After hearing Shi Jingzhi’s intermittent description, filled with suppressed pain, Yin Ci remained silent for a long while.
The night wind gently blew into the carriage, making it cool and dry. The night sky was as clear as water, with a full moon hanging overhead. The two sat closely together, a moment that should have been deeply comforting.
However, they couldn’t even enjoy this fleeting tranquility.
“Don’t speak any further. The wound on your neck hasn’t healed. Be careful not to tear it.” Seeing Shi Jingzhi, with his still fresh injury, struggling to speak, Yin Ci extended two fingers to silence him by pressing his lips.
Shi Jingzhi, deeply traumatized, was physically and mentally exhausted. He half lay in the cramped carriage, clinging to Yin Ci, as if he couldn’t bear to move even a step away.
Yin Ci was all too familiar with this state. Twenty-four years had passed, and their situations seemed to have reversed entirely. Now, it was Shi Jingzhi who stood at the edge of the abyss, and Yin Ci needed to firmly anchor him.
“I’ll repeat it again. See if there are any oversights. Just blink your eyes to respond: once for ‘yes’, twice for ‘no’.”
Yin Ci allowed him to cling, not showing a hint of impatience or disdain.
“There is an ‘inverted colossal tree’ in Great Yun, which absorbs the vital qi of everything, especially from humans. To ensure an ample supply, it uses ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’ to weed out the weak and keep humans like livestock… Given the circumstances, Luojiu also possesses a ‘Heaven’s Displeasure’. It’s highly likely they have a similar ‘Demon Tree’.”
Shi Jingzhi instinctively wanted to nod, but a sharp pain from his throat stopped him. Startled, he stiffened and blinked instead.
“Where there’s abundant vital qi, monsters arise. Considering your condition and the numerous monster materials in Yuanxian village, it appears the sporadically appearing ‘monster’ and ‘monster material’ simply inherited a unique constitution and absorbed more vital qi from the demon tree.”
If the monster materials and monsters are influenced by this colossal tree, everything would make sense. Considering the returned vital qi as “feed”, they were just better adapted and extraordinarily thriving “anomalies”.
Shi Jingzhi seemed to have come to the same realization. His eyes dimmed, and he blinked weakly.
But Yin Ci laughed. It started as a small smile but grew into hearty laughter. A beautiful man laughing under the moonlight was a delightful sight. However, considering what might be lurking in the shadows, Shi Jingzhi felt chills.
Could it be that Yin Ci was overly stimulated and on the verge of going mad? Sect Master Shi nearly lunged forward to embrace him tightly in preparation.
However, Yin Ci just continued laughing for a long while, patting Shi Jingzhi’s back comfortingly.
“Shizun has always been shrewd. Why can’t he see through this now?”
Not only was he not in despair, but he also teased. Shi Jingzhi, looking lost, let go of Yin Ci, who still seemed as steady as a mountain. Gazing into those familiar eyes, some of Shi Jingzhi’s despair dissipated.
“If the ‘Demon Tree’ has sentience, it wouldn’t let someone as troublesome as me roam freely. At the very least, it could have signaled He Cheng’an to handle me. Yet, here I am, perfectly fine. There’s only one possibility—”
Yin Ci stated casually.
“It hasn’t gained consciousness.”
It felt like a cool drink on a scorching summer day, instantly relieving Shi Jingzhi’s anxiety.
Legends of monster materials and monsters existed a thousand years ago. However, the immortal wine and the Children of Desire only appeared after the founding of Great Yun. Behind this vast conspiracy, it might not be the demon tree itself that was pulling the strings.
After all, when humans kept livestock, they didn’t have them do unnecessary tasks.
If that thing had intelligence, why rely on humans to incite the Invitation to God? Or wait for someone to execute a “Hundred-Year Project”? It could simply target influential individuals, dangling the bait of “immortality” and let people eagerly tend to its “livestock”. If people’s loyalty wavered, they could be replaced.
Perhaps the “Inverted Colossal Tree” was just a colossal tree.
Like every other tree, drawing nutrients from their roots and growing branches upward. They existed in their own right but didn’t possess thoughts or emotions. Left to its own, it would just establish its “Heaven Displeasure” and steal vital qi from other beings.
This was no different from weeds in a field or rats in a granary.
With this realization, Shi Jingzhi’s restless spirit felt grounded. He rummaged through his belongings, pulling out Chen Qianfan’s notebook, and began writing quickly with charcoal.
Seeing Shi Jingzhi’s calm demeanor, even with a hint of determination, Yin Ci leaned in, planting a tender kiss on the corner of his lips.
[Why does the Immortal Assembly nurture the ‘Children of Desire’, using them as fodder? What’s the meaning behind it?] Shi Jingzhi revealed a faint smile.
“According to Yan Budu’s original words, consuming the ‘Shirou’ would lead to immortality. If becoming an immortal means eternal life, then my current state is probably due to it… and it most likely has something to do with the demon tree.”
Yin Ci pondered.
“The Children of Desire are very cunning and outsmart most. However, they’re often overly arrogant and desire more power, making them hard to control. Inside that ‘Shirou’, there might be a means to manipulate people.”
This was said with some reservation. Being forcefully controlled might be tolerable, but the real fear was if one’s heart got erased, turning one into a loyal puppet.
As for who this loyalty would serve and who it would benefit, that was hard to say.
After all, spending over a hundred years cultivating the perfect Child of Desire, the Immortal Assembly didn’t seem to be particularly careful. They even openly confronted Shi Jingzhi without any disguises. If the ‘Shirou’ only granted longevity and Shi Jingzhi just took it and left, wouldn’t their hundred-year long plan become a joke?
Thinking of this, Yan Budu might have seen through the tricks and didn’t want to consume the ‘Shirou’.
Shi Jingzhi seemed to understand Yin Ci’s thoughts. He gave a bitter smile and then wrote down a sentence.
[I share your thoughts. That demon tree happens to have two human flesh roots. If our assumptions are correct, the person who consumed the ‘Shirou’ might still be around. We need to find that person as soon as possible.]
“Okay.”
Shi Jingzhi still looked pale from his injuries, making Yin Ci want to call it a day.
Their hardships were rooted in the mortal world. Knowing that the strange demon tree lacked wisdom, they should focus on opposing the Immortal Assembly. This way, Shi Jingzhi wouldn’t be hindered by fear.
Yin Ci comforted Shi Jingzhi, suggesting he should rest. However, Shi Jingzhi’s eyes shone coldly in the darkness.
He touched the wound on his throat, then looked at Yin Ci, writing carefully in the book—
[There are no trees on Kushan. Cutting grass without removing its roots can lead to future troubles*. Once we expose ourselves, it’ll be hard to act again.]
*(斩草除根) Idiom referring to destroying something thoroughly or dealing with the problem completely so it doesn’t recur.
Yin Ci chuckled. “What are you writing? You can’t accomplish everything at once. First, ruin their hundred-year long project; preserving our lives is the priority. As for the demon tree, we can deal with it later.”
Shi Jingzhi pursed his lips and gently shook his head. The wound didn’t hurt this time, so he sighed in relief.
A glint of affection and attachment appeared in Yin Ci’s eyes, and Shi Jingzhi knew their origin. Given Yin Ci’s personality, he probably just wanted him to live a peaceful life and leave the demon tree’s matter for after his death.
He would let Yin Ci deal with it.
[I’m insatiable. I want to grow old with you.]
After Shi Jingzhi finished writing, he circled the words “grow old with you” emphatically.
Yin Ci, realizing his thoughts were exposed, looked a bit stiff. After a pause, he tried to maintain a dignified demeanor. “Just now you were terrified, now you’re not? I think our current situation is good. Don’t think of impractical things…”
This time, Shi Jingzhi didn’t write. He cleared his throat, interrupting Yin Ci.
“No, I’m still scared.”
His voice was soft and hoarse but full of the Child of Desire’s distinctive madness.
“But I want to destroy both it and the Immortal Assembly and live with you without any reservations… I yearn for it immensely.”
In the temple at the Imperial Preceptor’s Residence.
This was Qu Duanyun’s first time here. The temple appeared darker compared to the well-lit exteriors. Incense burned for meditation wafted strongly, having been burning for a long time. Qu Duanyun identified a scent of painkillers.
The moon was obscured, making the room even darker.
There were curtains hanging in front of the altar. Behind it, a faint silhouette of a statue could be seen. Jiang Youyue took two steps forward and forcefully pulled the curtain. The sight behind made Qu Duanyun step back.
It was horrifying.
As the Imperial Preceptor’s best disciple, Qu Duanyun knew about the function of the flesh statues. But he had never seen one like this—this statue lacked the golden outer shell to hide its form and didn’t have the compassionate look of a deity. The lower half resembled a perfect statue, but the upper half was a twisted humanoid figure.
This creature’s head was the size of a human’s, but its arms and palms were about five times longer. Its spine was unnaturally bent, as if it were forcibly stuffed into a box.
The dry, hairless head’s eyes were still blinking. Suddenly exposed to the light, it squinted, making an unclear murmuring noise.
“This Disciple pays his respects to Master.”
Towards this creature, Jiang Youyue only showed reverence. He, who was usually headstrong, now seemed utterly obedient.
“Grandmaster?!” Qu Duanyun exclaimed in shock.
Although immortal wine could prolong life, it couldn’t teach people to live forever. If this monster truly was Jiang Youyue’s master, he would already be over a hundred and sixty years old—a lifespan ordinary people couldn’t achieve.
“Come here, kneel.” Jiang Youyue calmly reminded. “Previously, you only knew about the ‘Hundred-Year Project’—knowing its purpose but not the reasons behind it. Today, let Master teach you a lesson. Listen carefully.”
Qu Duanyun saw the creature twisted beyond human recognition and braced himself to kneel before it. The monster extended a huge hand, lightly placing it on Qu Duanyun’s head. The thin and withered fingers brushed past Qu Duanyun’s ear, sending shivers down his spine.
The creature paused and then murmured in an extremely vague tone. Unlike before, Qu Duanyun understood its meaning this time.
“In ancient times, there was the Hanging Tree, growing in the shadows. When it matured, it bore sparse fruits, which people called the ‘Shirou’.”
In his mind, the murmur transformed into the voice of an old man, filled with the weight of time.
“Humans find its scent enchanting, while animals are repelled by its peculiar odor. When the ‘Shirou’ appears in the world, those predestined to find it can consume it. After consumption, one’s heart becomes dominated by the Hanging Tree, achieving immortality and being called the ‘Imperial Celestial’.”
‘This is different from what Master told me,’ Qu Duanyun thought, slightly confused. Initially, his master said that only carefully cultivated individuals could eat the ‘Shirou’ to allow the Imperial Celestial to manifest. Now, it seemed anyone could consume it—even a mere farmer who stumbled upon it.
Isn’t the fate of this fruit, then, just like any ordinary tree?
The creature, seeming to be Qu Duanyun’s grandmaster, ignored his thoughts and continued, “The Hanging Tree borrows wisdom from the True Immortal, and in return, the immortal gains strength from the Hanging Tree, becoming one. When the next ‘Shirou’ matures, the immortal will be replaced—the older one will sever ties and travel to distant lands. They will then bury themselves deep in the earth, giving birth to new Hanging Trees.”
‘It’s just like any ordinary tree,’ Qu Duanyun realized. Normal trees enticed birds with its fruits, while the Hanging Tree lured humans. In the end, both aimed to spread their seeds.
As for the difference… Ordinary birds wouldn’t lose their will upon eating the fruits.
“With the assistance of the True Immortal, we can set up formations to spread roots and eliminate external threats. We can also seek good weather and avoid calamities through the power of the Hanging Tree.”
“Unfortunately, everyone is different, with varying intelligence and power. The heart of the True Immortal belongs to the Hanging Tree, but they retain the desires from their mortal lives, making it difficult to achieve eternal accomplishments. To unify all countries under Great Yun and create a prosperous era for thousands of years, one needs a purely ambitious ruler to become the true Imperial Celestial.”
“Although the True Immortal has a limited lifespan, they can guard our Great Yun for hundreds of years. From there, we can carefully select and refine. With the power of the Hanging Tree, we can achieve the grand ambition of Great Yun… This is the ‘Hundred-Year Project’.”
As the words ended, a vision was imprinted in Qu Duanyun’s mind. He saw territories merging, and a giant Hanging Tree growing, its roots reaching the skies, overshadowing the sun, creating an indescribable sight.
Between heaven and earth, temples dotted the vast landscape, each looking as insignificant as a grain of millet. Yet, it was this very grain that shaped the world.
Qu Duanyun’s heart almost stopped. He couldn’t tell who was using whom; humans using gods or the other way around.
Jiang Youyue sighed in amusement. “You… are just like me back then. Very good. If you feared the Hanging Tree, you wouldn’t be suited for this position.”
“This Disciple was arrogant and didn’t understand the painstaking efforts of my predecessors,” Qu Duanyun replied with a complicated look, regaining his senses after a long pause.
“If I could achieve such a grand legacy, I’d gladly eat the ‘Shirou’. Unfortunately, the winners write history, and Shi Jingzhi is much stronger than me… The ‘Hundred-Year Project’ will surely be realized soon.”
Jiang Youyue nodded in approval.
“But I have one more question.”
“Ask away.”
“The Hanging Tree is strange and hard to control. Master, even with the True Immortal as a mediator, have there been any mishaps over these centuries?”
Jiang Youyue’s expression shifted upon hearing this. After a brief silence, he shook his head.
“Just a minor ‘source of trouble’ that we’ve dealt with. When you’re more familiar, I’ll tell you.”
The author has something to say:
Fox: ? Guess if I’ll eat?
Demonic Lord: ? Guess where the troublemaker is now?
Shi Jingzhi had never experienced the sensation of being “on the verge of death”.
His memories of those desperate moments were vivid, yet over the course of two decades, the bitterness of those memories had faded. This time was different. The knife that slid across his throat chilled him to the bone, followed by a burning, stabbing pain. Su Si’s strike was precise, not severing his windpipe, but the gushing blood still left Shi Jingzhi in utter shock.
It felt as if he had plunged into a frozen lake, every move requiring immense effort. All sounds seemed muffled, merging into a fuzzy cacophony. A heavy sense of fear surged, nearly consuming him.
Shi Jingzhi wished to pass out. However, his heart pounded uncontrollably while panic and terror caused tingling sensations throughout his limbs, forcing him to stay conscious. An overwhelming fear bore down on him, causing intense headaches. He could see nothing, grasp no one; his mind was filled only with suffocation and terror.
It felt like being trapped in a lightless chamber, hearing unseen instruments of torture being prepared. Such torment was too much for any ordinary person, let alone a Child of Desire.
…Was Yin Ci, buried underground for over eighty years, also in such agony?
Thinking of Yin Ci in a daze, Shi Jingzhi regained a bit of clarity. Amidst the suffocating pain, it seemed he had grasped a helping hand, settling his spirit.
But as he gradually regained lucidity, Shi Jingzhi faintly felt something else.
As his life ebbed away and his senses faded one by one, a very faint awareness emerged—
Around him, it felt like he was bound by countless unseen “fine roots”. Numerous vital qi flowed through them, continuously pouring into Shi Jingzhi’s meridians. He felt like a bizarre plant, vaguely sensing the boundaries of this odd “root system”.
When they first discovered the secrets of the flesh idol, their speculation was correct.
At the end of these “roots” were cities housing the Imperial Celestial temples. Cities like Yidu, Qizhou, and Yongsheng, densely populated metropolises, channeled particularly abundant vital qi. People knelt before the statues, praying with earnest desires. Qi, tainted with desires, was siphoned by the magic, ultimately flowing into Shi Jingzhi’s flesh and blood.
…But this was something they had already guessed.
These qi poured in ceaselessly, day and night. Not only were they enough to keep him alive, they threatened to overwhelm him. Shi Jingzhi cautiously felt this “temple root system” that spanned the entire nation, trying to decipher its mysteries.
The cold embrace of impending death clung to him, making coherent thought especially challenging. Unbeknownst to him, he lost all connection to the external world. Fighting to retain his sanity, Shi Jingzhi forced himself to delve deeper—
Despair arrived in a flash.
As if sensing Shi Jingzhi’s struggle, another force emerged from the void. It was chaotic and dim, but carried an oppressive aura, like a giant hand poised to strike, gently enclosing Shi Jingzhi within.
The force’s appearance and disappearance was but a fleeting moment. It was like a firework exploding in the dark, its transient light illuminating the shadows, or ripples in murky waters upon hitting unseen reefs.
Fortunately or unfortunately, only in that split second, Shi Jingzhi’s dwindling concentration happened to be fully focused on the “temple root system”. Thanks to this force, he inadvertently “saw” another outline.
Roots.
His “temple root system”, which spread across mountains, rivers, lakes, and seas, was entirely enveloped by another set of “roots”.
These were denser, more hidden, and even more terrifying. Their growth direction was opposite to normal plants, with roots pointing towards the sky, reminiscent of the intricate roots of a millennia-old tree. Even with an inexhaustible supply of vital qi, for a time, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t locate the origin of these roots.
All he saw were countless tendrils piercing the earth, their tips emerging above ground, drawing the essence of all things. The minuscule portion that protruded above the ground consisted of the grayish-red “bare branches”.
…The same “bare branches” that were intertwined within Yin Ci’s body, granting him immortality.
These bare branches were scattered from north to south, densely piercing the sky, outnumbering the temples by thousands, if not tens of thousands. If Yan Budu’s jade eye could reveal the entire land, all its splendors would likely be obscured by these grayish-red bare branches. Only because common folks could neither see nor touch them had they lived in peace until now.
The ordeal wasn’t over. Suppressing his fear, Shi Jingzhi took another step forward.
Though his original intent was merely to probe the Immortal Assembly, with no second chance at a near-death experience, he had to see everything clearly. Gathering all his strength, almost sacrificing half his life, he recklessly continued his search.
The more he probed, the more absurd and terrifying everything became. In his daze, Shi Jingzhi felt like an insect trying to measure an elephant—this monstrous entity seemed boundless. With his head pounding and on the brink of losing consciousness, he barely managed to discern the “trunk” of this entity.
Like roots hanging upside down with the tips of the roots, this monster’s “trunk” also delved deep into the ground, its shape twisted to the extreme. As for its thickness… If the vast land of Great Yun were divided into ten parts, the thickness of this “trunk” would occupy one or two-tenths.
Below was pure darkness. His mind was nearly boiling, his body nearly fainting, truly unable to see further.
Shi Jingzhi exhausted all his strength but could only perceive a strange corner. His artificially made “shrine root system” was sparse and fragile, merely a shallow layer. In comparison, it was like the tender roots of young rice, hardly worth mentioning.
Shi Jingzhi hovered motionlessly in the darkness, seeing bare branches rising into the sky above, and below, they became increasingly thick and twisted, merging into the unimaginable gigantic entity. With only a vague sense, it suffocated him.
So, this was the case.
No wonder Yin Ci couldn’t use his inner force; his disciple wasn’t a “leak”. As soon as he merged with the roots, Yin Ci’s meridians connected with this “upside-down giant tree”. No matter how profound Yin Ci’s inner force was, no matter how he cultivated in the future, he could never circulate his inner force—how could a pinch of salt make a roaring river salty?
For some unknown reason, Yin Ci connected with the “upside-down giant tree” and obtained its vital qi; thus, he couldn’t die normally.
…So the Imperial Preceptor used Yin Ci’s body as a foundation and created flesh idol temples. They experimented generation after generation, imitating a “small root system” to extract the vital qi.
The Child of Desire of successive generations were nurtured by this small root system.
Unfortunately, the man-made imitation was extremely crude, naturally inferior to this naturally grown monstrous entity. Too much of anything was bad. With the chaotic vital qi, being infused day and night; not only did these Children of Desire not become immortal, but they also had shorter lifespans than ordinary people.
Those ambiguous and mysterious places seem to have answers now.
Why the magic in his blood was incredibly complex, unlike that of ordinary people, and showed traces of artificial modification—it was modified from this monster, naturally intricate and hard to understand.
