The Chairman was slightly overweight, wearing a dark golden tie and meticulously styled hair. His speech was full of reason and emotion, which made him appear persuasive.
Every word he spoke seemed reasonable and heartfelt, but Huang Ze felt nauseated.
However, after that, Xing Conglian uttered only one word, with a very short tone.
He said, “Oh.”
Huang Ze was stunned, as were the Chairman, and all the employees present.
Xing Conglian remained calm and confident, overlooking the struggling ants at his feet without needing to make any unnecessary reactions.
The Chairman stood awkwardly in place. After a brief moment of silence, the Chairman extended his hand, revealing his wristwatch, and said with righteousness, “Captain Xing, please handcuff me.”
The entire room fell silent. Zhourui’s employees sat down, each harboring their own intentions, all looking at Xing Conglian, waiting for his response.
The current situation seemed to have turned into a competition of who could say the right words and gain the trust of the employees, as whoever succeeded would emerge victorious.
However, Xing Conglian had no intention of winning. He adjusted his posture, leaned forward, and looked at the police officers present. “Didn’t you hear what I said earlier?”
The police officers responsible for the arrest swiftly escorted the members of the Nao Kangning team away from their seats.
At that moment, a deep male voice cut through the chaotic atmosphere.
“Stop!”
In the corner of the room, a middle-aged man stood up. He was wearing a white lab coat with a pen tucked into his front chest pocket, displaying the demeanor of a traditional scholar. Moreover, his hair was mostly gray, which didn’t match his age.
A smile appeared on Chairman Zhou’s face as he also looked towards the source of the voice.
“Who are you?” Xing Conglian calmly asked, seemingly unsurprised that someone like Li Zheng would stand up.
“I’m Li Zheng. I led the development of Nao Kangning,” the man said seriously. “I am the head and chief engineer of the Coreda Laboratory under Zhourui.”
“Mr. Li.” Xing Conglian paused, giving him the opportunity to continue.
“If there are indeed any problems with Nao Kangning, the main culprit should be me,” Li Zheng said. “I led the development of this drug that you refer to as a psychotropic substance. It turns people into uncontrollable demons, and yet I failed to discover its strong side effects. I cannot shirk my responsibility…”
As Li Zheng spoke, he walked towards the center of the conference room and stood in the vacant seat, facing Xing Conglian. Huang Ze furrowed his brow tighter and tighter. They needed to investigate the case thoroughly, not find a scapegoat. If a second company executive voluntarily confessed, it could inadvertently turn into the police pressuring Zhourui’s employees to admit guilt, which would be very unsightly.
Xing Conglian leaned against the back of his chair, raised an eyebrow, and asked, “So what?”
“I have a question.” Li Zheng pushed his glasses up, hands in his pockets, and stared at the rotating compound on the projection screen, as if organizing his thoughts.
“I didn’t fully understand earlier. Are you saying that the substance that drives people crazy is TERN? It’s identical to it? Are you sure?”
Xing Conglian glanced at Xiao Zhan, signaling him to answer the question.
Mr. Xiao Zhan’s response was unexpected. He pointed to the 20 vacant seats, mustering his courage, and said, “I won’t speak to you while you’re standing here.”
Li Zheng didn’t expect this move. He followed Xiao Zhan’s pointing finger and looked over.
In the next moment, Li Zheng took a step forward and walked towards the 20 vacant seats, as if it was a very easy decision.
Watching Li Zheng’s figure, cracks finally appeared on Chairman Zhou’s meticulously maintained face.
The morning sun outside had fully risen, casting a brilliant path. The scientist with graying hair didn’t look back.
Sitting in the sunlight, Li Zheng first spoke to Xing Conglian. “Honestly, I don’t have any inside information to share. If it is indeed my responsibility, you don’t need to reduce my sentence. I’m sitting here because I want to figure out what’s going on.”
Xing Conglian looked at him and nodded in agreement.
The slightly overweight Chairman clenched his teeth and restrained himself as best he could.
“Chairman Zhou, I’ll just sit for a while. Once I understand the issue, I’ll come back. You can take a seat for now.” Li Zheng realized this and politely addressed his boss before finally turning to Xiao Zhan. “Can you answer my earlier question now?”
“I’m certain. The two compounds do indeed have exactly the same structural formula,” Mr. Xiao Zhan said.
A faint worry finally appeared on Li Zheng’s previously calm face. He pondered for a moment and said, “But I am equally certain that in numerous clinical trials, TERN itself didn’t have such powerful toxic side effects. How is this possible?”
“I… I don’t know… but that’s what the analysis results showed.” Xiao Zhan became hesitant again, as it was part of his nature.
“Speaking of which, there are so many types of problematic drugs, involving hundreds and thousands of compounds. Why did you specifically compare it to TERN?”
“Well, it’s the result of deduction,” Xiao Zhan felt somewhat embarrassed, as if he had copied the answer in advance. “From comparing the old and new components of Nordren and Nao Kangning, I found that you had exclusively modified TERN, so I thought the problem lay here.”
Xiao Zhan’s voice was soft and timid, but the accusation in that statement was clear and severe, sending shivers down people’s spines.
Li Zheng remained silent for a long time. Fear and anxiety filled his expression as he looked at the many people in front of him—his colleagues, superiors, and, of course, his boss. The scientist’s hand, resting on the table, tightly clenched into a fist, as if considering countless possibilities to absolve his company, but ultimately defeated by this simple and straightforward statement.
He finally turned to his own boss and asked, “Didn’t you say that the so-called drug problem in the news was Shen Lian poisoning our company’s medication during the production process?”
“The internal investigation results of the company do confirm that,” Chairman Zhou replied.
“But how did you find out about Shen Lian’s involvement in the poisoning so quickly?” Li Zheng persisted in a posture as if he were the true presiding judge.
Xing Conglian had been listening with his arms crossed the whole time, remaining quiet.
“We have already submitted the relevant information to the police. Whether we can disclose it publicly in such a setting still requires the approval of the police,” the chairman humbly responded.
“That’s fine,” Xing Conglian said.
Chairman Zhou took a deep breath and spoke slowly. “Dr. Tan Kang has a smart pen that automatically records writing data and converts it into electronic documents. After his death, his notebook was stolen, but we found that pen. It recorded his suspicions of Shen Lian’s poisoning. Afterward, our company conducted an internal investigation. The surveillance records from the day before Dr. Tan Kang’s death were erased, but we managed to restore all the entry and exit surveillance records, which revealed Shen Lian’s presence. Finally, we submitted this as evidence to the police and issued a public warning.”
Chairman Zhou deliberately emphasized that the final document was a converted electronic document, not handwritten. In other words, the content of the document was actually very easy to forge. This line of reasoning had likely been nested repeatedly within the upper levels of Zhourui, even among the staff, and had been confirmed before being presented.
Wang Chao kept his head lowered, apparently not finding any issues in the statement.
Li Zheng took a pen out of his pocket and casually grabbed a shopping receipt, writing and doodling on the back. Finally, he tapped the table, saying, “Since TERN has a problem, let’s reverse engineer it in three stages. The first stage is the safety period when Nao Kangning was approved for clinical trials and market release; the second stage is a blank period, which involves tracking the repeated clinical data; the third stage is the Nordren modification phase. Chairman, please tell me. Why did you change the structural formula of TERN in the new drug Nordren?”
“That was Dr. Tan Kang’s suggestion.” Chairman Zhou paused, then said, “You are the pharmaceutical experts I rely on, while I am merely a manager. You can find out the purpose behind changing the structural formula of TERN by looking through the reports. I am only responsible for signing off.”
Chairman Zhou’s attitude was sincere and quite convincing, shifting the blame to the late Dr. Tan Kang. Although it seemed suspicious, no one could point out any problems with this.
“Does anyone on the Tan Kang team know about it?” Li Zheng tapped the table and looked at the crowded seats across from him. “Xiao Chen, you were part of my team and later went to Tan Kang’s team. Speak up.”
Li Zheng now completely resembled a meeting in the laboratory or a mentor guiding students, casually singling out people.
The researcher who was called upon stood up, looking very awkward. “Professor Li, what do you want me to say?”
“Just speak freely. Tan Kang discovered that there was a problem with the medication I supervised the development of, and they adjusted the TERN structural formula. Although the internal research and development progress of the team was kept confidential, there should have been discussions internally. There must be meeting records of when and why the change was made, right?”
“Dr. Tan Kang did independently propose changing the structural formula of TERN, but I don’t remember the specific reasons. However, all the meeting records and project progress copies were taken by the police yesterday,” Xiao Chen answered.
Li Zheng looked at Mr. Xiao Zhan and asked, “So all the information is with you. Have you sorted through it?”
“The reason was improvement,” Mr. Xiao Zhan replied.
“It’s too abrupt.” Li Zheng frowned and contemplated. “Is there a specific time frame?”
Mr. Xiao Zhan said, “I had the same thought and summarized it yesterday.”
Wang Chao opened a new document, and a clear timeline appeared on the screen.
2011.1 Nao Kangning improvement project initiated
2011.6 New ingredient introduced
2012.2 TERN structural formula modified
2012.3 Entered animal experimentation phase
2013.2 Entered clinical trials
2016.2 Completion of three-year monitoring period for the improved drug, entered approval process
2016.10 Obtained approval and market authorization
“After the modification of the TERN structural formula, animal experiments were immediately conducted?” Li Zheng pressed his lips together. “That’s too fast. Was Tan Kang so confident?”
Everyone present was an industry professional, and this timeline, clearly summarized by Mr. Xiao Zhan, finally sparked low murmurs and discussions throughout the room.
“The purpose is too specific,” someone said.
“The approval process followed the procedure for modified drugs, so no wonder it was so fast…” someone else commented.
But finally, someone asked the most crucial question, “Why was this project suddenly initiated?”
As soon as this question was raised, the noisy conference room fell silent once again, and everyone looked at Chairman Zhou, who had a firm grasp of the situation.
Chairman Zhou had endured until now and had to continue to endure. He tapped his head and suddenly realized. “If that’s the case, could Tan Kang be an accomplice of Shen Lian? They conspired together, and Shen Lian killing Tan Kang was an internal conflict?”
The wait was excruciating. Time ticked away, but the doors of the conference room remained unopened, and Xing Conglian was nowhere to be seen.
Most of the people grew restless once again. A mixture of annoyance and unease started to rise. Zhourui Pharmaceutical had already gained the upper hand by pinning everything on Xing Conglian, so why were they still so anxious?
Huang Ze sneered, and at that moment, his phone vibrated lightly. Su Fengzi, who seemingly hadn’t been asleep at all, acted swiftly, checked his phone, and then stood up before everyone else. He said to everyone in the conference room, “Let’s go. He’s waiting for us in Room 303.”
……
Room 303 was another conference room.
The reason for moving the Zhourui executives from one conference room to another was simple—room 303 downstairs was larger and could accommodate more people.
Reluctantly, Huang Ze led the Zhourui executives downstairs. Along the way, he had to use some means to suppress the dissenters, but when they pushed open the door, everyone inside and outside froze in shock for a few seconds.
The office was packed with people. Xing Conglian had managed to gather almost all the mid-level and higher-level management personnel of the company, including a few elderly individuals with snow-white hair. Huang Ze recognized one of them as a renowned chemist who oversaw one of Zhourui’s pharmaceutical laboratories.
Everyone in their seats looked at each other, unable to comprehend the situation. Finally, Xing Conglian’s voice broke the frozen state.
He sat at the head of the table, pointing to the empty seats and saying to everyone outside the room, “Come in.”
Huang Ze took the first step, noticing that Xing Conglian’s tone was the same as when Su Fengzhi said “let’s go”—casual and self-assured, as if victory was already in his grasp.
Huang Ze surveyed the entire room.
Room 303 was filled with many people, and all the seats were occupied. The conference table was split, with chairs featuring deep blue cushioned backs facing each other, resembling a courtroom. However, the number of seats on each side was unequal. The left side of the conference room was crowded with nearly one hundred and eighty chairs, while the other side had…
Huang Ze quickly counted. The right side had only twenty chairs.
He looked toward the end of the conference room. Xing Conglian’s assistant had set up a table in the upper left corner of the room, and both Xing Conglian and Xiao Zhan sat in front of their computers, resembling court clerks. Xing Conglian himself was the presiding judge of this courtroom.
Huang Ze couldn’t understand what Xing Conglian was up to, but that didn’t prevent him from glancing coldly at his Uncle Shi.
As the middle-aged man entered the conference room, everyone who had been whispering among themselves in their seats stood up simultaneously, showing a respectful demeanor. This simple gesture revealed the hierarchy within this large conference room.
And Uncle Shi seemed to enjoy this emperor-like treatment. Zhourui employees stepped aside, clearing a path for him to the center seat.
The Chairman entered slowly, and the employees on either side of him bowed respectfully. He humbly exchanged greetings with many employees, creating a friendly atmosphere as if it were an ordinary daily meeting within the company.
A group of people left the captain of the Criminal Investigation Division sitting at the head, ignored. Huang Ze glanced at Xing Conglian and noticed that he was leaning back in his chair, one hand resting on the table, in a casual posture. However, he seemed to be in a very unpleasant mood.
In that moment, Huang Ze didn’t know why he disregarded everyone else but was concerned about Xing Conglian’s expression. After all, in various respects, he was Xing Conglian’s superior.
But, to be honest, in this crowded conference room, he didn’t have much time to figure out his own mindset. Just as the middle-aged man in a suit was about to take his seat, Xing Conglian suddenly spoke up, interrupting the lively atmosphere on the left side. “I didn’t ask you to sit.”
The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense.
The Chairman adjusted his suit collar and didn’t show any anger. He turned his head to face Xing Conglian, slightly lowered his head, and looked down at him with a smile. He said, “Captain Xing, you seem a bit impulsive.”
However, Xing Conglian didn’t seem interested in having a good conversation with anyone from Zhourui. He didn’t even bother to look up and simply said to the hundred or so Zhourui employees standing in a line, “Anyone willing to cooperate with the police and provide evidence of your company’s deliberate concealment of the side effects of Nao Kangning and disregard for public safety can sit over there.” Xing Conglian pointed to the twenty vacant seats on the right side of the conference room and paused before adding, “There are twenty spots.”
His tone was calm, but everyone, including Huang Ze, was stunned.
Quick and direct—there were no better words to describe it.
However, the only response to Xing Conglian came in the form of the light sound of chairs being occupied. The Chairman of Zhourui Pharmaceutical took the first seat, his chair gliding across the floor, and the rest of the employees followed suit, sitting down in an orderly manner, displaying unity.
Xing Conglian appeared composed, but there was a profound coldness in his gaze. He looked at the hundred or so people on the left side of the conference room and asked, “Has the development team of ‘Nao Kangning’ all arrived?”
Xing Conglian played his cards quickly, and everyone looked at each other. The Chairman of Zhourui Pharmaceutical placed his hand on the table and lightly tapped it.
Employees scattered throughout the room raised their hands, of different ages, some even still rubbing their eyes, as if they didn’t understand why they were summoned to the scene.
“Wasn’t it a poisoning incident? The mastermind has already been caught. Why mention Nao Kangning…” someone straightforwardly asked.
Xing Conglian raised his hand to interrupt the person’s questioning and nodded at the two young individuals sitting in the role of court clerks, who appeared nervous.
Wang Chao received the signal and displayed a rotating molecular structure on the projector.
As if they had rehearsed it beforehand, Xiao Zhan recited, “Through investigation, it has been found that the substance injected by Shen Lian to Consultant Lin Chen shares consistency with the neurotoxic drug that caused the riot at the barbecue stall the previous night, namely the base component TERN in your company’s Nao Kangning.”
Xiao Zhan finished speaking in one breath, and everyone in the conference room looked in a daze at the rotating molecular structure on the screen. He cleared his throat, turned his head, and pointed at the screen, saying, “This is it.”
At that moment, Xing Conglian casually put his hand down, and the back door opened, allowing a team of police officers to enter.
“Take all those who raised their hands back to the police station, verify the list, and issue arrest warrants for those who didn’t attend.” Xing Conglian’s tone remained unchanged, as if he were describing the most ordinary thing.
As soon as these words were spoken, the atmosphere became intense, and many people took out their phones to take pictures. Someone even shouted loudly, “We don’t know anything. You can’t just arrest us without any reason!”
Xing Conglian had been observing coldly all this time until a member of the Nao Kangning development team solemnly said, “He doesn’t have any relevant evidence. He’s just asking us to assist in the investigation. There’s nothing to fear.”
“Let me correct you on two points.” Xing Conglian didn’t stop the arrest operation but said, “First, this is not assistance in the investigation. The detention order has already been signed by the bureau chief. Second, instead of wasting time taking photos, it would be better for you to use your phones to search for keywords and see how many casualties have been caused by the medication your team has developed up until now. I suggest you don’t take it lightly.”
This was probably the longest sentence Xing Conglian had said since entering this office. He was serious, and when someone like Xing Conglian became serious, even if his tone was calm, it carried an irresistible authority.
As he spoke, several team members were already being escorted out of their seats. Most of them looked bewildered and didn’t seem to be feigning ignorance.
“There must be some problem here. Our Nao Kangning has undergone numerous animal experiments and several years of clinical trials. Since it passed the approval of the drug regulatory authority, it means the medication is completely safe. This is impossible. It’s impossible for the composition to be exactly the same!” A woman spoke rapidly, expressing her deep concern and nervousness. She appeared to be in her forties, perhaps a mother. “And even if you want an internal investigation, you need to give us some time!”
Upon hearing this, everyone in the team nodded in agreement, still holding onto a glimmer of hope.
“I’m afraid you haven’t understood the current situation,” Xing Conglian interrupted all protests once again. “I will reiterate: among you, some have known or heard about adverse reactions related to Nao Kangning, reported responsibly to their superiors, but received no response. Or some of you have received inquiries about the medication but couldn’t draw any conclusions and were required to keep it confidential. If any of these circumstances apply to you, you can choose to sit over there.” Xing Conglian finally revealed the truth about the twenty vacant seats. “The prosecution offers an opportunity for reduced punishment for the twenty individuals responsible for the related incidents. You all know how severe the impact of this event is. Following the precedent of cases of adverse reactions to vaccines, I guarantee that those responsible for the incidents will be sentenced to a minimum of three years in prison, not to mention the prohibition of employment. Are you all willing to jeopardize your livelihoods by sinking with this pharmaceutical company?”
Huang Ze suddenly looked up. He had thought Xing Conglian was genuinely investigating the case, but he hadn’t expected it to be a direct retaliation against Zhourui Pharmaceutical.
Starting from the bottom and toppling the top, Xing Conglian’s strategy couldn’t be clearer.
All the employees present began to look around, some focusing solely on themselves, others feigning indifference while keeping a close eye on their own thoughts. Some whispered to each other and secretly observed the twenty vacant seats. Each person had their own thoughts, contemplating and making judgments. In a subtle manner, Xing Conglian managed to unsettle the seemingly united employees.
Now, all that was left was for a leader to stand up, and the facade of false unity would crumble.
Huang Ze shifted his gaze to his Uncle Shi, knowing that his uncle wouldn’t let Xing Conglian have his way.
After contemplating for a few seconds, the ultimate decision-maker of the company finally spoke up, “Captain Xing, are you trying to incite our company’s employees to expose their superiors?”
Xing Conglian showed no intention of responding and simply leaned against the back of his chair, watching the Chairman.
His attitude was both unreasonable and arrogant, ultimately making everyone extremely uncomfortable.
However, in front of all the elite employees of the company, the Chairman of Zhourui showcased excellent acting skills. He let out a long sigh, stood up, and looked at Xing Conglian. “Since we have reached the point of whistleblowing, in the end, it is I who bears the responsibility. Captain Xing, just take me into custody directly and spare the others from any trouble.” The Chairman paused, then turned to address all the employees. “During our time working together at Zhourui, I want to express my gratitude for the dedication and hard work you have shown for the company, striving to overcome human diseases through research. I believe that none of you would turn a blind eye to the side effects of Nao Kangning. But I trust in all of you, while the police may not trust, or rather, cannot trust, because they need someone to hold responsible, and that someone can only be me. I have one request for all of you: please refrain from unnecessary infighting and damaging the relationships between colleagues and yourselves.”
While Yin Ren wandered outside and Zhong Chengshuo was consulting psychologist Qi Xin, the other people in the white room naturally couldn’t stay quiet.
After practicing continuously for several hours in the room, everyone could subconsciously imagine its existence and then had the freedom to move around comfortably. Fu Tianyi held Dr. Cat while everyone else gathered around him.
