Chapter 239

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Chapter 239: Title

Leng Xingwen had long prepared for crossing over, maintaining remarkable composure when discovering his displacement from the original world.

Others, however, lacked his equanimity.

While Huixin’s monastic robes in 18th-century London might draw curious glances, Leng Xingwen’s attire commanded far greater attention.

His wide-sleeved scholar’s gown and folded fan epitomized the refined elegance of ancient Zhongxia’s literati. During Zhongxia’s early days, such garments might have raised eyebrows, but after the Awakening of Spiritual Energy ushered in diverse fashion trends, such styles became commonplace.

This transition occurred gradually – the seismic shift of Spiritual Energy’s resurgence overshadowed mere sartorial choices. When literal figures from antiquity walked among people, historical clothing seemed trivial by comparison.

Yet Leng Xingwen now traversed the Galactic Empire’s realm.

His appearance drew countless glances along the thoroughfares.

The extent to which his striking features contributed to this attention remained debatable.

Unlike hapless crossers facing existential threats, Leng Xingwen’s arcane arts circumvented typical struggles. Spiritual and technological paths shared surprising parallels – where engineers created translators, mystics crafted mind-linking spells. Through such sorcery, he mastered the local tongue.

This purely technological realm proved hostile to Blue Star natives, devoid of Spiritual Energy. Confined to Tier One Pinnacle capacity, his actual power barely reached early Tier One levels. With each expenditure of his dwindling dantian reserves, conservation became imperative until replenishment sources could be found.

Handsome features often disarmed suspicion, offsetting his anachronistic appearance. Still, Leng Xingwen carefully avoided surveillance cameras and hovering mechanized patrols while absorbing local customs.

Like Blue Star, this world required Identity Cards he conspicuously lacked. Confrontation would force difficult choices: memory alteration for organic witnesses, but only destructive options against networked automatons.

As Special Bureau in Zhongxia’s consultant, he understood technological devices intimately. Once recorded by surveillance systems, evading governmental attention would prove virtually impossible.

A soft sigh escaped him. Immediate priorities crystallized – secure shelter and change this ostentatious attire before becoming marked quarry.

As dusk settled, the architectonic scale shifted around him. Compared to the kilometer-high colossi he’d witnessed earlier, these thirteen to thirty-story structures appeared almost squat.

Transparent skyrails threaded through the urban canopy, bearing vehicles and compact spaceships that vanished into tower bases. The configuration recalled a metropolis where ground-level entrances might deposit travelers onto elevated pedestrian platforms.

This fusion of architecture and transit mirrored sci-fi visions from his digital past. After witnessing hundred-story giants, these mid-rise complexes indeed resembled suburban dwellings.

The neighborhood before him manifested as a residential quarter.

Leng Xingwen positioned himself in an inconspicuous corner, observing the seemingly lax security system. He contemplated investigating the premises after nightfall.

As he waited, the system abruptly announced an upgrade to its task protocols.

"Divergent Time Flow Proportions," he murmured thoughtfully.

He remembered when Ghost in Red had entered the Heavenly Inquiry World – the temporal synchronization with Blue Star had been perfect initially. Only after the Heavenly Inquiry World became subordinate to the source world did the chronological alignment shift.

Now this temporal discrepancy manifested from the very beginning.

Leng Xingwen perceived no disparity in time passage between this world and Blue Star; his day had felt tangibly real. Yet this altered time ratio promised extended longevity, a lure that would inevitably draw multitudes to this realm.

Moreover, compared to the sorcery-dominated "Rise of the Sorcerers" world, this technologically advanced civilization held greater fascination. Had Blue Star not undergone its Awakening of Spiritual Energy, it might have evolved along similar lines – though such development would have required millennia.

Here lay unprecedented opportunity – a chance to catapult technological evolution across eons of progress in single bound.

Both Zhongxia’s Special Bureau and foreign special departments would undoubtedly prioritize the Galactic Empire upon learning it represented technology from a hundred millennia future. This world’s transformation seemed imminent.