Why Great Yun experienced the phenomenon of “Heaven’s Displeasure”—the man-made small root system was naturally crude, incapable of such intricate tasks. But with such a vast monstrous entity, even if the “useless” people were drained to death, it was probably possible to reward the robust laborers with a bit of vital qi.
[Minor illnesses or injuries in livestock could be cured immediately. But if the disease is troublesome or the root is hurt, kill and eat it quickly; otherwise, you’ll just waste the feed.]
Who could have predicted that Yan Qing’s casual remark would prove prophetic?
Indeed, something was breeding and controlling them. In a fleeting glimpse, he saw it clearly.
Thinking of this, Shi Jingzhi shuddered.
If this malevolent entity was more straightforward, could it drain a person in a short time? What was summoned by the Invitation to God Formation? …Did the Imperial Preceptors of the past already know about this “giant tree”?
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t help but probe those branches again. In his heart now, they were no longer grotesque monsters but pens of judgment that controlled life and death.
Surprisingly, this time, he perceived something.
Among the countless roots, the “upside-down giant tree” had two roots that were particularly twisted, with a texture quite different from the surrounding roots. They were flesh-colored; one was close to him, undoubtedly connected to Yin Ci. The other extended into the distance, its end invisible.
Who or “what” was connected to that end?
As for the appearance of this “upside-down giant tree”, and what lay in the depths of the darkness, Shi Jingzhi no longer had the strength to sense or imagine.
He was overwhelmed by profound despair.
Previously, Shi Jingzhi thought his opponents were just the Immortal Assembly and, at worst, an elusive “immortal”. Now, he realized his opponent was too massive, too ancient, and too powerful. He hadn’t even figured out how to destroy his “small root system”, let alone face this colossal malevolent entity.
In the grand scheme of things, worldly affairs were child’s play. If Jiang Youyue had known about the “upside-down giant tree” from the start, if the Imperial Preceptors had a way to negotiate with this monstrous entity, then he was merely an ant in the universe. Even with thousands of loves and hates, he couldn’t withstand a flick from the fingers of such powerful beings.
Even if he were as persistent as the old man moving the mountains*, it would take countless generations. Now, with his limited lifespan, he couldn’t even take slow steps towards that goal.
*A well-known fable about the virtues of perseverance and willpower, emphasizing the idea that no obstacle is too large when faced with steadfast effort. You can read the story by going to the Wikipedia.
He couldn’t win.
No matter how he thought, Shi Jingzhi couldn’t find a way out.
…He couldn’t win; he couldn’t think of any solutions.
What could he do facing the current situation in front of him? If he refused the Shirou, he would undoubtedly die. This death wouldn’t be instantaneous. With the Shirou in hand, he would have to endure continuous hesitation and torment before death. If he didn’t refuse the Shirou, his resistance along the way would be nothing but a redundant joke, like drawing legs on a snake.
The most fatal thing was, Shi Jingzhi still didn’t know what would happen after eating the Shirou. Just this unknown hope alone was enough to produce thousands of excuses, igniting all his restless desires.
In his utter despair, a chilling thought pierced through Shi Jingzhi’s heart—
How easy it would be if he also didn’t have a human heart now.
At first, all he did was wholeheartedly strive for survival, thus navigating through the martial arts conference set up by the Immortal Assembly and, after much hardship, obtaining the Shirou. Such simple and interesting matters; he didn’t need to consider any darkness, nor have any doubts. The moment he swallowed the Shirou and before the unknown took place, he might even feel incredibly happy.
Yet, he couldn’t even bring himself to hate Yin Ci. Every time he thought of that man, his full-blown resentment couldn’t hold back, all transforming into bitterness and grievance.
Perhaps, going mad might be easier. Whether it was ending his life or losing his sanity, it was better than facing the torment of despair. Looking at it now, it seemed that the Children of Desire were destined to go down this path—hoping for an impossible ending, and willingly walking down the path of self-destruction.
But he still cherished a bit of warmth in his heart. He hadn’t watched the lanterns with that person, hadn’t tasted enough of the feeling of living with someone without any burdens. He didn’t want to die.
…He had nowhere to go, but he couldn’t stop either.
In this suffocating despair, Shi Jingzhi opened his eyes. His lips were chapped, his throat itched painfully, and he couldn’t speak a word. Seeing the concerned eyes of Yin Ci, before Shi Jingzhi could decide what expression to wear, tears streamed down on their own.
‘How embarrassing,’ he thought.
But he just couldn’t stop those tears. Under the other’s gentle gaze, all the despair and grievances seemed to burst forth. Unable to control his emotions, Shi Jingzhi moved abruptly, desperately hugging Yin Ci, trying to escape from the world for a moment.
Yin Ci seemed to sense his despair and didn’t rush or question him. The man just spoke softly, as if nothing mattered, even if the sky were falling.
His tortured beloved still didn’t know the absurdity hidden behind his “immortality”. Nor did he know the other side of this beautiful world, what kind of bizarre scenery it held.
Shi Jingzhi swallowed, feeling a tearing pain in his throat. He held Yin Ci even tighter and finally uttered a hoarse sentence.
“I’d give up everything, just to leave you alone.”
Ever since Ying Feng discovered Ling Xiao’s embarrassing “secret”, teasing Ling Xiao became one of his few pleasures. Every time Ying Feng wanted to indulge this hobby, he was met with fierce resistance from Ling Xiao.
Unfortunately for Ling Xiao, he was no match for Ying Feng in any aspect. Once his defenses were breached, Ling Xiao’s resistance dwindled to almost nothing. His attempts to push Ying Feng away soon turned into desperately holding onto him.
Being caressed by his Qizhu was an incredibly comforting sensation. It felt like gentle jolts of electricity running through his body. In no time at all, Ling Xiao would roll into Ying Feng’s embrace, making soft groans.
After enjoying the smooth sensation of Ling Xiao’s skin and the gratifying feeling of having a typically strong-willed person cuddling against him, Ying Feng pulled back and said, “Stop wasting time. Today is the entrance exam day for Royal Sky Academy.”
Jolted from his blissful state, Ling Xiao sat up with indignation. Who was wasting time? His lower half was still excited!
It turned out they could have dallied a bit longer. When they arrived at Royal Sky on their high-speed Flying Shark, several academy planes hadn’t arrived yet. It took about ten more minutes for all the candidates to gather.
As expected, the pair from Lion Hope Academy was in the same examination room. The redhead, upon seeing Ling Xiao, exclaimed excitedly, “Wow, you can really stand up? Did you see the Flying Shark parked outside the school gate when you came? It’s so cool!”
Ling Xiao: “…”
The first day of exams were all written tests: social sciences, followed by a combination of biology and chemistry, then astronomy and geography in the afternoon, and history was the last. Having crammed intensively, Ling Xiao found most subjects fairly manageable. As the social sciences test was distributed, his first instinct was to look at the final essay question:
—As times progress and technology advances, is there still a need for the Seventh Law? Please express your views and elaborate in detail.
Ling Xiao was taken aback. The Seventh Law of Tianxiu prohibited the development of any intelligent AI. Established since the start of the new era, it was unique as it carried the founder’s personal endorsement: “Never to be abolished”.
Over recent years, there had been debate over this law. Some scientists believed that after thousands of years of civilization advancement, many planets had progressed significantly thanks to AI, yet their own civilization was held back by this ancient law.
Previously, Ling Xiao would have sided with those advocating for its repeal. But after certain events turned his worldview upside down, he finally grasped the true meaning of the Seventh Law. It wasn’t about being behind; it was about being far ahead. They forbade the creation of intelligent AI because they themselves were robots.
As he pondered the question, Ying Feng’s voice suddenly resounded in his mind, startling him.
Don’t write nonsense.
Ying Feng sat diagonally behind him. Knowing Ying Feng probably saw the last question too, he suspected that Ying Feng specifically warned him out of concern that he might write something careless. However, Ling Xiao couldn’t turn around, nor did he have the ability to communicate back mentally. So, he quickly grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote in big letters, “I know”, followed by several dramatic exclamation marks, hoping Ying Feng would notice.
Only then did Ying Feng retract his mental gaze and start to focus on his own test.
The exam schedule was packed, and soon they were taking the final subject: history. For Ying Feng, the history questions were a breeze. He finished his paper early, pretending to be deep in thought. Then, with a mental shift, he directed his attention over Ling Xiao.
He first observed the two proctors at the scene, who showed no particular reactions. However, he noticed a monitor located diagonally above in the corner of the room subtly rotating to focus on Ling Xiao’s seat, which made Ying Feng tense up momentarily.
But a moment later, the monitor resumed its usual motion, as if the brief redirection was just a coincidence.
Ying Feng relaxed and quickly scanned through Ling Xiao’s exam paper. He was surprised to find that after just over half a month of intense studying, Ling Xiao managed to get answers worth more than sixty points correct. Even without Ying Feng’s help, he could pass.
As Ling Xiao was deeply pondering over a question he had studied but couldn’t recall, he suddenly heard Ying Feng whisper in his ear:
Idiot, how could you get such an easy question as 14 wrong?
Not again! Frustrated, Ling Xiao quickly grabbed a scrap of paper and wrote below the big words “I know”.
Why don’t you use your psychic powers to say something useful for once!
Ying Feng stopped the banter and helped Ling Xiao correct a few mistakes, then filled in the questions that Ling Xiao couldn’t answer. Only after making sure there were no errors did he discreetly withdraw his consciousness.
Through the recent practice, he had gained a more tangible understanding of his mental power and gradually detected the lower limit of his energy, avoiding the previous situation where he ran out of energy halfway through a sentence. After guiding Ling Xiao through the exam, he still had some energy left. As time went by, the consumed mental power would automatically recover.
“Will I get a perfect score? I’ve never scored full marks in history!”
As soon as the papers were handed in, Ling Xiao rushed over to ask.
Ying Feng didn’t want to inflate his ego and simply said, “We’ll see.”
Ling Xiao’s bright smile instantly faded. “You don’t mean you don’t even know the correct answers, do you?”
“Who knows.” Ying Feng turned and walked away.
“Hey! Aren’t you being too irresponsible?” Ling Xiao jogged to catch up.
The two proctors left in the classroom exchanged knowing glances.
“It seems like we have another duo using mental communication to cheat this year.”
“Yeah, it’s been two years since we last had such a pair. Kind of nostalgic.”
“If this were any other department, they’d be disqualified.”
“But who said we are in the Joint Combat Department?” He emphasized the word ‘joint’ especially.
……
The next day, the practical test finally arrived. After announcing that there were three questions in total, the first, unsurprisingly, was about individual combat ability.
The so-called examination ground was a sealed virtual space. Initially empty, it would simulate environments based on the terrains chosen by the examinees. The opponents would also be lifelike creatures of their respective environments.
With many examinees, there were five such virtual spaces. While Ying Feng was analyzing the pros and cons of each terrain, Ling Xiao hastily selected the jungle. Ying Feng didn’t even get a chance to stop him.
“You…”
“What’s wrong? Isn’t this a good choice?” Ling Xiao didn’t overthink; he simply liked the terrain.
The jungle was probably a terrain many would avoid. Numerous obstacles, limited visibility, and opponents within jungles tend to be agile and adept at maneuver warfare, making it challenging to gain the upper hand.
Once chosen, the terrain couldn’t be changed. Ying Feng had no choice but to accept this fact. Soon, everyone’s choices were revealed. Most students opted for the desert, which had a broad field of view and almost no obstacles. Bing Can and his partner chose the tundra. The number of students who chose the jungle wasn’t the lowest; there was a pair that chose the swamp, suggesting that it might be the least favored terrain.
Most examinees were at an awkward stage where they had just reached adulthood but weren’t fully matured. Opponents one level below posed no challenge, while those a level above were overly challenging.
Considering this, the opponents for the Qizhu and the Qizi were set at SS and S levels respectively. There was no need to defeat the opponent completely. Surviving for 15 minutes was considered passing.
Ling Xiao’s turn came up quickly. A few sharp-eyed students recognized him.
“Isn’t he the student who came in a wheelchair on the open day?”
“The one who was targeted as the weakest link and was nearly toppled by a monster?”
“Right! He’s allowed to take the exam?”
Ling Xiao, already in the examination space, couldn’t hear these comments, but Ying Feng outside did. Bing Can, suppressing his laughter, comforted Ying Feng. “Don’t mind them. But I’m also looking forward to seeing how Ling Xiao will surprise us.”
Ying Feng, being the only one who truly knew Ling Xiao’s strength, didn’t need the comfort. After watching the performances of the previous examinees, none of whom could decisively beat their opponents, he had full confidence in Ling Xiao.
Plus, the jungle terrain was where Ling Xiao excelled—it was like letting a monkey return to the mountains.
As expected, when the test began, Ling Xiao reset everyone’s expectations. The audience watched in awe as this seemingly feeble young man nimbly leaped from branch to branch, leaving the pursuing primate beast unable to even touch the hem of his clothing. It almost seemed as if Ling Xiao was the true master of this domain.
The primate beast, in terms of strength, defense, and health, was average among creatures of its level. However, its agility was unparalleled, and it had two incredibly powerful skills.
Sure enough, the primate beast, unable to catch up with Ling Xiao, used its signature ability—teleportation. The beast, which had been right behind Ling Xiao, suddenly disappeared, only to appear in front of him a second later, extending its claw to scratch. Given Ling Xiao’s fast-forward speed, this attack seemed inevitable.
A gasp arose from the audience. At that moment, Ling Xiao suddenly dove diagonally downward. The onlookers couldn’t even spot his anchor point before he dropped more than a meter, effortlessly dodging the attack. But it didn’t end there. As Ling Xiao was falling, he suddenly soared upward, releasing something from his hand—a vine that he used to control his flight altitude.
Mid-air, Ling Xiao ruthlessly kicked the primate beast into a tree, followed by a series of attacks. His strategy was clear and correct: to find a weak point against agile creatures and relentlessly attack it.
Before the beast could recover, it desperately teleported again. Everyone clearly saw Ling Xiao punching the air, missing the beast, which had teleported behind him. Just as everyone thought he couldn’t dodge this time, Ling Xiao once again amazed the audience.
Mid-air, without any external aid, he performed a backflip, both feet landing successively on the beast’s head. His extraordinary ability to stay in the air and his mid-air reactions made people wonder if he had wings.
The beast, which was kicked to the ground, saw its health drop below 10%, activating its berserk mode—its second formidable skill—which dramatically increased its agility, causing massive damage upon contact. At this stage, no opponent dared face it head-on unless they had a ranged attack; the only strategy was to flee. Ling Xiao and the beast embarked on a one-on-one chase in the dense jungle, the berserk primate beast now even faster than the Mushroom Guardian they encountered by the lake days before. But Ying Feng wasn’t worried; after all, that day Ling Xiao had used only one hand to flee. Now with both hands free, it seemed nothing in nature could catch him.
What followed was a spectacular chase. Unlike usual chases where the protagonist was the pursuer, the highlight now was seeing the protagonist escape. Countless times, Ling Xiao narrowly avoided being hurt by the beast. His mid-air turns, stops, and sprints were so swift and confusing that while the Qizhus could keep up, their Qizis simply enjoyed it as if watching a fantasy movie.
After a full two minutes of berserk mode, the beast hadn’t even touched Ling Xiao. Just as the berserk mode ended, while they were both still mid-air, Ling Xiao suddenly disappeared, and before anyone could react, a shadow appeared behind the primate beast.
“Teleportation!” someone exclaimed. “How could he have teleportation like the primate beast?!”
“He didn’t use teleportation.” Ling Xiao’s move was so fast that even many Qizhus couldn’t see it clearly. But with so many experts present, some were able to catch it. “He used the force from two trees in succession to spring behind the primate beast. Because of his incredible speed, it looked as if it happened in an instant.”
Everyone nodded in realization. Ling Xiao, who had reappeared behind the primate beast, delivered a fatal blow. The poor creature was sent rolling countless times until it crashed into the simulation arena’s glass barrier.
“Buzz—” The green light came on, and the time stopped at 12’36”54. The first person to defeat his opponent within the set time today was someone who, just two weeks ago, was immobilized. After a momentary silence, the venue erupted in applause.
Even the instructors in the examiners’ area couldn’t help but clap. “It seems we underestimated them that day. With their capabilities, they’ll definitely get into our department.”
“Yes,” another instructor agreed. “So agile yet reluctant to walk, it’s not weakness but laziness. We need to motivate them more.”
“So impressive!” Red Head, upon seeing Ling Xiao, was so excited he wanted to hug him but was pushed aside. The one who pushed him, without looking back, walked into the competition field.
“Is your Qizhu always so cool?” Red Head concluded.
Ling Xiao wiped his sweat and joined Red Head, awaiting Ying Feng’s match. After his astonishing performance, everyone was curious: who was this person who defeated Ling Xiao in the coming-of-age ceremony?
As Ying Feng walked into the arena, he had already discreetly concentrated his mental energy into the palm of his right hand. He was different from Ling Xiao; the jungle wasn’t his advantage. Therefore, this battle had to be quick.
During his mental training, Ying Feng vaguely grasped a method to transform his mental energy into attack power. He had never tried it before, so this match was a gamble.
He focused intently, gathering his energy. Directly in front of him, his opponent appeared: a massive bear. This kind of bear, in terms of both attack and defense, was terrifying, even ranking within the top ten of SS-level creatures.
The bear roared and charged towards Ying Feng at a speed that seemed incongruous with its heavy body. Yet, Ying Feng stood still, showing no intent to dodge.
“What is he doing? He’s going to be blown away!” someone exclaimed in anxiety. Even the instructors felt something was amiss. The charging force of this kind of bear was exceptionally strong. Taking it head-on would undoubtedly result in severe injuries.
“Why are you just standing there? Run!” This time, it was Red Head who couldn’t contain himself and shouted. But by the time he finished speaking, the bear was already right in front of Ying Feng.
In that split second, Ying Feng suddenly leaped straight up, nimbly flipping over the black bear. As he descended, his right hand was placed on top of the bear’s head, followed by a forceful thrust.
No one could clearly see what exactly happened on the field. All they saw was the bear shuddering before collapsing limply to the ground. A green light illuminated the arena, indicating the end of the match.
If things went as expected, the current President Sarah and Mayor Ryan were likely the same person.
However, it was improbable that Ryan had been disguising himself for over a decade; hence, Zhou Qian suspected that the real Sarah could be someone else. It was likely that Ryan assumed her role after a certain incident.
Despite Ryan potentially being adept at cross-dressing, this wasn’t plastic surgery. To impersonate flawlessly among numerous witches, he and Sarah must have had some resemblances. In addition, Ryan must deeply understand Sarah’s habits and tones to mimic her without any flaws. Upon synthesizing all these factors, there was a high probability that they were relatives, possibly siblings.
Therefore, Zhou Qian tentatively asked whether Ryan had any sisters. The relationship between Ryan and Sarah, who represented seemingly conflicting camps in this instance, must be crucial. As expected, not only did Zhou Qian perceive from Ryan’s expressions that he indeed had a sister or sisters, but he also unexpectedly triggered a side plot.
It seemed that uncovering the relationship between Ryan and Sarah was indeed a pivotal step in resolving the situation.
At this moment, the thick clouds in the afternoon sky blocked the sunlight, making the air absolutely uninhabitable for ordinary people.
Zhou Qian’s group was forced to travel in a commercial vehicle through a forest of bizarrely shaped trees to reach this secluded mountain top. Behind the high wall lay the town’s and Ryan’s deepest secrets.
Before him, Ryan’s emerald green eyes were as profound as a lake yet also as blazing as the sunlight.
Hearing Zhou Qian’s words, Ryan narrowed his eyes, then lowered his golden eyelashes towards Zhou Qian’s hand holding his. He looked up and said, “My sister’s lover… Why haven’t I heard of you? You must be mistaken.”