When the environmental pressure was high, having a soft and fluffy cat curled up in one’s arms was also a way to relax. Since this cat was their colleague and the most educated creature present, everyone could only watch attentively and dare not touch it.
“How did you come in?” Lu Xiaohe approached, her eyes fixed on her colleague’s fluffy tail.
“When the emergency situation was approved, you all were already rushing in.”
Qi Xin’s authority still held sway, and the black cat, unusually, didn’t show any strange behavior.
“While Qi Xin was holding the entrance, I jumped in by myself.”
“Emergency situation?”
As teammates, Fu Tianyi stroked the warm cat fur. Under normal circumstances, Dr. Cat would definitely swipe at him, but now it lay with its ears flattened, behaving obediently.
“Things have been unstable recently. The leaders of Yandu and Linnan haven’t left, so I’ve been staying at the Municipal Hospital…”
The inpatient department of the hospital was relatively quiet, and the garden was nice. Whenever Dr. Cat wanted to think quietly, it would always stroll around nearby.
“Recently, I’ve been considering matters related to the Primordial Elementals. Thanks to this kid Fu Tianyi, I also obtained higher browsing privileges.”
The black cat purred and explained.
“Do you know the essence of the abilities corrupted by Evil Force?”
Everyone looked at each other. Gaining special abilities from the influence of Evil Force seemed like a natural consequence. Apart from the science post that wasn’t busy, no one would contemplate such a question.
And this scientific post was not only not busy but not even human.
“Using Zhong Chengshuo’s analogy to the internet, if the biological brain is an independent device—the ‘Ghost Eye*’ branch is a mutation of observation ability. It’s like installing Windows or Android on an Apple system, which allows it to receive and process information that it couldn’t handle before.”
*Sixth sense, (or the ability to see ghosts).
“This is the most common corruption type caused by Evil Force. You have obtained the outermost perception ability of the ‘Elementals’, although they are only various incomplete fragments.”
Ge Tingting couldn’t help but nod. She, Huang Jin, and Liang Shan all belonged to this type. Those who possessed the ability of the “Ghost Eye” were the most numerous. They could gain strong clairvoyance or perceive information that didn’t belong to this world.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have any combat power at all.
“The ‘Resonance’ branch that affects others’ emotions and the ‘Obstacle’ branch that distorts cognition are the basic abilities of Elementals. It can be said that when organisms are corrupted, they develop superpowers. In essence, the organisms merely absorb the fragmented flesh of Elementals, gaining a diluted version of their abilities.”
“What about the ‘Infinite’ and ‘Charon’ branches?” Lu Xiaohe keenly sensed the missing pieces.
The “Infinite” branch, with its skyrocketing information processing ability, and the “Charon” branch, capable of traversing between realms, were extremely rare in numbers but also belonged to the corrupted abilities category.
“Charon is the most special one. Elementals cannot directly operate in the mortal world, just like fish can’t stroll on the road. But what if an animal that lives on land unexpectedly acquires the ability to breathe underwater?”
“…The abilities are still the same, but the adaptability of these animals surpasses that of fish.” Lu Xiaohe suddenly realized.
“Yes, that’s why Elementals dislike Charons.” Dr. Cat licked his paws. “Now, only the ‘Infinite’ branch, to which I belong, remains.”
“I know. People from the Infinite branch have particularly strong computational abilities, and their intelligence experiences great leaps,” Fu Tianyi interjected.
“The principle is simple.” Dr. Cat’s pupils narrowed into slits, and its tail swayed. “The physical structure of my brain hasn’t changed, but through this network called the Other Side, I can access other devices—meaning, I can access human brains.”
“During this process, I can retrieve or input simple information to the connected devices.”
Huang Jin was dumbfounded.
No wonder. During the previous competition, this cat could convey thoughts and calm everyone down. And now, it had never seen the white room before, yet it could still… It turned out that this cat treated its brains as mining rigs, constantly extracting bitcoins.
“Thank you for the enlightening knowledge.” Huang Jin pressed his temples, unsure if his intelligence would be reduced because of this. “So, after all these detours, what does this have to do with the ’emergency situation’ you mentioned?”
“Recently, when I was connecting, I noticed that many people’s brains were experiencing malfunctions.” Dr. Cat’s voice turned serious. “The cause is unknown, but they all see an ‘arm’ that ‘only they can see’.”
“This is different from the physical ailments and corruption caused by Evil Force that I’ve seen before. It makes me very uncomfortable. To investigate the situation, I had to come personally. I can’t rely on you people without the Infinite ability to investigate. You wouldn’t be able to see shit!”
In the end, its feline demeanor became stronger again, indicating that its spirit had recovered somewhat.
“You can look for your people, and I’ll investigate my matters. Let’s not interfere with each other.” It emphasized firmly.
“That being said, you shouldn’t wander around recklessly.” Fu Tianyi patiently held his teammate. “That Qi Xin doesn’t seem like a good-tempered person. She won’t care about your well-being. If you want to investigate, let us assist you.”
“Hmm.” When Qi Xin was mentioned, Dr. Cat’s ears pressed against its head.
With no cat to pet, Huang Jin squatted in the corner with dwindling interest, looking at Ding Lizi’s photos again.
He didn’t bother thinking about what abilities and operational issues were all about. Ding Lizi had Yin Ren, the powerful Elemental, protecting her, so she should be fine. If they could return safely this time, he would…
But in the next second, Zhong Chengshuo and Qi Xin suddenly appeared in front of him, almost stepping on him.
Huang Jin, let alone his thoughts, almost stopped breathing. His angry reprimand of “What are you doing!” got stuck in his throat, almost choking himself.
However, as he listened to their conversation, he wished he had choked for real just now—
“Let me have a taste.” Zhong Chengshuo stared at Qi Xin intently, like a person who had been hungry for three days staring at a bowl of steaming porridge. There was no familiarity, only “I need to eat.”
Ms. Qi’s expression was worse than the bottom of a pot, and if her hair hadn’t been tied up, it would probably have stood on end. “How dare you!”
With his “normal vision” suddenly restored, Huang Jin was still not accustomed to reading people’s expressions. But he could tell that this woman’s tone contained faint fear. It seemed that even if Zhong Chengshuo had lost power, his past aura of Fear still lingered.
Huang Jin slowly moved his body, trying to slowly leave the center of the storm. However, before he could move far, Zhong Chengshuo grabbed the back of his collar. “I’ll find you later.”
Damn it.
Huang Jin instantly slumped in the corner, too lazy to struggle. He couldn’t afford to offend King Yama, and the combination of Fear and King Yama was even more terrifying. He dared not defy it.
How did he let himself be blinded by money and not firmly transfer to another team?
“I only need the amount of six arms.” Zhong Chengshuo turned his head back and continued bargaining with Qi Xin. “And when I get what I want, I’ll also give you something in return.”
“Why don’t you ask Yin Ren?!”
“He wouldn’t like it.” Zhong Chengshuo fell silent for a few seconds. “And I’m not sure about the effect. This is just an experiment—now that we’re all on the Other Side, we need your protection. We won’t harm you.”
Qi Xin stared at him warily, while Zhong Chengshuo met her gaze calmly.
“…Fine.”
She squeezed out her response through her teeth.
“Just this once.”
Huang Jin had no interest in hearing any secrets or gossip about powerful Elementals. He was just about to cover his ears when the scene in front of him completely transformed into a vortex. The information overload unique to the Other Side hit him again, and Huang Jin’s brain buzzed.
But before he could imagine the white room, the scene stabilized once again—
It was a windowless, dim basement. Numerous metal cans shimmered on two rows of shelves. Various specimens were hidden deep within the shelves with their hollow eye sockets peering in all directions. A modified interrogation chair made of an armchair stood in the corner with its restraints hanging like candle tears.
It clearly wasn’t a legitimate place.
In this small basement, there were only Zhong Chengshuo, Qi Xin, and Huang Jin as living beings.
“This… This is…” Huang Jin tried to make his voice tremble less.
He didn’t know what the hell kind of place this was! Could this also be an ability of an Elemental?
“Just consider it a private little room,” Qi Xin responded lackadaisically. “Hey, can we get started?”
Zhong Chengshuo silently walked to the table in the center of the room. He drew out the Evil Fruit, and the circulating red light almost blinded Huang Jin. However, this talented spirit smith had experienced many hardships. Even if Zhong Chengshuo pulled out Fu Xingchuan from his pocket, Huang Jin wouldn’t be surprised.
Hmm, the legendary Evil Fruit, and then?
Then, Comrade Zhong Chengshuo firmly grasped the legendary spirit weapon and stabbed it into his left shoulder.
Huang Jin: “???!!!”
He recoiled and almost sat on the ground.
Zhong Chengshuo’s brow furrowed slightly. Like a skilled butcher, he smoothly disassembled his arm along the joints in just two seconds. When the fair and sturdy arm was placed on the table, the blood belatedly seeped out.
“Qi Xin,” Zhong Chengshuo said.
Qi Xin’s face tensed, and the corners of her mouth turned downward. She hesitated for a while before a mist-shrouded gray-black limb emerged seemingly out of thin air. She gestured for a while, then snapped it directly, followed by mashing it into minced meat. Clumps of minced meat were manipulated by her, suspended in the air, and floated near Zhong Chengshuo’s shoulder wound.
Just like a sponge absorbing water, they were quickly sucked clean by the wound.
Then, a short and thick baby’s arm protruded from the wound. It unnaturally expanded up and down, quickly transforming into an adult’s arm. Shortly after it fully regrew, Zhong Chengshuo, using the Evil Fruit again, disassembled it cleanly and placed it neatly next to the previous arm.
This cycle repeated six times.
As Huang Jin looked at the neatly arranged six left arms on the table, he stopped thinking.
Qi Xin was cutting her own body and using her flesh as food for the elderly, which he didn’t want to dwell on that matter. But Zhong Chengshuo’s style of eating-and-regrowing made it… difficult for him to accept.
After the seventh arm fully regenerated, Zhong Chengshuo moved his shoulder for a while. He looked up and down at the six arms on the table, and the Evil Fruit spun between his fingertips. “Huang Jin.”
“Here,” Huang Jin replied dazedly.
“As a spirit smith, you know techniques to maintain the vitality of limbs,” Zhong Chengshuo said with confidence. “I would like to ask for your help in preparing the procedure.”
Huang Jin struggled to turn his rusty mind.
Indeed, he knew those techniques. It was one of the fundamental skills of a spirit smith. Maintaining the vitality of biological material was essential to creating high-quality spirit weapons. But…
“But I’m a proper spirit smith,” Huang Jin said tremblingly. “Using human body parts to make spirit weapons… It’s still… a bit…”
“Not directly.”
Zhong Chengshuo lowered his eyes, and the glint of a knife flashed.
His movements were extremely swift. In an instant, the bone of that arm was smoothly removed. Before Huang Jin’s mind could fully react, only several piles of pristine white bones remained on the table.
Zhong Chengshuo skillfully sorted all the bones by size and rough categories. The human bones were neatly arranged together, resembling assembled parts to some extent. The peeled flesh and blood were piled on one side, clearly showing the structure of human fingers and wrists. Even Huang Jin, who had experienced many hardships, felt his scalp tingling.
This Zhong Chengshuo guy was truly not human.
While Huang Jin was desperately suppressing the urge to vomit, the fresh meat and blood were packed into a bag by Zhong Chengshuo. He handed it over to Qi Xin. Qi Xin had never encountered “leftover food” from Fear, so she took the bag and tightly held it in her hand.
“Animal bones are commonly used materials.”
Zhong Chengshuo turned to Huang Jin.
“These bones, could you please take care of them?”
“Ah… Uh… Ah…” Huang Jin struggled not to look at the pile of bones while he remained tongue tied. “Wait, wait… Aren’t we unable to use spells here… I…”
“If it’s just a small area, I can adjust the environment.” Qi Xin hugged the bag. “Hurry up.”
Huang Jin pulled at his hair frantically. “But these are still human materials, and you’re a science post, so…”
“No. Although I am a science post, I’m also not human.”
Zhong Chengshuo’s face showed a subtly complex emotion that Huang Jin couldn’t decipher for a moment. All he could discern was a faint sense of melancholy and a peculiar determination.
“Animal bones are commonly used materials, aren’t they?”
Zhong Chengshuo adjusted his glasses. His newly grown arm was now covered by a phantom sleeve, and the bloodstains had been absorbed by the skin. His whole body was clean, as if nothing had happened.
Huang Jin dumbly responded in acknowledgement. In the illusory room created by Qi Xin, he instinctively dealt with the pile of bones.
Glistening white, hard, jade-like bones.
…Right, Zhong Chengshuo was a unique life form, a mixture of an Elemental and a human. His bones could still be used as materials. But what could they be used for? Huang Jin couldn’t think of anything, nor did he dare to imagine.
He just stared blankly as Zhong Chengshuo categorized the bones, leaving a segment of finger bone while packing the rest into an illusionary backpack. Bones stacked upon bones until they formed a small package.
“Alright.” Zhong Chengshuo nodded in satisfaction and slung the bag over his shoulder.
Qi Xin let out a breath and stuffed the bag of meat into her abdomen. Then, a sticky chewing sound came from beneath her clothes. After Huang Jin finished his eighteenth shiver, he wiped away the nonexistent cold sweat. “Is that it?”
“Remember to keep it a secret from Yin Ren.” Zhong Chengshuo nodded and stowed away the Evil Fruit. “If all goes well, I may need your help again.”
“But… What exactly are you planning to do?” Huang Jin once again pulled his hair frantically.
“I can no longer revert to ‘Fear’, and the combat power of a human body won’t help Yin Ren. And regardless of the human world or the Other Side, there is no knowledge that can guide me.”
“So, I need to research personally and find a way.”
Zhong Chengshuo opened his palm, the translucent white finger bone still warm, gently rolling in his hand. It resembled an ordinary lifeless object, much like Zhong Chengshuo himself, completely withdrawn.
Huang Jin released some of the tension in his breath. “That’s good, that’s good. No wonder you’re doing all this. It’s good to have a direction.”
“No,” Zhong Chengshuo solemnly replied.
“Huh? …Have you gone mad?!”
Huang Jin choked on his own saliva and coughed uncontrollably.
“You don’t even know if your own bones are useful, yet you did all this? You… at least should have a viable plan!”
“How can you wait until you know it will be successful before taking action when exploring the unknown?” Zhong Chengshuo looked at Huang Jin with some astonishment. “Even in the case of trial and error, there has to be a beginning. Everyone has to explore step by step.”
“Where did this ‘everyone’ come from?” Huang Jin covered his forehead, his tone fluctuating. “What kind of theory is this…”
“This is science,” Zhong Chengshuo replied.
“At this stage, it is my most powerful ability.”
Huang Jin opened his mouth, instinctively wanting to argue, but he couldn’t find the words to refute.
“Dr. Meiqiu is right. There are some experiments that only we ‘special researchers’ can do.”
Seeing that Huang Jin no longer spoke, Zhong Chengshuo tightened his grip on the segment of finger bone.
“To fight against the Primordial Elementals, this is an excellent scientific research site.”
……
“Hey, why did you bring a shoulder bag?” Yin Ren wondered.
He proudly dragged along a long string of Elementals, returning with a full load. However, as soon as he returned to the white room, he noticed that his lover had an eye-catching shoulder bag. The bag wasn’t large, holding at most three bottles of mineral water. Judging from its style, it seemed like the kind of bag science posts would use during field studies.
Here, items could be constructed based on concentrated imagination, but specifically creating a shoulder bag seemed a bit excessive.
“For storing the Evil Fruit and materials,” Zhong Chengshuo explained, opening a corner of the bag and letting Yin Ren see the red light of the Evil Fruit.
Indeed, Zhong Chengshuo needed samples. There was a chance that this person had already gone out to collect them in his absence.
Yin Ren nodded and eagerly picked up the string of Elementals. “Look at this! Can it be used as a sample?”
The Elemental he held resembled a black, worm-like carrot. The carrot wriggled frantically, and the “roots” at the tip swayed incessantly. It was even thinner than the intruders in the Archive, likely a species at the bottom of the food chain.
Zhong Chengshuo took the black carrot in his hands.
The touch of the small Elemental was peculiar, soft with a bit of resilience, somewhat like jelly.
As soon as Zhong Chengshuo grabbed it, the carrot seemed to be immobilized, instantly stiffening and not moving at all.
“Strange, why is it so obedient?” Yin Ren turned his head and stared seriously at the carrot. “When I released my aura earlier, these little things were the fastest to flee… Well done, Zhong Ge. You’re still as sharp as ever.”
“Its reaction is indeed interesting and worthy of study,” Zhong Chengshuo expressed sincerely.
In the palm of his left hand, the finger bone was held tightly, pressing against the body of the small Elemental, still warm to the touch.
Yin Ren was exhausted to the extreme, but he had no doubts. He piled up the small Elementals and lay down next to Zhong Chengshuo, like a fierce beast returning from a hunt. Yin Ren stretched out his limbs and soon closed his eyes.
His black hair scattered on the ground, emitting a faint aroma of sandalwood. Zhong Chengshuo lifted a strand of black hair and lightly touched it with his lips. The black hair hung naturally, slightly cool to the touch, just like real hair.
“Rest well,” Zhong Chengshuo said softly.
……
Shian Building, top floor office.
Li Nian and Fu Xingchuan sat at their respective desks, staring at each other for a long time.
“Is it just my imagination, or do you really despise me so much? What’s with that look?” Fu Xingchuan put his feet up on the desk. “It’s only been a few days, and you’re already missing that kid, Xiang Jiang?”
“I miss the days when we could catch him,” Li Nian said with a stern face. “Did you change your socks? There’s a strong odor coming from your feet.”
Fu Xingchuan quickly put his feet down from the desk. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve been busy lately and completely forgot.”
Li Nian snorted.
When Fu Xingchuan returned, his appearance was drastically different. His leg had healed, his back was straightened, and his dark circles were gone. However, shortly after starting his work, the dark circles returned to Minister Fu’s face.
There was no other reason but the troublesome corruption source case. Not to mention, right after they sent away Unit 9, they encountered new complications.
A few individuals claimed online that they had seen an “angel’s arm” and felt “comforting love”. They even claimed to have developed spiritual vision. Although most citizens were uninterested in such grandiose fantasy talk, Shian still dispatched people to investigate.
But they couldn’t find any clues.
Even the most advanced cultivators couldn’t see any “angel’s arm”. Even when the interviewees pointed frantically at certain places, indicating “right here”, the instruments only detected emptiness.
One wave subsided, and another wave arose—all these energy-consuming, time-wasting disputes.
Without uncovering the truth, they couldn’t close the case. At the moment, the desks of the two ministers were piled high with documents, enough to bury a person alive.
“Let’s go to the canteen for lunch. I want to eat braised pigeon,” Fu Xingchuan complained, shuffling through papers. “Lao Li, we’re at that age where we should take care of ourselves—”
He hadn’t finished speaking when the intercom phone rang.
“Hello?” Fu Xingchuan answered with one hand, activating the speakerphone.
“Minister Fu? There are people who want to meet with you and Minister Li,” the subordinate reported diligently. “They are two ordinary female citizens. I told them that they needed to register their visit, but they insisted on seeing you first.”
“Ah?” Fu Xingchuan took several seconds to react. “We don’t have time right now. Let them register according to the rules.”
The phone fell silent; presumably the subordinate had covered the microphone and gone to communicate with the two women.
“They said they originally wanted to find members of Unit 9 but couldn’t reach them, so they decided to contact you directly.”
In a moment, the voice of the subordinate returned through the phone. There was a hint of helplessness in their tone.
Fu Xingchuan and Li Nian glanced at each other. “Unit 9? …What are their names?”
“Wait a moment.”
A few seconds later, the subordinate cleared their throat.
“…It’s Ms. Lin Bei and Ms. Gao Mengyu.”
Kinky Thoughts:
For those who forgot, these are the two characters in the first arc (case 1, the cat case).
The terrifying sensation of weightlessness, the powerlessness to unleash his strength, coupled with the bombardment of a consciousness that made one lose oneself—in less than half a minute, he appeared again in the center of the white room, looking even more disheveled than the previous time.
At first, the members of Unit 9 were all on edge, but by the hundredth time the Great Celestial Master appeared in the center of the room, no one cast a glance anymore.
Except for Zhong Chengshuo.
Zhong Chengshuo didn’t need to practice, but it also wasn’t good to act alone without the team. After being rejected by Yin Ren, Zhong Chengshuo remained silent. He sat on the ground, hugging his knees, staring blankly as Yin Ren flashed back and forth.
Initially, Yin Ren could only stay “outside” for less than half a minute. With each attempt, the time he spent outside gradually increased, but it never exceeded five minutes.
