I was a mineral prospector in Chengdu, who transmigrated into the body of a mortal sword immortal.

Li Bai stood by the pool, his gaze shifting from the tiny sword mark to sweep across the silent valley. The lingering warmth of his ecstasy had completely cooled, replaced by a heavy, almost suffocating sense of urgency. He sheathed his broken Qingming sword, the blade returning to its scabbard with a soft click, exceptionally clear in the excessively quiet valley. There was no time to wallow in his insignificant achievement. He turned, no longer looking at the stone tablet, but striding towards the valley's unexplored edges, towards those darker, more craggy corners. Each step was firm, his eyes sharp as a newly honed sword, scanning every inch of land, every rock, every unusual plant. He had to find a way out, he had to find a faster way to become stronger. In this secluded corner of the world, a silent battle against time and the unknown had officially begun.

In the days that followed, the unchanging light in the valley lost its significance as a timekeeping tool. Li Bai strictly divided his activities into three parts: cultivation, exploration, and rest.

Cultivation remained the core practice. He diligently practiced the "Circulation of Qi" technique daily, and the vortex of Qi within his dantian steadily and slowly grew stronger with each circulation. The warm, comforting sensation of it filling his limbs and bones became increasingly clear. His five senses continued to enhance; he could hear the rustling of flowers and leaves in the distance, discern subtle differences in the currents of water deep within the pool, and even, when he closed his eyes and concentrated, vaguely "sense" the invisible yet real "spiritual energy" particles in the air, floating and flowing like dust.

But the problem also followed.

When he attempted to channel his spiritual energy according to the more complex meridian pathways described on the stone tablet—paths typically encountered only in the mid-stage of Qi Condensation—the originally gentle flow of energy immediately became stagnant and uncontrollable. It was like a stream trying to rush into a dry, narrow riverbed, encountering obstacles at every turn; any attempt to force it caused a dull, stinging pain in his meridians. He repeatedly studied the few words and simplified diagrams on the stone tablet—"Qi flows through the extraordinary meridians, the channels are like a net"—but couldn't grasp the essence. This technique seemed to only provide a basic framework and introductory guidance to the mid-stage of Qi Condensation; it offered no explanation of how to break through to the next level, how to build a more efficient circulation network, or how to further compress and purify spiritual energy.

"Bottleneck..." Li Bai sat cross-legged in front of the stone tablet, his fingers unconsciously tracing the cold engravings, his brows furrowed. Although he wasn't a martial artist in his previous life, he understood that any systematic growth must have key nodes and breakthrough methods. This stone tablet technique was like an incomplete introductory textbook, only teaching literacy and simple sentence construction, while the later chapters had been torn out.

He tried various methods. He practiced breathing exercises for longer periods, attempting to accumulate more spiritual energy to forcefully break through the barrier, but the result was only a slight expansion of the dantian vortex and an intensified stinging sensation in the meridians, without any signs of qualitative change. He also tried to "understand" the so-called "Eight Extraordinary Meridians" using modern knowledge, attempting to "unblock" those illusory channels from an anatomical perspective, but the two systems were completely different, and his efforts were in vain. He even risked injecting more spiritual energy into the Azure Nether Broken Sword, trying to explore higher techniques of spiritual energy utilization through the feedback from the sword, but apart from making the sword hum louder and the azure light brighter, he gained no new insights.

"A lack of crucial information, or... a lack of some kind of 'opportunity'," Li Bai concluded, his anxiety intensifying. Time was of the essence; Yang Yuhuan's fate was hanging like a sword of Damocles, drawing ever closer. He, however, was trapped in this seemingly resource-rich but ultimately impassable paradise, filled with the desire to become stronger, yet unable to find the path to advancement.

This anxiety prompted him to devote more energy to exploration.

The valley wasn't large, only a hundred feet in circumference, but its terrain was complex. Aside from the central pool, the stone tablet area, and the orchard, it was surrounded by towering, smooth rock walls, as if cleaved by a giant axe, their bases covered in thick moss and climbing vines. Li Bai began to systematically examine every inch of the rock face. He struck it with his broken sword, listening to the echo; he touched it, feeling the subtle differences in temperature and texture; he even lay on the ground, carefully observing the gaps where the rock met the earth, looking for signs of airflow.

He discovered many interesting but useless details: the moss on one rock wall was a slightly lighter color, and underneath it was a strange rock with pale golden veins; another place had particularly dense vines, and behind it was a shallow cave that could only accommodate one person curling up, the cave was dry and lined with some soft withered grass, as if small animals had once lived there, but now it was empty; and another rock wall near the pool was always moistened by water vapor, and felt cool and slippery to the touch, with some blue fungi that emitted a faint glow. When touched with a finger, the fungi would quickly shrink their glow, like shy elves.

But there is no outlet.