“Is that so? Alright, let’s assume I was mistaken. However—” Zhou Qian smiled, whispering into his ear, “You are so handsome; your sister must be a beauty. Since I am going to stay in this town, why not introduce me to your sister? We might become relatives. Didn’t you say that I am a gift from God?”
While asking, Zhou Qian wondered—is his sister dead?
According to Zhou Qian’s current speculation, Sarah was Ryan’s sister. For some reason, their relationship wasn’t known to the rest of the town. Subsequently, an explosion occurred on Weir Mountain, and the radioactive dust infected many children. Ryan went to his sister, hoping she would help him conceal everything.
Agreeing to this request would mean harming the lives of many innocent people. Sarah, of course, refused.
Therefore, it was very likely that Ryan might have killed his own sister and then assumed her place.
“Of course, I can introduce you,” Ryan replied with a deep look while holding Zhou Qian’s hand tighter. “Wait until you come out. My sister will welcome you then. But for now, let’s not waste any more time.”
“My gift, please enter this enclosure. You will receive the reward I’ve prepared.”
“Oh yes, there are three ‘Evil Spirit Purging Stations’ inside. If you feel uncomfortable, rest there. I will come to find you guys after a while. Please listen to the broadcast.”
Three minutes later, all seven players entered the high walls. The gate closed silently, and the walls merged seamlessly with the environment.
Zhou Qian walked forward to touch the barrier where the wall had been, feeling an invisible shield. This was probably why the witches have never truly approached the truth—the wall was made of a highly advanced invisible material.
Turning back, Zhou Qian looked ahead—before him was a vast forest of mutated trees and peculiar flowers and grasses. Occasionally, strange creatures resembling long-legged butterflies would momentarily reveal themselves before vanishing.
What monsters might be hiding inside this forest were still unknown.
At this moment, everyone’s mood was rather somber.
Li Buhui was the first to ask, “What should we do now… Should we go in and explore first?”
Ke Yuxiao’s serious voice immediately rang out. “After entering here, our life points are rapidly decreasing.”
Wu Ren’s face had almost turned ashen. He said, “I only have 1 point left. But looking at the speed of this countdown… I can only live for less than 20 minutes.” After saying this, he looked at Zhou Qian.
Zhou Qian looked back at him and asked gravely, “Do you trust me?”
Even though Zhou Qian asked this, he actually knew that Wu Ren’s attitude had changed significantly compared to the beginning. Back when they were in Lily’s study, Wu Ren didn’t have much time left, having drawn only “2” points.
At that time, he had strong murderous intent toward Zhou Qian. But now it was different. He had truly sided with Zhou Qian.
Firstly, Zhou Qian gave him a “6” point card, which had sustained him until now. Secondly, during their first visit to Weir Mountain, if not for Zhou Qian, Wu Ren might have been taken away by the witches.
At this moment, Wu Ren clenched and then released his fists. His small eyes looked tired and lifeless, but there was no murderous intent or doubt within them. “Of course I trust you.”
“Good. Then everyone listens to me now.” Zhou Qian nodded. “The so-called ‘Evil Spirit Cleansing Station’ might be able to replenish our life points. Let’s find it first. Wu Ren, you are still our ‘king’. We will all help you.”
“We will split into three teams and search in three directions.” Zhou Qian turned towards the peculiar forest and continued, “Based on your previous conflicts, Li Buhui and Yin Jiujiu will be in one group, Wu Ren and Situ Qing in another, and I will be with the remaining Sword and Flute duo.”
“I want to remind you all, everyone’s life value will decrease rapidly. The primary task now is to find a place that can replenish life points. Attempting to settle personal scores at this time would undoubtedly be foolish.”
Having said that, Zhou Qian looked forward. “My group will go in the middle. The other two groups will go in the left and right directions. Everyone can contact each other through the system at any time and inform others promptly after finding the target.”
Zhou Qian knew that even though he had reminded everyone to prioritize finding the target station, Yin Jiujiu, who joined this game solely for revenge, would most likely not miss such an excellent opportunity to kill teammates.
Additionally, Zhou Qian had another concern regarding whether the Peach Legion Army really hadn’t done anything.
Given these concerns and the potential dangers in this unknown domain, it was best for everyone to stick together.
However, Wu Ren really didn’t have much time left. Without his strong output at the forefront, not only would the team be extremely unstable internally, but the danger everyone faced when needing to attack NPCs would also increase. Zhou Qian, helping Wu Ren, was essentially helping himself.
Zhou Qian made such a three-way split arrangement in an attempt to prevent internal conflict as much as possible. His first priority was to prevent Yin Jiujiu from attacking Situ Qing, so he separated them.
Wu Ren, although lacking in life points, still had his attack power, so pairing him with Situ Qing was relatively safe for both. Also, by placing himself in the middle, Zhou Qian could relatively reduce the chance of Yin Jiujiu and Situ Qing running into each other.
After saying all this, Zhou Qian observed everyone, seemingly watching their reactions. At this moment, everyone received a message from the system.
[Players trigger main task 1: Explore thoroughly, survive, and uncover the secret that Ryan has hidden here.]
[Task 2: Mayor Ryan is very fond of the number “24”. When the players’ life points total “24”, the experiment ends, and he will come to take everyone away.]
[Hint 1: There are three “Evil Spirit Purification Stations” where life points can be replenished.]
[Hint 2: Some areas are densely infested with “evil spirits”, and the rate of reduction of life points will accelerate; please enter with caution. Some areas have tools that are dropped that can clear “evil spirits”. Using them can also increase life points.]
The system’s hints were undoubtedly aligned with Zhou Qian’s previous speculation.
So, temporarily, no one raised any objections. At least on the surface, it seemed like everyone agreed with Zhou Qian’s suggestion—to prioritize finding the “Evil Spirit Cleansing Station” first. So, they quickly split into three teams and proceeded in three different directions.
The high walls encircle a summit area.
The players were located to the north. Zhou Qian’s group was heading south, while Yin Jiujiu and Li Buhui were heading west.
Upon entering the forest, the light dims considerably. Yin Jiujiu held the card with life points in her hand, and after observing that the countdown speed didn’t continue to accelerate, she moved forward.
Li Buhui, also known as Zhu Qiang, scurried ahead of her and said awkwardly, “Let me go ahead. Just in case these mutant plants and animals attack us!”
Yin Jiujiu didn’t comment and just looked around.
She had always been fearless, but everything she saw still made her frown.
It was simply because everything was too bizarre, like an animal corpse she just stepped over, which surprisingly has the body of a fish and wings of a bird.
However, to Yin Jiujiu’s and Li Buhui’s surprise, their group’s progress was extremely smooth, and within five minutes they saw a bungalow.
Approaching the bungalow, they saw it boldly marked “Evil Spirit Purification Station”.
Li Buhui and Yin Jiujiu looked at each other, both gripping their weapons, and cautiously opened the door.
But there was nothing inside that could attack them. Upon entering, they both felt their breathing become smoother.
Checking the card in hand, Yin Jiujiu discovered the countdown had changed significantly.
Originally, the countdown was reduced from [59:59] by an hour unit, but now the value not only reset but began to rise from [00:00], and very quickly at that.
It almost felt like charging oneself. Once it was fully charged by an hour unit, the player’s points would increase by one.
Li Buhui and Yin Jiujiu both let out a sigh of relief.
Then Li Buhui asked, “Do we… need to tell everyone about this?”
Yin Jiujiu pondered for a while but shook her head.
She scanned the room and walked to a spot.
There was a control desk with a red button marked “Destroy”, and a note beneath—“Press the button to destroy the current ‘Evil Spirit Purification Station’”.
Li Buhui seemed to sense something. He swallowed and asked Yin Jiujiu, “You want to…”
Yin Jiujiu pulled out two pairs of shoes from her bag.
[Item: Thousand Mile A Day* Shoes]
*(日行千里) Idiom from the Book of Wei Tuyuhun Biography. It refers to running a thousand miles in a day, describing traveling at an extremely fast speed. Note: The mile is a Chinese mile (li), which is about 1/3 of an English mile.
[Effect: Experience the feeling of flying; take off, I want to take off, I can’t stop at all]
[Grade: B]
Yin Jiujiu said, “Zhou Qian intentionally separated me and Situ Qing. But I won’t let her go. I have no intention of harming Wu Ren. After finding them, I will tell him the coordinates here alone. But the premise is that he cannot protect Situ Qing by listening to Zhou Qian. This is a deal. To make him have to agree, we have to leave him with no other choices.”
Looking at Li Bu Hui, she continued, “Put on these shoes. Let’s go the way Situ Qing and the others went and destroy the station there first. If necessary, also destroy the station where Zhou Qian and the others are. In this way… Everyone can only beg me.”
……
On the other side.
Zhou Qian, Qi Liuxing, and Ke Yuxiao were taking the route straight south.
About three minutes out, Zhou Qian heard a faint female voice. “Help. Help me.”
The delightful fairy game had come to an end. He knew that Piel couldn’t escape. It was a foregone conclusion.
In this city, people die unnaturally every day. In front of Death, this little boy had no special place—they shouldn’t bother about it.
They specifically went back in time, looking for clues about the Eclipse Shield; not to play god.
[I guess you never thought of saving him. How do you know he ‘can’t be save’?] Nol asked.
‘As sharp as ever,’ Teest thought.
[Because I know he’s dead,] he replied cruelly. [The kid was turned into a Supplement Demon. He died the day the church burned down. I remember those eyes.]
This time, his Lich husband was unusually steady. [So he will be taken to that Immortal Church.]
[Indeed.]
[That means we can sneak in with Piel.] Nol sat on the boy’s shoulder, speaking calmly. [I happen to be curious about the ‘Supplement Demon’. It won’t hinder our main mission, will it?]
It seemed like it wouldn’t hinder—if they were in their adult forms, it would have been more difficult. But now, the two of them could only eat two thick slices of ham in a day and easily pass through cage bars. Whether they go in with Piel or mingle with the ordinary Eternalist in the church, strictly speaking, there wasn’t much difference.
[So you want to meddle in this,] Teest concluded.
Nol: [Don’t you find this so-called ‘destiny’ annoying? I’m a bit displeased and want to mess with it.]
‘Forget it,’ Teest thought.
No one could fool time. It wasn’t a rule set by the gods, but the most basic law of nature. The Mad Monk wanted to know the truth about the world, limited only to the part about “God”. He didn’t want to become the first physicist in Tahe.
Nol looked at him. […And with the Supplement Demon, I can see your past self sooner.]
[Alright, we’ll follow this boy inside,] Teest affirmed seriously.
The drama he carefully prepared would always begin. It didn’t matter which entrance they took.
Teest pulled at Piel’s hair tips, looking at the tiny Nol on the other shoulder.
Nol adjusted his mini hood, seemingly lost in thought. He looked unusually calm without the succubi around him, like a blade tempered over and over again.
This was close to what Teest had guessed. Nol had grown fast through trials and tribulations. Maybe soon he wouldn’t need a mad partner to lean on emotionally.
‘That won’t do,’ he thought with a smile.
……
Clang!
The iron door, inscribed with runes, closed heavily in front of Piel. The little boy huddled in the corner, still holding a small bite of precious butter in his mouth to calm his nerves.
His body had been cleaned multiple times with a cleansing spell, leaving him in a white robe that barely covered him. He had been blindfolded and brought here, only to find himself in a tiny cell of just four square meters when he opened his eyes.
The cell was about three meters high, with one wall made entirely of massive stones so closely packed that not even an ant could crawl through. At the top of the wall floated a palm-sized ball of light—the only source of illumination. It was so dim that normal people could hardly see anything.
Fortunately, among the three people in the cell, two had dark vision and one had the Eye of Truth, so the darkness wasn’t much of an obstacle—
The air was thick with the scent of blood. In the darkness, there were occasional strange moans that didn’t sound human and the soft noises of flesh rubbing against stone.
Nearby, they could see cages not far from them. The creatures in the cages twisted and writhed, making sticky sounds, their shadows bearing no resemblance to humans. Their strange noises echoed in the vast darkness, making it feel as if they were at the bottom of the deep sea, each breath carrying a damp, oppressive weight.
The straw beneath Piel was surprisingly fresh and dry, but the floor underneath emitted a rotten, fishy smell, as if it had once held decaying bodies.
Piel was so frightened that he hardly dared to breathe, fearing that the noise would attract the monsters’ attention.
Thankfully, he had heeded Mr. Fairy’s advice.
Not long ago, when he realized he was surrounded by several adults, Piel panicked. He had intended to kick and bite in despair but was stopped by Nol’s voice.
“You might not be able to escape today,” the beautiful black-haired fairy said. “I suggest you conserve your energy. We’ll think of something else.”
Now Piel understood that those people were indeed the cultists of the Eternal Church. In this world where magic existed, those devils wouldn’t hesitate to break his limbs to make him obedient. If he were thrown into a place like this with broken limbs, he would surely die of fright.
For now, he was alright—it was just a bit dark around him. He had something to eat, he wasn’t injured, and he had the mysterious fairy friends by his side.
He would get through this, Piel thought.
On his shoulder, Nol was still observing the surroundings. Nol now understood Teest’s warning. This Immortal Church was truly hard to infiltrate, even stricter than airport security.
The Eternalists discarded all of Piel’s belongings and repeatedly scanned him for magical fluctuations, ensuring he hadn’t hidden any magical items. But once they were sure Piel had no trace of magic on him, they didn’t check his mouth or body thoroughly, so Piel managed to take a big bite of butter.
“They like it when you hide something on you.” As Piel carefully tasted the butter, Teest casually remarked. “Food is fine. It’ll disappear on its own. But if it’s your treasure, they relish seeing your reaction when you lose it—living here, you’ll lose everything eventually.”
Piel paused, almost biting his tongue.
Unable to hold back, Nol climbed onto Teest’s shoulder and pulled on his face. “Thanks for the encouragement. It’s really helpful.”
“I’m just stating facts,” Teest replied nonchalantly, letting Nol fiddle with him. “Can we act now?”
“Where are you going?” Before Nol could answer, Piel interjected.
In the darkness, the boy quickly swallowed his butter, shivering uncontrollably. “Don’t leave me alone!”
“It’s 1:30 in the afternoon. They won’t come until around seven in the evening,” Teest said indifferently, “At worst, we can return early—”
“Then let’s go together.” Nol gently proposed, extending a hand towards Piel.
Teest’s lips drooped in annoyance. [Honey, we don’t need a child in our family.]
[I want to know if “destiny” has any loopholes.] Nol shrugged. [Besides, as you said, the cultists won’t come until around seven.]
Destiny menacingly warned him that Piel had to be taken by the Eternal Church. But what about after that? Did Piel necessarily have to stay there and suffer? Were there any loopholes… Could fate be overturned?
Nol was curious about so many things. Before resisting, one must know both oneself and one’s adversary, right?
Even if they failed… Even if they failed, he wanted to make the boy’s remaining time a bit better.
Across from him, after pondering for a few seconds, Teest finally nodded in agreement.
Unlocking doors, eliminating traces, hiding their tracks… Nol was surprised to find that he had become incredibly adept at these stealthy actions. Piel was covered in an invisibility spell, walking barefoot in the darkness.
Now they could clearly see the layout of the place.
It was an incredibly vast space, uncertain if it was above or below ground. Countless cages were stacked like dense pillars, reaching from floor to ceiling, leaving only a narrow passage a bit more than a meter wide.
Most cages contained dark figures.
Dozens of pupils inside the cages emitted a faint glow, with slimy tentacles hanging through the gaps. Pale, baby-like hands with arms that were twisted in multiple places reached out.
The Supplement Demons of the Eternal Church.
These creatures were much quieter than Nol had imagined, resembling neglected animals in a poorly managed zoo. But with their terrifying, stiff limbs, they also resembled plants.
Countless deformed eyes watched them silently, showing almost no emotion.
The stench of rotting flesh, the foul odor of excrement, the strange fishy scent of mucus… all these odors mixed together, making Piel almost vomit.
“Will I turn into one of these?”
He looked at the similar cages, vaguely guessing something, and started shivering again. “Will I… become such a monster…”
“I doubt it.” Teest breezily diverted the topic. “Keep moving. I still remember where the exit is.”
Nol looked at the cage closest to them. In the corner of the cage lay a deformed girl. Her body was entirely twisted. Her back faced upwards, and her limbs bent in four different directions, making her appear like a comical four-legged table, or perhaps a spider with only four legs.
Her misshapen head emerged from the center of her spine, and her mismatched eyes gazed out sadly. Those eyes had only pure black pupils, with no whites to be seen.
“Uh… ah…” She let out a deep and hoarse moan.
A few meters out, there were monsters. A dozen meters out, more monsters. An unknown number of meters out, there were mountains of monsters.
This damn place was like a maze made of flesh and iron cages. Even with the company of two “fairies”, Little Piel’s breathing grew more rapid, and his steps quickened—
Suddenly, Piel stopped in his tracks.
Nol also saw what made him stop… No, to be precise, it was someone.
A boy, who looked no older than fourteen or fifteen. Amidst the overwhelming, gloomy flesh around him, the boy seemed almost like a dream.
The boy’s skin was smooth and clean, without any dirt or scars. His snow-white hair was neatly arranged, hanging down to his collarbone. His eyes were closed, and he wore a gentle smile. His features were delicate, and his slender frame made it hard to determine his gender at first glance.
The inside of the cage was spotless, with a heavy white stone placed in the center. The boy wore a white robe, sat with his legs together, and his hands folded atop his thighs. He sat still, in a remarkably well-behaved posture.
He resembled a marble statue displayed in the cage, entirely out of place in this eerie and sticky atmosphere.
Upon a clear view, Nol instinctively held his breath.
…Teest.
The Mad Monk was always flamboyant in his insanity. When Nol saw this place, he imagined countless bloody possibilities, but he never imagined such a bizarre situation.
The face still had traces of youth, and the body hadn’t yet fully grown. But Nol knew it was Teest. It was undoubtedly Teest. Time seemed to rewind twelve years. Teest’s appearance remained striking, and the distortions he brought were equally… memorable.
In such a terrifying place, no one would be naive enough to simply admire. The young Teest looked all the more perfect, making the atmosphere feel even more eerie and out of place.
“Who’s there?” The young Teest asked softly, opening his eyes to reveal a pair of brilliant golden irises. He stared directly in the direction of the trio, but his pupils lacked focus.
[See, this isn’t a place suitable for adolescents to grow up. Those wicked cultists didn’t care about nutritious lunches.] The adult Teest moved next to Nol, looking critically at his younger self, speaking with a hint of regret. [I was so weak back then, haa.]
Nol stared at the boy in the cage, unsure of what to say.
“Who’s there? Hello?” The darkness remained silent. The young Teest asked again, his tone devoid of any tension or fear.
His clear voice echoed between the cages, and the deformity slowly faded away.
After a moment of hesitation, Piel chose to cover his mouth, deliberately breathing softly. Nol noticed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. It was said that children were sensitive, and it seemed this child wasn’t fooled by the young Teest’s appearance.
“…Let’s not reply for now,” Nol whispered hoarsely.
Little Piel nodded and carefully moved towards the exit.
“So cold-hearted.” The young Teest seemed to hear them and turned his head towards their direction, his voice incredibly soft. “Don’t you want to be friends with me?”
“Let’s be friends.” He pleaded with those golden eyes, almost coyly.
Little Piel shivered, walking even faster. Nol glanced over his shoulder to see the young Teest once again close his eyes, resuming his original posture.
From here, one could see the entire city. Ironically, this city remained oblivious to the towering church that stood among them—the Eternal Church, like the shadow of everything, was shielded by countless dark magic and illusions. Day after day, the people of Grape Collar walked right past it, completely unaware of the grand dark cathedral beside them.
“It’s like this, meeting you is not easy.” Crimson withdrew his gaze from the window, his tone absentminded. “I need to see the records of your Chosen Ones, Mr. Bonds.”
Priest Bonds of Grape Collar’s Immortal Church was said to be very powerful, but he eventually died in the cathedral fire.