Zhong Chengshuo had never seen Yin Ren in such a sorry state. Even after the battles with Mr. Qiu and Mr. Le, Yin Ren’s aura remained stable, without the current… helplessness.
Even Zhong Chengshuo was at a loss.
Even if Zhong Chengshuo wanted to help, he couldn’t turn bodily memory into explicit theory—just like a fish naturally knowing how to swim, even if it had exceptional intelligence, it couldn’t convey this instinct to humans through language.
So he could only watch.
In the beginning, when Yin Ren failed a dozen times, he would still smile a bit embarrassingly at Zhong Chengshuo. But later on, he wouldn’t even turn his head. His expression was filled with exhaustion and confusion.
Since Zhong Chengshuo’s “resurrection”, Yin Ren would occasionally glance at him, as if there was a red thread connecting them through their gaze. However, in these 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 57 seconds, to Yin Ren, he himself seemed no different from the other members of the group.
Zhong Chengshuo was surprised to find that he didn’t quite like this feeling. Whether it was Yin Ren’s persistence or his disregard, it was a subtle kind of sadness, like a black thread sticking to a piece of snowy white fabric.
So he shifted his body, moving closer to the center of the room. Close enough that when Yin Ren flashed for the hundredth time, he was right by Zhong Chengshuo’s feet.
One standing, one sitting, Zhong Chengshuo looked up at Yin Ren. However, Yin Ren only wiped the sweat off his face and strode toward the red door.
His figure was swallowed by the red door for the hundredth time.
Zhong Chengshuo felt a sense of melancholy as he took out a photo. Yin Ren was sleeping soundly in the photo. Even in his sleep, whenever Zhong Chengshuo leaned in, there would always be a warm strand of hair sticking to his skin, stretching lazily.
Zhong Chengshuo looked at his empty hands and tightened his fingers, lost in thought.
……
At this moment, Yin Ren was oblivious to Zhong Chengshuo’s unusual behavior. To be precise, he was too preoccupied with his own abnormality—forcing himself to immerse repeatedly in the Other Side’s environment, his perception had become completely tangled.
He tasted screams on his tongue, smelled the stench of rotting organs in his ears, and his nose was filled with the sickly sweet scent of expired sugar. The surroundings were a dizzying array of chaotic fragments. He couldn’t even figure out how to move, let alone find someone.
Yin Ren attempted to mimic his previous battles and block off his senses, but without Zhong Chengshuo’s guidance, he could only remain in a vegetative state for a few minutes.
It shouldn’t be like this.
He was the cub of “Fear” with the ability to move freely in this realm.
Yin Ren desperately tried to recall the grassy mountains and streams from a thousand years ago, then the cozy living room from a thousand years later. The impression of the “white room” that had been etched into his mind was fading. He forced himself to stay outside the red door, alternating between the “chaos” and the “emptiness” in his perception.
Over the years, Yin Ren had developed his own way of adapting to the unknown—
Pushing himself to the edge.
When facing imminent death, his hidden potential would naturally be squeezed out. This move had proven successful countless times in battles and hunts from a thousand years ago.
Information explosion, emptiness. Information explosion, emptiness… Yin Ren repeatedly opened and closed his senses, tempering his nerves time and time again. His mind was almost overwhelmed by the jumble of information. It felt as if he was being crushed into pieces and then pieced back together again.
…No wonder Qi Xin didn’t want to save people first. If Xiaohe’s mother had settled down, she would really want to escape from this place.
Yin Ren struggled to control his perception, as if steering a sinking ship in a raging storm.
Gradually, what lay before him was no longer a disorganized storm, but a merging of scenes.
Scenes belonging to others, scenes belonging to himself. Unseen scenes, scenes deeply ingrained in his memory. Light and shadow still appeared tangled, and Yin Ren felt as if he had fallen into the stomach of a colorful monster. The debris of the surrounding scenes rolled and ground against him, bringing a heavier sense of pain.
Amidst dizziness and intense pain, Yin Ren forced himself to think.
With his power, he could assist Qi Xin in protecting the city. Li Nian’s proposal for “sealing” also made sense… There were so many ways to find liberation, so why did he choose the most difficult one?
His mind was repeatedly battered by information, almost turning into a pulp.
Yin Ren became somewhat dazed for a moment. Amidst the vivid colors, his thoughts became increasingly elusive. He wasn’t sure if he had truly arrived on the Other Side or if he had fallen into a nightmare.
Even though he suppressed the thought of returning to the white room, various ideas of giving up continued to scream in his ears.
Right, he could cooperate with Zhong Chengshuo… Didn’t they work together so well in the previous battle against Mr. Le? In case of conscious corruption or emotional influence, he just needed to block off his senses and wholeheartedly trust… trust Zhong Chengshuo…
…
No.
Yin Ren abruptly snapped back to reality. Just as the first two notes of “Happy Birthday” played in his mind, he forcefully shifted his thoughts.
Although he came to the Other Side to fulfill his promise to Lu Xiaohe, did he truly have only that one promise to fulfill?
Not long ago, Zhong Chengshuo solemnly blew out a candle in front of him, and a warm glow flickered in those dark eyes.
[I hope that no matter what the future holds, we will be the best accomplices.] That person sincerely made a wish to him.
Becoming the most excellent humanoid weapon was indeed a method. Capable of fighting demons and disasters, proficient in various spells, and able to protect his comrades and transform into an eyeless blade.
But then what?
Perhaps Love would be sealed away, returning to the Other Side to balance Qi Xin. If he did that, would Qi Xin spare him and Zhong Chengshuo? Mr. Qiu was able to destroy Zhong Chengshuo’s physical body and take him away. When it came to battling the Great Primordial Elementals or self-preservation, these were the issues that Zhong Chengshuo needed to deal with.
Until the day Love and Sorrow vanished.
He would be responsible for the mortal realm, and Zhong Chengshuo would be responsible for the Other Side. It seemed fair, but it made Yin Ren extremely uncomfortable. He couldn’t forget the sight of that person losing his head, falling before him.
Like a wound, scabbing over, tearing away, and repeating the process. No amount of sweetness or warmth could heal it.
As soon as this thought arose, the debris of scenes around Yin Ren gradually turned blood red. His imagination quickly constructed the scene—the sunset and stone steps of that day appeared before him once again.
Whether it was the blood splattered on the walls or the moss between the stone steps, every detail was vividly present. Warm blood flowed over the stone slabs, and the stench of flesh and blood filled the air.
His memories of them were much deeper than that wretched white room.
How many times had he seen this scene?
Yin Ren reached out and touched the bloodstained wall. The scene froze with Zhong Chengshuo’s body stiffly leaning against the wall, covered in mangled flesh and blood. Even without a head, Yin Ren could still recognize that person from his figure alone.
Yin Ren crouched in front of the lifeless body, gently straightening Zhong Chengshuo’s disheveled and blood-soaked clothes. His lover’s chest wound was gruesomely torn open, and Yin Ren carefully closed it. But even after doing everything, the scent of death still lingered, viciously wrenching at Yin Ren’s heart.
Perhaps with revenge taken, the tragic state of Yin Village found peace in his heart. And in its place, this scene became a horrifying curse that sent chills down his spine with just a single glance.
This time, Yin Ren didn’t look away.
He gazed at the headless body—the bloodstains on his hands were as fresh as ever, not yet dried.
“The cart will find its way around the hill when it gets there*. Enjoying life in a timely manner is the most important thing. That’s always been my way of thinking. But if we split the responsibility in half and go on as we are… I don’t think that qualifies as the best accomplice.”
*(车到山前必有路) Idiom referring to things will eventually sort itself out.
That was the wish you made to me. How can I just brush it off?
Yin Ren traced the broken neck of the body. The severed flesh revealed a snow-white spine, resembling a pale seed.
“…A long time ago, I never used to consider the ‘future’.”
Yin Ren’s fingertips moved from Zhong Chengshuo’s mutilated neck to his ribs, feeling the lingering warmth of the skin. After a moment of hesitation, Yin Ren leaned forward and embraced him. Without the weight of a head, the body felt much lighter than he had imagined.
“But after awakening in this era, I’ve thought about the ‘future’ twice. The first time, I thought about how much I love you, and you’re human. If you were to grow old and die in the future, I would be devastated.”
“The second time, I thought about how much I love you, and you lost your original power. If there were another instance of feeling ‘powerless’… I wouldn’t even dare to imagine it.”
Yin Ren closed his eyes, and his nostrils were filled with the scent of blood and the moist smell of rocks.
And Zhong Chengshuo’s breath.
Pure and sharp like a mountain forest, with a faint hint of mint. It was Yin Ren’s favorite scent, but when mixed with the scent of blood, it transformed into a terrifying odor that chilled him to the bone.
“I think there might only be one way to be completely rid of this scene—”
Yin Ren tightly embraced the lifeless body, carefully closing off his senses. Between the sealed “shutdown” and the open “maximum firepower”, there were many subtle controls over his senses. He had forgotten how many times he had repeated this process, but Yin Ren was certain that he had vaguely found the invisible “knob” at its edge.
“—I must be able to build an indestructible ‘future’.”
Click.
The scent at his nose vanished, and the weight in his embrace dissipated like smoke.
It was as if he had found the correct password for a safe or tuned the radio to the right frequency. The environment around Yin Ren trembled lightly, and the lingering, excruciating pain dissipated into thin air.
……
“What are you trying to do?” Zhong Chengshuo said, stopping next to Qi Xin.
Yin Ren didn’t return for a long time, and it made Zhong Chengshuo’s knees stiff when he sat down. He had nothing to do but devote all his energy to worry and speculation, a feeling that didn’t need to be expressed in words.
Yin Ren didn’t know how to move on the Other Side, but Zhong Chengshuo did. Ten seconds after pushing open the door, he found Qi Xin, who was doing nothing.
“I made myself clear, didn’t I? I want ‘Fear’ to return.” Qi Xin floated in the air, casting a sidelong glance at Zhong Chengshuo. For some reason, she seemed reluctant to meet his gaze. “Of course, not referring to you.”
“…Can’t I do it?” Zhong Chengshuo was taken aback.
“You have integrated too well with humans. Anyway, you can’t.” Qi Xin lowered her eyes. “…But it’s understandable. You didn’t have thoughts before, so it’s inevitable that you wouldn’t grasp the gravity of things.”
Zhong Chengshuo stared at her for a while. “You remember what happened back then.”
“The period when you were hunted down was a grand carnival on the Other Side. Love, Joy, Disgust… They tore this place apart with gaps, just to trap you. Why, don’t you remember at all?”
“I only remember the pain.”
“Haha.” Qi Xin forced a laugh. “Forget about that. Old* Fear, you don’t seem like the type to engage in conversation with others.”
*[Lao] (老). I’m translating it because it sounds too weird given that I translated his “name”.
“Listen, even if you don’t have any abilities, at least none of the Elementals here—including me—can completely kill you. If you have something to say, go ahead and speak.”
As she spoke, her body instinctively tensed up.
“I feel like I’m useless,” Zhong Chengshuo said pensively.
Qi Xin: “Ah?”
Her defensive posture instantly crumbled, and a hint of confusion appeared on her face. What was this former dominant God of Death from the Other Side talking about?
“If Yin Ren only wanted to find the missing people, he wouldn’t have disregarded me as well. I can tell that Yin Ren wants to become the true Fear,” Zhong Chengshuo earnestly recounted.
Qi Xin gritted her teeth. This person’s account was irrationally infuriating, but she was indeed interested in this topic. “Go on.”
“At that time, I won’t be able to intervene in his battle with Love. Even if I were to forcefully join, I would only become a burden.” Zhong Chengshuo analyzed himself in detail. “Just the thought of it makes me feel somewhat sad.”
Qi Xin: “…” It was true that her essence was “Sorrow”, but seeking emotional advice from a Primordial Elemental seemed off somehow, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
“I don’t think you need to be too sad.” Qi Xin cleared her throat. “I don’t know how things will turn out. That kid Yin Ren can only take it step by step. To be honest, he may not necessarily become the true Fear.”
“What do you mean?” Zhong Chengshuo’s expression immediately turned solemn.
Qi Xin casually pointed to a distance—a dozen or so steps away, two white Primordial Elementals were engaged in a fierce fight. One had already been mostly consumed by the other but was still struggling desperately. Judging by their appearance, those two little creatures were undoubtedly of the same kind.
“Normal Elementals should be born on the Other Side under the influence of ‘Satisfaction’. If there’s enough food after their birth, they can survive by feeding on emotions alone. Cannibalism within the same species only occurs in famine-like environments.”
“As for Primordial Elementals like us, we must inevitably kill the previous generation after being born… After all, resources are limited, and as long as the previous generation is alive, they will unconsciously absorb emotional nutrients, causing the new generation to quickly perish due to malnutrition.”
Qi Xin gestured casually.
“But according to your accounts, first, Yin Ren was born in the mortal realm without the intervention of ‘Satisfaction’, which is unprecedented. Second, he has yet to consume you, who occupies an empty position, but he is quite healthy.”
The more Zhong Chengshuo frowned, the tighter his brows knitted. “Are you saying that Yin Ren isn’t a normal Primordial Elemental?”
“Yes. I don’t know what he will become.” Qi Xin rolled her eyes, and the dark abyss of her eyes squeezed at the corners. “But he looks like Fear, his aura is that of Fear, and his destructive power is no different from Fear. To me, he is the cub of ‘Fear’.”
Zhong Chengshuo remained silent.
“As long as he can solve the problems on the Other Side, I don’t care about his bloodline purity. In the current situation, it seems like I don’t have a choice either,” Qi Xin said. “So no one can predict what will happen in the future, and it doesn’t matter if you mind.”
“Yin Ren’s condition is even more unstable than expected, and you don’t have a way to restore my powers,” Zhong Chengshuo dryly summarized. “I can’t possibly not mind.”
“I can’t help you, and I don’t care.”
Qi Xin averted her gaze.
“For the Other Side, you are now no different from a dead thing, Mr. Fear.”
Zhong Chengshuo raised his gaze. The two small white Elementals had finished their fight. The silhouette of one had disappeared without a trace, while the other floated lightly as if nothing had happened.
The one that had been consumed didn’t even leave a trace behind.
On the Other Side without Fear, only this kind of “death” existed. Even if he stood here now, he couldn’t interfere with anything.
Zhong Chengshuo took off the glasses made of “illusions” and raised his pitch-black eyes. When the tiny entity floated away, his hand reached towards his lower back. Beneath his loose white linen clothing, a touch of crimson was hidden.
Perhaps due to the infiltration of Yin Ren’s blood, the Evil Fruit wasn’t an illusion but was brought in for real. The crimson flowed on the blade was captivatingly beautiful. Zhong Chengshuo pressed his fingertip against the blade, and a trace of chill seeped from the razor-sharp edge.
Qi Xin couldn’t offer any effective advice, and the information from Shian was limited.
‘This couldn’t go on,’ he thought.
Since Yin Ren wouldn’t slow down, he had to catch up.
……
Yin Ren opened his eyes.
He found himself in an exceptionally wide tunnel with countless scenes and fragments crowded on the black-gray walls of the tunnel, like walls adorned with festive lights. This passageway resembled an ant nest, with no visible beginning or end, and branching out into innumerable forks. Everything in the world intersected here, dazzling to the point of breathlessness.
Like an endless celebration.
Yin Ren imagined a solid ground, and the next moment, he felt an appropriate weight under his feet. He wasn’t sure if this was the true form of the Other Side, but at least for now, his body was no longer in pain.
Yin Ren quickly recited a mantra, but things didn’t go as he wished. He couldn’t even produce a spark.
…Well, he had to take things one step at a time. Yin Ren curiously took a step forward, observing everything around him.
“Oh, right. Almost forgot about you.”
Just as Yin Ren took a step forward, he suddenly slapped his forehead. He took out the trembling Dog Thing from his pocket and tapped on its surface with his knuckles.
“You were scared to death, but Qi Xin already knew about your existence. So, do you have anything to say now?”
[Home! Home! Home!]
The excited thoughts of Dog Thing came through.
[Can I go home?]
“…Go. Now that Qi Xin is watching, it’s pointless for me to keep you here.” Yin Ren chuckled. He extended his hand, and the cellphone floated on its own in midair.
[Go home—!!!] Dog Thing cheered.
In an instant, a mass of black oozed out from the cellphone. Its surface appeared watery and leaden gray, covered in densely packed and regular pores. Around its round body, spider-like long legs emerged.
The thing floated lightly in the air, resembling a variation of Saturn with insect-like legs forming its rings. Those legs moved rhythmically, and the spherical body drifted in the air.
“So this is the ‘Anxiety’ with such a distinguished appearance.” Yin Ren rubbed the goosebumps on his arms. “Alright, stop lingering and go already.”
[Thank you.]
Dog Thing circled around Yin Ren with its small legs pedaling happily.
[Goodbye.]
Moving gracefully like a jellyfish, it drifted towards one of the branching paths in the tunnel. Yin Ren had no idea how these things navigated, and he shook his head with a smile.
Next, all he had to do was find Qi Xin. The beginning was always the hardest, and he had already completed the most troublesome step!
Yin Ren began to move along the tunnel.
In the first hour, he held his head high and walked with confidence.
In the second hour, his steps grew heavier, and his brows furrowed.
In the third hour, he lay down on the ground.
This place was too vast, like an infinitely flawed space. Trying to find Qi Xin here was more challenging than panning for gold in a riverbed with bare hands. But if he went back to the white room like this… Yin Ren felt a tinge of resentment, as if he were rolling back to the spawn point in a game.
Qi Xin shouldn’t have gone too far from the white room, right? After all, how was this damn place even supposed to be navigated?
Yin Ren lay on the ground, looking at the radiant colors in all directions with millions of white structures, unable to discern the way back.
…Oh well. If he couldn’t find Qi Xin within an hour, he would reluctantly roll back. If he stayed away for too long, Zhong Chengshuo would surely worry.
Yin Ren let out a long sigh and was about to get up when he saw something round and rolling quickly towards him from the distance. A circle of familiar, small legs surrounded it.
“Dog Thing?!”
[Ahhhhhhhh!!!]
Before Dog Thing even reached him, a string of screams pierced through Yin Ren’s mind. Startled, he jumped up and saw the massive pursuers behind Dog Thing—
Various black and gray entities twisted together, forming a black tornado. They jostled and raced straight towards Dog Thing. The legs of Dog Things were about to break, and its surface pores oozed a transparent liquid—whether cold sweat or tears, Yin Ren couldn’t tell.
[Help! Help! Help! Help!] Dog Thing shouted desperately. It squeezed into Yin Ren’s hand on its own, transforming into a cellphone. Immediately, the unfortunate cellphone started vibrating endlessly in Yin Ren’s hand.
Yin Ren: “You—”
Before he could finish his sentence, he was engulfed by the swarm of black entities.
The familiar pain returned. Only this time, it was external, not internal. These damn things were devouring him!
Yin Ren turned around in horror, trying to escape, but these Elementals crowded around him, making it impossible for him to move an inch.
He attempted to imagine the white room, but these unidentified Elementals were releasing intense emotions, turning his mind into a chaotic mess, rendering him unable to focus.
Unable to escape and unable to use his abilities, was he going to sink in the gutter?! Yin Ren covered his head, fully convinced that if this continued for a few more minutes, he would be skinned alive.
Was this how Qi Xin “took care” of a cub?
…Wait a minute. He was the cub of “Fear”, the highest level of emotion in theory, so he could simply consume them.
Yin Ren thought and acted swiftly. He grabbed one of the slippery entities and took a bite. He didn’t know what emotion this was, but it tasted somewhat like tortoise jelly.
Not bad.
Yin Ren felt revitalized and started devouring them even faster. Tearing off a piece here, swallowing a whole Elemental there. Soon, as if realizing that using a mouth was too slow, Yin Ren instinctively unleashed his true form and consumed them with his entire being.
As his true form emerged, the Elementals froze in place as if under a petrification spell.
In the next second, they once again twisted into a black tornado, but this time, they dashed in the opposite direction.
“Thinking of running away?”
Yin Ren, who had already expended quite a bit of energy, had just satisfied his appetite. He directed his body forward and pounced, closely pursuing the black tornado while voraciously absorbing it.
Something inside him was awakening. His true form became lighter and faster, akin to darkness itself. Like a tidal wave, Yin Ren swept towards the horde of Elementals, and with a crashing black wave, only a few survivors remained. The rest were engulfed and vanished into the darkness.
He was satisfied with his meal, but it left an unsatisfying taste in his mouth.