"But why select me?" Leng Xingwen’s brow furrowed in solitary contemplation.

This realm should attract scholars and technophiles, yet he practiced spirit-oriented cultivation. Rather than flourishing, he felt constrained. What purpose did the Heavenly Dao envision?

His presence here remained undeniable. He recalled searching for Xiao Tianji before vanishing – perhaps his companion shared this predicament, explaining the prolonged silence.

When streetlights bathed the city in nocturnal illumination, Leng Xingwen pressed against a perimeter wall. Scanning the deserted surroundings, he effortlessly scaled the barrier with one fluid motion.

Though unaccustomed to such clandestine maneuvers, his movements betrayed no hesitation. Landing soundlessly in wall-side shrubbery, his white garments shimmered faintly in the darkness.

Electronic eyes glowed crimson in the gloom. While spiritual energy remained inaccessible, his heightened awareness functioned unimpeded. He navigated past what should have been patrol routes – though here, mechanical sentinels replaced human guards.

This world’s technological supremacy manifested everywhere: daytime surveillance booths housed Simulation Robots indistinguishable from humans until spiritual senses revealed their artificial core. These androids breathed, emoted, and conversed with uncanny realism.

Residential towers glittered with inhabited lights, yet the compound stood eerily vacant. In Zhongxia, public spaces teemed with citizens practicing martial arts or body cultivation – those confined to cramped dwellings often trained in open areas. Early practitioners had gained notoriety as street performers, their stone-breaking chest exercises and spell demonstrations resembling circus acts.

None suspected the shadow-cloaked observer beneath the tree.

He glanced at the door but paused only momentarily before turning decisively toward the opposite direction.

The main entrances of these buildings were all monitored by electronic eyes, making it nearly impossible to avoid detection. Tonight, Leng Xingwen resolved to become what one might call a gentleman of the night.

……

The Galactic Empire, interstellar era.

Civilizations spanning the Milky Way prided themselves on mirroring human appearance and cultural ethos. Those assimilated into human society became affiliate civilizations.

Yet not all intelligent beings from these subordinate cultures enjoyed equal status within human domains.

The galaxy’s boundless expanse nurtured civilizations of astonishing diversity.

While many lagged behind humanity’s technological prowess, others surpassed it—whether in martial might or specialized fields.

The Galactic Empire’s supremacy stemmed fundamentally from humanity’s technological dominance. Strip away their protective exoskeleton armor and advanced weaponry, and fragile humans would swiftly be taught their place by warrior civilizations.

Humanity’s strength lay in intellect, not physique. Millennia of research by biological scientists to unlock inherent potential proved futile—nature’s balance held firm. Successful modifications birthed monstrosities, not enhanced humans.

Thus when Qi Qiuyun witnessed his vertical window sliding open to admit a silhouetted figure, his first instinct wasn’t alarm.

This intruder couldn’t be human. Fourteen floors up, with no adjacent structures—no mortal could scale this height.

Leng Xingwen froze mid-entry. He’d chosen this darkened apartment precisely, yet lights now illuminated his precarious perch. Better to confront than be caught lingering.

The expected panic never came. The resident stood composed, studying him with analytical calm—an unexpected reaction that left the intruder momentarily adrift.

Drawing himself to full height by the bedside, Leng Xingwen retrieved an ornate fan from his belt. With practiced grace, he clasped his hands in salute. "My intrusion through the window was borne of necessity. I seek only temporary refuge, no harm intended."

His Galactic Common Speech flowed melodiously, each syllable precise. Here stood the epitome of grace—a jade-like gentleman whose smile could melt hearts. Verified data showed over ten million devotees followed his Weibo on Blue Star, fans of all genders clamoring for updates, some even pledging to "bear his heirs"—a concept that initially baffled the Moon Lake Wonderland cultivator.

Qi Qiuyun, unaware of this fame, found his suspicion dissolving under the intruder’s clear-eyed gaze. No thief possessed such noble bearing. Yet pragmatism prevailed:

"Identify yourself. How did you reach the fourteenth floor?"