In a few days, this guy would be dead—a fact that Crimson occasionally had similar thoughts when selecting targets, which always brought him a pleasing sense of superiority.
Opposite him sat Priest Bonds, a somber-faced middle-aged man. Bonds’s long black hair was braided into several plaits, hanging down his back, emitting the scent of myrrh and resin. His skin had a strange bluish-purple tint, and beneath his thick black eyebrows, his black eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s.
“May everything be eternal.” Bonds made a circle on his chest, his voice deep and resonant. “I’ve seen all the credentials you’ve provided. I provisionally accept your identity. You can stay in this cathedral.”
“I’ll review the records and leave.” Crimson slowed down his speech and made an exaggerated walking motion. “Since you recognize my identity, what are you waiting for?”
Bonds glared at Crimson with his piercing black eyes.
“Personally, I don’t approve of your reason.”
His voice was especially hoarse.
“You came back from the future to check the records of the Chosen Ones? This means either this record was lost by some idiot, or this cathedral was utterly destroyed… or you’re lying and you want something else.”
From Mr. Bonds’ tone, he seemed not to consider the first two possibilities.
…How frustrating!
“Alright, since you put it that way.” Crimson sat down, throwing his leg onto the table. “I can’t go into details, but in general… some idiot messed up with the selection of the Chosen One, so I had to verify it in this era.”
“Polygraphs, contracts, scanning my brain, whatever. I don’t want to clean up your mess anymore. Who knew just looking at a few lines could be so troublesome.”
“The prophecies of the Chosen Ones contain their fates. They are divine oracles, not just ‘a few lines’.” Bonds glared at him for a while. “We have many people to meet soon. The High Priest isn’t in the cathedral. If you truly serve the great Anstis, you should know the rules.”
“Yeah, yeah, the big boss isn’t around, so the little guys need to be extra cautious. Alright, get to the point. What do I need to do to see it?”
Bonds looked down.
“That boy was brought here by my mentor. He has all the qualifications of a Chosen One, and his training has been going very smoothly. He is undoubtedly blessed by God and is destined to become what God expects.” His tone was solemn, with a hint of fanaticism. “If you want to prove we’re wrong, it’s simple… Just kill him. Before the prophecy is fulfilled, the Chosen Ones will not die.”
‘Oh, that’s easy,’ Crimson thought.
According to the records of the Eternal Church, all the Supplement Demons under the cathedral were wiped out. There were strict records for these demons, and people had verified the number of bodies.
If there was an imposter, his days would be numbered anyway. Killing him prematurely wouldn’t interfere with fate. If he was the real deal—ding ding ding—mission accomplished early! At least he would know what the Chosen One looked like.
But when Crimson actually stood before his target, he was rendered completely silent.
“Hello, sir.”
On a white stone, a beautiful young boy greeted with a smile. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
The young boy’s posture was even more obedient than the most obedient student. In this darkness, he seemed to glow slightly.
However, Crimson stood still, drenched in sweat.
Not long ago, Crimson had recklessly attempted to attack an “unassailable” target. If then, his horror was a “gaze from fate”, at this very moment, the instant he harbored an intent to kill, fate pierced his heart, and the world almost crushed him.
Crimson instinctively took a half-step back.
…What exactly was he facing?
The author has something to say:
Here he is!!! The past Teest makes his appearance~
Crimson, wearing a hood, strolled down Cork Street. He had always liked crowded places like this. These ordinary people, like a flock of sheep, were great at hiding him.
The lingering taste of the “Time Reversion” potion still clung to his tongue that not even a strong drink could wash it away.
The Eternal Priest said it was a special edition, and he didn’t know if the regular version was just as bad. According to the old man, the special edition helped him maintain his “original form”, making it a rare item within the Eternal Church.
He just needed to go back to the Immortal Church before it was burned down and check the records for the prophecy of the “Chosen One”. He could choose the time, so Crimson deliberately chose the week before the church’s destruction.
Honestly, how could he miss out on such a big spectacle?
It was said that the burning of this church remains an unsolved mystery. Crimson couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t someone from the higher-ups just drink the “Time Reversion” and take a look? Who knows what those heretics were thinking.
Crimson stopped at a pastry stall and casually threw down some large coins.
The baked pastries had a crisp crust and were generously filled with lean pork and chopped onions, perfect for eating on the go. As he got the hot pastry, Crimson leisurely turned around. Before he could stabilize himself, a dirty child bumped into him. With a soft sound, Crimson’s pastry fell onto the muddy ground.
…Damn little bastard.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, sir. It’s all my fault.”
The frail boy bent over apologizing repeatedly, his voice mixed with an obvious nervousness. “I wasn’t watching where I was going, sir…”
As the boy apologized, he curled up like a scared mouse. He bent so much that his head almost touched the floor. It was hard to say if he was expressing remorse or bracing for a beating.
‘Perhaps I should kill this insignificant beggar and use it to divine today’s weather,’ Crimson thought, adjusting his askew hood.
In that moment, he suddenly felt a sense of weightlessness, as if he had plunged into an icy abyss on a frozen river. The air around him grew cold and heavy, compressing against him. Crimson couldn’t move, struggling even to breathe.
Is this it?
Is this the so-called “untouchable target”?
Crimson lowered his head to get a better look at the boy’s face, but the child had vanished, as had the pastry that had fallen.
Well, eating was still the most important. Shrugging, Crimson ordered another one.
“It worked!” Piel held up his pastry, happily exclaiming. “He didn’t hit me.”
“Good job.” On his left shoulder, the Mad Monk approved.
“I could have suggested other ways…” Nol whispered from his right shoulder.
However, Piel didn’t really hear Nol’s murmurs. They couldn’t accompany him for long, so it was better not to interfere recklessly.
“Stay safe,” was all Nol could finally advise, even though he felt it was cliché.
“Don’t worry, I’ve never seen that man around here… He looks rich. These types don’t like to make a scene. He wouldn’t act out of line,” Piel whispered as he nestled into the alley, taking a careful bite of the hot pastry.
In less than a minute, the pastry was in Piel’s stomach. After savoring every last bit, Piel asked, “Mr. Fairies, can we call it a day with sweet cheese?”
Teest replied, “Yes, your reward is a piece of sweet cheese.”
As he spoke, Teest leisurely sucked on pomegranate seeds. The Mad Monk didn’t have much food in his bag and wasn’t inclined to share. Fortunately, this offer was generous enough.
Given Nol’s understanding of Teest, this was already the utmost kindness the Mad Monk could offer.
“Sweet cheese!” Piel’s face lit up. “I’ll take you all over the market! Are you looking for medicinal herbs for wounds? I know the shop mercenaries frequent the most.”
He firmly believed Teest’s story about “fairy wings being plucked off” and was concerned about their non-existent injuries.
Unfortunately, Piel’s good luck seemed to have run out.
The crowd was bustling, and Little Piel moved through it like a mouse. The pastry had filled his stomach, making him a bit sluggish. As he hurriedly crossed a narrow path, he stepped on the edge of a somewhat clean boot.
“I’m sor—” The boy reflexively stopped to apologize.
The moment Nol sensed malice, Little Piel flew out like a leaf.
His abdomen was brutally kicked, and his back slammed into the wall. Stone debris clattered to the ground. The slender body slid down the wall, violently twitching. Little Piel seemed like he wanted to vomit but forcibly held back. Apparently, he wasn’t willing to throw up the pastry he had just eaten.
I want to heal this child.
Nol glared at the mercenary who had kicked the boy, thinking seriously, ‘I want to stop this atrocity.’
This time, he didn’t feel the terror of looking down from the edge of the abyss.
It seemed that this minor incident was inconsequential in the grand scheme of things—the difference probably lay in Little Piel’s level of pain, a detail fate seemed to not care about.
Nol quickly placed his hands on Piel’s body, quietly casting a healing spell. As the magic flowed into him, Piel’s tense body soon relaxed, but he still lay against the wall, motionless.
“Smart kid.” Teest, having finished eating the pomegranate seed, commented in amusement. “Playing dead is right. Those who bully the weak love tormenting those who resist.”
Nol, on the other hand, glared fiercely at the approaching mercenary—it was hard to say whether the man was muscular or fat. His head was pockmarked, looking like a potato sack with a big beard.
‘I want to beat him up,’ Nol thought. Again, there was no warning from fate. This man’s destiny seemed as inconsequential as his appearance.
“Is he dead?” The mercenary kicked Piel with the tip of his boot, while Nol raised his staff—
Clang!
Someone “coincidentally” walked in front of Piel, taking the mercenary’s kick to the shin. The issue was, this person happened to be a knight—he was elegantly built, his entire body encased in bone-like, silvery white armor with not an inch of skin visible.
Nol hadn’t seen such armor before, but he felt an obvious oppressive aura from it, and he was sure it was of high value.
The white knight, having been kicked, halted. He stood with his back to Piel, turned to face the fat mercenary, and just stood there silently.
“Sir, I apologize.” The fat mercenary swallowed hard. “I was just trying to teach that street rat a lesson. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
The knight remained silent. Standing there, he looked like a breathing statue.
Nol noticed that the knight didn’t carry a sword or shield. Unfortunately, the fat mercenary realized this too. His hand reached for his battle ax and his tone grew increasingly aggressive.
“I’ve already apologized, and I didn’t damage your armor! It’s my right to discipline misbehaving brats!”
The mercenary spat, his voice growing louder. “If you have a problem, say it. Who are you trying to intimidate?”
The white knight certainly stood out. The standoff between the mercenary and the knight was far more interesting than the mercenary kicking a child. A few bystanders stopped to watch with interest.
Piel, no longer lying down, sat up, leaning against the wall, studying the back of the knight.
The knight still said nothing, standing relaxed, unshaken. The fat mercenary’s hand tightened and loosened around his ax, sweat forming on his forehead. A few minutes later, he cursed “lunatic” and grumpily left, pushing through the crowd.
“Wow…” Piel’s eyes nearly shone as he scrambled up. “Thank you, Sir Knight!”
The white knight nodded towards Little Piel and disappeared into the crowd. Nol felt a fleeting sense of oddity. By the time he tried to grasp it, the knight had vanished.
“There’s really all kinds of people that exist in this world.” Teest handed Nol a pomegranate seed. “Tsk, tsk. Such a perfect knight—I wonder what he’s doing in such a shabby place.”
“I want to be a knight.” Piel wiped the dirt from his face, muttering, “He didn’t even carry a sword. Did you see? He didn’t have a sword! But the fat guy was scared away.”
“Knighthood is expensive.” Teest poured cold water on Piel’s enthusiasm without a hint of sympathy. “And you need a lord to swear your loyalty to. That’s a troublesome matter.”
‘Are you the right person to say that, Sir Death Knight?Your sworn lord is right here,’ Nol thought, biting into the pomegranate seed.
Teest’s equipment was indeed shabby… The “Betrayer” was his constant, but apart from it and that wolf fang pendant, his knighthood lacked noteworthy items.
Recently, Nol had been busy reshaping his worldview, while Teest was still wearing rags. Damn, he wasn’t a good boss. The pomegranate juice in Nol’s mouth turned a little sour.
Once he found the Eclipse Shield, he would have to get Teest a full set of armor! As the Master of Paradise, he should also get himself a decent mage robe…
“Regardless of the challenges, I still want to be a knight,” Piel insisted. “He was so cool! So cool—”
“What you admire is ‘chivalry’, Piel,” Nol couldn’t help but interject. “’Chivalry’ doesn’t cost money, and anyone can have it.”
Teest peeked out from the other side of the boy, his face scrunched up obviously disapproving.
‘Except for a murderous Death Knight,’ Nol silently added.
“Really?” Piel turned to Nol.
“Yes, like helping others. It’s about the heart.” Nol couldn’t help but smile. “In doing so, without pledging allegiance to anyone, you are, in essence, a knight.”
“I’ll remember that!” Piel declared earnestly.
“Piel is talking to the air again.” Not far away, several street kids started whispering.
“Crazy Piel, Dirty Piel, grape skins stick to his eyeballs…”
Piel brushed off the dirt on his trousers, seemingly turning a deaf ear. He puffed out his chest proudly, as if he had just been knighted.
……
“So, you can’t take me to the church,” Crimson said.
By his side, an Eternalist had already fallen. His throat was slashed, and blood quickly spread across the floor.
“My Lord, My Lord. We know you are anxious—but-but we need to confirm with the priest. It’s a mandatory procedure.”
In the dim light, the only remaining Eternalist knelt on one knee, his voice trembling.
Twelve years ago, there were no Players in the world, and Player’s earrings couldn’t be used as absolute passes. If he wanted to investigate the data of this Immortal Church, he would have to go through the tedious processes of the Eternal Church.
Crimson clicked his tongue. If not for his intuition constantly alerting him, he would have loved to tell these people, “Idiots, your church is about to be done for.”
Moreover, the only ones who could withstand his killing intent and came to see him were merely inconsequential specks of dust, unlikely to provide any useful information.
“Alright, alright, I’ll wait,” Crimson said, stepping out, leaving a trail of bloody footprints, and sat on the only armchair in the room. “What are you all so busy with? There’s hardly anyone at the base.”
“The most basic hunting, My Lord.”
The only remaining Eternalist glanced at his deceased companion and replied formally, “There have been rumors that someone on Cork Street possesses the ‘Eye of Truth’. This is valuable material.”
The Eye of Truth? Crimson pondered for a while before finally matching it to a skill he knew of.
“With the ‘Eye of Truth’, isn’t there a corresponding oracle?” Crimson frowned.
Being God’s Chosen One, this wasn’t a secret in any major religion.
Whether it was the Temple of Life or the Eternal Church, the highest-ranking individuals were the “Chosen Ones” named by oracles—like the Pope, the archbishops or high priests beneath them, and the leaders of various central knight orders.
They all possessed their own oracles and corresponding prophecies of fate.
Next in rank were the “God’s Servants”.
This group shared a single oracle. They didn’t have specific fate prophecies—only vague identity indications.
These individuals were typically of above-average quality, like bulk purchases by God. They were commonly found in the middle ranks of religions and in the top ranks in remote areas.
The remaining followers were recruited by the major religions themselves, and they could climb to mid-rank positions at most, with almost none reaching higher ranks.
It was said that this oracle system had been in operation for thousands of years without any issues. The only widely known “error” was the apostate former Pope of the Temple of Life, Godfrey Painter.
The [Eye of Truth] was a pretty good skill. In Crimson’s view, it should be considered at the level of God’s Servants.
“Yes, the oracle descended later… We want to be prepared in advance,” the Eternalist said, bowing his head deeply, resembling a black garbage bag filled with a corpse given his black robe.
You’re adding wood to a burning house. Recruiting without giving warnings—your god is really cruel.
“If I help you find this Eye of Truth, can I see the priest sooner?” Crimson asked, eager to witness the spectacle.
“Certainly, My Lord. We are very grateful, My Lord. May everything be eternal—”
“That’s settled then.”
That night, Crimson followed the group of Eternalists out.
It seemed that they were looking for a dark-haired boy nicknamed “Piel”—the [Eye of Truth] had a deep purple hue, making it a very distinct feature. With just one gold wheel, the vagrants on the street would eagerly draw a portrait for them.
The only challenge was that Piel kept to himself, and no one knew where he lived.
Crimson tried using the [Blood Gnome’s Bargain] for divination. This future-predicting spell seemed to conflict with the “past”. Even offering a fresh corpse, the blood gnome didn’t show its face.
How boring.
His current task from the present was to find information, and his task from the past was to find the boy. Couldn’t there be something more thrilling? Crimson stopped in front of a closed-down pawnshop, briefly removed his hood, and impatiently stretched his neck and shoulders.
Separated by a pane of glass.
Nol was trying to make popcorn by roasting corn kernels with a toothpick. When he saw the blood-stained earring of a Player, he almost dropped the kernels into the fire due to shock.
A “Demon” Player from the Eternal Church.
The moment this person took off his hood, Nol immediately recognized the red hair—it was the “Demon” they had fought against in Whitebird City—Burly Jack’s partner, Crimson from Country A, the serial killer.
…But how can there be a Player here?!
“How did this guy get here? He really is like a haunting ghost.”
Teest was spreading butter on the corn kernels, marveling, “He can’t possibly be after the shield too, can he?”
Nol watched Crimson walk away, feeling the letter opener on him. “Hard to say. But he’s not from this era, so attacking him shouldn’t be a problem.”
They accidentally let him go before. They couldn’t let him escape this time.
“Should we follow him?”
Teest sat on a corn cob, continuing to roast his kernels. Through the window, Crimson casually walked towards the street’s end.
Nol glanced at the sleeping Piel inside the store, relaxing a bit. “No. Let Ben follow him. We’ll discuss it after we leave this kid.”
Ever since they found out that the kid had something to do with the world’s situation, Nol had been on edge. If the Eternal Church retaliated and involved Little Piel, that would be bad. Plus, they still couldn’t be sure why Crimson was here. He wasn’t a true believer of the Eternal Son, so he might not go to the Immortal Church—getting trapped by him and missing the quest would be a big problem.
…Speaking of quests, ever since they returned to the past, the system had been unusually quiet. Grape Collar was a big city. They had been here a day and a half and hadn’t triggered even half a system task.
It was as if the system didn’t exist.
Thankfully, all their skills still worked. Nol glanced at the four moons in the night sky. Those weird things hadn’t changed, such a pity.
The next morning, Piel woke up to the delicious aroma of buttered popcorn.
With the appearance of that cockroach Crimson, Teest and Nol spent the whole night by the window. With nothing else to do, they ended up with a mountain of caramel popcorn. Piel tasted one. The sweetness immediately brought a smile to his face.
“It’s so delicious!” he exclaimed genuinely. “It’s even better than yesterday’s sweet cheese.”
“Today’s reward is this, plus a stick of butter, fair and square.” Teest gave a big yawn, leaning against a slightly dehydrated blue rose. He took the promised reward—a whole salted butter stick—from his pocket and put it in the drawer.
“Yay!” Piel cheered.
‘This is an advance payment,’ Nol thought. Perhaps they would say goodbye today.
With Crimson nearby, could the Eternalists be far behind? Once they found a suitable tool from the Eternal Church, they would abandon their base and follow that person into the church.
He hoped that after they left, fate would be kind to this poor child.
Unfortunately, it turned out they wouldn’t be parting soon—before lunchtime, Teest detected the presence of the Eternalists.
Seven Eternalists, plus Crimson, were approaching from different directions amidst the crowd.
‘Strange,’ Nol thought. He and Teest certainly hadn’t exposed themselves. Could it be that these people were here for the Eye of Truth?
‘We need to escape with the child,’ he thought.
The next moment, Nol was once again bitten by the cold darkness.
“You can’t,” it roared.
This is his destiny.
The author has something to say:
Nol: ? I don’t believe you.
Old Mad Monk: Loves explosions and blasts his enemies into the sky with a bang.
New Teest: He likes explosions and uses the “Betrayer” to bake popcorn all night long… Come to think of it, his color scheme is quite popcorn-like (…
“Mayor, my child is already 6 months old, a boy, and I also want to name him Ryan. It is an honor for all of us to have a mayor like you in Beautiful Flower Town!”
Upon seeing Ryan in the production center, the pregnant women all gathered around to speak. It was evident that Ryan was dearly loved by the townspeople.
In the face of everyone’s enthusiasm, Ryan responded with a polite and gentlemanly smile, advising them all to be careful. After kindly shaking hands with everyone, Ryan went to the doctor’s office to inquire about everyone’s conditions.
Upon hearing that all the pregnant women and children were healthy, Ryan showed a very relieved smile. When leaving, he received many bouquets, each with a pink card inside. The female doctors and nurses sent out bouquets with shy smiles, leaving one to wonder about the content on the cards.
Before getting into the elevator, Zhou Qian stopped Ryan. “Wait.”
“What’s the matter?” Ryan asked Zhou Qian.
Zhou Qian asked, “Where are we going next?”
Ryan said, “How about going back to the reception room? If you are hungry, you can also get something to eat. When your friend wakes up and the interrogations of the two girls are over, if they are indeed not witches, I’ll escort you out together.”