Every rock face was solid, producing a dull thud when struck, showing no signs of hollowness. The seemingly suspicious crevices, at their deepest, barely allowed half a finger to penetrate before revealing cold rock. He had even suspected the bottom of the pool, holding his breath and diving deeper to investigate. The water was clear yet extremely deep, dimly lit below, with increasing water pressure. He could see smooth pebbles and some slowly swaying aquatic plants on the bottom; beyond that lay utter darkness, inaccessible to his current abilities and breath-holding time. Most importantly, the water was flowing, with both inflow and outflow, but the current was extremely slow and gentle, and the outlet was clearly very narrow or hidden, far beyond human reach.

"Does it really mean I have to wait until my cultivation reaches a certain level before the mechanism to leave can be triggered? Or... is this just a closed cage?" This thought sent a chill down Li Bai's spine. He forced himself to calm down and turned his attention to the plants and stone tablets themselves.

Besides the martial arts techniques inscribed on the front of the stone tablet, were there any hidden secrets on the back and sides? He carefully examined every inscription, even washing it with water from the pool and gently running his fingers over it, trying to find hidden characters or patterns, but to no avail. The stone tablet was made of neither gold nor stone, and was incredibly hard; even a full-force strike from the Qingming Sword could only leave a white mark, unable to damage it in the slightest.

The exploration brought more disappointment and increasingly heavy pressure. The only good news was that the unsettling "thud" from the depths of the valley had never been heard again. But Li Bai dared not let his guard down; whenever he cultivated or explored deeper areas, he would devote a portion of his attention to any sounds coming from there. Silence, sometimes, was more unsettling than sound.

That day, Li Bai had just finished a failed attempt to break through his cultivation barrier. His dantian was churning, his meridians ached slightly, and he felt somewhat exhausted. He walked to the edge of the pool and scooped up a handful of cool spring water, splashing it on his face. Water droplets slid down his cheeks and dripped onto his clothes. He gazed at his reflection in the water—his face was thinner than when he first arrived, but his eyes were sharper, and a warm, lustrous sheen seemed to flow beneath his skin—a sign that spiritual energy was nourishing his body. But this was far from enough.

He straightened up, preparing to examine the northwest corner of the rock face, which he hadn't thoroughly explored the day before, as usual. There was a particularly dense thicket of bushes there, covered in small purple flowers; perhaps something was hidden behind it.

Just as he turned around—

"Click".

A very faint yet exceptionally clear crisp sound came from the direction of the valley entrance, from the passage that he had initially fallen into, which was half-hidden by vines.

It wasn't the sound of rocks collapsing naturally, nor the sound of an animal breaking a dry branch. The sound had a... deliberate quality, like hard-soled boots stepping on a loose rock.

Li Bai's muscles tensed instantly.

coming!

It wasn't the strange noise from deep within, it was the entrance! Someone has come in!

Almost instinctively, his body reacted faster than his brain. He pushed off with his feet, his figure darting backward like a cat, silently disappearing into the dense, thick-leaved clump of broad-leaved plants behind him. At the same time, his right hand rested on the hilt of the Azure Nether Broken Sword; the cool touch calmed his wildly beating heart slightly. He held his breath, lowered his body as far as possible, and stared intently at the entrance to the passage through the gaps in the plant leaves.

"Shh...shh..."

Footsteps approached from afar, unhurried, making a rhythmic grinding sound as they trod on the gravel and sand of the passageway. There was more than one person.

Soon, two figures emerged from the vine-covered passageway and stepped into the valley under the soft sunlight.

Li Bai's pupils contracted slightly.

They were two men of medium build, yet their movements exuded a lightness and agility. They wore unusual clothing: not the round-necked robes common in the Tang Dynasty or the clothing of non-Han peoples, but rather a combination of dark blue tight-fitting armor and leather armor. The fabric appeared soft yet subtly shimmered with a metallic sheen. The armor covered key areas such as the shoulders, elbows, and knees, its design simple yet flowing, possessing a timeless simplicity and practicality. Most striking were their faces—each wearing a painted wooden mask. The masks were painted with dark red, indigo, and ochre pigments, outlining abstract and imposing patterns, neither purely animal nor purely human, with two dark holes in the eye sockets, obscuring the eyes behind them.

After entering the valley, the two did not immediately look around, but naturally separated a few steps, maintaining a tacitly vigilant posture. One of them was slightly ahead, his gaze sweeping over the pool, the stone tablet, and the orchard; the other was turned to the side facing the entrance of the passage, seemingly watching for any movement behind him.

Their movements were unhurried, their auras... Li Bai focused his attention and sensed them, a chill running down his spine. The two men's breathing was long and deep, almost imperceptible, and their footsteps were so light that, unless one listened intently, they were practically one with the wind. This was no ordinary martial artist's level; there were signs of spiritual energy flowing within them! Although they didn't seem particularly powerful, perhaps only at the Qi Condensation stage, their fluid and natural movements, subtly harmonizing with their surroundings, were far beyond what he, a novice who had learned entirely on his own, could compare to.

"People from the Western Mausoleum Divine Kingdom...Patrolmen?" The thought immediately flashed through Li Bai's mind. Their attire, their masks, their aura—all so perfectly matched the environment of this secret realm. They truly existed, and they patrolled this place regularly!

