Sludge suction system

Within White Bird Valley, jagged rocks of various shapes abound. Some resemble roaring beasts, others eagles spreading their wings, and still others seem like contemplative old men, all sculpted by time with an air of mystery and austerity. The valley wind, like a wild horse, rages through the narrow valley, its howls like the wails of ghosts and wolves. The sound is sometimes high-pitched, piercing the sky; sometimes low, plaintive, as if singing a thrilling prelude to an impending life-or-death duel, or perhaps telling the world a story of a deep, untold blood feud. Under the busy hands of the group, the Qimen Dunjia formation, like a mysterious scroll, slowly reveals a corner of its astonishing and infinitely wondrous nature.

Gong Nandou stood tall and straight, like an ancient pine tree perched atop a towering, precipitous rock. The howling wind, like invisible hands, ripped at his black robes, causing them to flutter wildly, like a summoning banner dancing in the wind, exuding a chilling aura. He held a simple, ancient compass firmly in his hands. The compass was carved with strange and intricate patterns, each pattern seemingly imbued with ancient wisdom and mysterious power, now gleaming with a faint, deep blue light, like the shimmering light of a deep pool in the valley. Driven by spiritual energy, the compass needle spun wildly, emitting a buzzing sound, like a swarm of enraged bees, eager to launch a fatal attack. The needle seemed to possess a spirit, engaging in a secret and intense dialogue with the earth's energy in White Bird Valley, probing every hidden spiritual vein in this land, guiding the formation with the most precise direction. Gong Nandou's expression was solemn, his eyes focused and deep. He muttered incantations, the obscure and difficult-to-understand spells intertwined with his deep, hoarse voice, echoing and reverberating in the valley. Each syllable was like a heavy hammer, striking the silence of the valley and guiding everyone to take every crucial step in this complex and ever-changing terrain, allowing no room for error.

Yun Luo moved with agility and grace, like a black gust of wind, darting and weaving through the valley at a speed that was breathtaking. Each step he took was precise and accurate, as if rehearsed and calculated countless times. He skillfully stepped into the crevices of the boulders, narrow and hidden like tiny cracks in the earth, or like hidden mechanisms and sentries within the Qimen Dunjia formation; or he landed lightly in the dense, deep grass, swaying in the wind, as if concealing some unspeakable secret, or adding a natural barrier to the formation. He gripped the command flag tightly, its surface embroidered with strange and mysterious runes. These runes, like ancient curses or seals of mysterious power, trembled violently in the wind, whistling as if proclaiming the formation's majesty and inviolability to the heavens and earth. With a ghostly flash, he instantly appeared at a specific location, determined by the compass and the convergence of spiritual energy in the valley—a crucial node in the entire formation. Without hesitation, he slammed the command flag into the ground. With a muffled "thud," the flag seemed to find its home, instantly merging with the surrounding earth and stone, as if embraced and absorbed by the land. This single thrust caused the ground to tremble slightly, as if the land of White Bird Valley itself was responding to the formation's call, awakening from its slumber, ready to unleash its long-dormant, mysterious power to fight alongside everyone against the impending evil forces.

Mu Yangzi, clad in a flowing grey Daoist robe, appeared like an immortal descending to earth. His otherworldly aura carried a chilling, murderous intent, as if he were a war god descended from the heavens to punish evil. His hands moved with magical hand gestures, his fingers nimble as butterflies, dancing in the air. Each movement seemed to write a mysterious celestial scripture, and streams of brilliant spiritual energy surged from his fingertips, like graceful white snakes, winding their way into the natural landscape of the valley. When the light touched the surrounding mountain walls, the originally rough and hard walls seemed to awaken sleeping giants, faintly revealing ancient runes. These runes shimmered with a faint golden light, resonating with the spiritual energy within the formation, as if telling the story of the valley's long and mysterious history. Flowing through the stream, the clear water seemed to carry mysterious incantations, which spread with the water, infusing everything in the valley with a mysterious power. The flowers and grasses along the stream trembled slightly under the nourishment of this power, as if paying homage to it. As the light flowed over the withered grass, the originally dry and decaying grass instantly stood upright, as if rejuvenated. Each blade of grass shimmered with a faint glow, as if infused with mysterious life force, becoming a loyal guardian of the formation, adding an indispensable vitality to this Qimen Dunjia formation with their meager power. Under the guidance of Mu Yangzi's spiritual power, every blade of grass, every tree, every stone, and every drop of water in White Bird Valley has become an integral part of the formation. They are no longer ordinary natural scenery, but warriors endowed with a mysterious mission, together weaving an invisible yet deadly net, waiting for the arrival of the evil person, ready to wipe them out in one fell swoop, and let the light of justice shine once again on this land shrouded in darkness.

Bai Pingping, dressed in pristine white, possessed a graceful yet resolute air, like an ice lotus blooming in the dead of winter, pure and noble. Holding a long sword, she stood silently at the heart of the formation, the core of the entire Qimen Dunjia formation and the focal point of its power. Her gaze was cold and clear as she surveyed the entire formation, her eyes revealing determination and unwavering resolve, as if nothing in this world could shake her resolve for revenge. Her hair danced wildly in the wind, like a group of lively sprites playing around her, yet it could not conceal the burning fire of hatred and the unwavering light of her conviction in her eyes.

At this moment, the spiritual energy within the formation began to intertwine, forming a faint, ethereal light curtain above the valley. This curtain, like a dreamlike veil, was ethereal and mysterious, yet contained boundless danger. Strange images flashed within the light curtain from time to time, resembling phantoms of ancient divine beasts. These beasts either bared their fangs and claws, displaying unparalleled majesty and power; or roared to the sky, as if proclaiming their existence and wrath to the heavens and earth. It also resembled scenes of fierce battle on a mysterious battlefield, with flashing swords and deafening shouts of war, making one feel as if they were in the midst of a brutal war, experiencing the tension and fear of life and death. These images shifted unpredictably, sometimes clear, sometimes blurry, inspiring awe and fear. It was as if this Qimen Dunjia formation was demonstrating its mysterious power and terrifying majesty to the world, warning anyone with ill intentions that once they stepped into this formation, they would be doomed. The atmosphere within the formation grew increasingly heavy, as if the air itself were being compressed. With each breath, one could feel the immense pressure, as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping one's throat, making it difficult to breathe.

As Mu Yangzi gazed at the gradually taking shape formation, a hint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes. He said to Yun Luo beside him, "Brother Yun, thanks to your help this time, with your ingenious arrangement of this Qimen Dunjia formation, we are sure that Wang Jing will not be able to return alive."

Yun Luo shook his head slightly, his expression serious: "Brother Mu, you are exaggerating. That villain Wang Jing committed heinous crimes, murdering the Jin and Mu families. Although I have no direct blood feud with him, such evil deeds cannot be tolerated. I will do my best to help him."

Gong Nandou leaped down from the boulder and walked to the group, his gaze resolute. "Rest assured, everyone," he said, "this formation is the culmination of my life's learning. Combined with the terrain and spiritual energy of White Bird Valley, Wang Jing has no chance of escape. His death is in three days, and we will certainly seek justice for the dead!"

Upon hearing this, everyone nodded heavily, their eyes revealing unwavering determination. They turned back to continue perfecting the formation, awaiting the impending life-or-death battle. In this tense atmosphere, White Bird Valley became even more mysterious and chilling.