“Do you have a place to stay? I would be delighted to welcome you to stay in Beautiful Flower Town; I can arrange houses for you.”
“That sounds great,” Zhou Qian responded naturally. “Can you arrange a house by the mountain and river for me?”
“No problem. I will have someone arrange it,” Ryan said.
“During the waiting period, we have nothing to do… Can we walk around on this floor?” Zhou Qian said, “My sister’s child was killed by a vile witch. Unfortunately, unlike these pregnant women, she hasn’t been able to walk out of the pain. I want to ask some pregnant women about their experiences in adjusting their emotions to help my sister later. Can you give me… one hour?”
Ryan’s beautiful green eyes narrowed for a moment, then he cheerfully responded, “Of course. In an hour, the problems on your friend’s side should also be resolved. I will send someone to pick you up then.”
Ryan left with some soldiers, leaving others to guard Zhou Qian and the rest. Qi Liuxing looked around and noticed that some pregnant women and nurses were curiously looking their way, as if wondering about the identities of these players.
After looking around, Qi Liuxing withdrew his gaze and asked Zhou Qian, “So, why do you want to stay here?”
Zhou Qian walked towards the nurse station with a smile. “Of course, to get the girls’ numbers.”
Qi Liuxing frowned immediately. “They are all pregnant, married women!”
Zhou Qian: “You underage kid, what are you thinking about all day?”
Qi Liuxing: “…”
“I, of course, have other uses. Also—”
Zhou Qian turned back and said to him and Ke Yuxiao, “You should also try to talk to them as much as possible. Let’s find a way to probe Mayor Ryan’s background.”
Following Zhou Qian’s words, Li Buhui also volunteered to join the “probing” action. Thus, the four players quickly split up to initiate their actions—talking to doctors, nurses, and pregnant women. After 30 minutes, everyone gathered in the family waiting area and discussed their findings, gaining a more comprehensive understanding of Beautiful Flower Town and even Mayor Ryan.
The town was located remotely, far from big cities, and development here was once very closed off. In the generations of people here, very few chose to pursue education, and there wasn’t much cultural knowledge.
All in all, it was a relatively backward town. Mayor Ryan chose to be the one to “step out.”
It was said that Ryan studied abroad and earned a Ph.D., learning a lot of knowledge.
He didn’t choose to stay outside but chose to return home to develop the town and give back to the land that nurtured him. He started as an ordinary government employee but was quickly promoted to mayor through his abilities.
The town’s electricity and water projects were planned and built by him, and the computers, TVs, telephones, and the like used by the residents were also technologies he brought from big cities.
In short, the townspeople went from being backward to prosperous, from laborious work to relying on technology for a convenient life, all thanks to Ryan’s efforts.
Thus, Ryan became a “godlike” existence in the hearts of the townspeople. The only group in town that refused to accept Ryan was probably the Witch Association.
Regarding this, doctors, nurses, and even the pregnant women, most of them gave similar comments. “Twenty years ago, the townspeople were all ignorant. Twenty years later, we have today, thanks to Mayor Ryan! It was he who led everyone out of ‘ignorance’.”
“But those witches are still as ‘ignorant’ as ever. No, they are not only ignorant, but they are also evil! The evil spirits they conjure… are terrifying!”
From the information received so far, Mayor Ryan wasn’t only a high-tech talent but truly loved this town and was indeed contributing to it.
Therefore, Zhou Qian could only temporarily attribute the tragedy on Weir Mountain to an accident, rather than something Ryan did intentionally.
However, after that accident, everything Ryan did to cover up the truth and protect his good image in the town was intentional.
Just then, Zhou Qian received a message from Situ Qing.
[We entered a place resembling a cell, and indeed, we saw two witches. They were motionless, most likely already dead.]
Sure enough.
Unsurprisingly, these two witches must have been silenced.
This undoubtedly confirmed Zhou Qian’s suspicion.
On the day of the Strawberry Music Festival, a very coincidental thing happened. Most adults had left the town for a vacation, and only a few stayed at home.
This coincidence gave Mayor Ryan the opportunity to whitewash everything.
That day, most of the town’s children went to Weir Mountain to attend the festival. A few, like Lina, who were unwell, didn’t go and stayed in town.
Afterward, an unknown accident occurred on Weir Mountain—an extremely radioactive power station or laboratory exploded.
Zhou Qian believed that with the high level of technological development in the town, the mayor should have remedied it in time, so the radiation only affected Weir Mountain and the northern town, and the adults who were on vacation that day were temporarily safe.
But not the people in the town.
The children who went to the festival on Weir Mountain were the first victims.
And the few adults and children who stayed in the town that night were likely also hit by radiation, but the adverse reactions in their bodies might be slower as they were exposed to less radiation, and it wasn’t so direct.
To prevent exposure, Mayor Ryan’s decision was to—kill all the people affected by radiation.
So, the few adults and children who stayed in the town that night were all killed, and it was disguised as abnormal phenomena such as hearts being removed, and heads being chopped off.
Ryan did this to blame everything on the “evil spirits”.
As for the children who attended the music festival on Weir Mountain, they weren’t directly killed by Ryan’s people.
Firstly, there were too many of them, and even Ryan couldn’t openly create so much slaughter.
Secondly, Ryan could use others to do the killing.
He deliberately created many murders in the town and blamed all the murders on the “evil spirits”, so naturally, he could let the witches handle the children who were “possessed by evil spirits”.
As for why the witches unanimously believed that many evil spirits appeared that night and then really thought everything was the work of evil spirits after “seeing is believing”?
This must be because they received a message from the Witch Association.
Ryan set up a radiation barrier in the northern town, even preventing mutated animals and plants affected by radiation from passing through. Witch Sarah claimed it was set by her magic.
Ryan let everyone wear protective clothing, saying it was a scientific way to prevent evil spirits, but what the clothes really prevented was radiation; similarly, Witch Sarah distributed special witch robes to everyone, claiming they were enchanted with protective spells, but in fact, they were just radiation-proof clothing.
The only person in the town who really “went out” to learn about technology was the mayor.
The technologically ignorant witches thought the clothes were really enchanted with spells that could protect against evil spirits after finding out they were really safe in them.
Moreover, the guns that Ryan’s military force used are similar to electric stun guns.
The weapons in the witches’ hands were surprisingly similar.
Zhou Qian didn’t ask the witches about this, but he could guess that Sarah must have told the witches that these were weapons enchanted by her, able to drain the strength of those who are cursed.
Finally, the crystal ball in the witches’ hands must also be a lie.
It should just be a device that can detect radiation levels, only made in the shape of a crystal ball.
Looking at it this way, Witch Association President Sarah seemed to be colluding with Mayor Ryan—their cooperation was too tacit.
On the surface, they seemed to be absolutely opposed.
But they were actually jointly maintaining a lie—that this world had evil spirits and magic.
To clear Ryan of his charges, Sarah deceived all the witches. She brainwashed them, telling them that evil spirits had appeared in the town, forcing witches like Eva to act against their own children with a heavy heart.
In order to perpetuate the lie, Sarah constantly performed, attributing “magical” meaning to all “technological” products.
Sarha led patrols every day, all for show. To maintain a good image of working “for the town and its people”, and to comply with the witches’ wishes and avoid suspicion, she had to pretend to be earnestly looking for survivors and exorcizing evil spirits.
Meanwhile, she also responded to everyone’s requests by sending people to investigate the origins of the evil spirits on Weir Mountain. But if any witch found the “power station” on Weir Mountain or any other evidence that might expose Mayor Ryan’s secrets, that witch would immediately be arrested by government forces and subsequently executed.
However, the cooperation between Sarah and Ryan seemed flawless, which raised the question, what was Sarah’s purpose and benefit in this?
She was so skilled with technological products; it seemed she knew everything Ryan did.
Was it possible that she and Ryan were the same person?
After all… it was Sarah’s suggestion to have some players cross-dress from the beginning.
It turned out she was the true master of disguise.
Ryan’s turquoise eyes and Sara’s blue eyes started to interchange in Zhou Qian’s vision. Ryan had blonde hair, and Sarah had blonde eyelashes. This seemed to serve as evidence.
Although they didn’t look very alike… Zhou Qian remembered, when he met Sarah, she was wearing heavy makeup. Makeup, of course, could make a person look very different. The color of the eyes could be solved with colored contact lenses.
Sarah was Ryan. Ryan himself was a man, and he cross-dressed to pose as a witch.
Zhou Qian was becoming more and more certain about this.
However, there was still a doubt. Such impersonation was possible in a short time, but it was highly improbable for Ryan to do this for more than ten years without slipping up. So, the earliest Witch Sarah should indeed have existed.
Where did she go, and how was she replaced by Ryan?
Furthermore, there was another small question in the whole affair.
Ryan couldn’t accomplish such a thing alone. He must have a team that was absolutely loyal to him, helping him manage everything. These people believe in him, probably even more than the witches believe in Sarah.
After all, everything Sarah did in front of the witches was an act. They believed in her disguise. But Ryan’s followers believed in the real Ryan.
They manufactured massacres, disguised crime scenes, and eventually made sure all informants—everyone who might expose the matter—were dead…
They should also be townspeople. Why would they do such things?
……
At this point, the four players present had almost sorted out everything. Qi Liuxing wondered, “So, what should we do next? This time, the system’s hints about the plot are very scarce.”
Ke Yuxiao said, “I think we should find a way to rescue Wu Ren, Situ Qing, and Yin Jiujiu first. Besides, Wu Ren has less than two hours left. I have a bad premonition.”
The two discussed for a moment and then looked at Zhou Qian, seemingly wanting his opinion. Zhou Qian didn’t speak for a while. He was unusually serious, and then also glanced at his watch. The system popped up a message from Li Xuexai—
[The place where life points decrease quickly is where the radiation is severe. I’m very worried you all might be sent back to Weir Mountain.]
Seeing this line, Zhou Qian’s mouth curled, and he whispered, “Unfortunately, I think your worries are correct.”
Zhou Qian guessed right. So did Li Xuehai.
Soon, with a “ding” sound, the elevator door opened. Mayor Ryan walked in, surrounded by soldiers. He seemed like a completely different person.
He used to be gentlemanly and polite; his smile was gentle, and his eyes were always filled with concern. But this time, when he stepped out of the elevator, his eyes seemed to be shining.
When he saw Zhou Qian and the others, his eyes brightened even more. He walked up to Zhou Qian and firmly shook his hand as if holding some precious gift, unwilling to let go. “You are gifts from heaven, gifts for Beautiful Flower Town! Come! Follow me!”
Mayor Ryan seemed to be inviting the players into the elevator on the surface, but in reality, the players were forced to move forward with guns pointed at their heads.
This time, they directly took the elevator to the underground parking garage and then astonishingly entered a commercial vehicle.
When Zhou Qian entered the commercial vehicle, he was quite surprised to find that Situ Qing, Yin Jiujiu, and Wu Ren were already inside.
As for any discoveries each of the three made, Zhou Qian temporarily didn’t have time to ask. Only when everyone was in the vehicle and the car gradually drove away from the government building did he find that this car was indeed heading to Weir Mountain.
At this time, Mayor Ryan was still warmly shaking his hand; his eyes were shining as if a cheetah had seen its prey.
Zhou Qian looked back at him, the corner of his mouth hooking into a smile. “Dear Mayor Ryan, what did you mean by what you said just now?”
Ryan spoke with a laugh, his words somewhat incoherent. “It’s… you are all gifts… Your data has come out. I mean, when you first came to the government building, you went to the testing room. Besides removing the possible radiation, ah no, evil spirits from your body, I had people test you.”
“You are my gifts… There is something in your bodies… that can coexist with them… just like those animals and plants… you are not afraid of it…”
“Of course, there are differences in your constitutions. This person is a bit weaker…” Ryan pointed at Wu Ren and clutched Zhou Qian’s hand even more fervently. “But you are the best among you. You are my gift!”
Zhou Qian: “……”
Zhou Qian didn’t speak; he only frowned, sensing a rather ominous premonition. Although Ryan was somewhat incoherent and still hiding everything, Zhou Qian felt that he probably understood Ryan’s meaning.
In this town, humans undoubtedly fear radiation. After mutating, they would suffer, become ill, and eventually die. But animals and plants were different—especially plants.
They would grow taller and become bizarre in appearance, but they wouldn’t die. Now that Ryan had gotten the test data on the players, he believed that players, like plants, weren’t afraid of radiation.
Perhaps players would mutate and become bizarre in appearance, but they would not die but would survive under radiation.
Zhou Qian allowed Ryan to hold his hand, staring into his eyes and asking, “Do you mean that we can coexist with ‘evil spirits’? But why would you hope for such a thing to happen?”
Perhaps because Ryan was too excited at the moment or because the people in the car were his close associates who knew all his deeds, he didn’t hide much and spoke directly, “Because the development of technology cannot be separated from ‘evil spirits’. Evil spirits can provide the most efficient production… It’s greatly convenient for humans! If humans cannot coexist with it, its utility would be greatly limited!”
“You… You’ve appeared! This is great! If one day we humans are no longer afraid of ‘evil spirits’, how wonderful? Our lives will be full of convenience! We don’t have to worry about excessive deforestation or resource consumption. As long as we vigorously develop ‘evil spirits’, we will have inexhaustible resources!”
“We didn’t dare to easily use these resources before because we feared humans themselves would be backfired, afraid that we couldn’t adapt to such an environment. But your appearance means my thoughts were indeed correct!”
“Indeed… this accident reminded me that humans also need to make all changes to adapt to environmental changes, right?” Ryan’s eyes had become extremely fanatic at this point. He couldn’t help but look out the window at the town.
“This new town has been protected by me. But the humans here are too fragile. They are like flowers in a greenhouse. The pursuit of technological progress brought by a little bit of ‘evil spirit’ would make them fall… They are simply vulnerable.”
“You’ve appeared… I may be able to transform them.”
Returning his gaze, Ryan looked at Zhou Qian with fervent and gentle eyes, holding his hand tightly, and said, “I can feel that you seem to be not from this world. I don’t know if some accidents have affected time and space, causing you to appear… Anyway, you are gifts bestowed by heaven to me. So—”
“Please be my test subjects. You will make a huge contribution to humanity!”
Compared to the fanaticism in Ryan’s eyes, the players’ moods had undoubtedly hit rock bottom.
A moment later, they, as test subjects, without wearing protective suits, had already arrived at the most severely radiated core area—the top of Weir Mountain. Ryan and his soldiers were wearing protective suits, and they brought the players wearing regular clothes off the vehicle.
The air here seemed to be somewhat thin, and the moment Zhou Qian stepped off the car, he already felt a bit breathless.
Looking up, Zhou Qian then saw a high wall appear before him.
The wall was very high and very long, making it impossible to see its end at a glance.
The material seems similar to what he had seen in government buildings, with very smooth lines made of very high-quality materials.
Above the high wall, faintly visible were some strangely shaped plants protruding above. Zhou Qian even thought he saw a huge tail sweeping over the edge of the wall just now.
Hence, whatever was concealed within this wall, whatever kind of bizarre world it was… it really made one afraid to think deeper.
Zhou Qian could only guess that a circular wall had been built here, enclosing all the secrets about Mayor Ryan within.
Next, the players would step into it, learning the deepest secrets behind, but also facing an extremely dangerous world.
After a while, Ryan got out of the car and personally took out a button and pressed it. A door was drawn open on the wall.
Ryan, holding Zhou Qian’s hand, led him and the other players to the door. “Please enter to undergo the experiment. I will come to pick you up afterward! Maybe by then… you will not look the same as you do now. But the you by then will be in the form of an advanced human. You will be a role model for all of us. We will all want to grow up to be like you.”
Zhou Qian didn’t speak; he just inadvertently glanced to the side.
Then he saw a leaf growing out of the back of Wu Ren’s neck.
He actually had a leaf growing out of his neck.
Pulling back his gaze, Zhou Qian acted as if he saw nothing.
When Ryan released his hand, about to let him in, Zhou Qian instead held his hand and gently raised it. “Dear Mayor, for the evolution of humans, I am willing to undergo this experiment. But before that, I want to ask you a question.”
“What do you want to ask?” Ryan said.
“You look very familiar.” Zhou Qian smiled. “Do you have any… sisters?”
The color of Ryan’s face seemed to change slightly, then he countered, “Why do you ask this?”
“No reason. She was my lover.” Zhou Qian’s eyes narrowed. “I am just very concerned about her whereabouts.”
[Player Zhou Qian initiated side plot: The Secrets Behind Ryan.]
Indeed.
He guessed it right.
The secrets behind Ryan must be closely related to the reason why he could disguise himself as Witch Sarah.
Just now, when Ling Xiao was in danger, among the people who intended to help, the red-haired from the duo was one of them. Now that the danger had passed, some people retreated, but these two approached once more.
“If I’m not mistaken, did you just use teleportation? Impressive. I can’t do that at all.”
“Teleportation?” Ling Xiao heard a new term. “Did you acquire a new skill? Is it difficult?”
“Teleportation demands both emotional and mental strength. My instructor said that our emotional strength is sufficient, but my mental strength hasn’t reached the required level, so I can’t activate it.”
Ling Xiao glanced at Ying Feng and thought to himself, if he could blow a paper ball into the sky, even if he couldn’t do it before, it definitely wasn’t due to a lack of mental strength…
The other continued questioning Ying Feng, “With such personal abilities, you must be aiming for the Combat Command Department?”
It was recognized as the most challenging solo examination, and only the best Qizhu would dare to apply.
“No,” Ying Feng denied. “We are applying for the Joint Combat Department.”
The two from Lion Hope looked at Ling Xiao with disbelief evident in their eyes, reflecting their inner turmoil. Ling Xiao, who had just been targeted as the weakest link by the monster, didn’t know how to explain, and could only smile awkwardly.
Fortunately, the Qizhu reacted quickly. “Right, he’s just lost some blood. Once he recovers, he should be fine. A Qizhu is stronger when the Qizi is powerful, so both of you must be exceptional. I’m looking forward to being classmates with you.” He extended his hand politely. “My name is Bing Can, and this is my Qizi Qian Si. Nice to meet you.”
The red-haired Qian Si said to Ling Xiao, “I didn’t expect you to have the skills to apply for the Joint Combat Department. See you in the examination!”
After exchanging names, Bing Can left with Qian Si. In the future, their competitors wouldn’t be the companions from Bikong but elite students from various junior academies. Just like Qian Si, Ling Xiao was also eagerly awaiting the Royal Sky Entrance Exam.
While some were looking to the future, others had no future left. In a dormitory of the 10th grade in Bikong, Zhen He experienced the worst nightmare of his 22 years of life. Before him, the initiator of this nightmare was swiftly using his power to firmly control Zhen He.
The humiliation of his life was underestimating this person. He couldn’t run, couldn’t end his life, and certainly couldn’t attack the Qizhu. Zhu Yue completely severed his connection with the outside world; even the dormitory’s network equipment was destroyed.
Zhen He, who wished to consume him, could only stare at him in this way now. Even though Zhu Yue had complete control, such a gaze still scared him.
He bravely took a step forward, trying not to make his voice tremble. “I need ability and money. I want to make the people who look down on me pay, so I have to do this.”
As he did every day, he bit his thumb and wiped the blood on Zhen He’s lips. The anger in Zhen He’s eyes burned even more intensely.
Zhu Yue swallowed. “But now I still need greater ability. Putting you on top is the only way I can compensate you. When I fully mature, I’ll let you go.”
Zhen He stared at him with red eyes, then roared from the depths of his throat and pounced on him.
……
Two weeks later.
Ling Xiao, who groggily got up from the bed, opened the bathroom door without much thought. Just out of the shower and not even wrapped in a towel, Ying Feng calmly looked at the intruder, seemingly thinking it was an ordinary occurrence, and showed no intention of covering up. Instead, it was Ling Xiao who was startled awake, slamming the bathroom door shut with a bang.