"Answer or I alert security."

The young host’s voice held steady. No telltale bulk of exoskeleton armor distorted the intruder’s silhouette—those flowing robes, though elegant, were mere ordinary fabric.

"I am Leng Xingwen."

"Who are you?" Leng Xingwen repeated thoughtfully; this question demanded careful consideration.

He disdained lying, yet he couldn’t reveal the truth.

"Merely a wanderer from distant lands," Leng Xingwen concluded.

Qi Qiuyun furrowed his brow, eyes sweeping over the man’s figure. "A wanderer? Since when do wanderers carry such… peculiar airs?"

"Do I seem peculiar?" Leng Xingwen adjusted his sleeves with deliberate calm, maintaining an air of nonchalance.

Honestly, was this truly about appearances?

Qi Qiuyun bit back his retort. The stranger’s genuine bewilderment made him question his own judgment.

"You…" The words dissolved on his tongue.

Leng Xingwen observed the scrutiny calmly, reciprocating the silent appraisal. Spellcasting drained spiritual energy – preserving his strength remained preferable to conflict.

"I seek shelter tonight. Clean garments would be appreciated." The jade pendant gleamed as he untied it. "Compensation is assured."

Translucent hues danced within the carved stone, its tasseled cords threaded through jade beads. Even an amateur could recognize this masterpiece’s exorbitant worth.

Qi Qiuyun’s refusal withered before forming.

"One night’s lodging and clothes… for this?" Shame colored his voice. The pendant’s value dwarfed his paltry offering, yet desperation clawed at him. The debt demanded payment – substantial, urgent.

Leng Xingwen inclined his head. "Agreed."

Masterpieces mattered little when identical treasures filled his qiankun pouch. An expendable trinket solving immediate needs proved eminently practical.

"Done!"

Qi Qiuyun snatched the pendant like a starved hound seizing meat. "Wait here. I’ll fetch garments."

Leng Xingwen’s hand lingered midair, amusement flickering through him. He’d noted the grab, but saw no need to react.

"I’d prefer accompanying you."

"Should you contact authorities, complications would arise." His smile held winter’s edge. "I detest complications."

"…"

A fugitive? The suspicion gnawed at Qi Qiuyun. Yet memory of looming collectors forced his nod.

"Follow me."

Leng Xingwen expected compliance. Youth’s transparency painted every thought across that twenty-year-old face.

The one-bedroom, one-living room layout confirmed solitary occupancy – cramped, utilitarian, devoid of personal touches.

In the bedroom,

Qi Qiuyun glanced up at the towering figure casting shadows across his world. "These are my largest clothes." He thrust forward folded fabrics. "They might still… constrain you."

"Washed thoroughly," he added through clenched teeth. "Delivery services charge outrageous fees for midnight orders."

Leng Xingwen accepted the oversized cotton shirt and sweatpants. Their coarseness prickled against his jade-smooth palms. "My gratitude."

"Could you turn around, please?" Leng Xingwen requested.

He had no desire to undress before others, and even wearing borrowed garments strained his tolerance.

Qi Qiuyun pivoted sharply, focusing on the jade pendant retrieved from his pocket as fabric rustled behind him.

The tassel beneath the luminescent stone felt cool against his fingers, its pearly strands resembling snow-white silk yet shimmering with crystalline clarity.

Floral motifs of unknown botany adorned the jade’s surface, their intricate craftsmanship rivaling the stone’s flawless quality. This treasure might bring substantial star coins at a jeweler’s – perhaps enough to settle debts, if the appraisal proved favorable.

Silence fell.

"Decently attired. You may look now."

Qi Qiuyun turned and choked back a profanity.

Since when could sack-like purple cotton and muddy sweatpants become fashion statements? The outfit screamed thrift-store catastrophe, yet somehow draped elegantly on those broad shoulders.

Leng Xingwen adjusted his hair crown, his folded robes resting neatly beside the bed’s satin-tied hair ribbon. Meeting Qi Qiuyun’s astonished gaze, he tilted his head.

