Night in the Southern Border always reeked of blood.
Halfway up Broken Soul Mountain, the Black Blood Stockade loomed like a dormant beast, flickering in and out of view beneath the omnipresent gray-black "Iron Thread Miasma."
This poisonous fog was extremely dangerous and corrosive; a mortal who touched it would need half a month of rest to recover.
But to Gu Masters, this was merely the baseline for survival.
Creak—
A small window in the academy dormitory scraped open a crack, emitting a faint, tooth-aching groan.
A lean figure slipped through, movements light and soundless as a cat toying with prey, landing without a sound.
The youth was named Lin Mu, sixteen years old, a branch family disciple of the Lin Clan.
It had been three years since he transmigrated from Earth.
Just three days ago at the "Aperture Opening Ceremony," under the gaze of the entire stockade, he had awakened B-grade aptitude.
To others, this was great luck. But to him, who had read *Reverend Insanity* thoroughly, this was just a slightly larger cage.
"Not enough. To survive, I must become stronger by any means necessary."
Lin Mu lay low in the weeds, his fingertips touching the damp, fishy-smelling soil.
He knew clearly that he had no System.
In this cannibalistic world, his only reliance was the cold laws revealed by the book in his mind.
This wasn't Gu Yue Village, and there was no demon named Fang Yuan here.
But across the Southern Border's hundred thousand mountains, the rules were universal.
The exploitation of resources by large clans and the ecological habits of Gu worms were the same everywhere.
Lin Mu lowered his center of gravity, his gaze sweeping over the heavily guarded logistics area like a falcon.
His greatest fortune was exactly this: he didn't have to confront that demon whose schemes were as deep as the abyss.
Before the real Fang Yuan, the current Lin Mu didn't even qualify as a pawn.
What he had to do was avoid that black hole-like vortex of karma.
Relying on his understanding of the plot, he would intercept the opportunities that had not yet emerged.
Only in this way could he survive.
Thinking of this, the subtle clues—the hidden threads of fate—from the book flashed through his mind.
In his past life, he had done deep research on Fang Yuan's early development.
He knew that Southern Border settlements were mostly built by springs, and the backyard of a kitchen—perennially damp and smelling of aged wine—had a high probability of birthing a top-tier auxiliary Gu capable of purifying Primeval Essence: the Liquor Worm.
In this world, the rarity of a Liquor Worm was frighteningly high. Even the Elders of Black Blood Stockade rarely laid eyes on one.
"The environmental conditions are identical. Behind the kitchen is the outlet of Broken Soul Mountain's yin vein..."
Lin Mu took a deep breath, silently counting the time.
Years of observation had allowed him to map the patrol patterns.
Today was the best time to strike. The patrol squads rotated every two quarters of an hour.
Right now, he had less than a hundred breaths of time.
He deftly avoided a distant patrol squad.
The guards carried Firefly Gu lanterns, their ghostly green light swaying through the miasma with an underworld air.
Lin Mu held his breath, pressed against slick stone walls, feeling his heart hammer against his ribs, each beat bringing a wave of tinnitus.
He was gambling.
Gambling on patrol blind spots, gambling on his foreknowledge of "world mechanics."
Moments later, a weed-choked, half-collapsed well appeared behind the kitchen corner.
A sharp, intensely mellow wine fragrance pierced the damp air, faintly entering Lin Mu's nostrils.
Though a heavy stone slab covered the well mouth, that intoxicating aroma couldn't be fully suppressed—the signature of thousand-year vintage.
"That's it. When wild Liquor Worms hibernate, they frantically absorb heaven and earth essence, expelling impurities as fragrant alcohol. This scent is proof of its existence!"
Lin Mu's eyes blazed with unprecedented intensity.
Arms straining, veins bulging like earthworms on his young limbs, he slowly, carefully pushed aside the stone slab's corner, feeling bone-chilling cold rise from below.
Without hesitation, he descended the moss-slicked well wall like a gecko into the dark abyss.
The well bottom was bitterly cold, piled with rotted leaves and broken pottery.
In this damp depth, the air itself seemed frozen.
At the debris center, a weak, jade-like white light pulsed with rhythmic breathing.
A thumb-sized insect, snow-white as congealed fat with jade-smooth texture, curled on broken wine jar fragments with an almost cute appearance, emanating intoxicating wine qi.
"Rank 1 Liquor Worm... my Liquor Worm."
Lin Mu's heart threatened to burst through his chest.
In this Gu world, the Liquor Worm's effect was heaven-defying.