After confirming that the surroundings were completely cleared, Yin Ren leisurely restored his human form. It was said that a full stomach would put one in a good mood. Lord Ghost King strolled for a while to aid digestion and decided to return openly and honestly. He tightly clenched Dog Thing in his right hand and carried a few leftover Elementals in his left hand, intending to bring them back for further study with Zhong Chengshuo.
It could be considered returning with a full load, and Lord Ghost King’s mood improved slightly.
Not far away, within a certain shadow, a pair of human eyes blinked without pause, with the pupils following Yin Ren’s movements.
“An evil being? A Primordial Elemental? Or…”
The person muttered to themselves.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen something this interesting.”
Kinky Thoughts:
When I first looked up tortoise jelly (guilinggao) I thought it was grass jelly, but it turns out it’s made from turtle shells, commonly from the golden coin turtle in the past, which is currently critically endangered, but now from other turtles.
Teest was lying on a pile of Nol’s bones, too weak to stand. Nol didn’t rush him. After straining his nerves for more than twenty hours, Nol himself was extremely exhausted. After all, no one had specified that the reward had to be received standing.
The reward was as he had predicted. For defeating a hidden boss beyond his level, Nol gained a large amount of experience points, plus a rare item corresponding to the “raider’s profession”.
[Guardian’s Phylactery: After devouring, you can evolve into the rare undead monster “Lich”. The most proficient skill will undergo mutation enhancement.
※First clear special reward. Only for undead creatures to use; not tradable.]
Countless white fragments of light exploded, and the little black box that had just fallen into the water appeared before him.
Without thinking, Nol grabbed the box and took a bite.
The box seemed to be made of leather, about the size of an apple, with the hardness of an apple. But it tasted indescribably disgusting, as if he was chewing on rotten meat. If it weren’t for the fact that skeleton soldiers had no sense of taste, Nol would have vomited violently.
Honestly, evolving now wasn’t cost-effective.
This thing could cause a skill to mutate, and the higher the level, the rarer the skill that mutated, the better. At the moment, the highest proficiency skill Nol had was the lowest level “Devour”, a skill every undead creature had.
But he had no choice. A lich had a physical body and could disguise itself as a normal person, which was what he desperately needed.
The black box was thus swallowed by Nol and magically disappeared inside the skeleton.
The next instant, there was a surge of dark light, and the scattered bones on the ground were held together by some force, forcibly assembled. Then, withered flesh crawled onto the skeleton, and dim organs appeared between the ribs.
Organs, muscles, skin, hair.
The flesh gradually became whole, fresh, and plump. Nol raised his right arm and saw a familiar palm. He sighed in satisfaction and used up all the reward experience points—
[Status: Fire and light attribute attacks deal 500% damage.]
Not long after, the mutated skill was fresh out of the oven:
[Skill: Devour Lv. Max → Heretical Devour [Elementary]]
[Heretical Devour [Elementary]: The devourable object changes from “undead creatures” to “all species”; devouring the target’s flesh will gain experience points and randomly acquire one of the target’s skills; this ability can only be used on a single target once.]
[Note: The higher the target’s strength, the higher the failure rate. Can have up to 3 acquired skills.]
[※”Heretical Devour” can be upgraded with the evolution of the holder.]
The properties after evolution were excellent, and the mutated skill could also be used. Now he could easily protect himself. The misfortune ended here. As long as he “divorced” Teest, he could pretend to be a common person and live freely outside…
[Warning, abnormal behavior detected.]
…Huh?
[Combat level comparison completed. It is judged to be an abnormal means of conquering. Initiating—— Initiating—— Initiating——]
The sweet female voice mechanically repeated, and Nol instinctively held his breath.
[——Initiating curse punishment.] The system finally gave its conclusion.
…What the hell?
Indeed, it was theoretically impossible for them to win this battle. Normally, game developers wouldn’t enter the game and remember all the mechanisms of the boss. He could understand the system’s misjudgment. Under normal circumstances, they would just freeze the account, and the Player could appeal.
Why was it a “curse”? This punishment was too weird.
As Nol was pondering, the status bar flickered as if it had poor signal. It changed from light blue to blood red, and its content also changed—
[Status: The curse “Physical Destruction [Undispellable]” permanently effective.]
Nol slowly extended his hand and poked the underlined “Physical Destruction”. Sure enough, the system gave a thoughtful explanation.
[※ Physical Destruction: Under special conditions, it can occur by repeatedly using spells that counter your own attributes. The severity and duration of the curse depend on the specific circumstances. Equipment and medicinal gains are proportionally discounted.]
His HP and MP were directly locked, and his various attributes were reduced by 99%. The curse couldn’t be dispelled, and it was permanently effective. His “Physical Destruction” was directly pulled at maximum strength.
In the end, it left him with a normal “intelligence” attribute, plus a poison attack that canceled the fire and light weaknesses inherited by undead monsters. However, when one’s defense was permanently reduced by 99%, whether they had a weakness or not didn’t really matter.
Nol sat quietly in place, staring at his desolate status bar.
…Until a piece of red curtain covered his naked body.
“You’re younger than I thought, Mr. Mage,” a voice said. “Hey, even if we’re married, you don’t have to be so… candid.”
Nol raised his head and looked at Teest, who was barely standing.
“You don’t look too happy.” Teest swayed a bit and sat down next to Nol. “What, are you cursed too?”
“What do you mean cursed ‘too’?” Nol finally pulled his attention back.
Teest chuckled. “I got an extra curse, called ‘God’s Forsaken, the kind that can’t be dispelled. Who knows, maybe God just doesn’t like this kind of weak-to-strong drama.”
“I’ve never heard of this curse,” Nol said truthfully.
“Physical Destruction” he knew. Black mages using healing spells, holy knights using black magic—all would have a “Physical Destruction” state. But he really didn’t know anything about “God’s Forsaken”.
His game had been added with too many miscellaneous things. Nol has started to get used to it.
“The curse doesn’t have much effect on my body.” Teest shrugged. “But it forbids me, uh, from using anything related to divine power.”
He was vague, but Nol knew what that meant.
“God” was a euphemistic term for system functions. If he didn’t guess wrong, Teest couldn’t change his face from now on, he couldn’t buy various official gift packs, and he was forbidden to trade with other Players through the shop system. What was worse, he couldn’t team up normally, let alone join any guild.
Next, Teest would have to face all enemies alone.
“But I don’t think the impact is serious. You lose some, you gain some.” Teest grimaced and started washing his bloody hair, seemingly very nonchalant. “What about you? What’s your curse?”
When Nol finished explaining from the perspective of a “game NPC”, Teest’s mouth gaped, and the hand washing his head stiffened in mid-air.
“Bud, you’re too miserable,” he sincerely lamented. “So, you’re not much stronger than a skeleton soldier now. I still have to escort you home.”
Nol nodded. “That’s the case.”
After explaining to Teest, he also calmed down a bit.
Regardless, he now had a human form and could return to human society. As for the issue of combat power… It was just another game problem. Since he could find a way to deal with Lich Valdorlock, he could solve this one.
Nol adjusted the decaying mantle on his body, looking at the stagnant water at the foot of the stairs.
His appearance was almost identical to that of the modern human “Xu Yue”.
Black hair with slightly longer bangs that just covered the back of his nape. His features were very handsome and distinguished, with somewhat deep contours, slightly melancholic. But compared to a real western appearance, his brows and eyes were softer. His face was still pale from being overworked, his lips lacked color, and his physique hadn’t changed—
He used to pay great attention to health management, maintaining a slim and strong figure with no obesity from being overworked, but he didn’t have time to go to the gym, so this strength was just that of an ordinary person. In this world, he could probably be considered skinny.
The only change was his eyes.
His pupils had turned into the bright blue typical of undead creatures, faintly glowing in the dark, like two clusters of will-o’-wisps. Nol sighed. When he left here, he would have to find a way to cover them.
“Never mind, let’s get divorced first,” Nol said to Teest.
Teest nodded and cheerfully took out the little idol. In an instant, the little idol collapsed into dust in his palm. Seeing Teest’s face gradually turn pale, Nol suddenly realized the problem—this man’s curse seemed to be called “God’s Forsaken”.
Teest was abandoned by the system, unable to operate any contracts, including, of course, the marriage contract.
Normally, Nol could also unilaterally terminate the marriage. So he took the last little idol and tried to activate it through prayer. Regrettably, nothing happened.
The idol only regarded him as a roadside stone. God knows if he was implicated by Teest’s curse or if he himself had a problem.
They challenged a task beyond their level, which not only brought impossible curses but also impossible bugs. Nol tightly pursed his lips. After bearing such an outrageous curse, he thought he couldn’t be any unluckier.
But as it turns out, he really could.
“It seems we can’t separate for now, honey.” Teest shook the sand off his hand, his tone a bit heavy.
Nol was silent for a moment. “First, let’s find the loot, then leave… Where did you come from?”
Actually, he knew the answer.
“Three Forks Road Village, not far from here.” Sure enough, Teest muttered.
“Then go to Three Forks Road Village.” Nol stood up and tied the curtain around himself, making it into a simple robe. “Let’s deal with the curse separately. If it’s just to dissolve the marriage contract, I think I have a way.”
“I wanted to say earlier, you’re not an ordinary mage, are you? You know everything,” Teest half-jokingly said. “Even the mysterious lich is so familiar to you, I believe it if you say you’re the Pope of some church… What did you believe in before you died, the Goddess of Life? The Eternal Son? Or something else?”
‘Great,’ Nol thought. ‘I don’t recognize any of these “gods” you’re talking about.’
Unless the creators of the game thought there was too little controversy, they wouldn’t design too many or too heavy religious elements. At best, they would have a vague orthodox religion in the background, a few beautiful scenic spots, and distinctive NPCs.
Forget about religion, even the war elements in “Tahe” were few—those bloody wars with a western fantasy flavor only appeared in historical settings. “Tahe” was positioned as a light-hearted game. Most of the conflict settings were simple “A good, B bad”.
As a result, now a Player stood in front of him and asked, “What did you believe in before you died?”
A bona fide atheist, thank you.
But Nol certainly couldn’t say that. He kept a straight face and chose a softer answer—
“I have no faith,” he said solemnly. “I only believe in myself.”
Teest’s smile slightly froze. He subtly looked at Nol for a while, and the smile suddenly grew larger. Eventually, he laughed out loud.
“Sorry. After all, it’s a privacy issue. I was being rude.” His tone was extremely sincere. “Let’s get this place sorted out and try to go back early—we are on our honeymoon after all.”
Having said that, Teest was about to stand up, but was held down by Nol.
“…?”
“Your injuries.” Nol threw several healing spells on Teest—with his current attributes, he could only use minor healing spells—Teest’s ghastly face quickly healed, becoming pleasant to look at again.
“Isn’t the healing spell harmful to you?”
“Not now. Instead, your face is spiritually attacking me,” Nol said grimly. “Well, it looks much better now.”
“Such praise, honey.” Teest straightened up and said ceremoniously, “Is there anything you need me to do for you?”
“Yes.” Nol was straightforward. “Since I have my loot, you must also have your spoils.”
“Show me. Maybe I can give you some inspiration.”
The author has something to say:
Cool text1golden finger2, but a trial version for members. The whole experience lasted just three seconds.
1Genre in web novels, which generally have a protagonist that often has a strong, dominant role with their conflicts resolved smoothly and satisfyingly, allowing readers to experience a sense of triumph and accomplishment. These elements include such things as the main character gaining unexpected power ups, exacting satisfying revenge, or achieving significant success, which gives the reader a cool (refreshing) [Shuang] (爽) feeling. 2In the context of a novel, particularly those involving games or leveling up systems, it refers to special advantages, privileges, or cheat-like abilities that the protagonist possesses, which help them to overcome difficulties and progress in the story much faster or easier than others.
Nol: ……Give me my attribute values back!!!Believe in him, he’ll find a way ☆
Teest’s sense of ease that he had always carried disappeared, and he glared at the skeleton beside him with a blank expression.
“What?” He could barely hold down his voice.
“We need to get married—the kind with a sacred covenant,” Nol said. “You must have brought the small idol, right?”
Activities like reshaping people, establishing covenants, managing guilds, and other significant tasks needed to be completed in front of an idol. However, for things like wedding ceremonies or forming guilds, some would like to conduct them in special places.
In this case, portable small idols were very handy. They were about the size of an egg and were for one-time use. Although they were game shop items, one only cost less than ten yuan.
Plus, registering for the game granted three small idols. Players with any sense of gaming wouldn’t use them up too early.
“I brought one.” Sure enough, Teest reached into his waist pouch and pulled out a small wooden idol.
For some reason, Nol always felt his tone was a bit cold.
But soon, his attention was completely attracted by the little idol. Looking at the small idol close at hand, Nol couldn’t help but frown.
It was different.
The idols in “Tahe” had a style similar to “The Legend of Zelda“. They had a rough and simple appearance, more like mascots than “gods”. But the little idol in front of him was clear and elegant, with distinct features.
It was a beautiful woman with downcast eyes and a slight smile. She had long, loosely braided hair that was adorned with flowers and fruit. Her figure was slim and graceful, dressed in a classical gown, standing barefoot in dense shrubs.
Nol was sure that there had never been such an image in “Tahe”.
“Here’s the small idol you asked for.” Seeing that Nol kept staring without responding, Teest raised his brows. “It’s the small idol of the Goddess of Life, Tilia. That’s all I have.”
…Huh? Who?
Nol skeptically took the idol, which felt similar to the ones they designed. Turning it over, he indeed found the game’s logo.
There was no time to be picky now. Nol shoved the idol into Teest’s hand. “Pray to it and say you want to marry me.”
Teest: “.…..”
Teest: “Isn’t there another way?”
“There are, but none with a greater chance of success. I’m not even sure if it’s 100% certain. You try first,” Nol said. “If it works, we can divorce right after we win.” Anyway, if he lost, there would be no afterwards.
Originally, to leave room for things like “a love story between a dragon and a human”, the system didn’t entirely prohibit Players from marrying monsters. If a highly intelligent special monster was willing, they could enter a marital relationship with Players.
As for which monsters one could marry, the system didn’t lock specific species but rather judged by “monster intelligence level”—high-intelligence monsters weren’t weak and could mostly transform into humans.
Nol was betting on his unique situation affecting the “intelligence level”.
Teest sighed, eventually flicking his wrist and tossing the small idol onto the steps before the throne.
The idol transformed into countless platinum-colored sparkles before it even landed. They danced in the air, forming a giant virtual image of that beautiful goddess.
Accompanied by a comforting rustling sound, a translucent covenant appeared before Nol and Teest. Floating in mid-air like feathers, the words emitted a warm glow—
During the marriage, you will gain the skill “Telepathy” that only affects your partner.
During the marriage, your money and items will be unconditionally shared with your other half and divided equally until the end of the marriage.
During the marriage, you and your partner will be in a special team state where attacks on each other are ineffective.
Note: Quests and experience are not shared, and you may form normal teams with others separately.
……
At the bottom was the signature space. Nol stretched out his finger, signing his name neatly and decisively.
The marriage contract in the game was originally just a variant of team rules, involving only property and skills. Its existence was solely to allow couples—or even close friends—to play more conveniently and happily.
It wasn’t a big deal—not like they were actually getting married. If the Player wanted, they could marry and divorce eight times a day, and no one would care.
Teest, on the other hand, wasn’t so nonchalant. He looked at the blank signature bar for a long time before carefully writing down his name. Nol glanced at it and saw that the spelling of the name was “Teest.”
What a strange name.
After Teest signed the last letter, the contract burst into flames and turned into two beautiful diamond rings. A gentle smile appeared on the phantom of the statue, and it gradually disappeared, revealing a baffled Lich behind it.
Nol hung the diamond ring on his thumb bone, and instead of opening his mouth, he sent his voice directly to Teest’s mind:
[Done.]
Teest shoved the ring into his waist bag, not hiding the doubt on his face.
Without further explanation, Nol threw an image at him. Teest seemed to realize something, and his eyes widened slightly.
[“Telepathy” is perfect for command,] Nol silently conveyed. [It’s inappropriate to shout in front of the Lich.]
[You want to command me?] Teest intuitively understood the skill.
[I know all of this guy’s moves and can help you judge safe spaces. I’ll just tell you where it’s safe; reaction and evasion depend on you alone—this is your only defense,] Nol stated calmly.
[Also, if you can master the timing of the counterattack, you can disrupt the Lich’s spellcasting, causing magic backfire—this will be your offensive means. The opportunity to counterattack lasts only a fraction of a second, and it must be faced head-on. Like defense, I judge, you execute.]
A smile appeared on Teest’s lips.
[Oh, I get it. If you judge wrong or if I react too slowly, I’m done,] he concluded. [Very exciting. What about my weapon?]
[Use my leg bone,] Nol replied. [I’ll mostly be in the safe zone, and it can regenerate. Since attacks between us now have no effect, using my bone won’t harm me.]
His bones were products of the Dragon Tomb—extremely durable. Although durability wasn’t considered a monster attribute, Nol decided to construct his body with “high-quality material”. Indeed, they came in handy now.
[…Wait, did you say you’ll “mostly be in the safe zone”?] Teest caught the critical point.
[With my current condition, I can cast a small healing spell every five minutes. But it only relieves fatigue. The healing power is limited.]
[That means you’ll have to frequently leave the safe area, and the Lich will undoubtedly attack you first.]
Nol didn’t answer immediately. He reached out, pulled Teest’s chest strap, and while Teest was stunned, Nol took off his head, tied it tightly, and swung it like a meteor hammer—
His head left the safe zone and flew back in less than two seconds.
[The small healing spell can be cast instantly. I won’t let it catch on.] Nol reattached his head. [Any other questions?]
For a moment, both Teest and the Lich had particularly complicated expressions.
[No,] Teest answered. Though his expression said otherwise.
Nol could guess what Teest was wondering about—
Undead monsters couldn’t possibly use healing spells. Furthermore, healing spells were light magic and could harm the undead. Even if Nol were the caster, he would still get hurt.
With Nol’s current mana, a small healing spell could restore Teest’s 100 HP. Considering the defense of a skeleton soldier, Nol would lose 80 HP himself, with his total HP being 81.
Luckily, HP would regenerate in the safe zone. As long as he carefully controlled the casting rhythm, he could barely act as a healer.
During this time, Nol had to constantly observe the battlefield.
Calculate status values, prepare spells, convey attack and defense instructions. He had to multitask without a flaw.
The plan was very extreme, and Nol even prepared comforting words for Teest. But Teest didn’t ask anything. As if facing an ordinary enemy, the white-haired knight touched the leg bone in his hand and leaped down from the throne.
The Lich had had enough of these two on-the-spot schemers, who were flirting with each other, and raised his hand to unleash an AOE spell.
Nol sat on the throne, overseeing everything. The moment the Lich raised his hand, he imprinted the attack trajectory into Teest’s mind.
Teest pivoted on the spot, his long hair sweeping through the air. The red bursts of light exploded around him like tiny fireworks. It didn’t look like Teest was dodging; it looked like they were intentionally avoiding him.
The Lich was clearly unsatisfied and forcefully cast another AOE spell. Water in the hall churned, and hundreds of arm-length ice spikes formed in mid-air, stabbing at Teest from all directions.
The Lich seemed like an experienced and skilled performer. As the ice spike spell took shape, it pressed down with both hands, and a huge rock fell from the ceiling with a rumble.
The ice spikes scratched Teest’s arm, and blood gushed out in an instant.
At the same time, a healing spell’s glow flashed, and the deepest wound vanished without a trace. Teest acted as if he felt no pain. He elegantly spun backward, and the huge rock landed right by his heel.
The Lich’s attacks were getting faster and faster. The white-haired knight was like a snowflake in a gust of wind, seemingly able to melt at a single touch, yet it remained elusive.
Always just a bit short, always missing by that little bit.
Worse still, the knight would occasionally flash in front of him, accurately dealing magical backfire. It was nothing but a filthy insect, daring to harm his noble body.
Between his attacks, the Lich would pause and glance at the throne.
A shabby skeleton was sitting up straight, with its will-o’-wisps eyes burning fiercely in its eye sockets. Just a skeleton soldier; an insignificant minor character. But the Lich had an intuition that everything was connected to it. The knight was only human, tender as a young grapevine in early autumn. There should not be a human in the world—at least not a living one—who could understand his fighting style so well.
Since those two guys conjured rings out of thin air, his once imminent victory had become uncertain.
“Who are you?” Valdorlock yelled at the skeleton, looking past the knight.
He searched his lengthy memories, trying to find a match, but found nothing.
Nol ignored him, busy directing Teest’s movements. After more than an hour had passed, they had whittled the Lich’s HP down by about 5%.
At this rate, Teest would have to attack non-stop for over thirty six hours. “Tahe” utilized the principle of dreams; an hour in the game was only ten minutes in reality. Even so, the length of this battle was still frightening.
Their fight had only just begun.
The Lich withdrew his gaze unhappily. No answer was necessary; once he had dealt with the knight, there would be plenty of time. Yes, he couldn’t catch that slippery little knight, but the Lich was merely annoyed, not panicked.
Wounds could be healed, stamina could be recovered, but human concentration had its limits. The knight had to maintain focus during high-intensity combat; one mistake would cost him his life. The question then arose: How long could a fragile living person endure?
Six hours.
A mocking smile hung from the Lich’s lips. Teest was bombarded by AOE magic, and blood started to blossom on him.
Twelve hours.
Teest stood above the water with small wounds covering his body. His coarse shirt was soaked with blood, and the blood mingled with the cold water, dripping down his pale fingertips. His silver hair was also stained with blood, making him look like a handsome ghost drifting there.
But he was still standing; his golden eyes sparkling with excitement.
Eighteen hours.
The Lich felt uneasy. The skeleton on the throne made it worried, and the knight before it filled it with doubt.
For eighteen continuous hours, with countless judgments made in fractions of a second, apart from the unavoidable scratches, his opponent hadn’t made a single mistake. Whether it was the skeleton’s control over the knight’s state or the knight’s mental power, all could be described as “terrifying”.
What exactly was their background?
……
Teest shook the leg bone in his hand, splattering blood into the standing water so it wouldn’t be so slippery.
Another flash of white light enveloped him, erasing the cold and fatigue from blood loss. Teest didn’t even look at his own condition; his eyes were fixed on one place—
The Lich’s skin was peeling off, exposing the dark red, shriveled flesh, and his HP was down to 23%.
Now his anger was visible to the naked eye.
Unlike his initial casual approach, the Lich’s casting speed was approaching its limit. Countless brutal spells followed one after another, enough to kill him hundreds or thousands of times in an instant.
“How about it? Ready to let us go?” Teest dodged a series of black magic circles and spoke for the first time in the battle. “Honestly, we didn’t mean to provoke you. e just got lost—”
“Sacrilege against the throne, insulting me. Either one is a capital offense!” the Lich shouted sternly.
Teest shrugged. “So not letting you kill is an insult to you, alright then.”
“A knight without a master naturally doesn’t understand what ‘honor’ is.” The Lich grinned, revealing his rotten teeth.
“So you have a master then?”
“I am forever loyal to my king.” The Lich spread his hands, and two head-sized balls of black light appeared in his palms, crawling with dark red arcs like lightning. A chilling power spread, continuously creating ripples on the water’s surface.
“How loyal.” Teest smiled. “What’s your king’s name?”
“A foolish question. Listen well. The owner of this throne, the ruler of my life, his name is—”
The Lich’s voice stopped abruptly, and even the attacks from his hands halted.
“…I don’t remember,” he muttered dreamily a few seconds later. “I can’t recall.”
Teest burst into mocking laughter. With his body covered in blood, it made his laughter seem particularly scornful.
“You’re no better than me, a Lich that forgets his master,” he said cheerfully, even casually stuffing a piece of jerky into his mouth.
Lich Valdorlock raised his hand, erupting into an angry scream.
Thousands of shadow bolts, torrents of ice spikes, and ominous black light charged straight at Teest.
Nol gritted his teeth, racked his brains, and calculated the evasion space with all his might. If he weren’t so far away, he would want to grab Teest by the collar and shake him—why did you deliberately provoke him?
He almost instantly gave the location to dodge, but Teest didn’t move.
The white-haired knight lowered his hands and stood still. His pupils reflected the rapidly approaching magical brilliance.
A chill ran down Nol’s spine. Was Teest tired and trying to forcefully log out?
The blood-streaked figure was engulfed by light and shadow. The lich bent its mouth into a mocking smile, and the next moment, its whole face froze.
“You…”
In the blink of an eye, the Lich Valdorlock’s HP rapidly depleted, and countless cracks appeared on his surface. He had no time to voice his question before he exploded into ashes in an instant.
Black ashes drifted, and a palm-sized black box fell into the water, causing ripples to spread in circles.
The battle ended without warning; the noise of fighting that filled the hall vanished instantly, leaving the entire space eerily empty.
In a rare moment, Nol was stunned.
Teest wobbled as he stood in place. His exposed skin—including his face—was all torn and bloody. Nol hurriedly cast a healing spell. Teest lifted his bloodstained face, smiled nonchalantly, and tossed a small brown object to him.
“For you,” he said.
Nol caught it instinctively; it was a piece of jerky—
[Monster Jerky [Homemade]: After consumption, the user’s HP drops to 1, reflecting all damage received within 5 seconds.
※ The rebound damage will be calculated based on the enemy’s defense.]
Nol was momentarily speechless.
For intelligent opponents, this kind of trick would, at most, work once.
To defeat the enemy with one blow, Teest had to understand the Lich’s defense reduction, spell power, and remaining HP like the back of his hand and ensure that the opponent attacked him like mad within five seconds.
To estimate the Lich’s attributes, Teest had patiently fought for over twenty hours. To force the Lich to attack heavily, he had also deliberately provoked him with words… Thinking about it, this guy had been talking to the Lich even before the fight officially began.
“What’s that saying again? Husband and wife should help each other.” Teest unevenly walked towards the throne. “I can’t always be your puppet, honey.”
He panted as he stepped on the stairs, not standing steady, and fell forward. Nol rushed over to catch him, but unfortunately, the skeleton soldier wasn’t robust, and the two ended up in a heap on the stairs.
Hot blood soaked Nol’s bones.
Up close, Teest’s various wounds were incredibly horrifying. There shouldn’t be such injuries in the game, Nol thought, but so far, too many “things that shouldn’t exist in the game” had appeared.
However—
[Lich Valdorlock has been slain.]
The system prompt sounded normally, and a soft female voice once again entered their heads.
[You have completed the special quest: The Fallen Guardian.]
[Beginning reward calculation.]
The author has something to say:
<<Shocking, a man is actually flirting with a skeleton in the underground! The only witness was silenced!>>
The Lich, in heaven, resentfully submitted.
————————————
Though not very important, a brief explanation is still needed:
The Lich quest was accepted by the two of them separately. When they started the fight, they were in a special team-up status, and the damage was counted as team damage.
So, even though Nol didn’t directly attack the Lich, he still completed the mission.
Dong Zhi looked up and saw the tall mountains in the distance. Not too far ahead, he and Liu Si would have to disembark the vehicle and walk halfway around the mountain before entering the gorge. He could only speed up the progress of reading the notes.
[August 13th, Beijing.
Returning from Yinchuan, the Archfiend was eliminated, and Fujikawa and his party were detained pending trial. I plan to exchange him for Dong Jilan.
However, I also know that Dong Jilan’s chances of survival are slim. Although I have lived for many years and witnessed many regrets with my own eyes, I still remember Dong Jilan’s fearlessness before his departure. Several years ago, when I went to see him off, he had already foreseen that he might lurk in Japan for many years, or perhaps never come back.
Every time I visit the Martyrs’ Cemetery, I can see the solemnity and heroism on the faces of the newcomers. Although humans are indeed small and weak, there is always a noble brilliance shining among them. They are willing to sacrifice for their beliefs, and this belief may not only be for the sake of humanity itself but also for other species or the space for the survival of all species. It is precisely this kind of character that allows humans, despite their many flaws, to still stand above all living beings.]
[August 14th, Beijing.
He Yu and Kan Chaosheng found out about my decision to take on an apprentice and kept asking me about it. I told Kan Chaosheng that, depending on his performance, I could deduct He Yu’s bonus and give it to him appropriately, and then he went to pester He Yu.
This is killing two birds with one stone.]
[August 20th. I overheard a conversation between He Yu and Dong Zhi.
He Yu asked Dong Zhi if he sometimes felt that I was too strict.
I don’t think of myself as strict. People say that the relationship between master and apprentice is like that between father and son. In a sense, it is a responsibility. I am responsible for his life, and the best way to ensure that is by setting strict demands and not allowing him to make any mistakes, so he won’t lose his life in practical action. Dong Zhi had a lower starting point than others, so if he really wants to enter this line of work, he has to face reality.
I thought Dong Zhi would be constrained by emotions and say some ambiguous words or complain to He Yu, but his answer surprised me. He said I am a very gentle person, and all the strictness is only for the sake of others. He mentioned seeing me feed a stray cat, saying I am more like a rambutan, covered in long thorns that seem tough, but those thorns are soft. Peel away the tough exterior, and you will find sweet and tender flesh inside.
I have eaten rambutan before, and it does resemble his description, but I don’t think I am exactly what he described. However, eavesdropping is impolite, even if it was unintentional. I don’t plan to mention this matter to him.]
[August 30th. The assignments for this batch of newcomers have been finalized, and they are about to depart to various places.
This year, we have many new people who managed to stay, each with their own abilities. This is good news. The young will always surpass the old, and the Special Administration Bureau will eventually pass on from one generation to another.]
[August 31st. Farewell.
Dong Zhi bought me a box of mooncakes, saying that he won’t be by my side during the Mid-Autumn Festival, so he’s celebrating it with me in advance.
In fact, I have never really celebrated any festivals. When He Yu and others didn’t come, I spent every year working. After Group 2 was formed, sometimes I would celebrate the Spring Festival with He Yu and others, but it was just having a meal together. I still can’t understand humans’ attachment to reunions. Perhaps I have experienced too many farewells; to me, it’s all just a cycle of gathering and parting.
But when Dong Zhi said to me, “Master, this box of mooncakes represents my heart, and I hope that every year from now on, you’ll be happy and content,” I was suddenly moved.
I think I will remember every word he said, until… my life comes to an end?]
[September 1st. Cantonese-style mooncakes have thick crusts, but I still prefer the thin crusts of Suzhou-style mooncakes.
However, this is the first gift from my first disciple, so I’ll finish them. After writing this sentence, I realized that I have started paying attention to some unnecessary formalities. It’s not a good habit.]
[September 5th. Before leaving, Dong Zhi left me a painting and a sketchbook, both drawn by him. The sketchbook contains the places he has visited in recent years, landscapes, and people. He even drew me in my daily routine, Kan Chaosheng turned into a cat eating, He Yu lying on the sofa playing games, and Zhong Yuyi sitting at the dining table lost in thought.
Before leaving, I infused a trace of my soul into the Changshou Sword, allowing me to sense his dangerous situations at any time. I know this is not ideal, as letting a fledgling bird have no room for retreat is not the best way for him to grow. But as his master, it’s the only thing I can do for him.]
[September 16th. There might be hidden secrets about Otowa Yasuhiko’s identity.]
[September 20th. Otowa may have set up a trap, possibly related to the stone tablets. Still unresolved, needs further investigation.]
[September 22nd. I infused vitality into that Yulu plant. At some level, I feel a connection with it, and I can hear the sounds it recorded. However, I prefer not to indulge in listening.]
Seeing this, Dong Zhi couldn’t help but sigh silently. Many mysteries that had been lingering in his mind were unraveled.
An abrupt brake caused the two people in the back seat to lean forward involuntarily. Along with the driver’s exclamation, Dong Zhi looked up and found that the sky had darkened without them noticing. Fierce winds were carrying sand and debris everywhere, and soon, large raindrops fell, pounding against the car windows, creating loud and noisy sounds.
The driver was a soldier and a local, familiar with the road conditions. Liu Si asked him, “Sir, is this kind of weather common?”
“It’s quite rare. I seldom see the wind blowing this hard,” the driver replied, sounding worried. The speed of the car slowed down, but the rain intensified, turning into a storm. The road was flooded with mud that even the excellent performance of the jeep couldn’t keep it from getting stuck in the mud.
Helpless, the three of them had to get out of the car and push it. Liu Si asked the driver to start the engine while they pushed from behind. After a lot of effort, they finally got the car unstuck. By this time, the rain was so heavy that everything was isolated. Even if two people shouted at each other face to face, they might not be able to hear what the other was saying. Not only rain but also the wind was fierce, making the surroundings hazy and indistinct. The windshield wipers were no longer effective, so the driver had to stop the car and wait for the storm to pass.
But from this sudden downpour, both Dong Zhi and Liu Si could sense that something was unusual.
They weren’t far from their destination, and they didn’t know if this rare weather change was related to the situation on Long Shen’s side.
Back inside the warm car, all three of them shivered.
Dong Zhi took a clean towel, but instead of drying his hair, he wrapped up his notebook to keep it from getting wet. Liu Si saw this and thoughtfully handed him another towel.
With the car unable to move, they could only wait for the weather to clear. There was no use being anxious. Liu Si chatted with the driver about anything and everything, while Dong Zhi placed a towel on his knee and reopened the notebook, flipping to the page he hadn’t finished reading last time.
……
[October 10th. Southeast Asia. It’s likely that someone is plotting something related to demons.]
[October 11th. Dong Zhi may be the target of a curse. Through the infusion of my soul into the Changshou Sword, I saw a man trying to invade his body through dreams. He should be an unformed demon, but the demonic qi is stronger than what I have encountered before.]
[October 13th. The Shanghai International Conference. Originally, I didn’t have to go, but I offered to go in the end.]
[October 15th. Wu Bingtian is getting a bit anxious. He suggested going to Japan directly to kill Otawa Yasuhiko. As we haven’t clarified Otowa’s background, I disagree with acting rashly.]
[October 16th. We argued again.
I don’t deny that Wu Bingtian’s perspective has some validity. Removing Otowa could indeed solve most of the problems, but the other party is unlikely to be unguarded. Perhaps he is waiting for us to come to him.]
[October 22nd. Dong Zhi’s situation is more serious than I imagined.
However, I suddenly realized that the anger from before is no longer an issue at this moment. As long as he can live well.]
……
Dong Zhi noticed that the records related to him ended here. Long Shen didn’t add any new content until the conversation with Zong Ling before their departure, which he recorded. Perhaps, at that time, he already knew that Dong Zhi might see this notebook.
Though the depth of feelings couldn’t be compared, before seeing this notebook, Dong Zhi once wondered if Long Shen accepted his confession due to the uncertainty of his life and the limited time left. However, after reading the notebook, he had no more doubts in his heart. Holding the notebook in his hands felt like holding a heavy heart.
The rain had stopped at some point, and the car hit the road again. However, the road conditions were poor, and the driver drove slowly.
Liu Si looked at Dong Zhi and asked, “Not reading anymore?”
Dong Zhi rubbed his eyes and said, “I’ve finished reading.”
Liu Si glanced ahead and furrowed his brows slightly. “We have to get off and walk. The road ahead is too muddy and dangerous. The car can’t continue.”
Dong Zhi also found that the road ahead was muddy and dangerous, confirming what Liu Si had said.
Two people bid farewell to the driver and walked ahead after getting out of the car.
The Lengele Gorge wasn’t far from this place, but since it wasn’t an open scenic area, there were hardly any people around, and the road was extremely rugged and difficult to traverse. It required ascending to the halfway point of the mountain and then descending diagonally. For an ordinary person, it would probably take several days and nights to walk this distance. However, Dong Zhi and Liu Si were practitioners, so they left most of their luggage in the car and only brought water and dry food with them. Traveling light, they quickly climbed up to the middle of the mountain.
But the terrifying and unpredictable weather struck again. This time, it wasn’t pouring rain, but fist-sized hail.
Dark clouds above condensed into clusters, and hail fell one after another. The two quickly pulled up the hoods behind their down jackets, but the hail hitting their bodies through the clothes was still dangerous. They had to find a place with protruding rocks to take a short break.
While searching for such a spot, they encountered two young people who were out for wilderness exploration.
These two individuals were amateur mountaineers who specifically sought excitement during their vacations. The area they were in had already been sealed off, and no one was allowed to enter. However, the Kunlun Mountains were vast, and these two somehow managed to enter, and even when they realized how dangerous the terrain was, they still dared to venture further in. Supposedly, there was another defense line outside the Lengele Gorge, so even if these two managed to reach there, they would still be stopped.
Upon seeing Dong Zhi and Liu Si, the two explorers assumed they were lost adventurers as well and were overjoyed.
“Hey, buddies, are you also here for exploration? This path is tough. Are you continuing forward? If you are, let’s go together!” said the taller of the two.
Liu Si frowned and said, “There are military activities going on nearby, and they have restricted entry. You shouldn’t go any further. If you continue, you will be stopped!”
The shorter young man was unconvinced. “But why are you still…?”
Before he could finish his sentence, he realized the situation. If the other party knew about the military activities, they couldn’t be ordinary people.
Although they were also dressed casually, the shorter one noticed that Dong Zhi had something resembling a long sword behind his back, which didn’t look like the equipment of “military personnel”.
The hail grew larger, accompanied by lightning and thunder. The edge of the distant cloud clusters even revealed a purplish-black color, as if a vortex was brewing underneath.
The two outdoor adventurers were astonished. Although they pursued mountain climbing as a hobby, they had never seen such strange and eerie phenomena before.
The taller one murmured, “No wonder they say Lengele Gorge is evil. It seems true!”
Just then, a lightning bolt flashed, illuminating the sky as bright as day. Even though it was daytime, the lightning significantly increased the brightness of the sky. Thunder followed closely, exploding in their ears. Before the two outdoor adventurers could react, they saw Dong Zhi unsheathing his long sword-like object and sweeping it overhead.
At that moment, the taller one thought he might lose his head, while the shorter one suddenly realized that his previous guess was correct—the other party indeed carried a sword.
While the thoughts flashed through their minds, Dong Zhi had redirected the lightning away with his sword.
A loud crash brought the two adventurers back to reality. They looked at the nearby stone that had been split into blackened pieces and realized that if it weren’t for Dong Zhi, they would have met the same fate as the stone.
The two men looked at each other, and the taller one cautiously said, “Master, we didn’t know any better just now. Sorry for calling you ‘buddies’. Please don’t take offense!”
Dong Zhi felt both amused and exasperated. “I told you this place is dangerous. Why didn’t you believe me? Hurry and leave. Go that way, bypass the mountain ahead, and you’ll find a road. I’ll give you a phone number, call it, and someone will come to pick you up.”
The shorter one asked in a daze, “Aliens?”
Dong Zhi replied, “…Military personnel.”
Liu Si also found these two quite amusing, but the timing was wrong. They couldn’t allow ordinary people to enter the Lengele Gorge.
The strangeness of the weather here lay in the fact that no matter how terrifying the scene was, it came and went at will. In just a few words exchanged by the four of them, the dark clouds in the sky had already dispersed, the sun had revealed its true face, and the hail had disappeared. Even the thunder strikes from earlier seemed like mere illusions. If it weren’t for the shattered boulder still present, the two adventurers would almost think they were dreaming.
“Um, Master, the hail has stopped, and the sun is out. Can we continue following you two?” The taller one asked cautiously.
Dong Zhi’s expression turned serious. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”
He casually manipulated the sword flower, and the light and shadows flickered, causing the two men to stop protesting immediately. They thanked Dong Zhi and Liu Si before leaving in the direction indicated by Liu Si.
After walking a distance, the taller man turned back and jogged toward Dong Zhi and Liu Si with a smile. “Hey, Master, could you leave me your phone number? I can never repay you for saving our lives, but once we get out, let us treat you to a meal!”
Since Dong Zhi joined the Special Administration Bureau, he had two phone numbers—one that was operational 24/7 for official business and another irrelevant private number. He gave the private number to the taller man, who expressed deep gratitude before leaving with his companion.
After walking for a while, the brief interlude didn’t delay them much. After all, they couldn’t travel during the hailstorm. However, Dong Zhi was still worried about Long Shen’s safety, so he quickened his pace. They encountered a few light showers and one large-scale thunderstorm on the way, but they didn’t avoid them. As evening approached, they finally arrived outside the Lengele Gorge.
Scattered figures appeared within their sight. They were members of the Special Administration Bureau stationed outside the canyon by Song Zhicun to prevent unrelated people like the two mountaineers from entering recklessly.
After the destruction of the Kunlun Mountain stone tablet, personnel from the headquarters, branches, and local areas were sent over to assist. Among those stationed outside, Dong Zhi immediately recognized two familiar faces—Ba Sang and Gu Meiren. They had entered the Special Administration Bureau at the same time as him and also completed their training together.
The sky darkened once again, and in an instant, dark clouds covered the sky, with purple-black vortexes slowly forming in the cloud layers. It seemed like a sign that something was about to descend. The air masses gradually moved, finally converging above the canyon, right where Long Shen and the others were, making it a thrilling sight.