"Does this attire displease?" His tone held artless concern.

The garish colors offended every aesthetic sense, but the mirror had confirmed his features compensated adequately. Years of maintaining dignified composure served him well – few discerned the mischievous spirit beneath his solemn facade, save those familiar with his online antics.

"You talk like historical drama subtitles," Qi Qiuyun deflected, cheeks warming. "All this ‘humble self’ formality."

"Merely regional custom. The term equates to ‘I’ in your parlance."

"My spare room’s occupied. Take my bed – I’ll couch-surf tonight." The jade pendant’s weight in his pocket softened Qi Qiuyun’s hospitality. Let the stranger depart at dawn; mysteries unresolved spared future complications.

"Your name remains unshared," Leng Xingwen interjected before retreat. "Might this humble one inquire?"

Hesitation yielded to practicality. "Qi Qiuyun."

"Qi Qiuyun," the name rolled rich as aged wine from Leng Xingwen’s tongue. "Perhaps we might bargain? Mutual advantage interests you?"

He produced a bracelet – luminous beads of sheep fat jade threaded on crimson cord, each orb polished to pinky-tip perfection. The piece outshone Qi Qiuyun’s pendant in craftsmanship, its value obvious. Storage rings lay inert, leaving only hair crown, bracelet, and non-negotiable ancestral sword tassel as negotiables.

Internet culture’s influence notwithstanding, Leng Xingwen blessed his accessory-hoarding habits. Without these glittering lifelines, navigating this strange world would prove impossible.

"What transaction?" Qi Qiuyun’s thumb absently circled his pendant while eyeing the superior bracelet. Shame prickled his conscience – the offered jade already exceeded reasonable exchange. Yet desperation clawed; principles paled before survival’s arithmetic.

Leng Xingwen observed the internal conflict with concealed amusement. Financial distress presented such delicious opportunities.

As Qi Qiuyun mentally wrestled with his thoughts, Leng Xingwen’s voice cut through his internal debate.

"I hail from a distant galaxy and wish to reside here temporarily – perhaps months, perhaps years." He had altered his manner of self-reference.

"I require permanent lodgings."

Optimistically, a few months might suffice for returning to the source world, considering someone should achieve the thirty percent mission threshold. Pessimistically, several years should be more than adequate; even in a Tier One Pinnacle world, defeat seemed implausible.

"You wish to dwell here."

"Indeed." Leng Xingwen inclined his head. "Be assured my presence won’t disrupt your routine."

"We’ll maintain mutual non-interference. I’ll impose no demands, nor need you concern yourself with my affairs."

The proposition seemed acceptable enough. Qi Qiuyun’s resistance softened slightly. His current residence stood in an Empire-funded housing complex, offering citizens shelter for negligible cost – mere hundred star coins monthly when the Empire’s standard subsidy totaled fifteen hundred per citizen. Practically free accommodation through bureaucratic arithmetic.

"Additionally," Leng Xingwen gestured toward metallic lumps resting on folded garments, "I require assistance selling these." The deformed gold and silver pieces retained some value despite their crude shape.

He’d molded all decorative elements into nondescript ingots. While the carved jade pendants and bracelets held artistic merit, the precious metals themselves proved useless here. Discreet liquidation seemed prudent.

Survival in this energy-starved realm demanded resources. Deprived of Spiritual Energy, his ancient fasting abilities vanished, leaving him dependent on mortal necessities – each requiring financial means. How different from Blue Star’s simplicity, where the Special Bureau handled all mundane concerns while he soared swordborne across continents.

The overly generous terms heightened Qi Qiuyun’s suspicion. "Are you hiding some illicit identity?" He eyed the visitor warily, restraining the urge to contact authorities only through lack of criminal vibes.

"My record’s immaculate," Leng Xingwen declared without hesitation. "I uphold justice, often intervening when witnessing oppression." The statement flowed effortlessly, reflecting habitual truth from his Zhongxia days.

"…I’ll decide by dawn," came the eventual concession.