Outside, once he came to his senses, Ling Xiao regretted his overreaction. After all, he had seen it all before, so what was there to be embarrassed about?
But opening the door to go back in now would just seem like he was trying too hard to cover his mistake. As he rued his behavior, he recalled the glimpse of Ying Feng’s matured body, which seemed somewhat different from his own.
He sneakily pulled at the corner of his pants, wondering why, after all this time, he still didn’t have a single hair down there.
“What are you doing?” Ying Feng’s voice suddenly emerged from behind, startling Ling Xiao enough for him to let go.
“Nothing!” He denied stubbornly.
Ying Feng frowned, clearly having seen Ling Xiao looking at his privates, yet he still denied it.
Seeing that Ying Feng had come out, Ling Xiao hurriedly rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door just as heavily as before.
‘What on earth…’ Ying Feng thought.
Today was the scheduled day for a physical examination, and also the most crucial day. The results of today’s exam would determine whether Ling Xiao could participate in the entrance examination for Royal Sky Academy in two days.
At the infirmary, it was business as usual. While Ling Xiao waited outside, Yao Tai was busy inputting some data into the computer. On seeing Ying Feng, she casually greeted him, “You’re here.”
“Mm,” was Ying Feng’s simple reply.
Yao Tai’s hands paused in their motion, and she looked up at Ying Feng in surprise. Such a gaze made Ying Feng feel puzzled.
“What’s wrong?” he asked again.
His voice was now deep, resonating like a church bell or the cello in a symphony, striking a chord deep within the listener. Standing up, Yao Tai realized she now had to look up to see the young man she used to look down upon.
“Let’s start by measuring your height.”
Holding Ying Feng’s examination results, Yao Tai was speechless for a moment, leading Ying Feng to think that there might be an issue with his report.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, there isn’t,” Yao Tai finally said, recovering from her surprise. “You’ve developed very well. One might say too well…” She couldn’t help but ask, “Can Ling Xiao’s body handle being like this?”
Ying Feng didn’t respond, either because he didn’t understand or pretended not to.
“Never mind.” Yao Tai waved the report in her hand. “Your medical checkup shows no problems. But don’t get too excited too soon. Whether you can advance in your studies primarily depends on Ling Xiao’s medical report. Please wait outside for a moment.”
Ling Xiao entered after Ying Feng, anxiously awaiting the verdict. Yao Tai knew what he was most concerned about and started with his psychological evaluation. “Congratulations, your psychological rating reached A-, barely meeting the minimum requirement for Royal Sky Academy.”
“Yay!” Ling Xiao excitedly jumped off the examination table.
Yao Tai was genuinely happy for him, as she initially thought he had no hope of reaching this point.
“Your physical development is also excellent. You’ve grown four centimeters in a month, which is a great progression.”
Feeling smug, Ling Xiao said, “I was already two centimeters taller than Ying Feng. Now I’ve grown another four. Doesn’t that mean I’m six centimeters taller than him now?”
Regrettably, Yao Tai informed him, “Ying Feng grew ten centimeters. He’s now a full 180 centimeters.”
Ling Xiao felt as if he had been struck by thunder. No wonder he always felt that Ying Feng had changed lately. However, seeing him every day, the change had been stretched out by time and wasn’t noticeable. He hadn’t realized that Ying Feng had grown taller than him.
For ten years, the only advantage he prided himself on, the aspect he was most smug about, had been completely crushed in just a month.
“Normally, a Qizhu grows faster than their Qizi.” Yao Tai observed his expression. “But you shouldn’t be discouraged. You still have room for growth.”
“Will I grow taller than Ying Feng?” Ling Xiao eagerly asked.
“Normally, both Qizhu and Qizi either develop simultaneously or not at all. While there have been instances where the Qizi is taller than the Qizhu, given your current growth rates,” Yao Tai tried to soften her voice, “It’s unlikely.”
Ling Xiao was immediately crestfallen and deeply saddened.
Yao Tai cleared her throat. “Even though you can’t surpass him in height, you should still be able to grow another five or six centimeters before you’re fully developed. That would be quite tall among Qizis.”
“Um…” Ling Xiao hesitated. “I have another question.”
“Go on.”
He looked uncertain. “Promise you won’t laugh.”
“I won’t,” Yao Tai assured him, adhering to the professional conduct of not mocking a patient’s privacy.
“Well…” Ling Xiao’s voice grew quieter, so quiet that Yao Tai could hardly hear him.
“What did you say? Speak up.”
“Why don’t I have…”
Yao Tai still couldn’t hear clearly. “Don’t have what?”
With a firm resolve, Ling Xiao voiced the embarrassing question he had. Yao Tai struggled to maintain a neutral face, doing her best to suppress a smirk, but Ling Xiao caught her.
“You promised not to laugh!”
“I’m sorry.” Yao Tai turned her head away briefly, then, having composed herself, faced him again, looking every bit the professional doctor.
“In theory, whether for a Qizhu or Qizi, as they start to mature, secondary sexual characteristics will change, including growing body hair.”
Ling Xiao became anxious. “Then why haven’t I?”
“If it hasn’t grown by now, there’s only one explanation: it’s subtly influenced by the personal preferences of the Qizhu. Ying Feng probably isn’t even aware of this. It’s the subconscious at play.”
Ling Xiao’s face turned numb. “So, you mean I won’t have it now or in the future…”
“You probably won’t grow any.”
Ying Feng watched as Yao Tai personally escorted Ling Xiao out of the room. Ling Xiao, who had entered lively and spirited, emerged looking like a lost soul.
“What happened? Did he not meet the required grade?”
“His psychological grade just reached an A. Congratulations, you both can apply to Royal Sky.”
Ying Feng glanced at Ling Xiao. “I can’t see that at all.”
“He’s just been hit hard in another way.”
Ying Feng couldn’t imagine anything that could devastate Ling Xiao like this. “In what way?”
Yao Tai gave him a meaningful look. “You’ll have to ask yourself.”
Confused, Ying Feng followed Ling Xiao back to their dormitory. Ling Xiao walked ahead, distraught and silent.
Once in their room, Ying Feng forcibly spun him around. “What’s going on?”
Ling Xiao finally glared back at him. “Being your Qizi is already miserable. How could you do this to me?”
Ying Feng was clueless. “What did I do to you?”
“Have you no humanity left?”
“What are you talking about?”
Ling Xiao didn’t want to discuss it. He climbed onto his bed, sulking.
Unsatisfied, Ying Feng wasn’t having it. “Explain yourself.”
There was no way Ling Xiao could voice such a humiliating matter. He frantically kicked with both legs, trying to push Ying Feng away, exclaiming, “Stop it!”
Ying Feng grabbed one of his ankles, attempting to restrain the other leg in the same manner. However, due to Ling Xiao’s intense struggle, Ying Feng inadvertently grabbed the hem of his pants, nearly pulling them down to his knees.
In a panic, Ling Xiao hurriedly yanked up his trousers, using both hands to cover himself.
Such an action only drew Ying Feng’s attention even more. Coupled with Ling Xiao’s behavior earlier in the day, it seemed Ying Feng was getting close to understanding the core of the issue.
He pinned down Ling Xiao’s legs and, without a word, attempted to pull off his trousers. Although the two had been candid with each other many times, such an action under the bright daylight was unprecedented. Ling Xiao’s face turned beet red with embarrassment, and he resisted with all his might. But he couldn’t match Ying Feng’s strength, who managed to yank his trousers down. Ling Xiao, who had been exposed so many times before, felt the sting of humiliation even more sharply this time. Previously unnoticeable details were now glaringly apparent.
Taking advantage of Ying Feng’s momentary shock, Ling Xiao mustered all his strength to push him away, quickly getting up to pull up his trousers, deeply mortified.
“You’re stronger than me, taller than me, and have what I don’t. Are you satisfied now?”
Ying Feng looked down, deep in thought, but that didn’t make Ling Xiao feel any better.
“Feeling guilty now? It’s too late! Dr. Yao said this is how I’ll be for the rest of my life!”
Ying Feng looked even more dejected, raising a fist to his mouth as if to stifle a sob or laughter.
“Regret won’t help now! Crying won’t help! You owe me so much; you can never repay it in this lifetime! …Wait, you aren’t laughing, are you?”
He was stunned. In the ten years they had known each other, it was the first time he saw Ying Feng smile. The change in his expression was so subtle that unless someone was extremely familiar with him, they wouldn’t notice.
Yet to Ling Xiao, who knew Ying Feng better than anyone, the smile was evident. The corners of his eyes, the tips of his eyebrows, and even his mouth, hidden by his clenched fist—all were smiling. The warmth this added to the ordinarily cold Ying Feng was palpable.
Ling Xiao never imagined that the first time he would see Ying Feng smile in a decade would be because of this. But this was absolutely not funny!
Ying Feng turned away, letting out a slight cough. Ling Xiao lost his cool instantly.
“I heard it! I heard you laughing! You’re actually mocking me! You’re mocking me for this?”
In a fit of rage, he hopped around on the bed, grabbed the only pillow within reach, and ferociously pounded Ying Feng’s back with it. For once, Ying Feng neither dodged nor stopped him, just letting Ling Xiao vent out his frustrations.
Meanwhile, the so-called “program” was anxiously making a determination: Was this an attack? Or flirting? Should it intervene or let it be? An attack? Flirting? An attack? Flirting?
Forget it, human emotions are too complicated. The system couldn’t make a correct judgment and decided to crash.
The author has something to say:
There are some details that I couldn’t fit into the story, so I’ll add them here.
The abilities of a Qizhu are controlled by two values: emotional value and mental power.
Spiritual Vision: mental power =>5, detect the position of the Qizi.
Mental Communication: mental power =>10, emotional value =>10.
Teleportation: mental power =>20, emotional value =>20.
Exchange life for life: emotional value = 100.
For a normally bonded couple, their initial emotional value is between 60-80. Primary academies don’t train mental power, so most Qizhu start with a mental power of 0, unable to activate their abilities.
Bing Can and Ling Xiao currently have a mental power of 10, enough to activate a level one soul crystal.
Ying Feng’s mental power is around 30. The instructor thinks he’s very powerful, mainly due to his high mental power, as it’s rare for couples to have an “insufficient emotional value”.
Regarding emotional levels: 10 is a nod and hello when meeting; 20 is a short chat on mutual interests; 30 considering the other as a friend worth keeping; 40 is inviting for a drink; 50 is budding romantic feelings; 60 is gathering courage to confess; 70 is being deeply in love; 80 is missing the other every single day; 90 is a willingness to commit for life; 100 is being willing to give one’s life for the other.
Congratulations to Ying Feng and Ling Xiao for advancing their relationship from a nod and hello to having short conversations. Keep it up!
The Shirou was taken away, and everything returned to normal. At this moment, the morning sun rose completely, birds chirped loudly, and the forest was bathed in radiant spring light.
The stench was replaced by a fresh fragrance, with only a hint of blood lingering in the wind. Shi Jingzhi collapsed weakly onto a wooden chair, his long hair and clothing soaked with the blood gushing from him. He seemed to be breathing less and less, his life hanging by a thread, creating a scene of sorrow.
The senior disciple of the Kushan Sect arrived late. Yin Ci jumped down from the treetop and quickly pressed various acupoints on Shi Jingzhi’s body, frantically trying to stop the bleeding and close the wound. The medicine box was thrown aside, its valuable contents scattered everywhere. Yin Ci poured and applied the medicines heedlessly.
Shi Jingzhi’s eyes were tightly closed, his face paler than winter snow, and his breath faint like a spider’s thread floating in the wind. If it weren’t for Yin Ci desperately trying to save him, he would have been no different from a corpse.
Knowing that Yin Ci had no inner force, Shi Zhongyu rushed forward to infuse her own qi to heal the wounds. Only then did Jin Lan react, calling others to clear a space for a proper treatment.
After witnessing the strange and unsettling scene, everyone was in disarray and shock. But seeing the life-threatening situation, everyone did their part. Some provided medicine, some lent their strength, and they barely managed to save Shi Jingzhi.
Yan Qing stood amidst the chaotic crowd, silent as a wooden stake. He gazed at the blood-covered, unconscious Shi Jingzhi and deeply frowned.
Then he turned to look in the direction where Su Si had fled, still without saying a word.
In the bushes, Su Si moved as fast as he could. Upon escaping Juyi Valley, he quickly mounted a black horse and continued his escape towards the outskirts of Kushan. As he had anticipated, several presences began to converge around him, drawing closer and closer.
“They’re really impatient,” Su Si remarked, urging his horse to go faster.
He had spent all of his sixty-seven taels on this. More than five or six were spent on handy tools, and the rest was used to purchase the horse. Though it wasn’t a top-tier steed, it was young and sturdy, built for long runs.
The “Shirou” was stored in a crystal jar by Su Si, securely tied to his chest, leaving no gaps. Even though it had returned to its enticing form, its torturous fragrance could not escape.
Once outside the mountains, another reddish-brown horse awaited him. A masked woman in martial attire was atop it. “I’ve set up a diversion spell. This way!”
“Good!” Su Si’s mouth curled in a smile.
Riding the horse felt like being hit by a storm. Holding the reins tightly, Su Si’s focus gradually shifted away from the blurred scenery ahead.
He wondered about Shi Jingzhi’s condition.
Memories from a few days ago resurfaced. Every time he recalled that day, Su Si found it utterly absurd.
That day, Shi Jingzhi had specially dismissed Yan Qing and summoned him. Su Si had assumed he was being tasked with another errand and had even planned to negotiate a higher fee. However, upon hearing Shi Jingzhi’s request, Su Si wished he had an extra pair of legs to run away faster.
“Have you lost your mind?!” Su Si exclaimed.
He then turned to Yin Ci, hoping he would intervene. But Yin Ci, though showing a displeased expression, actually agreed with Shi Jingzhi.
“This method is indeed the best. After all, you come from the bloodline of the ‘Red Scorpion Feet’ of Chigou. You know how to skillfully hold back.”
Crazy, these two are insane. Su Si had been fighting in the rivers and lakes for many years, yet he had never seen such a bizarre request. He pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
“Hold back? The two of you want me to slit the throat of the Sect Master. If you want it to look like a real assassination, you have to consider the subsequent rescue—if the rescue goes wrong, he’s done for!”
Besides, Shi Jingzhi’s health was already compromised. A stab, even if not fatal, would only make things worse. With the ‘Shirou’ right at hand, Su Si couldn’t figure out what these two were up to.
Wouldn’t a swift death be merciful?
“I want to understand clearly.”
Shi Jingzhi’s voice was shaky, but firm.
“With things set up to this extent, even if I’m a replaceable tool, the Immortal Assembly should intervene. Su Si, leave for a few days, and remember to make some mistakes in advance. If someone hinders you, let it be. If not…”
Shi Jingzhi didn’t finish, but Su Si knew what he meant.
He was just a “small player”. If the Immortal Assembly wanted, obstructing him would be easy. But their inaction indicated only one possibility –
They had an unconventional method to ensure Shi Jingzhi “won’t die”.
Moreover, Shi Jingzhi was already suspicious of the ‘Shirou’. Taking it for himself provided Shi Jingzhi an excuse “not to consume” it. This way, he could focus on studying the ‘Shirou’ without revealing his intentions to the Immortal Assembly.
Apart from this being an insane plan, Su Si couldn’t find any other flaws. After pondering for a while, he said, “Why does it have to be me? Shen Zhu can cast spells; she’s not incapable.”
Shi Jingzhi gave a slight smile. “Because you can take over the Chigou Sect.”
Su Si’s relaxed expression vanished instantly. “When did I decide?”
“Because both of us know, Yan Qing is not one to hide. Knowing his character, how long do you think he can hide his tail once he steps into the arena?”
Shi Jingzhi stared intently into Su Si’s eyes.
“You probably understand better than anyone that life is not about licking one’s wounds. To protect friends, you need power… Now, Chigou is a piece of meat right in front of you. If I’m not mistaken, you’ve already discussed this with Protector Hua, right?”
Su Si remained silent, then chuckled after a while. “Sect Master has sharp eyes; nothing can escape your notice.”
This was the perfect opportunity. If he gave up Chigou, he would only travel with his friend as a servant. Faced with the Immortal Assembly targeting the Kushan Sect, they could only expect suppression and anxiety.
And they were just servants of the Kushan Sect, with no say in decisions.
Although Su Si seemed indecisive on the surface, he had made up his mind. He intended to delay this matter and stay with the Kushan Sect for a bit longer. Not to mention his own resentment towards the Chigou Sect; once he took over, their laid-back days would be over.
What a pity.
“So, let’s speak candidly. Sect Master Shi, what’s in it for me?”
Su Si’s aura subtly shifted, his tone no longer that of a servant, but more like the Young Patriarch of the Chigou Sect.
“Chigou has always had a decent relationship with the righteous path. If we kill and steal treasures at the last moment, it’s equivalent to slapping the faces of the righteous. Even if I don’t care about its reputation, it’s still a tool in my hands. I have to get some benefits from it.”
Shi Jingzhi laughed.
He glanced at Yin Ci next to him, his voice softening. “By taking on this task, you get two benefits. First, we won’t pursue the matter of you altering the Bone Sweeping Sword. Second…”
“As far as I know, Yan Zheng is finding ways to shirk responsibilities. You, gaining fame in front of the righteous people by killing for the ‘Shirou’, is the perfect time to take over the Ling Sect… Su Si, do you want to be the first to unify the demonic sects?”
First, they would deceive the Ling Sect disciples. Once they found out the truth, leaving wouldn’t be easy. Once Chigou took over the Ling Sect’s branches everywhere, they would undoubtedly be the rulers of the demonic sects. Then, not to mention protecting Yan Qing, even if the entire Kushan Sect sought refuge, he would be able to protect them.
Su Si bit his thumbnail, silent for a long time, then gradually displayed a bloody grin. However, he suddenly seemed to realize something, and the rising hostile aura vanished, replaced by hesitation.
If everything could be that simple, he wouldn’t be targeted by the Lord of Ignorance on Huilian Mountain. If he fully becomes the leader of the demonic sects, how could he call himself a “hero” in front of San Zi?
Seemingly seeing through his concerns, Yin Ci said calmly, “People in the demonic sect have always been disunited. If you’re not accustomed to it, you can destroy it afterwards. But the martial world can’t be purely righteous. Instead of letting villains run wild, it’s better to take control of the ‘evil path’.”
In principle, this was true. Su Si was torn. Even though Yin Ci had vast abilities, could he really become the leader of the demonic sects? Perhaps this was just empty talk.
Thus, Su Si remained silent for a moment, not continuing the conversation. He took a deep breath and abruptly changed the topic. “What did Sect Master Shi mean by ‘not pursue the matter of altering the Bone Sweeping Sword’? Even if Protector Hua doesn’t care, what does this have to do with the two of you?”
The next moment, he saw the master-disciple pair exchange glances, their faces screaming, “We’ve been waiting for you to ask that.”
……
That day, Su Si left the door floating with two new bumps on his head. The stingy fox said he wouldn’t pursue the matter but still rewarded him with two qi-filled blows. Standing beside the “Old Patriarch” of the Chigou Sect, Su Si stood upright and endured without uttering a sound.
Who would have thought that after a hundred years, he would face the sword’s master again? Recalling his past flaunting in front of Yin Ci, Su Si wished he could travel back in time and slap himself.
What a mess. The Kushan Sect was truly the number one den of thieves in the world. He should’ve taken San Zi and run!
Choosing this time to clarify the shocking news “Yin Ci is Su Zhi” was clearly an intimidation! It was intimidation!
Unfortunately, Su Si had to admit that he was truly intimidated. He had originally intended to flee if things went south, but now he had encountered an immortal debtor—
This debtor could chase him to the ends of the earth, so where could he run? Su Si smashed his own little plans and gave up.
He had to accept his fate.
However, the character of the Old Patriarch of the Chigou Sect seemed much gentler than legends suggest. As Su Si was leaving that day, Yin Ci, seeing him almost stumble, added, “Keep Yan Qing in the dark about this, or it might hurt your relationship. I’ll explain to him later… I’m sorry.”
