Su Ming took the token, its touch warm and smooth.

One thousand military merit points.

In the rear, one would have to complete ten tedious formation plate repair tasks to earn this much.

Walking out of the command post, the wind outside seemed even stronger.

Zhao Tiji walked ahead, remaining silent the entire way.

Only when they returned to the third squad’s defense sector did he stop, turn around, and look at Su Ming.

His rock-like, cold, and hard face held a somewhat complex expression.

“Just now in front of the Commandant, you didn’t shirk responsibility, nor did you claim credit for being the one who discovered it,” Zhao Tiji said in a muffled voice.

Su Ming smiled, straightening his wind-ruffled robe hem. “I’m a soldier brought up by the squad leader. The squad leader’s oversight is my dereliction of duty. Fixing it was just our squad’s good luck.”

This was the wisdom of the “Way of Survival.”

In the workplace, especially on a battlefield where death could come at any moment, stepping on your superior to climb higher was the dumbest move.

Giving face to your superior while pocketing the actual benefits (military merit) for yourself was the strategy for long-term survival.

Zhao Tiji stared at Su Ming for a long moment, then suddenly grinned, the scar on his face twisting with the motion, making him look somewhat ferocious, yet also adding a touch of sincerity.

He extended his large, palm-fan-like hand and gave Su Ming’s shoulder a heavy pat.

“You, kid, you’re alright.”

Zhao Tiji’s voice no longer carried the explosive edge it had before. “Don’t call me ‘squad leader’ anymore. In private, call me Brother Zhao. On this stretch of wall, as long as Brother Zhao still has a breath in him, no one will be able to lay a finger on you, Brother Su.”

Su Ming swayed from the pat, grimacing as he rubbed his shoulder.

“Then, many thanks, Brother Zhao.”

In his Consciousness Sea, Lin Yu clicked his tongue in admiration. “Not bad, disciple. That move of ‘returning good for evil’ was played smoothly. Now you’ve firmly established your footing within this small group.”

Su Ming watched Zhao Tiji’s retreating back, his gaze clear.

“This isn’t about playing tricks,” Su Ming said inwardly. “In a place like this, having one more comrade willing to take a blade for you is more useful than having one more magical implement.”

He tightened his grip on the military merit token in his hand.

Still forty-nine thousand points short of fifty thousand.

The road ahead is long and arduous.

“Brother Su! What are you spacing out for? Chow time!” Zhao Tiji’s booming voice came from afar. “There’s second-tier savage beef today! If you’re late, you won’t even get the broth!”

“Coming!”

Su Ming responded and quickly followed.

……

The walls of Stone House Number Seven in the Bing District were black, a hue born from years of erosion by the earth vein’s murderous aura.

The night was deep. Outside, the wind’s wail had turned into a piercing shriek, like countless blunt knives scraping against that precarious, shimmering curtain. Inside the stone house, a heavy chill permeated the air. Even with warmth-preservation seals deployed, that bone-piercing coldness remained stubbornly present.

On the low table, a flickering oil lamp cast a dim, bean-sized light.

Su Ming sat cross-legged on a meditation cushion, eyes closed, his right index finger lightly resting on the edge of a slightly loose stone slab on the ground.

Beneath his fingertip, a pale yellow sensing talisman transmitted extremely faint tremors in rhythm with the earth’s pulse.

“Thump… thump-thump… thump…”

This sound wasn’t heard through the ears; it traveled directly through his finger bones, striking against his Consciousness Sea.

“One hundred and thirty-seventh time.”

Su Ming counted silently in his mind, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “The frequency has changed. Earlier in the night, it was three long, one short. Now it’s two short, one rapid, and the epicenter’s location has shifted about thirty zhang towards the ‘Celestial Pivot Position’.”

In his Consciousness Sea, Lin Yu’s figure hovered mid-air, holding a non-existent, illusory notebook, scribbling and sketching on it.

“This doesn’t seem like the earth vein’s natural expansion and contraction,” Lin Yu’s voice carried a note of certainty. “When an earth vein shifts, it’s a grand, sweeping movement, like a person turning over in sleep—heavy and slow. But this disturbance is sneaky, fragmented yet dense, more like…”

“Like a bunch of rats gnawing at the foundation,” Su Ming finished the thought.