Although it was a pleasant surprise to meet old acquaintances, there was no mood for pleasantries at this moment. Ba Sang and Gu Meiren must have heard why Dong Zhi rushed over. Without waiting for them to ask, Dong Zhi said, “Boss Long and the others have been inside for two days and two nights. I heard that Sect Master Xin had an accident, and now Boss Song is temporarily taking over!”
Gu Meiren added, “Before you came, Liu Qingbo and the others arrived too. Now Liu Qingbo is temporarily in charge inside.”
Originally, the Special Administration Bureau was under Song Zhicun’s command. However, when Sect Master Xin’s array encountered problems, he was temporarily replaced, which meant both he and Long Shen were inside the array. He Yu had to guard him, leaving no one to oversee the headquarters. It wasn’t possible for everyone to rush over, and the situation became somewhat chaotic with no clear leader. While there were other disciples from various sects with considerable experience here, they couldn’t command the Special Administration Bureau. At this moment, Liu Qingbo, who had brought Li Han’er and Yang Shouyi here, took charge.
Although he lacked management experience, he had served as the deputy team captain during the exchange conference, and no one was interested in competing for power at this critical moment. His loud shout managed to barely maintain order and prevent any disturbance to the people inside the array.
Dong Zhi heard their words but had no time to be amazed at how Liu Qingbo had finally developed a commanding presence. Together with Liu Si, he hurriedly rushed inside.
Watching Dong Zhi’s back, Gu Meiren suddenly sighed, “He has become much thinner!”
Ba Sang said, “But he has also become stronger.”
Gu Meiren nodded. After what Ba Sang said, she noticed that Dong Zhi’s aura was indeed much stronger than before. As cultivators, their senses were more acute and discerning. They had entered the Special Administration Bureau together. Even though Dong Zhi, as an ordinary person at the time, had a lower starting point than them, some people were destined to shine brightly. Even if they were mistakenly regarded as gravel and their brilliance was obscured temporarily, they would eventually astonish the world.
Gu Meiren knew that the current Dong Zhi was incomparable to his past self, and compared to them, he had surpassed them all.
The crisis before them was no longer just about their safety or the situation on Kunlun Mountain. It was a catastrophe involving all living beings. A few people here were holding up the heavens and earth, while the countless beings outside were still oblivious to the impending disaster.
Flying sand and rolling stones.
This was the first impression Dong Zhi and Liu Si felt after entering the canyon. If the feeling outside was not so apparent, then inside the canyon, the further they went, the more they could deeply experience the difficulty of every step.
The sky wasn’t pitch dark, but rather a dimness akin to the period before dawn, permeated with a hazy gray. Accompanying this dimness was the relentless swirling of wild sand, making it almost impossible to keep their eyes open. The sand was mixed with ice pellets that felt like icy blades, stinging their faces.
However, no matter how harsh the weather was, it couldn’t deter Dong Zhi and Liu Si’s progress. They persevered through the fierce wind and faintly saw some figures within their sight. They estimated they weren’t far from Long Shen and the others, thinking that they should walk a little faster.
Suddenly, a loud noise came from ahead, like something had exploded, causing the ground to shake. Dong Zhi heard someone shouting, “Danger in the northeast corner,” and his heart sank.
Guarding the northeast corner was a Living Buddha from the Gelug sect. Although someone capable enough to be invited here must be an outstanding cultivator, this master was already old and weakened. Even though his disciples were protecting him, the continuous consumption for two days and two nights would have long overwhelmed an ordinary person. His ability to persist until now was truly remarkable.
Equally dangerous as the broken seal in the northeast corner was Long Shen at the center of the array.
Black demonic qi swirled like an imprisoned tornado within the array, rampaging and restless, unable to break free. This made Long Shen’s temper become increasingly agitated. The inescapable demonic qi seemed to treat Long Shen as a vent for its rage, wanting to use him as a sacrifice to be devoured and crushed. However, despite remaining motionless and silent, Long Shen wasn’t as easy to “bite” as the demonic qi thought. Instead, he was gradually absorbing it into himself.
The violent wind gradually subsided a bit, but the black mist inside the array became denser. Dong Zhi saw the turbulent demonic qi swirling around Long Shen and noticed him absorbing it. Without anyone explaining, Dong Zhi quickly understood his intention—Long Shen was trying to rely solely on himself to draw all the demonic qi surging out from the abyssal passage into his body and then seal the passage with his own sacrifice.
But in doing so, what was the point of him coming all the way here?
Was he only supposed to watch Long Shen die?
If he rushed in now, he would likely disrupt the array that everyone had worked hard to set up. Dong Zhi clenched his teeth, resisting this idea, and manipulated talismans to stabilize the Living Buddha’s position.
Suddenly, the array trembled violently. Dong Zhi was too focused on maintaining the front position and was caught off guard, falling backward. However, Li Han’er steadied him from behind. Yet, everyone’s attention was soon diverted by He Yu’s exclamation.
All the demonic qi that had been hovering and flowing within the array was suddenly “absorbed” by Long Shen. Everyone watched as Long Shen pulled out a long sword from his hand, and its radiance transformed into thousands. He sealed the gap to the abyssal hell. Then, Long Shen slowly opened his eyes and looked in their direction.
As everyone made eye contact with him, they couldn’t help but shudder at the evil aura inside his eyes, as if they had seen boundless malevolence.
Resentment, greed, jealousy, arrogance, slaughter—those were the demons in everyone’s hearts and also the soil that nurtured the demonic qi.
However, these emotions should never have appeared in Long Shen.
“Master!” Dong Zhi’s eyes filled with tears.
Long Shen trembled slightly, and his bright red eyes seemed to regain some clarity. He fixedly looked at his raised hand, seemingly contemplating what he had intended to do just now. Blood overflowed from the corner of his mouth, as if he had exhausted all his willpower to suppress the raging demonic qi within him.
Then, Long Shen opened his eyes and said a few words to Dong Zhi. Before anyone could react, he stood up and leaped toward the abyssal passage!
The wind whistled with sand and stones flying by. Dong Zhi didn’t hear clearly what Long Shen said, but he recognized it from his lip movements.
Xiang Jiang was awakened by the smell of poor-quality candles.
When he woke up, he was wearing loose work clothes, and his limbs were covered in talismans. His brother, Xiang Hai, had only slightly better treatment, but Xiang Jiang could recognize the aura of ghost-suppressing techniques even with his eyes closed.
The room they were in was filled with densely packed local deity figurines, and on the ceiling, human hair was braided into ropes to suspend the figurines in the air. Underneath various smiling faces, everything was surrounded by darkness, and the small figurines swayed like hanging ghosts, adding a touch of eeriness.
In the center of the room, there was a pile of brightly colored red candles melted together. Within the melted wax, black ashes floated up and down. The candle flames flickered without wind, and the shadows of the figurines in the entire room varied in length, crawling around like living creatures.
Seeing these folk-style deity artifacts, Xiang Hai curled up in pain next to Xiang Jiang, folding his wings inside his body. The two clung tightly to each other, and it was hard to tell who was the living person and who was the deceased.
“Don’t be afraid.” Xiang Jiang forced himself to speak.
He tasted the taste of blood on his lips. His throat was dry and burning, and his muscles and bones all ached. Even the treatment given to condemned prisoners in Shian wasn’t this bad. A bitter smile gradually appeared at the corner of Xiang Jiang’s mouth; he knew where they were.
The territory of Sunken Society.
In the back mountain behind the school, Ge Tingting and Huang Jin suddenly turned against each other under the control of Love. Xiang Jiang naturally looked for an opportunity to escape, but just as he and Xiang Hai had escaped from the encirclement of Shian, several spells suddenly exploded, and he lost consciousness in an instant.
In the last memory, they were being dragged by someone towards a dark gap.
…Just like at this moment.
A black gap split open out of nowhere, causing the figurines to tremble incessantly. The space shook, and in the ripples resembling water waves, a figure broke through the air.
The person was tall and handsome, loosely draped in a reddish-brown robe. Illuminated by the candlelight, the robe faintly revealed patterns resembling fine blood vessels. There seemed to be something wet and shimmering at the corners of the robe, resembling human eyes.
Xiang Jiang leaned against the wall filled with figurines, and his body shrank with vigilance.
He recognized that face.
Everyone who defected from Shian was on a list of the Emergency Management Department, and this “Shen Mo” bore an identical resemblance to the person in the old photo.
Shen Mo, a former member of the Emergency Management Department, was responsible for guiding skilled cultivators like Fu Xingchuan. Xiang Jiang had seen this person’s information before. He used to be an extremely talented ghost master, although he didn’t possess the label of “genius” and belonged to the type who diligently studied.
During the Divine Descent, Shen Mo and Jiao Lian obtained complete “Charon” abilities. Jiao Lian obediently cooperated with Shian for research on the Other Side, while Shen Mo betrayed Shian and directly joined Sunken Society.
Since then, he had practically vanished from the metaphysical world, never appearing openly or engaging in activities.
At this point, looking at the “reddish-brown robe” on the person’s body, which still showed faint signs of breathing, and the black gap behind him, Xiang Jiang could probably guess what Shen Mo had been doing in recent years.
Shen Mo was likely researching the Other Side using a more “radical” approach.
The robe emitted the aura of a powerful cultivator and a suffocating sense of despair. Xiang Jiang was familiar with this state. During the Bai Yongji case, living people also merged into objects like this, unable to seek survival but unable to seek death.
Xiang Jiang’s limbs turned cold, and his thoughts raced frantically.
Is he going to become the next “clothing”? If so, would the other person take action here?
…At the very least, he had to find a way to save Xiang Hai. Xiang Jiang clenched his teeth and stared fixedly at Shen Mo.
“We can be considered senior and junior in this field. You don’t have to be so nervous.”
As if seeing through Xiang Jiang’s thoughts, Shen Mo pulled over the nearest figurine and sat on it like a chair. His body and voice were youthful, but his eyes carried the madness typical of an elderly person.
“I have some understanding of your situation with the Other Side. Not bad, being noticed by the Other Side is considered fortunate. If you have time, shall we chat?”
Xiang Jiang: “…”
At this moment, he had nothing, except perhaps time.
He continued to tense his body, wishing he could blink less.
In contrast, Shen Mo’s tone was relaxed to the point of being irritating. “I am a Charon. The things from the Other Side have always had some grievances with me—they don’t like having humans meddling in their affairs. Whether it’s Fu Wuyan from the Fu family or your Minister Jiao, they all failed because of this. That kid Wei Huaqian kept yearning to become a Charon, but no amount of persuasion could dissuade him.”
‘Isn’t this hitting oneself?’ Xiang Jiang thought with a bitter smile. Even if he and Xiang Hai were at their peak, they couldn’t defeat a true Charon.
So he could only remain quietly huddled, slowly shifting his body to block Xiang Hai even more.
“…Let’s stop the small talk here. I roughly know what you want to do. I specifically invited you here to introduce you to some friends from the Other Side.”
Shen Mo casually shifted his posture, turning his body towards Xiang Hai.
“They have a connection with Sunken Society. There’s no need to go through me.” Xiang Jiang finally spoke.
“Come on, it’s purely a business connection.” Shen Mo shrugged. “They provide the source of corruption, and we provide the research results. There have been a few unpleasant incidents during the process—I understand, after all, Sunken Society is not capable on its own; it’s only fit to be a research institution for them.”
Xiang Jiang mechanically responded, “So what?”
“A skinny camel is still bigger than a horse*. After so many years, the contacts and experiences accumulated by Sunken Society, they need them to some extent. You should understand this deeply. Humans themselves are the group that understands human vulnerability the most.”
*(瘦死的骆驼比马大) Idiom referring to even though something or someone may be in a weakened or disadvantaged state, they still hold more value or significance compared to others who may appear stronger or more capable. It emphasizes the relative importance or worth of a situation or individual, regardless of their current condition.
Shen Mo slowly stroked his own living robe.
“If you want to do something in a foreign land, it’s always easier to have a local guide who’s familiar with the territory… I only need one meeting—to meet the person you’re connected with.”
“Why?” Xiang Jiang remained silent for a long time before weakly questioning.
“As long as the corruption source is spread, Sunken Society will have as much business as they want. Contacting the Other Side inevitably comes with an additional cost.”
“Because I want more.” Shen Mo smiled without speaking. “Of course, it’s a trade. I will provide the best ghost sacrifices from Sunken Society for your brother. As for you, I will help you become stronger—so that you won’t have to rely on corruption and can use your special abilities.”
Shen Mo leaned forward and extended his hand. Amidst the dancing candlelight, his five fingers were still stained with bright bloodstains and suspicious mucus.
“Our goals align.” Shen Mo smiled arrogantly.
Xiang Jiang stared at Shen Mo for about half a minute. Shen Mo patiently held out his hand, which showed no signs of trembling, as if he had turned into a statue. And around Shen Mo, various strange figurines were illuminated by the candlelight, with shadows curling at the corners of their mouths, laughing in a creepy and unified manner.
Shen Mo seemed like one of them.
After a silent moment, Xiang Jiang grasped the offered hand.
“You want everyone to go insane, don’t you?” Shen Mo spoke softly. “Rest assured, I’ll make you the strongest propagator of madness.”
……
“I will take full responsibility for training in the upcoming investigation of the Other Side.” Qi Xin clapped her hands. “All of you, remember this place well in your minds.”
The Other Side Expedition Team—Unit 9, along with Fu Tianyi and Qi Xin—was standing in a peculiar white room.
The floor, walls, and ceiling were all pure white, causing discomfort to the eyes. The walls of the room were made of an unknown material, and the floor was remarkably soft when stepped on, with no wrinkles or dirt on the walls. The monotonous piano tune of “Happy Birthday” played on a loop within the room, and the air was filled with a suffocating scent of soap.
The environment was monotonous yet striking, like an ice pick stabbing into the brain. If it weren’t for the large number of people entering at once, this place could be considered the top-level containment room for the most severe mental patients.
Or the kind where the most insane patients of the year were confined.
In this eerie setting, everyone dared not breathe too heavily and unintentionally took smaller steps. Without coordination, they walked towards the center of the room, where several dark-colored patches could be seen on the floor—
There, six photographs were neatly arranged.
The photos were facing upwards, each one a solo portrait of every member of the expedition team.
Ignoring the confusion and unease of the others, Qi Xin paced around the room and emphasized, “You must remember the size and appearance of this room well. You should be able to recall it completely with your eyes closed.”
“What’s there to remember?” Huang Jin whispered.
Knowing that he was going to the Other Side, he had written a transfer application overnight. Whether it was due to drafting too much or Huang Jin’s exceptional performance, the application was heartfelt and brought tears to people’s eyes.
Faced with this application that was over 10,000 words long, Fu Xingchuan replied with only this:
“If you insist on the request, I will definitely approve it. However, if this exploration is successful, it will be a significant achievement. We will report the situation and, depending on the circumstances, remove your ‘prisoner’ status.”
In the office, Fu Xingchuan tore a piece of paper and swiftly wrote down a string of zeros.
“There will also be a substantial bonus, which can be provided from the research funds of the Other Side. This is an important task related to social stability, and the reward must not be meager.”
Huang Jin paid no attention to it.
Prisoner status? He would rather stay in prison than do this life-threatening job. He had suffered enough and would not be deceived by Shian’s tricks again. As for the money… Huang Jin let out a cold snort and glanced at the paper with the strings of zeros.
“I’m going to prepare for the mission,” Huang Jin said loudly. “I will withdraw the application.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Huang Jin answered decisively.
That was what he said, but last night Huang Jin tossed and turned and couldn’t bring himself to delete the text. He saved it as a document, placing it prominently in the center of his computer desktop, which made him feel a bit better.
Sure enough, as soon as the investigation took its first step, things started to get weird. Huang Jin looked left and right in the white room, which was as organized as a computer model, and there were no memorable details worth remembering. The only thing worth mentioning was the room’s door—
That was the only door in the room, painted in a glaring bright red, a color so pure it was blinding. No matter where he stood, the red door seemed to emit a series of screams, capturing attention at every moment.
Huang Jin shook his head, crouching down cautiously. He picked up his own photograph.
In the photo, Ding Lizi was playing the guitar in the sunlight of a hospital room, and he had chosen the most suitable position for a “selfie”, capturing a group photo that didn’t look like a group photo. Both their faces carried smiles amidst the gentle warm tones.
The photo had a slightly stiff and heavy feel to it. Huang Jin flipped it over and saw a thin board attached to the back of the photo, as if it were a menu clip used by waiters to take orders.
To see the back of the photo, he had to carefully lift the rigid photograph and look through the V-shaped gap between the plastic board and the photo.
On the back of his photo were five lines of text. These words were written on thin paper and carefully pasted. At first glance, it was almost impossible to detect any traces of pasting.
[Girlfriend? Fu Tianyi]
[Candid shots are not good. Ge Tingting]
[Wishing Miss Ding a speedy recovery. Lu Xiaohe]
[Ding Lizi, guitar, Huang Jin. Zhong Chengshuo]
[When will you confess? Yin Ren]
They were evaluations and signatures from each of his companions, but Huang Jin didn’t know what significance they held. Were they supposed to bring this inside? Wasn’t it said that dead objects couldn’t be brought to the Other Side? Huang Jin had a sense of unease. Having this photo with him was similar to a sign of “returning to his hometown to get married after the war”.
Looking at the photos of the others—
In Yin Ren’s photo, Zhong Chengshuo was running around the kitchen with a pot, as if searching for something. Yin Ren was biting into a small lamb chop, proudly making a “V” sign.
In Zhong Chengshuo’s photo, Yin Ren was taking a nap on the sofa. Zhong Chengshuo carefully leaned his head over, taking a serious selfie.
Lu Xiaohe’s photo was a childhood picture with her mother. Ge Tingting’s was a selfie taken while eating hot pot with Unit 9. Fu Tianyi’s was taken in front of their family’s Great Celestial Master shrine, where he had his hands clasped together with a subtle expression, showing a kind of resignation.
Huang Jin had seen all these photos and had written a sentence of evaluation as requested. Shian had collected their personal photos in advance, so Huang Jin thought they would be used for the Schrödinger’s Awards ceremony, but who knew they would be used here.
Unable to figure it out, he let it go.
Huang Jin glanced at the “Candid shots are not good” written on the back of the photo and was about to find Ge Tingting to clarify a few things when Qi Xin froze him in place with a look.
“Take your own photos with you and keep them close to you,” she said. “I’ll explain everything to you when we arrive on the Other Side. Have you all remembered the room?”
Everyone placed their photos in a safe place and nodded in succession.
“Very well.” Qi Xin took the lead towards the red door. “Now it’s time to go.”
The white room was built underground in Shian, and the temporary passage wasn’t far away. When they caught sight of the passage, Yin Ren hitched his breath.
The passage was roughly spherical, presenting a uniform black-gray color with a small round point of pure black at the center. Coupled with the strange sense of rotation around it, the entire passage resembled a vortex.
It had a diameter of about one and a half meters and was locked in the middle of a snowy white laboratory.
Just like a dark gray pupil.
Yin Ren had a strange feeling—not that they were staring at it, but that it was staring at them.
Unlike the tranquility of the gap, just standing next to it felt as if one’s entire body was being licked by a cold, viscous tongue. Even someone as strong as Yin Ren felt a momentary dizziness.
Yin Ren quickly took half a step back and took a few breaths with Zhong Chengshuo beside him, before quickly regaining clarity.
Qi Xin took the opportunity to step forward. She grabbed a small white mouse from a cage and reached her hand through the passage.
A hissing sound ensued, and the poor white mouse screamed in agony. In full view of everyone, its body was torn apart and elongated by the rotating space. When Qi Xin withdrew her hand, she held a lump of distorted flesh—a mixture of facial features and limbs twitched incessantly.
Ge Tingting couldn’t bear to look and turned her head away, while Fu Tianyi’s gaze gradually became dull.
Qi Xin looked at the deformed mouse in her hand for a while, making clicking sounds with her tongue. Then she took two steps forward and touched the edge of the passage.
In the next moment, Qi Xin’s entire body stretched and deformed, as if being pulled into a vortex. Her body continued to extend and rotate, connecting head to tail. In a matter of four or five seconds, a twisted human body firmly framed the entrance. Limbs and facial features were twisted into a mass of flesh, like a nightmare.
The sense of rotation at the entrance gradually disappeared, replaced by an eerie sense of stillness.
Ironically, Qi Xin herself acted as if nothing had happened, moving her lips, which had elongated to the length of a palm. “I’ve stabilized it. Let’s try again.”
According to the plan, this time it was Yin Ren who picked up a mouse and reached into the vortex. This time, the mouse’s body remained intact, with not a single hair out of place. However, after returning to the human world, it seemed a little dazed, with an infinite dullness and confusion in its small black eyes.