“Huh?” Dazed by the surprising news, Su Si responded, “What’s the big deal? His acting sucks anyway; he shouldn’t know. As for our feelings… don’t worry, they won’t be hurt.”
Thinking of his friend, Su Si felt a bit relieved.
“He said he trusts me, and he will.”
…Yes.
Su Si pulled himself out of his memories, his smile growing wider. The recent events at the Kushan Sect made him more determined than ever. He felt exhilarated facing challenges head-on.
The woman beside him shot him a displeased look. Su Si laughed heartily and spurred his horse forward.
“How thrilling!”
As Su Si madly escaped, Shi Jingzhi remained unconscious. Yin Ci stayed by his side, constantly feeling his pulse.
It wasn’t a spell that trapped Shi Jingzhi—his health had been deteriorating lately. Being injured in such a state meant he was seriously wounded. Fortunately, his breathing was steady, and there were no signs of “Heaven’s Displeasure”.
Yin Ci surveyed the surroundings. Familiar faces surrounded them, and there was no sign of the Immortal Assembly. After the anomaly, the shock of the Shirou being taken was much weaker. People were still discussing the cause of the anomaly. While Shi Zhongyu was distracted by the incident, Qu Duanyun had disappeared, likely trying to contact Jiang Youyue.
Their speculation was probably correct.
Yin Ci held onto Shi Jingzhi’s cold hand and pressed it against his forehead.
He had deliberately climbed a tree when the anomaly first appeared, coming down when the Shirou was taken. Everyone’s attention was fixed, and the anomaly on him didn’t alarm them. When he descended, he had a clear view:
When Shi Jingzhi was bleeding profusely, seemingly on the brink of death, the bare branches around trembled violently. Their roots entwined in the air, forming a vague shape, seemingly reaching out to Shi Jingzhi. For some reason, Yin Ci felt a familiar sensation, a vague consciousness emerging from his heart.
That consciousness was blurry but assertive. It was as if something whispered in his ear while he was drunk.
[Save him.]
There were no words, but Yin Ci understood.
[Save him.]
This thought kept repeating.
Fortunately, Yin Ci had already intended to save him. As soon as he began to treat the wound, the surrounding branches returned to their original state. With the Shirou too far away, the jade eye became ineffective, and the branches disappeared from their view. As Shi Jingzhi’s condition improved, that vague consciousness also vanished instantly. If Yin Ci hadn’t lived for hundreds of years, he might have mistaken it for his own thoughts.
He checked everything on his own end. Now all that was left was to wait for Shi Jingzhi to wake up and see if he had made any other discoveries.
Shi Jingzhi’s eyes remained closed, but his brows were slightly furrowed, as if he had seen something terribly frightening. Yin Ci didn’t care about the surrounding gazes and held Shi Jingzhi’s hand tightly.
“Wake up,” Yin Ci whispered softly. “We had plans that we haven’t carried out yet. Do you want to back out?”
But a serious injury was still a serious injury. Unlike Yin Ci, Shi Jingzhi didn’t have the terrifying ability to heal instantly, so he couldn’t wake up right away. Yin Ci made some fish soup and crushed some juice for him, straining away the residues, and then fed it to him mouth-to-mouth.
Shi Jingzhi was in a coma for four days.
During his coma, most people came to the conclusion that the visions they had seen were illusions created by Su Si. Though many still had doubts, they couldn’t make sense of it all in this wild, remote place.
It was around this time that rumors spread about Su Si’s connections with the Chigou Sect. The sad reputation of the Kushan Sect intensified, and the unconscious sect leader seemed even more pitiful.
Nobody expected the intense conflict to end in such a bleak way.
“The demonic sect is just that, a demonic sect. We shouldn’t have underestimated them.”
“What a pity about Sect Master Shi…”
“You all should leave,” Yan Qing said with a tired face, giving a formal bow and forcing a smile. “The Sect Master is stable now and can be moved today. You have already expended a lot of effort on our behalf. We really appreciate it.”
After the tumultuous events, nobody wanted to confront the ghost eye Alliance Leader. The caravan arrived in a grand fashion and left in disarray, leaving only tracks stained with the scent of blood. Shi Zhongyu, who held the Reverse Yang Token, also departed with Taiheng.
Throughout the whole incident, no one from the Immortal Assembly approached Shi Jingzhi. The atmosphere in the mountains was peaceful, and it seemed like all plots and schemes were blocked outside, leaving a sanctuary for them.
Shi Jingzhi’s wounds showed signs of healing. Yin Ci carefully carried him into the carriage. His neck wound was critical, so they were the last to leave to avoid jostling him too much.
As the sun set and the moon rose, the stars filled the sky. Only the Kushan Sect’s carriage remained in the tranquil Juyi Valley.
Yin Ci fed Shi Jingzhi some liquid food and then brought over the medicinal soup. However, this time, just as the bowl approached Shi Jingzhi’s lips, there was a little reflection on the edge of the bowl.
A tear glistened.
Shi Jingzhi had opened his eyes at some point. Those amber eyes, once full of life, now only showed profound sadness. Unable to speak because of his throat injury, he just shed tears uncontrollably.
Shi Jingzhi, always so prideful and skillful, now appeared so vulnerable. Tears flowed freely in the dim carriage. He weakly raised his hand, pushing the bowl away, then slowly and firmly hugged Yin Ci, burying his face in Yin Ci’s chest.
After a while, still crying, Shi Jingzhi held Yin Ci tighter, like a drowning man clutching onto a lifeline. In the past, he had always been extravagant and arrogant. Even when faced with Yin Ci’s true form, he hadn’t blinked. Yin Ci couldn’t imagine what had terrified Shi Jingzhi to this extent.
Near death, what did you discover?
Yet Yin Ci didn’t ask, nor did he share what he had seen. He simply held Shi Jingzhi, just as he had comforted a child who had awoken from a nightmare twenty-four years ago in the same place.
“It’s okay to cry,” Yin Ci said softly, caressing Shi Jingzhi’s hair. “What’s the worst I could do, laugh at you? You’ve suffered enough. Don’t hold back. Even if the world collapses, we can stay here, and I’ll be with you until the end.”
Finally, Shi Jingzhi began to sob, albeit silently.
Yidu, the Imperial Preceptor Residence.
Qu Duanyun rushed over after receiving a summons from Jiang Youyue. Even though days had passed since the incident, he was still somewhat dazed. He couldn’t afford any delays.
The Jianchen Temple wasn’t completely sealed off, the Ling Sect hadn’t been uprooted, and the Chigou Sect had announced that they had a new Young Patriarch. Not to mention, a disciple from the Kushan Sect had now assumed the position of Alliance Leader, and even Shi Zhongyu had produced the Reverse Yang Token. If she found solid evidence, his position as Sect Master would be in jeopardy.
The essential “Shirou” was also taken by people from the Chigou Sect. If it was consumed by irrelevant individuals…
Just thinking about it gave Qu Duanyun goosebumps.
It was undeniable that the Immortal Assembly had been planning in the martial world for a long time, but the current situation was full of loopholes. Faced with these “achievements”, Qu Duanyun had nothing to say, and his ambitions had long since dissipated.
“I’ve failed as your student.”
“Mm.” Despite the continuous bad news, Jiang Youyue remained calm and even seemed to be in a good mood. “To hone your mind, you need to experience hardships.”
“What about the Shirou…”
Jiang Youyue smiled faintly. “Given Shi Jingzhi’s character, this is probably part of his plan. If he really didn’t want to let it go, snatching the Shirou might be harder than taking a set of his moves. He probably has reservations about the Shirou and is testing us.”
Relieved to know that the Shirou wouldn’t just be consumed by anyone, Qu Duanyun exhaled.
“Duanyun, do you know why I put you in charge of this?”
Jiang Youyue asked leisurely.
“Ever since you came into this world, you’ve been considered a favored child of heaven. Upon learning of the Hundred-Year Project, you would undoubtedly harbor feelings of discontent and aspire to take Shi Jingzhi’s position… Dead bait makes it hard to catch fish. Your genuine desire to snatch the Shirou is what can dispel that person’s doubts to the fullest extent.”
Qu Duanyun remained silent.
Indeed, with the Immortal Assembly plotting against major sect leaders and his own presence in Taiheng, it seemed as though they were determined to obtain the Shirou.
Regarding the anomaly they witnessed that day, it could be explained that “Yan Budu set a trap to deceive people.”
Although Shi Jingzhi might have doubts about the Shirou, he, like many, would find a myriad of “justifiable” reasons to persuade himself, especially given he was a Child of Desire.
“Remember, if a plan’s conditions are too stringent and intricately linked, it’s akin to seeking destruction. As my student, you should’ve seen through this.”
Jiang Youyue added with a hint of amusement.
Qu Duanyun closed his eyes—it turned out that Jiang Youyue didn’t care about the success or failure of the plan, and he was just a pawn in his hands.
“This student learned his lesson.”
He was genuinely disappointed and regretful.
Seeing the dejected expression on Qu Duanyun’s face, Jiang Youyue laughed heartily and said, “No need for that. I went through the same when I was younger. Duanyun, if you clearly lost to Shi Jingzhi and still tried to forcibly take the Shirou, that would truly disappoint me.”
“Don’t be disheartened. No matter the current state of the martial world, it’s already riddled with wounds and holes, and that’s enough… Come, I believe you must be curious about the unusual phenomenon you witnessed that day. It’s time I told you everything.”
Qu Duanyun, expecting reprimand, instead received an unexpected boon. The conflicting feelings, akin to both ice and fire, were truly unbearable, making him feel a tingle down to his very roots. Before he left the room with Jiang Youyue, he finally mustered the courage to cautiously ask his teacher a question—
“If I had forcibly taken the Shirou then, what would you have done?”
Without pausing or looking back, Jiang Youyue answered in a gentle tone, accompanied by the faint smile from earlier.
“Do you need to ask? …You grew up in Taiheng, so you must have consumed the Tranquil Heart Pill.”
Yan Qing stood helplessly on the stage, eagerly waiting for someone to stand up and shout, “Choosing the Alliance Leader isn’t child’s play.” However, the audience below just whispered among themselves, with no one voicing any objections.
Yan Qing, straightforward as he was, quickly grasped the crux of the matter.
In the eyes of others, as a servant, he could defeat Qu Duanyun, so the senior disciple, Yin Ci, would presumably be even stronger. Since Taiheng lost their qualifications, the outcome of a rematch would likely remain unchanged. The orthodox martial world valued rules, so if Yin Ci, being the senior disciple, became Alliance Leader, the Kushan Sect might have a greater claim to the position. On the other hand, if Yan Qing took the role, he could be easily dismissed at any time.
This scenario would save face for Taiheng while also giving the other sects a way out.
…Yan Qing understood the reasoning, but his dream was simply to lead a normal life, not to become the center of attention.
If the stares from the audience could be transformed into sword qi, he would already be minced meat by now.
Seeing the situation stabilize, the leader of the Jinyu Group swiftly struck the gong on the side of the stage. Clearing his throat and amplifying his voice using inner force, he announced, “Yin Ci of the Kushan Sect has forfeited, and Yan Qing wins by default. Does anyone have any objections?”
Whispers rose from the audience, but as Yan Qing predicted, no one openly voiced any objections.
Seeing this, the leader of the Jinyu Group lit a stick of incense. His gaze swept over the expressionless Qu Duanyun, and he paced at the edge of the stage. When the incense burned halfway, he repeated his query.
“The leader of the martial alliance is set to be Yan Qing from the Kushan Sect. Are there any objections?”
With the head of Taiheng remaining silent, no one in the audience voiced any opposition. However, groups were forming, discussing in hushed voices. Many showed disapproving expressions, but none objected.
Yan Qing, anxiety apparent, picked up the cup he had dropped earlier and quickly moved to the master and disciple side. “Sect Master, Senior Yin, what do we do now?”
“If you’re chosen, then just accept it. Your martial arts skills are top-tier, and you’ve also studied and learned the ways of orthodox sects from Taiheng. In terms of qualifications, how are you lacking?”
Seeing Yan Qing’s bewildered and shocked appearance, Yin Ci couldn’t help but be amused. “Moreover, once you become the Alliance Leader, after this meeting, Taiheng won’t have a stance to chase and kill you.”
Though Yan Qing lacked grand ambitions, whether in terms of courage, intelligence, or perseverance, he was indeed suited for the role. More importantly, both he and Shi Jingzhi were weary of the martial world’s intrigues. With the power of the Alliance Leader in their hands… Neither had the energy to deal with the mess of the responsibilities that came with it.
Yan Qing had the qualifications, and the opportunity was given. Whether he could firmly grasp this chance to integrate into the righteous path would depend entirely on Yan Qing himself.
Yan Qing pondered for a moment, finally calming down. He was about to speak when Yin Ci leisurely added, “The Alliance Leader also receives a monthly salary. By the rules, the leader receives sixteen taels of silver each month. For major sects, this amount is trivial, but…”
Yan Qing’s eyes hardened, and he instantly declared, “I’ll do it!”
Unfortunately, his youthful bravery was short-lived. The next moment, his energy deflated. He looked pleadingly at the Sect Master, doing his best to avoid the countless pairs of eyes below. “…How do I do this?”
“Do as you see fit. You’ve always been adept at handling matters and arranging miscellaneous tasks, haven’t you?” The emotionless Yin Ci didn’t offer an ounce of help. “Figure it out on your own.”
Finally, the incense stick burned out. The leader of the Jinyu Group straightened his collar and stood proudly at the edge of the stage.
“Does anyone have any objections?”
This time, a response came from the audience. An elder of some renown leaped forward, standing at the forefront of the stage. Stroking his beard, he scrutinized Yan Qing from head to toe.
“I wouldn’t say I have objections, but given the unusual circumstances, I’d like to propose a condition on behalf of everyone present. This young man, after all, is but a lowly servant of the Kushan Sect. If aside from his martial skills, he has no other abilities, where would the dignity of our righteous path lie?”
The elder’s tone was stern, and while his words might sound confrontational, they weren’t unreasonable.
In the past, the chosen alliance leaders were usually sect leaders or elders, so no one posed conditions. Now, presenting a young servant, it was natural for the righteous path to have concerns.
Unfortunately, the master and disciple of the Kushan Sect were cold-hearted. The two beasts seemed indifferent, leaving Yan Qing to fend for himself. Yan Qing, looking like a fledgling bird pushed out of its nest, made a quick decision and faced the elder with the proposal.
“What the elder said makes sense; feel free to make any requests.”
The old man nodded in agreement. “This martial arts conference is clearly intended to end the chaos caused by the ‘Shirou’. Young man, first present a plan that convinces everyone, then think about becoming the Alliance Leader.”
After speaking, he stared intently at Yan Qing with his eagle-like eyes, as if he was trying to catch every tiny mistake.
Yan Qing licked his chapped lips.
The master and disciple were almost like spectators, eating melon seeds* and watching the drama. Relying on the Kushan Sect seemed hopeless. As for A’Si… well, having been educated by a sect leader, A’Si should know what to do.
*Slang for onlookers who don’t participate or express their opinions and instead just watch.
The most serious negotiation Yan Qing had ever engaged in was bargaining in the vegetable market.
…Wait, bargaining?
Yan Qing rubbed his temples, suddenly realizing something crucial.
The position of the Alliance Leader was like a hot potato. The small sects truly didn’t want it. But they also didn’t want Yan Qing to gain power and favored the Kushan Sect. They were pressuring him to offer a fair solution.
Just like when haggling with a vendor, they don’t truly want to withhold the goods but just want to earn a few more coins.
Since the logic was the same…
“You are right, elder. The ‘Shirou’ chaos has lasted too long and needs a resolution.”
Imagining the platform below as a marketplace, Yan Qing felt at ease. He was always gentle and would never appear arrogant. If one overlooked his ghost eyes, he exuded righteousness.
“To my knowledge, Taiheng seeks the ‘Shirou’ for the Prince of Rong, while the Kushan Sect seeks it to save their sect leader. The Prince of Rong and the current Emperor are healthy, so they probably want to use it as a tonic. Sect Master Qu, is this true?”
Qu Duanyun remained silent, seemingly acknowledging the claim.
A murmur spread among the crowd below. Most martial artists didn’t have strong allegiances, especially to the imperial court. The idea of presenting the ‘Shirou’ to the royal family felt like shattering a precious antique.
Compared to that, the Kushan Sect wanted it just to save their sect leader’s life. A simple and blunt reason that seemed honorable.
Following this line of reasoning, Yan Qing quickly proposed a solution for the ‘Shirou’: since the Kushan Sect had the key and Taiheng knew its location, their contributions were equal. They could split the ‘Shirou’ or, if not, the Kushan Sect would take it and compensate Taiheng.
“…My sect is indeed impoverished and cannot provide proper compensation. But I, Yan Qing, swear to expose those who have harmed the elders here.”
Yan Qing’s words were sincerely heartfelt.
“After all, the Kushan Sect has also been victimized. We will seek revenge, and everyone need not worry that we will only talk without action. Although this might seem opportunistic, it’s the most realistic guarantee I can offer.”
Everyone in the audience: “……”
So, they’re sharing a common enemy? No need to be so candid.
Yet, this young descendant of the Yan Clan almost exposed everything about the Kushan Sect—
Before anyone could bring up the mystery of the stolen ‘key to the Shirou’, Yan Qing promptly apologized. Mentioning the sect’s dire state, the Kushan Sect’s desperation to save their Sect Master made them take bold actions. To show sincerity, he invited warriors from all walks of life to see the real appearance of the ‘Shirou’.
Yan Qing’s words seemed genuine, making the crowd feel his decisions were justified. They, bearing the title of the righteous sects, didn’t really desire the ‘Shirou’, and thus didn’t blame the Kushan Sect too much.
The resolution was straightforward, leaving no room for the Kushan Sect’s mischief. The old man didn’t say much and left the stage.
“With the Alliance Leader now decided, I present Yan Qing of the Kushan Sect!” The fat leader of Jinyu took a deep breath and struck the huge gong three times.
As the gong sounded, Yan Qing’s wristband grew warm and transformed into a jade bracelet, the symbol of the Martial Alliance Leader. It now rested on his wrist.
It felt like a dream.
Touching the smooth jade bracelet, Yan Qing felt a mix of emotions, and overwhelming fatigue followed. Were it not for the many eyes watching him, he would have loved to collapse and sleep right there.
Several members of the demonic sect seemed satisfied with the outcome and left without any further disputes. A bizarre day passed, and all seemed settled.
That evening, a horse carriage slowly moved eastward.
The night was long and full of dreams. The leader of the Jinyu Group, renowned for his decisiveness and swift actions, had prepared horses and carriages before nightfall. He also selected more than a dozen disciples from the Jinyu Group to accompany him. Apart from members of the Taiheng Sect in the convoy, most of them were well-known figures in the martial world. Every disciple from the Yueshui Pavilion joined without exception, and they were so eager that they might as well have clung to the underside of the carriages.
Only Taiheng knew the location of the “Shirou”. Hence, the caravan was personally led by Qu Duanyun, veering far from the vicinity of Yidu.
First, to guard against villains, and second, out of sheer curiosity, various sects sent their masters to witness the emergence of this legendary item. Once the Martial Alliance Leader had spoken, the general situation was set. If anyone dared to act out of line, they would make an enemy of the entire martial world.
As the new alliance leader, Yan Qing was allotted a carriage. Unfortunately, having always led a simple life, he felt uncomfortable alone in the spacious carriage. So, he invited the master and disciple of the Kushan Sect to join him.
Surrounded by people in the carriage, Shi Jingzhi could only have porridge. Fortunately, the current situation for the Kushan Sect had improved. Yin Ci had specifically prepared pear syrup candies and sheep liver soup, meant for “nourishing the body”, and fed them bit by bit to the almost withered Sect Master Shi.
