Chapter Seventy-One: Gazing at the Distant Waterfall

Boom!

The meteor collided with the great waterfall, unleashing an ear-splitting roar. The enormous force it carried counteracted the downward momentum of the waterfall, causing the torrent to halt once more, suspended in midair.

Yet this time, Ruolan unleashed her full strength, far surpassing her previous attempt. After opposing the downward surge of water, she still had enough power left to alter its direction. In an instant, the entire waterfall—nearly a thousand meters tall—began to flow upward, creating a spectacle never before seen.

“Did Ruolan succeed?” Chunli covered her mouth in astonishment.

Zilong was equally dumbfounded, witnessing the Lushan waterfall flowing against its course.

Yin Seventeen and Tong Hu, however, both shook their heads in unison.

It was still too forced.

Sure enough, the miraculous sight of the waterfall flowing in reverse lasted barely two seconds before it returned to its natural state, crashing down the mountainside with unstoppable force.

“Still not enough?”

After landing back on the beam, Ruolan sighed helplessly at the scene before her. The power of her cosmos was simply too weak; even with the aid of her sacred armor, she could only barely induce a reverse flow in the waterfall, far from matching the force of its descent.

“Well? Do you believe me now?” Yin Seventeen said with a smile.

“Hmph!”

Ruolan stepped down from the beam, shooting him a fierce glare.

“Young man, why don’t you give it a try?” Tong Hu, standing at the cliff’s edge, glanced meaningfully at Yin Seventeen.

“Me?”

Surprised to be called upon, Yin Seventeen laughed, “Master Tong Hu, I think I’ll pass.”

“You should know, making this waterfall reverse is no challenge for me!”

With that, he extended his index finger, gathering his cosmos at the tip, and lightly touched the waterfall. Instantly, a silver light descended upon the torrent.

In a flash, the entire Lushan waterfall halted in midair, motionless.

“Rise!”

With a soft command, Yin Seventeen lifted his finger, and the waterfall immediately began to surge upward, more ferocious than its original descent.

“This… this…”

Zilong pointed at the waterfall, stunned into silence.

He had trained arduously for years, barely able to stop the waterfall’s downward force, still far from being able to reverse its flow. Yet this man, with a mere gesture, made the waterfall flow upward—he was incredible!

Beside him, Ruolan refused to be outdone, retorting, “Hmph! Once I reach the Silver level, I’ll be able to do this too!”

Tong Hu shook his head, saying, “Even if you reach the Silver level, you won’t be able to do it as effortlessly as he does!”

The old man waved his hand gently, sending a surge of cosmos into the waterfall.

Yin Seventeen, controlling the reverse flow, instantly felt his cosmos neutralized, and the waterfall resumed its descent, returning to normal.

Tong Hu explained to Ruolan, “The Cupbearer is skilled at controlling water. He’s using his water manipulation abilities to directly command the waterfall’s flow—not, like you, relying solely on raw strength to force it upward.”

“Even if you reach his level, you’ll never be as effortless as he is.”

Though the result was similar, the methods were fundamentally different.

Controlling water—it was almost like cheating on an exam.

“So that’s how it is. But, Master, how do you know so much about the Cupbearer?” Understanding at last, Ruolan asked curiously.

“Because the previous Cupbearer Saint was once my dearest friend!” the old man replied with a smile.

Because of that connection, he felt a special kinship with Yin Seventeen—it was more than just a shared origin from the East.

He then looked to Yin Seventeen, saying, “Enough with these little tricks! Let me see how far your training has brought you, young man!”

Sensing the Golden Saint’s intention to instruct him, Yin Seventeen nodded immediately.

“Yes, Master Tong Hu!”

He walked slowly onto the beam before the waterfall, collected his spirit, and ignited his cosmos with all his might.

In an instant, an incredibly sharp cosmos erupted before the waterfall. The entire torrent parted like a curtain, drawing everyone’s attention.

Chunli’s face turned pale, for it was her first time witnessing such an aggressive cosmos; Ruolan, too, grew solemn and silent.

She recalled the last time in the Crocodile God’s underground city, when Yin Seventeen had slain three Silver-level Crocodile Saints in an instant.

“This cosmos—there’s no doubt it’s him!” Tong Hu nodded to himself.

Zilong furrowed his brow in alarm, exclaiming, “What a terrifying presence! Is this what a Silver Saint is like?”

Without even making a move, Yin Seventeen’s cosmos alone had split the waterfall in two.

Zilong extended his root perception to examine it up close, but Yin Seventeen’s cosmos was like a blade—his root senses were sliced to ribbons the moment they touched the aura, unable to approach.

He hardly seemed human—more like a sharp, gleaming sword!

On the beam, having adjusted his state, Yin Seventeen pressed his fingers together like a sword and leapt into the air.

Reaching the peak of his ascent, he pointed at the waterfall, and a silver sword aura shot into the torrent.

In an instant, the waterfall’s flow was neutralized by the cosmos embedded in the sword aura, halting abruptly in midair.

Then, as Yin Seventeen descended with gravity, he rapidly waved his sword fingers, sending wave after wave of sword aura into the waterfall.

“What is he doing?” Chunli asked in bewilderment.

Though she had ignited her cosmos, it was only just kindled; among those present, she was the weakest, unable to discern what Yin Seventeen was doing.

“He… he seems… he seems to be writing?” Ruolan said uncertainly.

Yin Seventeen’s movements were precise—horizontal strokes, vertical strokes, sweeping strokes, dotting strokes, just like writing characters.

Yet the sword aura entered the waterfall without any visible change, leaving her unsure.

After a few seconds, Yin Seventeen landed back on the beam, but he didn’t stop. He leapt again, rapidly waving his sword fingers before the waterfall.

After four such leaps, he finally withdrew his aura and stood steadily on the beam.

At that moment, the waterfall, frozen in midair, began to change.

Some droplets slowly trickled down, revealing four lines of hollowed-out characters upon the waterfall.

“Sunlight on the incense burner brings forth purple mist,
From afar the waterfall hangs before the river.
Flying torrents plunge three thousand feet,
As if the Milky Way falls from heaven.”

Tong Hu applauded and laughed heartily.

“What a poem, what a poem!”

“Did you just compose it?” he asked curiously.

This poem described the Lushan waterfall, though there was no incense burner here—he wondered how Yin Seventeen came to write it.

“I lack such literary talent!” Yin Seventeen waved his hand, smiling as he explained, “A poet once passed through Lushan and wrote this verse for the waterfall.”

“Today, the occasion arose, so I borrowed it!”