Small River Town.

Mount Shushan branch office.

Early in the morning, Old Zhang, a disciple of Mount Shushan, emerged from Widow Wang's house. With a gourd tied at his waist, he walked along the riverbank through muddy paths.

He glanced around and cursed under his breath.

Old Zhang yawned loudly, feeling unwell in his bones.

Was he really getting old?

"Old Zhang! Old Zhang!"

Two children suddenly came running from behind.

Without looking at them, Old Zhang growled, "Scram, don't bother me."

He pulled out a document from his pocket.

"Damn it! After all my years of hard work, they accuse me of corruption? How the hell did I corrupt anything?

Wasn't easy getting to this position. What's wrong with taking a little extra?

Without some... incentives, how could I climb higher?"

"Old Zhang! Old Zhang!"

"Get lost!" Old Zhang roared impatiently.

"Finished... this time I'm really done for. Back at Mount Shushan, I'll be imprisoned for at least a hundred years.

A hundred years without wine... I might as well die."

"Old Zhang... Old Zhang..."

"SCREW OFF!!"

With this furious shout, Old Zhang's voice suddenly rose several octaves. His eyes bulged grotesquely, veins popping on his forehead.

His already rough skin turned crimson with rage, as if dipped in blood.

The two children were terrified, their faces pale and bodies trembling violently.

Soon, Old Zhang caught a whiff of urine - one child had wet himself in fear.

Old Zhang was puzzled. These kids knew him well and had seen him angry before - why such extreme fear today?

Suddenly, the hairs on his neck stood up.

He whirled around. "FUCK!!"

Old Zhang's curse echoed as he saw the previously calm river water begin boiling before violently reversing its flow. Within seconds, the backward current surged dozens of feet high.

Old Zhang quickly realized - that wasn't just river water...

Netherwater?

He recalled Mount Shushan's recent warning about monitoring Netherwater activity.

He'd dismissed it - what Netherwater could appear in such a backwater place?

But now it was too late.

The reverse current advanced with terrifying speed, silently absorbing everything in its path.

Old Zhang's eyes widened in horror at the spectral figures writhing within the Netherwater.

Cold sweat drenched his back as his heart seemed to stop.

With the Netherwater's appearance, the world itself seemed drained of color, turning dark and oppressive.

Black clouds loomed like a crushing weight.

Old Zhang stood trembling on the bank.

"FUCK!!"

"RUN!!"

His roar nearly ruptured the eardrums of every Small River Town villager simultaneously hearing his warning.

Old Zhang took a deep breath, channeling all his spiritual energy.

"SCREW YOUR ANCESTORS!!"

A vortex of spiritual power formed in his hands.

.......

Dawn's light pierced the clouds, golden rays bursting through the cracks like memories of bygone peace.

Old Zhang lay on the ground, squinting against the light.

The glare seemed blood-red to his fading vision.

Suddenly he felt very tired.

Children's cries sounded distant as the wind carried wails of despair.

Like that snowy morning years ago when the storm finally ceased.

Though shouts echoed around him, he could no longer hear them.

In his final glimpse, a figure descended.

"Hmm?"

A Mount Shushan disciple.

"Mount Shushan disciple Li Xuanxiao," the young man said.

Old Zhang exhaled his last breath.

Li Xuanxiao remained silent for a moment.

He recognized Old Zhang.

Soon to face Mount Shushan's judgment for corruption charges.

Death absolves all debts.

Li Xuanxiao reached out and closed Old Zhang's eyes.

"See off our senior brother!"

His gaze was drawn to the countless expanding Netherwater rivers nearby, their currents teeming with resentment, surging forward relentlessly.

The spectral figures within were indistinct, veiled in mist, yet their palpable hatred felt solid as stone.

The River of Nether!

Li Xuanxiao's first encounter with this phenomenon only recorded in ancient texts.

As countless Netherwater currents threatened to engulf him,

Li Xuanxiao stood firm, facing the terrifying river without flinching.

Suddenly, a brilliant milky-white sword aura streaked down from the sky.

At its center stood a white-robed man.

Lu Ziyin.

With one hand forming a sword seal, Lu Ziyin stood wreathed in thick sword energy.

When the sword aura struck the Netherwater sea, it initially seemed ineffective.

Yet moments later,

The River of Nether convulsed violently.

The sword aura exploded through it, cleaving the river apart.

Lu Ziyin landed before Li Xuanxiao.

"Report."

"He's already dead," Li Xuanxiao said.

Lu Ziyin sighed silently.

More Netherwater rivers surged forth from various locations - some large, some small.

Appearing and disappearing unpredictably.

"BOOOOM—!!"

As a distant mountain collapsed spectacularly,

Fleeing villagers screamed in terror.

A figure flashed past.

Lin Wanqing's sword sliced through the falling mountain before she formed a seal,

Reducing the debris to dust.

A child about to be swallowed by Netherwater was suddenly scooped up by Second Senior Brother Pei Qi.

Feng Liuli and Sixth Senior Sister Yunran arrived in quick succession.

Lu Ziyin's first mission leading all Silver Sword Peak members.

Turning his back to the River of Nether, Lu Ziyin's voice boomed like temple bells:

"Fear not, people! Mount Shushan disciples are here!!"