Sect Master Shi seemed to want to suppress his appetite with other matters. His eyes constantly glanced over Yin Ci’s lips. Sadly, with Yan Qing, the new alliance leader, sitting right there, they couldn’t very well ask him to leave the carriage.
Moreover, Yan Qing seemed to snap out of his daze, his face full of concern.
“Something’s not right. A’Si has never been gone this long. He even took Lord Bai with him,” Yan Qing said, looking lost. “Whenever he left before, he always informed me.”
Shi Jingzhi and Yin Ci exchanged glances. Sect Master Shi took a sip of tea, then some sheep liver soup, and said, “A few days ago, Su Si approached me. He said that Qu Duanyun is crafty and might have discovered his identity. Rather than being caught off guard, he wanted to lay low for a while and return once everything settled.”
Upon hearing this, Yan Qing’s spirits sank even lower. “If that’s the case, why didn’t he tell me? Now that I’m the leader, shouldn’t he return?”
Yin Ci nonchalantly replied, “Su Si has always done as he pleases. Perhaps the Chigou Sect had urgent matters that needed him, and with the martial arts conference taking place, he didn’t have time to say goodbye. You have more pressing matters to attend to tomorrow, stop worrying about this.”
Yan Qing’s worries shifted direction as he caressed the longevity lock on his sword and drifted into his thoughts.
Outside the carriage, another person was deep in thought.
Qu Duanyun rode at the forefront of the caravan. He felt eyes on him from all directions, with Shi Zhongyu closely monitoring his every move. Things had deviated from his plans, and now he was on the defensive. Worse, he couldn’t establish contact with the Immortal Assembly.
One wrong move led to another.
Regarding the “Twin Roots in the Tranquil Heart Pill”, suspicion hadn’t yet fallen on him. However, as one of the orthodox sects, Taiheng definitely needed to provide some explanations. Not to mention, Shi Zhongyu had the Yang Reversal Token, giving her authority akin to a sect leader. Taiheng might not be keen on following Qu Duanyun’s commands.
His situation was dire, and he didn’t even have an opportunity to vent his frustrations.
Shi Zhongyu rode a white horse, staying only half a step behind Qu Duanyun. Seeing his strained expression, she sighed. “Duanyun, we’ve known each other for a long time… If you turned back now, it wouldn’t be too late.”
Qu Duanyun tightened his grip on the reins.
“Turn back?” He asked with a mix of amusement and anger. “I haven’t taken the wrong path. What is there to turn back from?”
Shi Zhongyu frowned slightly, pursing her lips.
Qu Duanyun desperately needed to vent. Faced with an old acquaintance, he couldn’t hold his tongue. “Different paths lead to different destinations. We’ve seen such situations before. If Senior Sister intends to persuade me, you better not.”
“Similar situations?” Shi Zhongyu was puzzled.
“Qi Xundao, despite his old age and declining mental faculties, was respected and held his position due to his revered reputation. Even during his last moments, there were people like Senior Sister who spent time and resources to keep him alive. You and I both know that such actions were at best ‘righteous’, but they brought no benefit to Taiheng.”
Touching on Shi Zhongyu’s pain point, her expression instantly chilled. “Qu Duanyun, even if talking about a deceased elder, it’s not appropriate to mention their name directly.”
“You always focus on these emotional aspects.”
Qu Duanyun didn’t even bother smiling.
“The seasons change, plants thrive and wither. It’s survival of the fittest. Birth, aging, sickness, and death are natural occurrences in the world. To gather a sect’s wealth just to buy empty fame is nothing but a narrow-minded act. If we can’t agree on this point, then we have nothing more to discuss.”
Shi Zhongyu suppressed her raging anger and calmly continued, “Alright, let’s not discuss it. I just want to know, why do you go out of your way to make things difficult for Shi Jingzhi, a man on his deathbed?”
If Qu Duanyun didn’t want the Shirou, based on his past behavior, he would likely have given it to Shi Jingzhi to earn some goodwill. But Shi Zhongyu had observed for a long time, and he hadn’t even pretended to do so.
Now, with Shi Jingzhi not present, Qu Duanyun’s disdain was evident. Shi Zhongyu had known him for many years and had never seen him target someone so pointedly.
Upon hearing these words, Qu Duanyun couldn’t help but laugh coldly. “Senior Sister, do you think Shi Jingzhi was a ‘respectable person’ at that time?”
The topic suddenly shifted, and the question was peculiar. Shi Zhongyu was momentarily stunned.
Shi Jingzhi wasn’t a vile scoundrel. She saw this clearly. But if one were to say that he understood great principles or harbored grand ambitions, he didn’t quite fit the bill. Shi Jingzhi wasn’t the kind-hearted person who’d respond to others’ pleas. He had a sharp, almost ruthless cunningness about him, always preferring to be straightforward about costs, calculating deals with his fox eyes.
Speaking of this martial arts conference’s counteraction, the Kushan Sect had informed her in advance. Knowing the other party’s deep and intricate plans, even as a “co-conspirator”, she couldn’t help but feel a chill for a moment.
Even so, Shi Jingzhi was still a reliable partner. Once he made a promise, he would never break it.
Would that qualify him as a “respectable person”?
“I don’t know,” Shi Zhongyu answered honestly.
“Then let me ask another question.” Qu Duanyun turned his head to look at her. “Would you want such an ‘immortal’?”
‘…Probably not,’ Shi Zhongyu thought. But to be fair…
“What’s the use of an immortal?” she snorted. “If the heavens had eyes, Master wouldn’t have suffered such a painful death. If there really are immortals in this world, I’d like some justice.”
“That’s why I have nothing to say to you.” Qu Duanyun, in a rare moment, looked somewhat dispirited. “You desire so much, but you’re so mundane. I’m not even as good as him…”
Seeing his erratic attitude, Shi Zhongyu didn’t want to continue the argument. She rode her horse forward in silence, heading straight for their destination.
When they arrived, everyone couldn’t help but gasp. It seemed like destiny had chosen the place.
The Shirou was stored in Juyi Valley of Kushan.
It was springtime, and the landscape was covered in fresh green. As the sun was about to set, the convoy stopped outside Juyi Valley and set up a simple camp.
“There are many monsters in Juyi Valley. It’s inconvenient to move around at night,” Jin Lan instructed. “Wait for the sunrise tomorrow. When our energy is at its peak, we’ll retrieve the ‘Shirou’ together.”
Yan Qing, seeing old acquaintances, wanted to chat. But Jin Lan only gave him an awkward smile upon seeing him. “I’m also from Taiheng. I might have been influenced by that villain. Now that you’re the Alliance Leader, you should be more cautious.”
“I…” Yan Qing realized the awkwardness—he had just ousted the head of someone’s sect, so there wasn’t much of an atmosphere for small talk.
Seeing Yan Qing’s hesitation, Jin Lan sighed. “Actually, I’m quite happy you became the Alliance Leader… Yan Qing, you seem to be close to Su Si?”
“Yes.”
“Be careful.” Jin Lan hesitated for a moment, then whispered, “I’ve had someone see him go out alone, buying sharp weapons and magical items. He’s steeped in malevolence; I fear he has ulterior motives.”
Yan Qing felt displeased, but knowing Jin Lan meant no harm, he didn’t lash out. “A’Si isn’t that kind of person. Besides, he doesn’t have money to buy weapons.”
Jin Lan shook his head with a complicated expression and said no more.
Yan Qing’s attempt at conversation was a failure, and he felt downcast. He trudged back to the Kushan Sect’s tent—
“I didn’t expect the ‘Shirou’ to be here,” Shi Jingzhi remarked with mixed feelings. “What is this, fate letting us revisit our old haunts?”
Yin Ci chuckled. “Last time I saw you here, you were shorter than my leg. Little Mute, are you going to pick flowers for me this time?”
Yan Qing was utterly confused. What were they talking about? Why couldn’t he understand anything?
Who would’ve thought that Shi Jingzhi would continue with this seemingly ambiguous talk, speaking in a teasing tone, “Why wouldn’t I? If I see that thing again, watch me pluck it bare. But in exchange, you’ll have to feed me the best tender roasted fish.”
Yin Ci’s laughter became even more hearty, and Yan Qing had never heard him laugh like that before. Shi Jingzhi spoke with a teasing, relaxed tone, as if his life wasn’t in danger and the world had no troubles.
It seemed everyone had their own secrets. And him, having just received the title of Martial Alliance Leader, was alone and at a loss. If only A’Si were here…
Haa…
Yan Qing ultimately didn’t enter the tent. He resorted to his usual method to deal with anxiety—the new Martial Alliance Leader, with a serious face, began to reorganize the belongings of the Kushan Sect. He even rummaged through his own bundle, meticulously reorganizing everything.
When he picked up a small wooden box, Yan Qing’s movements suddenly halted.
Something was amiss.
The cloth around the wooden box was tied differently than he remembered, as if someone had opened it. The weight of the box also felt lighter, as though much of its content was gone.
This was the money box of the Kushan Sect. As the person in charge of the money, Yan Qing broke out in cold sweat instantly. He carefully opened the box and felt a chill in his heart—
Sure enough, one of the silver notes had disappeared. With trembling hands, he counted the remaining amount. All the missing money was his personal savings, neither more nor less, exactly sixty-seven taels of silver.
This package had always been shared between him and Su Si. Su Si never touched his personal belongings, but he was aware of where Yan Qing kept his money… Could it be that the sixty-seven taels were taken by Su Si?
Yan Qing held the wooden box in mid-air, his face slowly tightening.
If Su Si really took the money, his “departure” would not be as simple as avoiding trouble temporarily. Yan Qing packed the money box just as it was, and the bitterness in his heart disappeared in an instant.
At that moment, his heart was filled with concern.
The next morning, everything was as usual. The sky was clear with gentle winds and soft clouds and the ground smelled fresh. Golden morning light filtered through the leaves, illuminating the mist in the woods, and all was peaceful.
Under the guidance of the Taiheng Sect members, everyone geared up and slowly moved deeper into Juyi Valley. Hours later, the group stopped in front of a pile of scattered rocks. Whether it was good luck or not, they hadn’t encountered any monsters during their journey.
Speaking of this rocky area, both Yin Ci and Shi Jingzhi had some memories.
Only thin weeds grew here, leaving most of the area barren. With no food available, no creatures, especially no beasts, would choose to come here. Aside from being excessively desolate, there was nothing unusual about this place.
When they were previously in Juyi Valley, Yin Ci disliked the scenery and didn’t stay long. Shi Jingzhi, as a child, hated this gray and monotonous stone forest and wouldn’t even play hide and seek here.
Who would have thought that after all these years, they would return to this place and stand here again.
“The Shirou is buried underground. My sect has already dug it up. Please continue forward,” Qu Duanyun said in a steady and polite tone, though he looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes.
“Guests are here. Disable the formation!”
Following the order of Sect Master Qu, the Taiheng disciples deactivated the blinding technique. The view inside the rocks suddenly revealed itself to everyone—
In the center of the rocks was a half-circular deep pit.
The soil in the pit was fine and damp, reflecting a blood-red hue under the morning sun. At the bottom of the pit was a small room made of clear glass. It had been cleaned thoroughly by the Taiheng Sect, with not a speck of dirt in sight. Many spells and incantations were engraved on it, shimmering under the sunlight.
It looked like a delicate tomb made of glass.
Inside the glass room, the sight was full of life. Lush, vibrant vines filled half of the space, looking as if they were made of jade, bringing a sense of comfort at first glance.
The vines intertwined on a platform, where a peach-shaped fruit rested.
The fruit appeared fresh and delicate, with an enticing color. The fruit’s stem was still attached to the vine, and its skin held a pool of semi-transparent juice. Under the sunlight, it looked exceptionally exquisite, unlike anything from this world.
Even separated by thick glass, the scent of the fruit somehow permeated out. Its indescribable aroma instantly overwhelmed all other senses, making even the finest delicacies in the world pale in comparison. If anyone had doubts because of its appearance, once they smelled it, no one cared about the minor details—this divine entity was undoubtedly the Shirou!
Yin Ci looked at Shi Jingzhi with concern.
Considering Shi Jingzhi’s overwhelming desire to live, even just as a snack, it might be impossible for him to restrain his appetite. The scent alone had many seasoned martial artists, with iron-willed determination, in a daze.
Shi Jingzhi’s face turned flush, and a hint of bloodlust appeared in his eyes. But he just took a few deep breaths, seeming still conscious.
“Don’t worry,” Shi Jingzhi whispered into Yin Ci’s ear, taking advantage of everyone’s distraction with the Shirou. “I’ve endured worse. I’m used to it.”
Seeing that Shi Jingzhi had no intention of hurting himself, Yin Ci felt relieved. He stroked Shi Jingzhi’s hair and teasingly said, “It seems you’ve mastered the ‘Purifying Words’ well. We should find a time to reward you properly.”
Their faces showed relaxed flirting, but their hands under the sleeves were gripping tightly. Only when Yin Ci reassured him did Shi Jingzhi reluctantly let go.
[Go,] Yin Ci conveyed silently. [I’ll protect you.]
Qu Duanyun didn’t notice their actions. He gazed at the Shirou with complex emotions. “This glass room is extremely sturdy, and my sect couldn’t open it. Since Sect Master Shi has the key, perhaps you could retrieve it.”
Shi Jingzhi patted his face, the blood color in his eyes fading slightly. Afflicted with a serious illness, he wasn’t mobile. Yin Ci pushed him all the way on the wooden chair towards the glass room. Upon closer inspection, in addition to the intricate spells, there were also vivid bas-reliefs carved on the glass. All of these bas-reliefs were faces, each with closed eyes and a slight smile.
It was really Yan Budu’s style.
In the center of the group of faces, one face had an eye open. Unfortunately, that eye socket was empty, with just a recess, waiting for someone to complete it with an eyeball.
The aroma emanating from that eye socket was extremely strong. When they got closer, the fragrance was even more intoxicating, making one’s heart restless and mouth salivating. Shi Jingzhi held his breath, his hand holding the jade eye trembling slightly.
With everyone watching, he took a long time to successfully fit the jade eye into the recess.
Let’s see.
Shi Jingzhi stared at the face with the open eye. He tried to ignore the scent that kept drilling into his nose. His hands became as cold as ice, to the point of almost convulsing.
Yan Budu, as your kin, let me take a good look. After a century, what have you left for this world?
Click.
With this soft sound, a sourceless chuckle echoed around, as if in response.
In an instant, the world changed.
The originally enticing fragrance suddenly turned into a pungent, bloody smell, causing many to retch. However, compared to other changes, this was minor—
Just like originally on Zongwu Mountain, countless gray-red “bare branches” rose from the ground, their dark red roots moving like fish. Atop the bare branches, the fleshy wrinkles were extremely clear, shining like living creatures. These branches crowded the forest, stretching and swaying in the morning sun. They were numerous and vigorous, and from a vantage point on the mountain, one couldn’t see the boundary of this eerie “flesh forest”.
Strange things densely surrounded them, bringing a feeling of oppression and suffocation. A breeze carried wave after wave of the foul smell, making people dizzy.
Screams erupted from the crowd. It seemed that many more people than just Shi Jingzhi could see them. Jin Lan sat on the ground, while the masters grouped together in shock. Shi Zhongyu instantly drew her sword, while Qu Duanyun stood among the myriad of bare branches, looking somewhat lost.
Within the branches, Yin Ci lost his immortal appearance, turning back into the eerie “idol” made of blood and roots. However, this time, Yin Ci could see himself clearly.
He stared at his horrifying hands, almost forgetting to breathe. Even without a mirror, he could imagine his abnormal appearance. This time, there was no fear or panic in Yin Ci’s heart; just sheer anger—what had He Cheng’an done to him?
However, at this moment, thanks to the Shirou, no one noticed his change.
The center of attention, the Shirou, had changed in appearance and smell.
The moment the jade eye was installed, the vines inside the glass room changed color, turning into the sticky gray-red similar to the bare branches. They wriggled slowly, occasionally making soft noises of friction.
Surrounded by these “fleshy vines”, the Shirou no longer looked like a tempting celestial fruit. It changed from emerald green to an unsightly purple-red, emitting a slight heat and looking like an organ just taken out of an animal’s body. Amid the purple-red flesh, there were hundreds of tiny eyes without whites. They were all pitch black, occasionally blinking, looking in unknown directions.
This was the “immortal object” that had caused turmoil in the martial world and had been contested for by many.
The sky remained intact, the sunny day was still sunny, and the forest was still lush and green. There was no shaking or loud noise, and the sounds of wind and birds were still present. Against the backdrop of the scene before them, everything seemed eerily quiet.
What is going on?
From shock, people turned to panic, unsure if what they were witnessing was a nightmare, a spell, or a terrifying reality. The surroundings changed drastically, and compared to the gigantic eerie things, people felt as insignificant as ants in a storm. Even though there were many masters present, they were just a few more powerful ants.
The feeling of helplessness was maddening.
Even the disciples of the Yueshui Pavilion, who had seen much, lost their composure, crouching and staring only at the blood-red mud beneath their feet. The people of the Jinyu Group were in even greater panic, fainting left and right. The foul smell of the Shirou was now mixed with the stench of urine.
In this chaos and madness, Yin Ci hesitated for a moment, then leapt up, rushing towards the sky through the branches.
Looking down, the barren mountains, the surrounding towns, and even the horizon in the distance, were all covered with dense, uniquely shaped “bare branches”. Human towns were nestled among them, looking like tiny pebbles beneath grass.
This sight was overwhelming.
Regarding the Shirou as an “immortal object”, its energy was even more abundant than the muyan stones used to forge the Sword of Compassion. Therefore, using the Shirou to power the jade eye meant there was no fear of exhausting its energy, unlike atop Zongwu Mountain, where spells could only be powered momentarily. It was hard to say whether the “clue” left on the Sword of Compassion was the demonic lord’s last sentiment or a hint given out of ostentation.
Or perhaps, it was a bit of both.
Although he didn’t know the origin of the jade eye, Yin Ci was quite certain that this was what Yan Budu truly wanted them to see.
He wanted them to witness the true appearance of this world, the true form of the Shirou. From the start at the Ghost Tomb, this had all been a thorough prank. Even if turned into a handful of bones, that person still wished to mock the mortals blindly chasing after the Shirou and the “immortals” who sent the Shirou into this world without knowing their own whereabouts.
Yin Ci gently descended, stopping on the treetop. He took a deep breath and touched the nearest bare branch. The fine roots on the bare branch immediately wrapped around his hand affectionately, quivering as if they were playing with him.
Yan Budu only expressed malice without providing a definite answer. That guy just kept mocking to his heart’s content, probably without knowing the real truth. He did see another aspect of this world…
But what exactly were these things?
Under the tall tree, Shi Jingzhi didn’t move his jade eye, allowing this vision to persist. Without waiting for Yin Ci to return to his side, he removed the Shirou and held it in his hand. “According to our agreement, I’ll take this thing first.”
It was as if he was unaffected by the terrifying scene before him.
The Shirou wriggled in Shi Jingzhi’s palm, its numerous eyes blinking even faster.
The surroundings were filled with eerie sights, and the crowd was still in shock and daze. Even those who managed to retain some sanity didn’t know how to respond. Only Qu Duanyun’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, seeming to want to say something.
Suddenly, a shadow flashed, and before Qu Duanyun could speak, a burst of blood exploded in front of him.
Shi Jingzhi had been deeply slashed in the throat, with blood gushing out instantly. The Shirou in his hand vanished in a moment, taken by the attacker.
“What righteous sects? Nothing but a bunch of cowards. Just a little scare, and they’re all panicking.”
The man laughed, putting away his dagger. A pendant gleamed on the dagger’s hilt, clearly a mountain ghost coin.
Yan Qing was the first to recover from the vision, staring in disbelief at the scene before him—Su Si was perched like a bird on the back of a wooden chair, having just cleanly slit Shi Jingzhi’s throat.
Su Si didn’t look at the surrounding bare branches, nor at the strange-looking Shirou in his hand. He stared intently at Yan Qing, his eyes as black as ink.
