun finally disappeared completely, and the veil of night gradually descended, blanketing the river and the sky.
The stars were sparse and the moonlight was hazy. The only light came from a few glass-enclosed kerosene wall lamps hung on the ship, imports from the Western World.
They cast a dim, flickering, yellowish glow, barely illuminating a small patch in the center of the deck.
Gusts of night wind carried a bone-chilling cold, causing the flames in the wall lamps to flicker uneasily.
Lu Yun sat on a rattan chair that had been brought out especially for him, his expression perfectly calm.
He held a cigarette between his fingers, taking a drag from time to time and slowly exhaling a trail of pale bluish smoke.
The steam freighter’s boilers had long since been extinguished. The massive vessel was held fast in the middle of the river by its heavy iron anchor, moored silently about a nautical mile from the heart of Ghost Wail Ridge.
Lu Yun was in no hurry. He would occasionally pick up a Western-style brass spyglass from the small table beside him to carefully observe the patch of river a nautical mile away, an area completely swallowed by darkness.
Through the spyglass, there was nothing to see but the river, which only looked deeper and more foreboding when magnified.
The area was so quiet it seemed like nothing more than an ordinary stretch of river at night, completely belying its legendary name, Ghost Wail Ridge.
He waited until midnight. The river wind grew colder, and a profound silence fell over everything.
The view through the spyglass remained a disappointing stretch of blackness and tranquility. There was no sign of movement.
Lu Yun slowly lowered the spyglass, a faint trace of disappointment passing through him.
’He had thought that by coming here himself, he might discover something. After all, this was where his eldest son, Lu Jingteng, had been afflicted.’
But the disappointment was just a fleeting emotion. ’If there’s nothing to be found, so be it. Such opportunities can’t be forced.’
’The Daxia New Country is so vast, a land of a thousand mountains and rivers. From its peaks and seas to its ancient tombs and deserted villages... is there any shortage of places where similar, or even more powerful, "dirty things" could be hiding?’
’Am I really supposed to be afraid I won’t run into them?’
The vicissitudes of two lifetimes had long ago tempered Lu Yun’s mind, honing it to a state of profound calm, like the still water in an ancient well.
He was not given to sorrow or anger, pride or rashness. He knew well that the path to eternal life was a long one, not a goal to be achieved in a single day.
The next moment, Lu Yun once again raised his hand and took a slow drag from his cigarette. It was best to let nature take its course and simply wait for the opportunity to arise.
Just then, light footsteps sounded from behind him, followed by Yan Lintong’s voice, deliberately low and full of concern. "Master, it’s late. The river wind is damp and cold. Please be careful not to catch a chill."
Lu Yun tilted his head slightly. He saw that Yan Lintong had come out onto the deck at some point, holding a thick, dark gray cashmere overcoat.
"I brought you an overcoat. Please, put it on."
Yan Lintong spoke as he moved, respectfully unfolding the overcoat to drape it over Lu Yun’s shoulders.
Lu Yun’s gaze, however, suddenly hardened. He didn’t spare the coat a glance, instead fixing his eyes on Yan Lintong’s face as he spoke in a glacial tone.
"Who gave you permission to come out?"
The concerned expression on Yan Lintong’s face froze instantly, replaced by an undisguised tension and an unnatural contortion. His lips trembled slightly, as if he was about to offer an excuse.
Lu Yun gave him no such opportunity. He moved. Still as a statue one moment, he exploded into motion like a clap of thunder the next!
His body shot up from the rattan chair, launching forward so fast he became a blur. The chair itself let out a pained groan, unable to bear the force of his departure!
When Lu Yun reappeared, his right hand was clenched into a fist, the knuckles swirling with volatile Qi.
He threw the punch!
There were no flashy moves, only a direct and brutal strike—a terrifying blow that concentrated the full power of a Mid-stage Grandmaster of Huajin and the essence of the second level of the Mountain-Breaking Inch Force Fist!
The whistling of his fist was no ordinary gust of wind; it was a shriek so sharp it threatened to pierce the eardrums, like a thousand muffled thunderclaps detonating at point-blank range!
"Master, don’t!!!!"
The Yan Lintong before him let out a scream distorted by terror, a look of utter disbelief flooding his face.
But Lu Yun’s fist didn’t slow in the slightest. The terrifying, invisible Qi emanating from his knuckles swept forward in an instant, blanketing its target like a torrential, inescapable storm.
"AHHH!!!"
But this time, the sound that erupted was the tragic, ear-piercing scream of a woman—a sound that was utterly inhuman!
The Qi from the Mountain-Breaking Inch Force Fist was now rampaging through the shell of the "Yan Lintong" before him!
The clothes on its body instantly disintegrated into dust. Beneath the skin, it looked as if countless venomous snakes were writhing, its entire silhouette beginning to warp violently under the brutal onslaught of Qi!
Lu Yun stood at a distance, watching the howling Yan Lintong with cold indifference. After all, he had held nothing back with that strike.
If it had been the real Yan Lintong, he would have been beyond dead already. How could he possibly still have the strength to scream in agony?
’So, this isn’t my disciple, Yan Lintong. It’s one of those ghostly things!’

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