“Alright,” Qi Xin said. “Everyone, go in. Close your eyes for now, I’ll make the arrangements.”
The feeling of passing through the entrance was very strange.
Yin Ren felt a lightness all over, as if stepping into a pool without the sensation of liquid. In the next instant, countless sensations exploded on his nerves like fireworks on a festive day.
He heard muffled news and popular music, smelled the fishy smell of fish guts and the leather in the carriage, felt the soft fur and scales of small animals brushing against his skin, and tasted the sourness of black coffee and the warmth of hot broth on his tongue, all at the same time.
Yin Ren’s five senses were completely disoriented, and his body lost its balance. He couldn’t tell if he was falling, floating up, or staying in place. His senses seemed to have been put into a juicer and blended into messy mud.
Yin Ren subconsciously tried to reach out to Zhong Chengshuo but couldn’t find his own arm. He tried to use his techniques to protect himself, but no matter how he formed the hand seals, the techniques had no effect, with no response from his surroundings.
Until…
[Imagine that white room.]
The thoughts with Qi Xin’s voice directly entered his mind.
[Open your eyes after you hear the music.]
In an instant, that white room surged from his memory. The simple and soft walls, “Happy Birthday” playing in the background, and the strong scent of soap.
The next second, gravity returned, and Yin Ren once again stepped on the soft ground. The melody of “Happy Birthday” continued to play in his ears, and the scent of soap dissipated the various chaotic smells.
Yin Ren opened his eyes.
White walls, red door. Beside him were his startled companions and Qi Xin, who had returned to her original state.
She was wearing a more dignified clerk uniform, just like the day they first saw her. Yin Ren blinked and shifted his gaze, noticing that everyone’s attire had changed slightly.
Huang Jin wore slightly larger work clothes, Ge Tingting wore a commemorative shirt from Shian, Lu Xiaohe’s T-shirt had the words “Social Animal Ground*” printed on it, and Fu Tianyi wore that set of peculiar red clothing and mask.
*(社身畜地) It’s a self-deprecating term expressing one’s current working status and the environment one lives in.
As for Zhong Chengshuo… Zhong Chengshuo’s loose white-lined shirt seemed to be etched in Yin Ren’s mind.
These seemed to be the outfits that each person wore most often or left the deepest impression. Now everyone was collapsed, gasping for breath, except for Zhong Chengshuo, who stood in place as if nothing had happened, carefully observing the surroundings.
“Is this the Other Side?” Ge Tingting finally managed to catch her breath and asked tremulously.
As the words came out, she herself was startled. The words came straight out of her mouth, clearly enunciated, logically coherent, and the symptoms of the ravings had completely disappeared. Huang Jin also looked around in shock, his eyes filled with complete astonishment.
“This is indeed the Other Side,” Qi Xin said.
“Why is it like this?” Ge Tingting pressed on with her questions.
Qi Xin glanced at her, then floated into the air, looking down at everyone.
“The so-called Other Side—using your previous analogy—is a ‘brain network’ composed of the brains and neural structures of all living beings.”
“The perception of visual and auditory senses in living organisms is essentially electrical signals transmitted to the brain. In general, everything that living beings perceive is the information returned by the ‘body’ shell, processed and unified by consciousness.”
Yin Ren listened with a confused mind, while Zhong Chengshuo nodded in agreement.
“Under normal circumstances, a living being’s autonomous consciousness operates within the ‘brain firewall’. However, more basic and fundamental information, such as fear of pain or death and other so-called ‘instincts’ flow within this ‘brain network.'”
Qi Xin explained slowly.
“Now that you have intruded into this place, you are like a kind of virus. Until you learn how to control yourself, you will indiscriminately absorb information. It’s manageable if your perception is chaotic, but if the situation worsens, you may experience a breakdown or disappear completely.”
“‘Imagination’ essentially helps you focus and eliminate other information interference. If you can’t handle it, you can collectively imagine this room.”
Huang Jin swallowed his saliva loudly.
Zhong Chengshuo appeared pensive as he took a step closer to Yin Ren. “I see. Those exaggerated perceptual characteristics are meant to help you remember.”
Yin Ren opened his mouth but then pursed his lips together. Theoretically, he was a Primordial Elemental, but on the Other Side, he seemed ignorant and clumsy. The situation was worse than he had imagined; not only could he not save others, but he couldn’t even act independently.
It felt as if he were a tiger cub raised in a zoo, with no problems in health or strength, but certain death awaited him if he were thrown directly into the wild.
He hadn’t felt this “weak” in a long time.
“Let’s stop here for today. Over the next twenty-four hours, you’ll need to constantly imagine this room until it becomes a conditioned reflex.” Qi Xin shrugged her shoulders. “When you’re stable, I’ll teach you how to use the photos.”
“Can’t you just bring the missing people here directly?” Lu Xiaohe took two steps forward, but she still didn’t dare look up in front of Qi Xin. “We’re closer to the entrance now, so we can take them out first…”
As soon as she said this, almost everyone looked at Qi Xin.
Indeed, “Joy” and “Disgust” had already perished, and “Love” was squeezed in between. Qi Xin, as one of the top four emotions on the Other Side, was unrivaled. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have taken the risk to bring Yin Ren, this little cub, back to his homeland.
Qi Xin smiled.
Her smile had always made people uncomfortable, as if a wooden mask had been stretched over her face, exuding a chilling coldness reminiscent of lifelessness.
“Of course, I can do that.” Qi Xin flicked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But what benefits would I gain from doing so? Clearing the path for you, teaching you knowledge, and finding people for you—if ‘Fear’ were to retreat and run away like that, wouldn’t I lose out?”
Lu Xiaohe was speechless.
Qi Xin leaned down in front of Lu Xiaohe, tilting her head stiffly without blinking.
“When humans train small animals to bite, they often use a little meat bait or toys. For the ‘Fear’ cub, looking for those humans is good training.” Her smile became increasingly apparent, almost revealing all her teeth. “What a win-win approach, don’t you think?”
Lu Xiaohe’s breathing suddenly became chaotic and fragmented, her body trembling lightly. But she managed to hold back her emotions and didn’t reply.
“Young lady, you should learn to be grateful.” Qi Xin’s voice lowered slightly. “Otherwise, I can kill you right now, and not even ‘Fear’ will be able to do anything to me.”
“For example, someone who sneaked in here without manners.”
Qi Xin’s arm suddenly stretched out and flicked towards a corner of the room. A sharp scream followed, and a black mass was squeezed in her hand.
Dr. Cat struggled dissatisfied in her grasp, opening its mouth and hissing. Previously, everyone’s attention was on Qi Xin, and no one noticed the small black mass in the corner of the white room.
“Meiqiu?!” Fu Tianyi couldn’t sit still. “That’s impossible. You didn’t even enter the white room just now. How…”
“An infinite ability user. No wonder.” Qi Xin looked at the black cat panting frantically and casually tightened her fingers. “You guys really have all sorts of wonders over there.”
With its throat held by Qi Xin, the black cat extended its claws and scratched, but to no avail. Fu Tianyi’s face turned pale. He desperately tried to use his techniques, but like Yin Ren, Fu Tianyi couldn’t produce even a spark.
“Qi Xin.”
Yin Ren stepped forward with a stern face, grabbing Qi Xin’s wrist.
“I understand your dissatisfaction. However, this is our colleague, so I hope you won’t harm it.”
Although it was a world of consciousness, Yin Ren’s palm still exuded a hint of sweat. Qi Xin was right; in this cursed place, even if she killed Dr. Cat, he couldn’t necessarily stop her.
…This was terrible.
Qi Xin’s one eye shifted to her temple as she looked at Yin Ren for a moment. In the end, she snorted and casually threw the cat aside.
Yin Ren held the soft and fluffy Dr. Meiqiu, who regained its ability to speak. Its fur bristled all over its body as it nestled in Yin Ren’s arms, cursing in a soft voice.
“It’s not only one that sneaked in without saying hello.”
“…Forget it. I’m going out to stretch my muscles. Since you guys brought in things indiscriminately, don’t blame me if you lose them.”
Yin Ren still held Qi Xin’s wrist, and for a moment, the room fell silent.
Qi Xin casually shook her wrist, and her arm instantly turned into a pile of thin, withered bones. She effortlessly pulled it out of Yin Ren’s palm and walked straight towards the red door.
Yin Ren grasped empty air, slowly tightening his palm and forcefully embedding his fingertips into his palm.
“Wait, I have something to say to you!”
Unable to stop her with his hand, Yin Ren tried to command his hair to stop Qi Xin. However, for some unknown reason, his obedient hair remained motionless, gently hanging down, as if it were real hair.
“If you can get out of this door, then I can have a chat with you,” Qi Xin replied without looking back.
Her figure disappeared behind the red door.
Once Qi Xin left, everyone, except for Yin Ren, let out a collective sigh of relief.
In the human world, they hadn’t felt it, but on the Other Side, Qi Xin’s slender body exuded an indescribable sense of oppression that instinctively kept people at a distance.
Dr. Cat crawled to Fu Tianyi, swiftly climbing onto his shoulder, finally catching its breath and grooming its fur. However, after licking for a while, it ended up licking the fabric on Fu Tianyi’s shoulder.
“I’ll go out for a while.”
Yin Ren walked briskly towards the red door that Qi Xin had left from. What was beyond this door were countless shades of gray and white substances that wriggled incessantly. Yin Ren walked straight ahead, as if he hadn’t seen them.
The red door closed automatically.
After a few seconds, a panting Yin Ren reappeared in the center of the room, nearly bumping into Ge Tingting. Lord Ghost King wiped his face and muttered a curse under his breath.
“Let’s practice first.” Ge Tingting quietly advised. “According to what she said, we need to adapt to the environment first. Yin Ge, why don’t you…”
Zhong Chengshuo patted the little girl’s shoulder, shaking his head at her.
“Yin Ren, give me your hand.”
Zhong Chengshuo extended his hand, naturally extending an invitation.
“I’ll take you to find her.”
Yin Ren reflexively reached out his hand and relaxed his eyes. However, the next moment, his expression stiffened.
Near Ping’an Manor, the night market was as lively as ever. With the change of seasons and the decrease in temperature, the street stalls underwent many changes. The chilled noodles and red bean shaved ice that Yin Ren loved had disappeared, replaced by street-side roasted duck and various fried snacks.
The cool evening breeze carried a mixture of oil fumes and water vapor, making the scene appear several times more vibrant than before.
Zhong Chengshuo had finally retrieved his phone. At the moment, he was holding a large pile of discounted vegetables from the supermarket with a box of fresh eggs in his other hand. Yin Ren also had various gifts in his hands. With a grilled squid in his mouth, he carefully carried a bag of crispy fried small fish—the kind Zhong Yude and Cheng Xuehua liked to have with their drinks.
Various cheap light strings flashed incessantly, and people came and went, chatting and laughing. The loudspeaker of a beverage shop played music with extremely poor sound quality, and the water stains on the roadside reflected shimmering neon lights.
Yin Ren sniffed the sweet fragrance in the air and turned towards the beverage shop. Just as his foot was about to step into the shallow puddle, a thin and weak boy fell into the water. Dirty water splashed in all directions, splattering onto Yin Ren’s sneakers.
The school uniform on the boy looked somewhat familiar—it was the style of Haigu Secondary School. The sewage from the night market instantly stained the fabric of the uniform brown, emitting an unusually strong fishy smell. The boy had just opened his bubble tea, but now half of it fell into the dirty water, and the straw was covered in filth.
The pinkish-white liquid dripped out of the straw and quickly mixed with the brownish-black sewage.
“Here, let me show you.”
The tallest boy deliberately twisted his body and imitated a high-pitched voice.
“Sweetheart Strawberry Milk Tea, my sisters must not miss it, so delicious it’ll make you stamp your feet~”
Amidst the laughter, the boy spat towards the smaller boy in the dirty water. “Is that sentence so difficult? I’ve said it too. Let’s entertain everyone. Why are you pretending to be high and mighty? You buy this stuff every day, but others can’t make jokes about it?”
The smaller boy didn’t say anything, but his face turned bright red.
“One of these days, we’ll bury you too, you sissy.” A group of several teenagers near the beverage shop jeered. “You have no face, Little Strawberry.”
They shouted and made a commotion around the boy.
The smaller boy tried to get up but was pushed down by the approaching students and thrown back into the muddy water. Under the warm yellow light, his face turned a terrifying shade of purple.
The nearby vendors were busy with their stalls, and pedestrians continued to chat and laugh. Whether intentional or not, people ignored the commotion in this small corner.
Something was silently changing in this bustling and warm night market.
Yin Ren frowned. Just as he was about to intervene, he saw a sudden change in the boy’s expression.
The humiliation and anger from earlier vanished without a trace, and his face showed only a dazed and relieved look, as if someone was embracing him. Something translucent and white flashed across his shoulder.
It looked like a human arm.
The smaller boy stood up again, picked up the bubble tea from the dirty water, and disregarded the dirt on the straw as he absentmindedly took a few sips before walking away.
As he left, his clothes were still dripping water, but there was a serene smile on his face.
The reaction of the others was quite strange. The group of boys who had been bullying him looked at each other, shrugged, and muttered, “He must be crazy.” Then they moved on to a nearby skewer stall.
“What just happened?” Zhong Chengshuo struggled to push aside the large stalks of green onions in front of him.
“…A momentary surge of Evil Force, but after that, the boy’s aura remained pure.” Yin Ren watched the swirling milk tea in the dirty water for a while. “Strange, I couldn’t see clearly.”
“Mm, we’ll report it tomorrow.” Zhong Chengshuo pulled back behind the various vegetables again.
“Hu Tao.” Yin Ren casually summoned his own ghost. “Follow that boy from earlier at a distance. When he falls asleep, come back and tell me what you’ve observed.”
Miss Hu Tao accepted a few grilled squid as a bribe before muttering to herself and setting off.
Before leaving the night market, Yin Ren stood at the street corner for a while.
A few young people passed by in a group, and one of them had a talisman hanging from their backpack, emitting a faint Evil Force. Yin Ren waved his hand and absorbed most of the Evil Force.
Then, he quietly watched the lights that he had longed for all these years.
The group of students who had just eaten their skewers were now chatting and laughing with expressions filled with innocence. The skewer vendor happily chatted with them, as if the previous bullying had never happened.
Behind the skewer stall, there was a makeshift and simple shrine. The gold paint on the God of Wealth’s hat shimmered in the mirror and emitted sparkling lights.
After watching for a few minutes, Yin Ren threw the skewer of the grilled squid into the trash can and left with Zhong Chengshuo.
Under the streetlights, the two of them carried their bags, appearing as ordinary pedestrians.
……
“What does this mean? Are you two going on another business trip?”
Zhong Yude saw the gifts they were carrying and instinctively frowned. The old man had just rushed out of the kitchen, still wearing an apron, and emanating the hot and sour aroma of sweet and sour dishes.
“Yes, starting tomorrow, we’re going to another city to investigate environmental issues,” Zhong Chengshuo honestly replied.
Yin Ren struggled to control his expression—stripping away the hundred layers of Zhong Chengshuo’s bluff, the investigation into the “Other Side” would begin tomorrow.
Through the Love identification spell on the corruption source, Shian had created a small passageway. It wasn’t stable, but with the assistance of Qi Xin, a “local”, they could barely make it through.
Considering that corruption sources were widespread in the outside world, Fu Xingchuan and Li Nian would stay in this world. Apart from tour guide Ms. Qi, there were only the members of Unit 9, plus Fu Tianyi, who was there to assist. After all, Ge Tingting and Huang Jin have some degree of mental distortion, so Unit 9 needed a 100% natural and healthy cultivator.
Qi Xin was quite supportive of this research. Judging from her subtle expression, Yin Ren suspected that she wanted to test the depth of the two “Fears”.
“An investigation in another city? That’s fine.” Cheng Xuehua breathed a sigh of relief. “My mother used to say that it’s good for young people to be ambitious, but there should be a limit. If your promotion at Shian requires you to take risks every day, it’s better to take it slow every now and then.”
Cheng Xuehua, the former captain of the criminal investigation division, smoothly ignored the fact that she used to take risks every day herself. She patted her chest emotionally and looked at the two “youngsters”. “Let Mom take a good look. All those long missions have made you both lose weight…”
She paused.
Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo had smooth and radiant skin, and their faces had a healthy flush. Zhong Chengshuo stood up straight, and Yin Ren’s vitality was even more abundant than before. For those who didn’t know, they would think they were having lavish meals at Shian every day.
Cheng Xuehua coughed twice. “…Go wash your hands first! Dinner is ready. Let’s eat, let’s eat.”
The table was once again filled with steaming home-cooked dishes.
“I heard that you guys got promoted. Not bad.” Zhong Yude opened a bottle of white wine. “Son, you’ve made quite some progress. Remember to learn from Xiao Yin on how to interact with colleagues and superiors.”
Yin Ren: “…”
It seemed like they didn’t need to consider workplace relationships anymore. As for superiors, the members of Unit 9 had already undergone numerous trials and hardships, forging their spirits like steel.
Ge Tingting was studying metaphysics as usual. Just a moment ago, he had answered her WeChat message. Lu Xiaohe was busy preparing materials and bombarding plans for their trip to the “Other Side”. Regardless of the fears of the Other Side, Yin Ren was certain that even if the Heavenly King Laozi himself came, Lu Xiaohe would still ask him endless questions.
Even Huang Jin hadn’t blocked them.
But when he heard his parents’ requests, Zhong Chengshuo responded solemnly, “I will learn from Yin Ren.”
After saying that, he instinctively picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork and put it into Yin Ren’s bowl.
At this point, Yin Ren suspected that Zhong Chengshuo’s “learning from Yin Ren” had a different meaning. However, the sweet and sour pork was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, with a delicious sweet and sour taste, so he decided not to think too much about it.
“It’s good. Seeing you like this, I can finally feel at ease.” Zhong Yude raised his glass and let out a long sigh. “I never expected that I would witness the younger generation getting married and establishing their careers…”
His face turned rosy from the alcohol, and his eyes gradually became moist.
Zhong Chengshuo’s chopsticks paused for a moment. He looked at his foster father, who was having a drink, and casually dropped a bombshell.
“Dad, Mom, I want to see what Sister left behind back then.”
Zhong Yude choked on his drink, and Cheng Xuehua’s chopsticks paused. However, she managed to maintain her composure and asked, “Why do you suddenly want to see that?”
“Sister’s disappearance case is very similar to the case we are investigating.”
Zhong Chengshuo raised his eyes.
“In recent years, I have been investigating her case. But no matter how much I investigate and how deep I dig, there is some information that only you know.”
Cheng Xuehua took a few deep breaths. She had always shown strength, but now a hint of helplessness appeared on her weathered face.
“You can see it if you want, but it has been almost thirty years since that happened.” Zhong Yude forced a smile. “All the relevant information is there, and as for the ‘only we know’ information, I guess…”
“Chengshuo just wants to understand a bit.” Yin Ren quickly chimed in. “Shian have their ways.”
“I understand.”
Cheng Xuehua cleared her throat conspicuously, trying to make her tone sound light.
“We are family, so there is no need to explain so much. The small house Fengfeng rented back then—your father and I bought it. Everything inside is arranged exactly the same… I’ll take you to see it tomorrow.”
Zhong Chengshuo nodded earnestly.
Yin Ren played with the sweet and sour pork in his bowl. “I have another question. Have the two of you ever dreamed of Chengfeng Jie?”
Zhong Chengshuo turned his head slightly, looking at Yin Ren with a puzzled expression.
Zhong Yude’s face showed a trace of disappointment. “At first, I dreamt of her a few times, always finding Fengfeng… or she never had an accident in the first place. But then the dreams became less frequent. Fengfeng was, after all, a young girl, and she was closer to her mother. Maybe she didn’t have time to bother about her old man.”
After saying that, he downed the remaining wine in his glass.
“Ah…”
Cheng Xuehua sighed deeply.
“Even now, I still occasionally dream of her.” The old lady’s voice was filled with sadness. “I just keep dreaming of that morning…”
“She told me, ‘Mom, I’m leaving. I’ll remember to come back early.'”
……
“Why did you suddenly ask that?” In the night, Zhong Chengshuo skillfully hugged Yin Ren.
“Luo Xiaohe mentioned before that Zhang Hejun accurately dreamed of her mother. Whether that was the manifestation of Love or not, the depth of a deep dream can reach the Other Side, so this should be true.”
Yin Ren leaned against his warm lover, narrowing his eyes. The tips of his wings at the ends of his hair fluttered intermittently. Now they were no longer translucent black, but closer to pure black. However, the touch remained soft and warm. Zhong Chengshuo had gotten used to embracing them in his arms.
“…Do you think missing people who disappeared during the Divine Descent might still have a chance of survival?” Zhong Chengshuo thumped a few times and retrieved his phone from under the pillow. “It’s a matter of great importance, so it’s better to inform Shian.”
“No, it’s just a hunch—at most a conjecture. We still don’t know what the Other Side is.”
Yin Ren held Zhong Chengshuo’s waist tightly.
“I was just asking casually. It’s not good to give everyone too much hope. Let’s first focus on finding the most recent missing individuals and then reassess the situation.”
“Oh.” Zhong Chengshuo stopped typing. He changed his position with Yin Ren, sliding his finger on the screen to browse.
Yin Ren snuggled against Zhong Chengshuo’s chest, feeling drowsy. However, he noticed that Zhong Chengshuo’s heartbeat had quickened. Just as he was about to speak, he heard the sound of a notification from Zhong Chengshuo’s phone.
Another incident?
He poked his head out of the covers, and another screen lit up.
The bright red apple profile picture was fixed at the top, and the message notification was clear. The message was indeed from Zhong Chengshuo, as Yin Ren had suspected.
Yin Ren opened it, and in an instant, the slight warmth of sleepiness disappeared. Their chat history showed that the last message he sent Zhong Chengshuo after the “sacrifice”, was still there.
[Fruit Knife: I should have told you more times, I really like you. I’ve never felt this miserable in my entire life! 👊]
[Fruit Knife: Why don’t you believe these things? If you believe, you can definitely come back.]
[Fruit Knife: Say something to me.]
[Final Fruit: I’ve already come back, right by your side. 😊]
“And I really like you too.”
Zhong Chengshuo put down his phone and tightened his arms.
“If there comes a day when you really need to devour me, just give me a heads up.”
Yin Ren: “There’s no need for that, Zhong Ge.” Although he didn’t know how this idea came about for Comrade Xiao Zhong, his emotions seemed genuine.
“What if it’s necessary?”
In the darkness, those familiar eyes blinked incessantly.
“Do you know something?” Yin Ren instantly dropped his smile and leaned on Zhong Chengshuo with all his force.
“Just like what I said earlier, it’s just a hunch—at most a conjecture. It could also be my baseless worries. Speaking about it will only add to your troubles.” Zhong Chengshuo brushed Yin Ren’s hair. “Once it’s confirmed, I’ll be the first to tell you.”
Yin Ren looked down at those dark eyes.
“Your dad asked you to learn from me—but he didn’t say to learn so quickly.”
A faint sense of satisfaction appeared on Zhong Chengshuo’s face in the darkness. Helplessly, Yin Ren lowered his head and bit down on the other person’s lips.
.…..
Late at night, the fierce ghost Hu Tao gnawed on the tentacles of grilled squid while floating outside the window of the young boy.
This kid seemed perfectly normal, and Hu Tao didn’t understand why Yin Ren wanted her to follow him. She had already made up her mind that once she finished these skewers of squid, she would head back.
After all, Yin Ren and Zhong Chengshuo were going to visit the elders, and they wouldn’t know when she got off work.
Hu Tao calculated contentedly, floating in the air, indulging in various ways of biting the squid. After finishing the last skewer, the student was still doing homework under the desk lamp. Hu Tao let out a spirited yawn and slowly turned around…
A hand rested on her shoulder.
The weight, body temperature, and touch were all very familiar.
In the next instant, Hu Tao’s hair flew wildly, and her body was covered in blood. Amidst the carnage, her broken lips trembled, “Oh, so you know how to come back? Weren’t you running away so fast before? You—”
“I’m waiting for you on the Other Side.”
That voice, which she despised to the core, spoke.
After Yan Budu finished speaking, a young monk walked out of the wind and snow and stepped into the cave.
The monk carried a large sword with a grayish-green color on his back. The sword was not yet unsheathed and seemed to be sharpened by the sparks of a furnace. He was tall, but not bulky. Standing in the wind and snow, he appeared like a solitary peak that had stood there since ancient times.
Upon closer inspection, the monk had a handsome and resolute appearance, with deep facial features. There was a prominent scar on his right cheek, but his demeanor didn’t possess any aggressiveness.
Monk Kongshi*.
*Empty stone.
Yin Ci recognized this person. A hundred years ago, he used the pseudonym “Su Zhi” and, together with Yan Budu, Kongshi, and Qu Tinglei, they were known as the “Four Greats of the Martial World”. Except for Qu Tinglei, who was over fifty, the other three appeared to be under the age of forty.
They were formidable and full of youthful spirit. They could be considered the pinnacle of the martial world since the founding of the nation.
However, the good times didn’t last long. Yan Budu stirred up a bloody storm while constructing the Ghost Tomb, causing chaos throughout half the country and defeating countless masters on his own. The Jianchen Temple, which had always remained detached from the world, eventually intervened and dispatched Kongshi to capture Yan Budu.
The monks intended to capture Yan Budu and imprison him in the dungeon of the Jianchen Temple, followed by a public trial, thus condemning him to lifelong imprisonment.
Yin Ci remembered the aftermath of this story.
The monks never gave up until death, but Yan Budu wasn’t captured and taken to the Jianchen Temple. Presumably, he killed Kongshi. Afterward, Yan Budu disappeared, leaving only Qu Tinglei and himself among the Four Greats of the Martial World.
The two young masters were like shooting stars in the dark night, shining brightly but falling quickly.
When Yin Ci was still “Su Zhi”, his actions were chaotic, encompassing both good and evil, but he knew where to stop, which earned him the approval of the righteous path. He had never fought Monk Kongshi and knew nothing about him. Naturally, he couldn’t guess the secret of his past—no one knew how Kongshi died or where he died. Even to this day, the Jianchen Temple was still searching for the remains of this young venerable.
Could this be the answer?
Yin Ci couldn’t help but sit up straight, but unfortunately, he had a limp body leaning on him, which added some difficulty to this movement.
Monk Kongshi’s clothes were tattered and full of sword marks, but his aura was serene. Compared to the disheveled Yan Budu, he seemed more like someone who came to enjoy the snowy scenery.
He sat opposite Yan Budu, adjusted his clothes, and began silently chanting scriptures.
This one chant lasted for most of the day.
Shi Jingzhi couldn’t hold on any longer. He curled up, resting his head on Yin Ci’s thigh, sleeping soundly. Yin Ci continued to meditate, playing with Shi Jingzhi’s hair in one hand while watching the seemingly frozen scene in front of him.
After sleeping for a few hours, Shi Jingzhi finally woke up. He pulled his hair out of Yin Ci’s grasp and rubbed his eyes. “How is it?”
Yin Ci: “They haven’t said a word since then.”
Shi Jingzhi: “…How long has it been? Yan Qing and the others have pretty good memories. They quickly patched together the illusion of their inner demons. Are we supposed to stay here for as long as it takes for him to remember? A’Ci, we have no food or drink here—”
Yin Ci felt that his own master became several times chattier after developing his inner demon. It was a good thing that Shi Jingzhi was willing to rely on him, but this person hadn’t figured out the extent of relying on others. He seemed to want to pour out everything on his mind.
Though with such an energetic person making a fuss by his side, Yin Ci couldn’t find himself annoyed no matter what.
He patted Shi Jingzhi’s arm. “Don’t worry. Since Yan Budu wants to leave a message, he wouldn’t kill the messenger… You might as well close your eyes and feel the state of your body.”
Following his words, Shi Jingzhi closed his eyes but immediately became agitated. “I slept for so long, why haven’t I regained any energy?”
“As I thought.”
Yin Ci smiled. “Yan Budu hasn’t become strong enough to create his own small world. This place should be purely a ‘state of mind’. Everything that’s happening right now is only within our consciousness. The formation has accelerated the speed of our thoughts. ‘One day’ here is just a blink of an eye outside.”
In the real world, only an instant had passed, so Shi Jingzhi’s body couldn’t naturally recover.
However, there were advantages. Even if Yan Budu’s memories spanned a whole year, in reality, only an hour would pass. They wouldn’t die of hunger or thirst, nor did they need to worry about cleanliness.
…But someone might die of boredom.
Shi Jingzhi was always restless, never able to sit still. Now being trapped in a narrow cave, he visibly wilted.
Yin Ci thought of something amusing. “It’s fine. Even if they are trapped for an entire winter, it’s only three months.”
He paused and leaned closer to Shi Jingzhi’s ear. “This time was stolen from heaven. Shizun, you don’t need to worry about illness. You might as well enjoy it… I’m here to accompany you, right?”
After their previous encounter in Yuanxian Village, Shi Jingzhi inexplicably became more composed and less playful. Now, after going through the Buddha Heart Formation, he showed a glimpse of his true self and became playful again. Yin Ci watched as a hint of blush appeared on Shi Jingzhi’s ears, feeling quite satisfied.
Shi Jingzhi seemed like he wanted to move away, yet he was reluctant to leave the warmth beside him. He could only turn his face with a stern expression, pretending that nothing had happened.
The cave was dim and cold, oppressing them like a coffin. The sound of howling winds pierced through, making the atmosphere particularly heavy. If one were trapped alone in this dull and suffocating environment, they might go insane before starving to death.
“We were too busy fighting before, so we didn’t have time to talk. Now, let’s call it a temporary truce. Why is it so quiet?”
Perhaps feeling bored as well, Yan Budu spoke again.
“The bald donkeys at the Jianchen Temple are all about saving all sentient beings. When they see me, they can’t wait to spit on me. But why is it that in front of me, Venerable, you suddenly become so tight-lipped?”
Monk Kongshi glanced at him calmly but didn’t respond.
Yan Budu’s excitement grew even higher. “Oh? Could it be that Venerable belongs to another category—self-proclaimed purity, currently free from worldly troubles, afraid of being tainted by the wicked deeds of someone like me and soiled with righteousness?”
Yin Ci remained silent. Yan Budu not only spat blood like Shi Jingzhi but also became even more talkative.
Monk Kongshi ceased his silent chanting and cleared his throat, finally speaking.
The monk’s voice was as gentle as a spring breeze after rain, soothing to the ear. “Patron, I remember that you are twenty-nine this year.”
“Yes.”
“Since you established the demonic sect at the age of seventeen until now, I don’t know how much bloodshed and countless sins you have caused.”
“And so what?”
“Patron, to establish a demonic sect with your own strength and resist the righteous path with the power of your sect for nearly two years, it shows remarkable intelligence.”
Yan Budu narrowed his crimson eyes. He was used to hearing his followers flatter him, but it was the first time a monk had flattered him. He almost became alert. “So?”
“Therefore, Patron, after immersing yourself in darkness and evil for twelve years and reaching such a young age, seemingly without any problems in your mind, you must have heard everything that needs to be heard and thought about everything that needs to be thought about.”
Monk Kongshi smiled gently.
“If a few words from this humble monk could make you achieve great enlightenment, then I wouldn’t need to be here. I would have already become a Buddha.”
It was the first time Yan Budu saw such an unprofessional eminent monk that it left him momentarily confused. “You—”
Monk Kongshi showed a friendly smile. “Amitabha.”
His words were quite impolite, yet his tone and manner were surprisingly gentle, without a hint of contempt or anger.
Yin Ci: “…”
Shi Jingzhi: “…The Jianchen Temple emphasizes renouncing greed, hatred, and ignorance. But I feel like this Venerable needs to renounce a bit of his snide remarks.”
Yan Budu was caught off guard by the mild-mannered Amitabha, and when he saw the serene expression on the monk’s face, as if saying, “You think you’re so great, but you’re not as good as a stone,” he couldn’t help but feel a surge of nameless anger and spat out blood again.
Kongshi sighed and pulled out a piece of cloth, handing it over with both hands.
Yan Budu chuckled lightly, not changing his sarcastic tone. “You just broke my arm, and now you’re showing false compassion?”
Kongshi spoke earnestly, “But Patron, you have already bandaged your arm yourself. In that case, if you truly care, shall I wrap another layer for you?”
He used a negotiating tone.
Yan Budu: “…”
This monk seemed to practice Yin-Yang Zen*. Every word sounded gentle, making it impossible to find fault, and there was nothing wrong with his tone. But combined, they sounded sarcastic.
*Meditation practice that integrates the concepts of yin and yang. It emphasizes cultivating a balance between opposing forces both within oneself and the external world, aiming to harmonize and transcend dualistic concepts by realizing the interdependence of interconnectedness of all things.
Yin Ci could see what Yan Budu was thinking.
If this were a monk with a troubled expression who cared deeply about the welfare of sentient beings or a vengeful Arhat*, Yan Budu would be better off. Those two types of people were easy to see through, but the monk in front of him was shrouded in clouds and mist. Yan Budu couldn’t see him clearly at all.
*One who has gained insight into the true nature of existence and has achieved Nirvana and liberated from the endless cycle of rebirth.
Seeing Yan Budu silently accept the cloth, Kongshi maintained a Buddha-like expression and resumed his meditation.
If they didn’t know about the sins committed by Yan Budu, the master and disciple would have almost started to sympathize with him. Shi Jingzhi leaned back against Yin Ci, realizing that in comparison, his disciple was gentle and amiable.
Outside the cave, it gradually darkened, and the wind and snow showed no signs of stopping. Kongshi opened his bag, took out an iron bowl and rice, and melted some snow water, skillfully cooking white porridge.
Yan Budu: “…After fighting with each other for five days and nights, traveling thousands of miles in the mountains, do you still have the leisure to carry rice?”
Kongshi replied leisurely, “People still need to eat.”
He cooked the porridge, let it cool for a moment, and pushed it toward Yan Budu. “Patron, please have it first.”
Yan Budu didn’t hesitate and quickly poured the porridge into his stomach. He regained some strength, and a bit of killing intent dispersed. “Baldy, do you know what I’m thinking?”
The monk continued to cook porridge, his tone light. “Patron is thinking that you’ll find an opportunity to kill this humble monk later. That way, with rice and human flesh, you can sustain yourself longer.”
“Then, would Venerable care to offer himself as tiger food?”
Kongshi blew on the porridge. “No.”
Yan Budu sneered and moved his red jade smoking pipe. With a sharp sword aura, he decisively slashed towards Kongshi. The latter casually deflected it with his stone sword, leaving a deep crack in the ground.
“Ah… Opposing techniques are truly bothersome.” Yan Budu leaned against the rock wall, sighing deeply.
“Patron, it’s better to stop. If you were to kill me, I’m certain you wouldn’t be able to leave.”
“And why is that? Once the storm stops, there is nothing to fear.”
The monk continued to blow on the porridge. “The premise is that Patron knows how to descend the mountain. I’ve seen traces of ancient formations around, and this mountain has been disturbed by formations, leaving illusions everywhere. To proceed normally, you must break through the illusions with an exorcism spell.”
Yan Budu was taken aback but not entirely surprised. “Zongwu Mountain is quite vast and often has strange occurrences. Perhaps some immortal practiced here and left behind some trouble.”
After finishing his words, his killing intent also dissipated.
Monks didn’t tell lies. For well-known eminent monks like Monk Kongshi from the Jianchen Temple, he wouldn’t lie just to save his life.
Yan Budu quickly adjusted his emotions. When he spoke again, his tone returned to laziness, as if he wasn’t the one who had just made a move. “What about food? This bit of rice won’t be enough for the two of us.”
Kongshi remained serene. “This mountain isn’t barren. On the way here, I saw many wild vegetables and mushrooms that can be eaten. Patron will certainly not starve.”
“No meat. Monks are really troublesome.” Yan Budu glanced discontentedly at his severed arm and reluctantly accepted his fate.
After finishing their meal, the monk put on his bamboo hat and stepped into the snow. He returned when the night was pitch black, and his backpack was indeed filled with wild vegetables and tender mushrooms.
However, Kongshi was covered in snow. When he approached the fire pit in the cave, the snow melted into water, making the cloth damp against his skin. Kongshi took off his outer garment and used tree branches to prop it open, drying it by the fire.
Yan Budu dried his tobacco pouch by the fire and took a pinch of tobacco, slowly smoking.
The monk was facing away from him, illuminated by the flickering firelight and surrounded by white smoke. His sturdy back was exposed, emitting a slight sheen.
Perhaps truly bored, Yan Budu let his long hair down and blew smoke bit by bit. “What a pity, what a pity. Among the Four Greats, apart from that old man Qu Tinglei, Su Zhi and you can both be considered beauties, and each one is difficult to handle.”
Kongshi: “Patron’s definition of ‘beauties’ is quite broad.”
Yan Budu laughed heartily. “Venerable, your features are handsome, and your figure is excellent. There’s no need for self-deprecation. As for Su Zhi, he usually wears a mask, which is true, but I have heard interesting rumors about him. Furthermore, beauty lies in the bones, not the skin. I’ve seen so many beauties, and I never make mistakes.”
Kongshi: “Oh.”
Yan Budu: “But I love beautiful people, even if they’re dead. I wonder what kind of demon possessed Su Zhi; his eyes are dead, and he is completely rotten on the inside. Such a person is the most uninteresting, wasting that good bone structure.”
Yin Ci: “…”
It felt quite refreshing to overhear others speak ill of oneself behind one’s back. However, Yan Budu’s words might not qualify as “speaking ill”; they were more like facts.
As expected of a genius, Yan Budu’s insight into people was remarkably sharp.
However, at this point, Yin Ci couldn’t help but have some strange thoughts. Yan Budu’s skill in reading people was somewhat similar to Shi Jingzhi’s, only more refined and mature than Shi Jingzhi.
Could it be a coincidence?
On the other side, Yan Budu and Kongshi continued their conversation.
Kongshi clearly had little interest in the conversation. He focused on wiping his body—ordinary people didn’t possess the abnormal inner force of Shi Jingzhi, so maintaining body temperature was already the limit. The more moist the body, the faster the heat dissipated, resulting in a waste of true qi.
However, as the topic became more and more inappropriate, Kongshi turned his head and glanced at Yan Budu.
Encouraged by this, Yan Budu became more spirited in his speech. “Talking about him makes me angry. That kid intentionally picked the Chigou Sect, a third-rate sect, and turned it into the ruler of the North. If he hadn’t taken over the north, our sect wouldn’t have been so ruthlessly defeated. Haa, he had to cause trouble for me at such a crucial moment.”
He was halfway through his words when he felt aggrieved again. “If it weren’t for that Su Zhi, I would be lying in silk sheets right now, with a fragrant and tender beauty in my arms.”
Kongshi treated Yan Budu as murmuring air and remained seated in meditation with his upper body exposed.
Little did he know that Yan Budu silently converged his true qi and approached. Without a trace of killing intent, he pressed himself against Kongshi’s back. His arm crossed over Kongshi’s shoulder and reached towards his chest.
“Compared to that Su Zhi, Venerable is different… In Venerable’s eyes, there is vitality—very captivating.”
Yan Budu deliberately slowed his speech, and his voice was as smooth as silk, filled with a hint of laughter.
Silky hair, swirling smoke, both mingling with warm breath, were gently brushed over Kongshi’s bare skin.
“I must say, Venerable, we have a connection. Life is unpredictable; who knows if we will both die here… Since we have spare time, why don’t I teach you some other forms of entertainment, as a token of gratitude for the meal?”
Unfortunately, Yan Budu’s attempts at seduction were in vain, as the monk remained unresponsive. Kongshi turned his head to the side, looking at Yan Budu as if observing a wolf chasing its own tail.
In a swift motion, Kongshi seized Yan Budu’s severed arm. Taking advantage of Yan Budu’s pain, he instantly activated several acupoints, then moved Yan Budu back to his original position. He even kindly covered Yan Budu with a coat.
After completing these actions, the monk resumed his seated position, his expression earnest. “Patron, our temple excels in close combat techniques. You should remember that.”
“Once we leave here, I will definitely kill you.”
Kongshi continued in a friendly tone, teasing him. “Oh, really? So, Patron, you didn’t plan on killing me before?”
Rarely encountering an eminent monk with both good looks and martial skills, it was a pity that Yan Budu’s desire for conquest was quickly extinguished.
Such a decent monk—how did he end up having such a sharp tongue?
Yan Budu’s expression fluctuated, unsure of what to say. “…Forget it. Continue with your scriptures.”
The author has something to say:
Yan Budu isn’t a normal demonic lord, but unfortunately, the eminent monk isn’t a normal eminent monk either (?
Fox Shi: I’m in trouble now → But I’m gaining time → No food or drink → But A’Ci is here. For a moment, he couldn’t tell if he was winning or losing (?
Kinky Translations 