The foremost guard walked straight to the black stone tablet. He stopped before it, not reaching out to touch it, but merely bowing slightly, his gaze behind his mask seemingly sweeping over the dense engravings. After a moment, he nodded, uttering a very soft, almost confirming nasal sound. Then, he turned and walked to the pool, crouching down and dipping his gloved hand into the clear spring water, seemingly to feel the temperature and speed of the current, or perhaps to examine something. After a moment, he withdrew his hand, shook off the water droplets, and stood up.

Another patrolman walked towards the orchard. He didn't pick any fruit, but approached several trees, carefully examining the various colors of fruit hanging from the branches, and then looked down at the ground beneath the trees, seemingly checking for any signs of unusual picking or damage. Li Bai secretly felt lucky; he was always extremely careful when picking fruit, only taking the ripest and most plentiful ones, and distributing them as evenly as possible across different plants, leaving very little trace.

Two rangers moved slowly through the valley, their inspection thorough and efficient. Their eyes swept over the rock walls, the ground, and the vegetation, but they showed no particular interest or suspicion. During this time, the two exchanged a few words in low voices.

That language… Li Bai pricked up his ears, but his heart sank. It wasn't any language he'd ever heard before; the syllables were short and abrupt, with some guttural sounds and trilled consonants, carrying an ancient and strange rhythm that was completely incomprehensible. This confirmed their identity—an ancient people isolated from the world, speaking the long-lost Xiling language.

They seemed to have found no trace of Li Bai's life. Li Bai had cleaned up the place meticulously; the straw mat where he had rested had long been dismantled and restored, the leftover fruit pits were carefully buried far from the center, and the fire had never been lit. He was like a cautious ghost, moving about in this valley, trying his best not to leave any trace of "humanity."

After completing the inspection, the two patrolmen met up and exchanged a few more words in hushed tones. One of them even seemed to shrug and make a gesture that suggested "everything is normal." Then, they turned and walked back towards the passageway they had come from.

Are you leaving?

Li Bai's tense nerves relaxed slightly, but his body remained absolutely still, even his breathing was suppressed to a minimum. He watched the two figures disappear one after the other into the dark passage shrouded in vines once more.

Once they leave, this crisis will be temporarily over. He can stay here to continue his cultivation and search for a way out; although the future is uncertain, at least he's safe...

Just as the patrolman behind him had one foot step into the shadows of the passage—

He suddenly stopped.

It wasn't a complete pause, but rather an extremely subtle, lingering movement. Then, slowly, seemingly with some doubt, he turned halfway back. The painted wooden mask was once again aimed at the interior of the valley.

For a fleeting moment, Li Bai's heart almost stopped beating.

The patrolman tilted his head slightly, and the two black eyeholes on his mask seemed to be truly "looking" in a certain direction. He sniffed, a very subtle movement, but in the silent valley, under Li Bai's highly focused perception, it was as clear as a thunderclap.

He's smelling it!

Li Bai instantly understood. He had cleared away the visual traces, but what about the scent? The scent of human activity—sweat, breath, even the faint fluctuations of spiritual energy…had these left any trace? He had just finished cultivating, and the fluctuations of his spiritual energy might not have completely subsided yet! Moreover, although the thicket of broad-leaved plants where he was hiding was dense, could there be a "stranger's" scent emanating from it, a scent incongruous with the original environment of this secret realm?

The patrolman in front also noticed his companion's unusual behavior. He stopped and looked back, his posture conveying a question, though he didn't say anything.

The patrolman behind did not answer his companion. His gaze slowly and scrutinizingly swept over the pool, over the stone tablet, and finally... settled on the dense thicket where Li Bai was hiding, which cast a deep shadow under the constant sunlight!

Time seemed to stand still.

The only sounds in the valley were the gentle breeze rustling through the leaves and Li Bai's own heart pounding like a drum, almost bursting out of his chest. He could feel the sharp gaze behind the mask, piercing through the layers of leaves as if it were a tangible thing, landing on his tense body.

His hand gripping the sword was drenched in cold sweat, clinging to the icy hilt. The broken Azure Sword trembled faintly within its sheath, a tremor only he could sense, as if it too were tense, gathering its strength.

To move or not to move?

Charging out to strike first? The risk is too great. There are two opponents, their cultivation levels unknown, yet their teamwork is impeccable, and I know nothing about their fighting style. Moreover, once I make a move, it would be tantamount to completely exposing myself and making an enemy of the administrators of this secret realm (if they are), with unpredictable consequences.

Should they continue to hide, gambling that the other party is merely suspicious and won't delve deeper? But the probing look in their eyes is growing stronger; they've clearly sensed something's "wrong." What if they come over to investigate...?

Sweat trickled down Li Bai's forehead, dripping into his eyes and causing a stinging sensation. He dared not blink, staring intently at the figure that stood at the entrance of the passage, seemingly weighing an immense weight.

The patrolman stared at the bushes for a full three breaths.

Then, he slowly lifted his foot.

Instead of heading towards the passage, he took a step towards the direction where Li Bai was hiding.