“To be precise, like ancient subterranean demonic creatures,” Lin Yu corrected. “According to a marginal note in that ‘Northern Border Strange Tales Record’ from the Scripture Depository, there’s a type of low-tier demon beast called the ‘Earth-Devouring Hog’ that loves to eat rock layers associated with spirit ore deposits. The foundation of Iron Wall Pass is made of ten-thousand-year Mystic Iron rock. To them, it’s probably like braised pork with crunchy cartilage.”

Su Ming slowly withdrew his finger, rubbing his slightly stiff fingertip.

“If it really is Earth-Devouring Hogs, the number is probably not small,” Su Ming opened his eyes, looking at the flickering oil lamp. “Individually, these creatures aren’t scary. What’s terrifying is them swarming together to hollow out the foundation underground. If a beast tide arrives one day, and fighting erupts above while the ground suddenly collapses below…”

The mental image was too grim. Su Ming didn’t dare continue the thought.

He took out a blank jade slip from his robe and meticulously inscribed the vibration frequency, location, and intensity he had just sensed into it with extremely detailed data.

“This is evidence.”

Su Ming murmured, “But if I present it now, no one will believe it. They won’t mobilize manpower to excavate the foundation based solely on a newcomer’s intuition.”

After doing this, he turned his gaze to the cyan jade slip resting on his lap.

That was the “Eight Gates Lost Trace Incomplete Formation” gifted by Elder Qingquan.

The jade slip’s surface was warm and smooth, emitting a faint glow. In this frigid stone house, it was like the only source of warmth.

“One hundred and eighth time.”

Su Ming took a deep breath, adjusted his sitting posture, straightening his back until it was ramrod straight.

These past few days, whenever he had a spare moment, he would immerse his divine sense into it.

Yet, every single time, the result was a retreat in defeat.

“Let’s begin.”

Su Ming focused his mind. His divine sense poured forth like quicksilver, instantly penetrating the jade slip.

The world before his eyes instantly transformed.

Thousands of spiritual energy nodes danced chaotically in the void like runaway stars.

If it were an ordinary incomplete formation, even with broken nodes, their trajectories would remain. One could follow the clues and eventually find the logic for repair.

But this “Eight Gates Lost Trace Incomplete Formation” was different.

The moment Su Ming tried to capture a node that seemed like the “Life Gate,” it disintegrated upon contact, transforming into a counter-current that crashed into the nearby “Death Gate,” triggering a chain reaction of explosions.

What should have been a logically rigorous formation now resembled a prison of logical paradoxes filled with contradictions.

Every deduction contradicted itself; every attempt at repair accelerated the collapse.

“Hiss—”

Su Ming grunted, his face instantly turning deathly pale. Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down his temples.

His divine sense was painfully twisted by that chaotic spiritual current, as if someone were stirring his brain with steel needles.

He abruptly severed the divine sense connection, leaning back with a gasp, breathing heavily.

“Failed again.”

Su Ming rubbed his throbbing temples, a flash of frustration in his eyes. “All the principles of the Five Elements’ mutual generation and restraint are completely ineffective here. Water generating fire, metal restraining earth… it’s utterly absurd.”

“Absurd?”

Lin Yu pointed outside the window.

Through the stone house’s narrow vent window, one could see Iron Wall Pass’s massive light curtain connecting heaven and earth.

In the deep night’s cold wind, the light curtain trembled slightly. Some areas were bright as day, while others were dim as candle flames. The flow of spiritual energy wasn’t smooth; it was, in fact, stumbling and halting.

“Look at that grand formation.”

Lin Yu’s voice became distant. “It has operated for ten thousand years. In those ten thousand years, it has been rammed by demon beasts, blasted by Demonic Cultivators, had its foundation collapse, its Formation Hubs replaced. Every generation of Formation Masters has patched it up. Zhang San fixed one piece, Li Si modified another spot. By now, it’s long since ceased to be the original blueprint.”

Su Ming’s gaze fixed intently on that light curtain.

At the edge of his “observation micro state” vision, he saw those torrents of spiritual energy.

They weren’t flowing along straight pipelines. They were like winding snakes, bypassing damaged nodes, forming eddies before congested passes, then overflowing, seeking new paths, finally converging into a barely usable force.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep