After Xia Wei finished figuring out the Wind-Riding–class ship, Po Lang (Breaking-Waves), the group—three people and one beast—switched vessels on the spot.
This was Xia Wei's first time handling a Wind-Riding ship. The operating principles weren't fundamentally different from ordinary river craft, but "similar" didn't mean "simple." At this level, even a slight mistake in formation timing or steering rhythm could become a disaster.
"Whoosh!"
The Po Lang—snatched straight from Wei An—proved itself a true king of speed. At the very least, it didn't disappoint Lin Ye.
Lin Ye stood steady on the deck and felt the airflow and water-pressure patterns as the ship tore forward.
"At this speed… it's already comparable to a Star-River Realm cultivator moving at full power."
The old Blood Stele ship had been fast—roughly on the level of a Heaven-Manifestation Realm sprint.
But this?
This was an outright upgrade—one tier higher.
They'd originally had forty days of river travel left.
Now?
Half a month.
Of course, there was a price.
To maintain that kind of speed, the ship needed spirit crystals as its power source.
But Lin Ye had never been the type to pinch pennies on cultivation resources, especially not when time was the true currency.
At Po Lang's pace, Luo Gui couldn't fish anymore.
Not even "casually."
He had to stay alert at all times.
The ship's materials were sturdy, yes—but at full speed, a single hidden reef, a submerged stone spine, or a head-on collision with a ferocious beast could still turn "sturdy" into "splinters."
Luo Gui's job became simple and exhausting: remove danger before danger appeared.
Seven days passed.
More than half the journey was already behind them.
Even so, the long days and nights on the water—nearly twenty days of constant motion—left Xia Wei worn down. The river wasn't a road; it was a living thing. Every so often, massive waves would come out of nowhere, slamming the hull and rocking the ship like it was being shaken by an angry god.
Xia Wei checked the map again and lifted her gaze toward the haze ahead.
"In another fifty li, we'll enter the territory of the Upper Riverlands. But to enter, we first have to pass through Phoenix-Feather Suppression Pass."
Luo Gui nodded. He knew the name, and he knew what it meant.
"Phoenix-Feather Suppression Pass?" Lin Ye asked.
"Yes," Xia Wei said. "It's a checkpoint. If you don't have a passage document—something like a permit issued by an Upper Riverlands sect—ordinary people can't get through. Their job is specifically to stop outsiders."
The idea was simple: the Upper Riverlands weren't a place anyone could just stroll into.
The sect guarding this pass was technically from the Middle Riverlands, but it had backing from above. Even before reaching the pass, the change in the environment was obvious—the spiritual energy here was already dozens upon dozens of times denser than what they'd felt in the Lingshui Riverlands.
Under such conditions, Lin Ye's Nine-Revolutions Asura Art circulated noticeably faster on its own.
It was as if the Upper Riverlands sects had formed an unspoken agreement: seal the entrances. If you wanted in, you needed to prove you deserved it.
Because once the gates opened, once the masses poured in, the Upper Riverlands would eventually become a noisy cesspool, choked with weaklings fighting over scraps.
And in this world, the weak did not deserve these resources.
Let them occupy such land long enough, and the Upper Riverlands would only grow stronger—while the lower lands would stay crushed underfoot forever. Even if a genius emerged below, it might not matter. After stepping into the Upper Riverlands, they'd discover the truth:
Your ceiling… might only be someone else's floor.
Luo Gui added, "The pass is controlled by a Three-Sect Alliance—three major sects jointly hold it and rotate tax collection. If I remember right, the 'ticket' used to be one hundred thousand spirit crystals per person."
Xia Wei inhaled sharply.
"One hundred thousand spirit crystals?!"
That was one billion spirit stones.
A threshold.
And the purpose of such a threshold was obvious: make you back off. If you couldn't pay, you didn't belong. If you could pay, they'd happily take your money.
Lin Ye's expression didn't change at all.
"It's not much. Pay the spirit crystals and don't waste time."
To him, that number was nothing.
To Xia Wei, it was a knife to the heart.
Lin Ye had slaughtered so many from Plum Blossom Sword Sect—yet after all the looting and conversion, they'd only netted around three million spirit crystals. One toll gate alone would eat a tenth of that. Three people meant three hundred thousand spirit crystals—and that was before today's surprise.
As they spoke, obstacles appeared ahead.
Huge wooden stakes and barricades stood across the water like a monstrous fence line. The river surface here was more than ten li wide—yet the barricades spanned the entire breadth.
Each timber was carved with formation patterns: resistant to rot for a thousand years, reinforced for impact, and hostile to anyone foolish enough to test them.
On one section, an arrow sign hung openly, pointing toward a designated lane.
A controlled channel. Standard practice.
If the defenders had to manage the entire river width, defense became chaotic. But if all ships were forced into a narrow passage, the guards could watch everything with ease.
Xia Wei steered Po Lang toward the arrow's direction.
If someone tried to brute-force through and smashed the stakes, they'd be marked immediately—treated as a forced breach. After that, anything could happen, and nothing good.
Once they entered the designated corridor, barricades lined both sides, funneling the route forward. The defenders left roughly two hundred meters of open water—wide enough that even large merchant ships could pass comfortably.
During these days, Lin Ye hadn't been idle.
He'd refined a batch of sixth-grade pills, and with their help he stepped into Moonwheel Fourth Realm. He also distributed some to Luo Gui and Xia Wei. The journey wasn't easy, and stronger companions were always an advantage.
Po Lang surged forward another thousand meters.
Then they finally saw it:
A defensive wall spanning the entire waterway—like a fortress gate built directly on the river.
A true pass.
Above it, three sect banners snapped in the wind:
Azure Tiger Sword Sect
Hongwei Sword Sect
Cloud-Gazing Gate
Azure Tiger and Hongwei focused on sword cultivation.
Cloud-Gazing Gate was the troublesome one: formation masters.
Outside this guarded corridor, the waters beyond the barricades were threaded with hidden arrays. Trigger one, and the results would be catastrophic. Even if the guards didn't come for you, you might not survive the formation's kill-zone.
On the far side, a separate exit corridor existed—one lane for leaving from inside the pass.
Po Lang stopped outside Phoenix-Feather Suppression Pass.
Below the fortress wall was a sluice-like gate—only wide enough for one ship at a time.
But traffic was light today. There was no line. No waiting.
Today's duty sect was Hongwei Sword Sect.
The moment they spotted Po Lang approaching, Hongwei guards struck a signal bell. Two figures shot down from the fortress wall.
Star-River Sixth Realm—both of them.
Moonwheel Realm experts didn't just appear everywhere like weeds. But inside such a pass, a Moonwheel overseer would definitely exist.
One of the Hongwei men stared down at them with cold arrogance.
"Do you have an entry letter?"
An entry letter meant an invitation or document from an Upper Riverlands sect. If you had that, the guards wouldn't obstruct you—because you had backing.
And this Three-Sect Alliance?
At most, they were gatekeepers for the Upper Riverlands. Their position existed for one reason: obedience and usefulness.
Their eyes were proud, their tone sharper than their blades.
Even if Hongwei's ranking in the Middle Riverlands wasn't dazzling, their authority here made even higher-ranked sects behave politely. One sentence—Go back—and you'd have to go back.
Force your way in?
Then you'd face the combined retaliation of the three sects… and possibly offend the Upper Riverlands power behind them.
That was why these guards acted with total confidence.
Few dared disrespect them. Over time, arrogance hardened into habit.
Luo Gui stepped forward, polite, and let a hint of his Moonwheel aura leak out—just enough to speak the language of power without drawing a blade.
"We don't have an entry letter. I ask that the two lords show some flexibility."
The two Hongwei guards felt the pressure and their expressions changed slightly.
Power mattered.
Even if they had authority, they still had to be cautious around Moonwheel Realm cultivators. You never knew when you'd end up alone someday… and remembered.
One of them spoke after exchanging a glance.
"You know the rules. No entry letter means you pay. Twelve hundred thousand spirit crystals per person."
Xia Wei's eyes snapped wide.
"Twelve hundred thousand?!"
That was not a "toll." That was extortion.
The old figure was one hundred thousand.
Now they demanded one hundred and twenty thousand—an extra twenty thousand per person. For three people, that was sixty thousand spirit crystals more… six hundred million spirit stones in pure markup.
Enough to fund a sect like Wind-Thunder Profound Sect for an entire year.
"Wasn't it one hundred thousand before?" Xia Wei shot back, unable to swallow it.
Luo Gui sighed inwardly.
Passing the King of Hell was easy. The little demons at the gate were the real trouble.
Lin Ye, however, didn't even bother arguing.
"It's fine. Pay it."
Xia Wei clenched her teeth, furious—but she still handed over three hundred and sixty thousand spirit crystals.
The two guards' faces immediately softened into friendly smiles.
"Hehe. Please proceed."
They were about to signal the gate when—
From within Phoenix-Feather Suppression Pass, a red streak of light suddenly shot up, racing in from far away as if it had crossed mountains and rivers without stopping.
The two Hongwei guards' expressions changed instantly.
Their arrogance vanished like smoke.
"Order from the Upper Sect," one of them said sharply.
"Seal the pass!"