It could refine early-stage Green Copper Primeval Essence to mid-stage, mid-stage to high-stage—the rare tiered refinement ability that set it apart from ordinary support Gu.
Despite only B-grade aptitude, possessing it would let Lin Mu match A-grade geniuses in Primeval Essence quality—or exceed them.
His trembling hand reached out, fingertips quivering with extreme excitement.
Inside this youth called Lin Mu burned the fires of ambition and desire.
But fate never released the greedy easily.
Tap.
Just as Lin Mu's fingers neared the white light, an extremely faint but heavy bootfall sounded above the well.
Lin Mu's body froze instantly.
His breath seemed severed by crushing gravity.
"Captain, thought I saw a shadow in those trees earlier. Some brat sneaking out to steal wine?"
A hoarse voice spoke above, tinged with uncertainty.
"Hmph. Activate the Heat Source Gu. Check this well. Stockade rules—night trespassers in the kitchen forfeit all property, receive fifty lashes, lose clan membership."
Another voice, cold as ice. Gao Xiong, patrol captain. A Rank 1 Upper Stage expert.
An intense, blinding orange-red beam suddenly pierced the well's long darkness like a red-hot blade!
Lin Mu's pupils contracted to pinpoints from sheer terror.
Heat Source Gu—standard issue for Southern Border guards. It sensed body heat from all living things within fifty paces.
In this narrow, damp, dead-end well, it was Lin Mu's death knell.
"Damn it!"
Lin Mu's mind raced frantically.
Undiscovered, he'd be Black Blood Stockade's future hope.
Caught with this treasure while violating curfew? The greedy elders would tear him apart, possibly refine him into a blood slave.
In a flash, Lin Mu revealed his ruthless core.
Without hesitation, he grabbed handfuls of ice-cold, rotting mud mixed with well water.
The slurry, frozen from years of accumulation, chilled to the bone.
He rapidly smeared the nauseating sludge across his entire face, hands, feet—every exposed inch of skin.
Not just to evade sight, but to suppress his feverish body temperature with the mud's chill.
Then he whirled around, cramming himself into the darkest crevice shadow along the well wall.
One hand clamped down on the struggling Liquor Worm in his chest, letting its tiny mouthparts bite through his palm in panic, blood flowing freely.
The piercing pain nearly made him cry out, but he only bit his tongue harder, using agony to force calm.
Hold breath. Focus.
Even his faint heartbeat seemed to slow through some secret technique.
The orange-red light swept the well bottom frantically.
The beam passed pottery shards, broken bowls—for one instant, scorching radiance directly swept across his mud-caked spine.
Sizzle—
Lin Mu seemed to hear the Heat Source Gu's faint resonance detecting warmth.
His Primeval Essence churned violently in his aperture from excessive tension.
"Captain, think there's some heat signature at the bottom?" the guard asked uncertainly.
Lin Mu's pupils locked on a moss insect on the wall. Cold sweat slid down his spine.
"This well sits on spiritual spring runoff. Some temperature variance is normal."
Gao Xiong sounded impatient.
"Look carefully. Is the heat fluctuating? If it's moving, something's hiding. If steady, just ambient."
The light beam paused.
It pinned Lin Mu's corner like a nail.
Lin Mu became stone. He felt his very blood congeal.
The Liquor Worm's slippery presence against his chest—that heaven-defying fortune—now weighed like mountains.
"This is the Gu Master world... Fang Yuan, did you also survive walking this tightrope?"
Lin Mu screamed silently.
One breath, two breaths, three...
Time stretched infinitely. Under that orange beam, Lin Mu endured trial by ordeal.
Finally, the death ray slowly withdrew.
"Nothing there. Just rotten leaves and moldy wine stench. Not even a rat. Let's check the back mountain bamboo grove—brats always gambling there. Catch one or two, that's this month's drinking money."
"Right, Captain. Told you—with you watching, who'd dare make trouble?"
"Cut the flattery. Move."
Footsteps receded.
Lin Mu held position, motionless. Waiting to see if the suspicious Gao Xiong would double back.
A full quarter-hour passed before the last firelight vanished.
Only then did Lin Mu collapse at the well bottom, gasping deeply with forced restraint.
Done.
He opened his bloody palm.
Through the mangled flesh, the jade-white Liquor Worm seemed more lustrous from absorbing his blood.
"Not finished yet."
Lin Mu wiped mud from his face, suppressed cruelty churning in his eyes like tides.
He understood Gao Xiong too well.
That viper wouldn't go far.
Right now he likely lurked in some shadow, breath held, waiting for prey to surface before striking with lethal fangs.