One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

The path continued uphill along a narrow ravine, its bottom covered with smooth, water-washed pebbles, thinly covered in moss. Each step required extra caution to avoid slipping. After about twenty minutes, the canopy of trees suddenly thinned, and the light became much brighter. A sound of water came from directly ahead, starting as a soft murmur, gradually growing louder and more continuous with each step, finally becoming a sweeping roar that drowned out all other sounds.

Zhang Chulan pushed aside the last clump of ferns blocking his way and finally saw the open and bright view.

A waterfall cascades down from the top of a nearly forty-meter-high cliff. The curtain of water is torn apart by the wind in mid-air into several silvery-white streams, then regroups at the bottom before crashing into the deep, emerald-green pool below. At the point of impact, the water bursts into a layer of foam half a person's height, and the spray weaves a faint rainbow in the slanting morning light. The rock walls on either side of the waterfall, stained a deep ink color by years of moisture, are covered with dense moss and ferns, like two enormous curtains dyed green by time.

Behind the waterfall, at the thickest part of the curtain of water, a dark gap can be vaguely seen. The opening is not wide, just wide enough for two people to pass side by side, and the rocks along the edges are smooth and rounded by the water flow. The curtain of water forms a natural water screen in front of the opening, obscuring the view inside.

"The entrance to Sword Valley is behind the waterfall." Wang Ye put away his probing staff, stood beside a fallen, rotten tree, and pointed to the shadows behind the curtain of water. "According to Master, there's a passageway after passing through the water curtain, and at the end of it is Sword Valley. But the water curtain itself is a barrier—our patriarch reshaped the waterfall's flow with his sword intent, so ordinary penetrating power is refracted by the water. Only those who can withstand that refracting force can pass through."

"Reflected force?" Zhang Chulan rolled up his sleeve, revealing a section of his wrist, and used the back of his hand to test the water mist drifting in the air. "So it's just being hit by water?"

"It's not that you're being swept away by the water. It's the sword intent embedded in the water that pulls your Qi to the side. The harder you try to ram forward, the more you'll drift. In the end, you might not even reach the edge of the cave before being thrown into the pool."

"Is it really that strange?" Zhang Chulan was unconvinced. He took two steps forward, stood firmly on a flat rock by the pool, and looked up at the curtain of water. He took a deep breath, suddenly leaped up, tapped his toes twice on the water's surface for leverage, and his body, like a hawk spreading its wings, swooped down on the water curtain!

His movements were swift and precise, clearly the result of rigorous training. But the instant his body touched the water curtain, the seemingly soft water suddenly snapped like a taut bowstring—Zhang Chulan felt a horizontal force slapping him from the left. He instinctively channeled his Qi to resist, but the force suddenly changed direction and surged upwards from below, completely disrupting his balance. He flailed his arms and legs in the air, then tumbled sideways in a disheveled state, about to crash into the pool.

Feng Baobao had somehow reached the shallow water area by the pool. Her move was so fast it was almost unannounced—the scabbard of her katana extended from the side, firmly pressing against Zhang Chulan's lower back, providing him with upward support. Using this force, Zhang Chulan hastily adjusted his posture in mid-air, taking three steps on the water before staggering back to the rocks on the shore.

He was soaked to the bone, his hair plastered to his forehead, and water dripping down his chin, making him look like a drowned rat pulled from a soup pot.

"Sister Bao'er—" He wiped the water from his face, panting and laughing, "If it weren't for you, I would be a winter swimmer on Wudang Mountain today."

Feng Baobao sheathed her sword, her expression unchanged, but the corner of her mouth seemed to loosen slightly: "You're welcome."

Nie Lingfeng walked to the edge of the pool. He didn't take a running start, nor did he make any preparatory movements; he simply stepped onto the water. The moment his foot touched the surface, it only slightly dipped, as if pressed down by a very light leaf, before he took his second and third steps. His pace was slow, but extremely steady. He stood two feet in front of the water curtain, precisely where the reflected force was most concentrated. The water curtain formed a flowing wall before him, and the sword intent contained within it was like countless hands pointing in different directions, simultaneously pushing towards him from various angles.

He neither confronted nor resisted. The instant he stepped into the water curtain, he suppressed his internal energy to an extremely low level, becoming like a rock in the water—neither actively attacking nor dodging, but simply adjusting his form to match the surrounding currents, allowing the force to slide past him. The water curtain parted at the boundary in front of him, the water on both sides brushing against his shoulders and falling down. He stepped across the water curtain through that naturally opened gap, landing steadily on the stone slab inside the cave entrance.

The whole process took less than three breaths. Those watching from the outside felt as if a frame had been cut off from the scene of Nie Lingfeng walking in—he stepped into the water curtain, and then he was already on the other side.

"...This is so smooth." Wang Zhenqiu stood on the shore, arms crossed in front of his chest, and shook his head. "Brother Nie's coordination is so good, I'd believe you if you said he was a robot."

Zhang Chulan, wringing out the water from his clothes, replied without looking up, "Is this the first day you've met Brother Nie?"

Nie Lingfeng's figure appeared inside the water curtain, somewhat blurred by the flowing water, but his voice remained clear through the sound of the water: "The restriction on this cave entrance has been lifted. You can use the path I've cleared to get here."

The group crossed the pool one by one. Thanks to the residual force left by Nie Lingfeng that had neutralized the sword intent of the water curtain, the others, though struggling to varying degrees, were no longer thrown into the water. Lu Linglong's body was extremely tense as she crossed the water curtain. She turned sideways, protecting the sword manual in her arms. For a fleeting moment, as her shoulder blade brushed against the edge of the water, she felt a chilling sensation brush against her skin, but she gritted her teeth and did not back down, stepping into the cave entrance.

Wang Ye was the last to pass. He paused for a moment in front of the water curtain, placed his right palm on his forehead, silently uttered something, and then stepped through. The refraction force seemed gentler on him than on others—perhaps it was because the aura of Wudang martial arts on his body resonated with the lingering sword intent of his ancestor in the water curtain. As the water curtain approached him, it automatically parted two inches to the sides, allowing him to pass through with almost no effort.

The passageway inside the cave entrance appeared much longer than it did from the outside. Although the stone slabs underfoot were natural rock surfaces, close inspection revealed signs of polishing—someone had meticulously smoothed the floor and walls of the passage, rounding off the sharp edges to prevent injury in the darkness. In some places, the rock strata on the passageway walls shimmered with faint silver-gray specks, like finely embedded mica, glistening slightly in the sunlight filtering in from behind.

After walking for about five minutes, the passage ahead began to widen. The overhead height gradually increased until one could stretch out one's arms without touching the ceiling, and the distance between the two walls expanded from a narrow space of one person to three or four zhang (approximately 10-15 meters). A moist and slightly cool breeze flowed in from ahead, carrying the mixed scents of grass, trees, and mineral springs, which invigorated the spirit.

Then everyone saw Sword Valley at the same time.