*

Galactic Empire Realm

Three Days Later

"Your funds – but are you certain about this card type? Lost means irrevocably lost."

"A wanderer laden with valuables yet lacking basic banking…"

Leng Xingwen examined the azure crystal card, its surface gleaming with technological sophistication beyond Zhongxia’s electronic currency systems. The smooth rectangle bore only embossed banking details in its corner – no passwords, no Identity Card requirements. A swipe activated payments, its anonymous nature puzzling to someone who’d witnessed modern society’s security evolution.

He shrugged, pocketing the financial paradox. After all, his entire understanding of this civilization stemmed from digital archives.

Not only common knowledge, but also crucial information about this world became clear.

The Galactic Empire maintains an exceptional welfare system where every citizen qualifies for imperial subsidies—whether material support or monetary assistance.

Humanity’s technological advancement has automated most occupations, rendering human labor increasingly redundant in this era of hyper-developed productivity.

Ambitious citizens can secure undemanding employment, while those unwilling to work still receive minimum necessities. With mature virtual reality technology, countless inhabitants now devote substantial time to digital realms.

This virtual environment differed entirely from Leng Xingwen’s understanding. Blue Star’s virtual world primarily served as an interdimensional bridge connecting the source world and other planes, its entertainment value being merely incidental.

Unlike the Galactic Empire’s policy of promoting virtual immersion, even moderately driven individuals here wouldn’t squander self-improvement opportunities in fabricated realities—unless they’d already abandoned personal growth.

"Here’s the lightbrain you requested."

Qi Qiuyun’s heart twinged remembering the astronomical sum displayed during today’s purchase—this cutting-edge model came pre-installed with direct neural interface capabilities.

"My gratitude."

Leng Xingwen accepted the container, revealing golden wire-rimmed spectacles and a smartphone-sized device within. He’d specifically chosen this model through catalog browsing before commissioning Qi Qiuyun’s procurement.

The foldable glasses functioned as virtual interface gear, their unique material allowing both compact storage and holographic projection. The lightbrain’s phone-like design reflected his preference against wristwear or jewelry-styled alternatives.

After perusing the manual, Leng Xingwen attained operational proficiency. Within the Galactic Empire’s framework, unless pursuing scientific mastery, alternative advancement methods became necessary.

Idly awaiting others’ mission progress wasn’t viable—though unbeknownst to him, most initial taskers had been recalled, leaving few remaining in this reality.

—Rise of the Sorcerers World—

"Three days without completing the primary objective." Song Yi grimaced around her hamburger bite. "Are we certain sorcerers exist here? Not one sighting since arrival."

Song Ming shared his sister’s culinary distress—the Kingdom of England’s cuisine lived up to its infamous reputation. Eighteenth-century London’s industrial progress brought choking smog alongside productivity gains, the city’s dismal weather compounding their misery.

Hui Xin swallowed dry breadcrumbs. "Greater capability might hasten our search."

"Don’t say that, young monk!" Song Yi protested. "Without your alms-begging, we’d starve in this coinless century with broken interworld phones."

Song Ming nodded. "Our shame, not yours."

The monk contemplated their predicament. Through days of searching, his celestial vision detected no mystical signatures among London’s teeming masses—all inquiries suggested sorcerers operated in shadowed secrecy here, unlike Outlets World’s openly acknowledged wizards and elves.

In the world of "Rise of the Sorcerers," no one truly comprehends wizards—those who hear of them dismiss such notions as madness or folly.

Wizards "do not exist" within this realm.

Yet compared to mortal inquiries, our travelers place greater faith in the system’s wisdom and the celestial Dao’s guidance.

Wizards must dwell here, for the heaven-aligned system wouldn’t assign impossible trials. The failure lies not in the quest, but in their approach… or perhaps their oversight.

"If only they’d seek us out instead," sighed Song Yi, her breath stirring dust motes in the dim light.

Song Ming rolled his eyes. "Easier said than done, sister."

"Seeking us…" Young Monk Hui Xin’s murmur hung like temple incense before his sudden exclamation: "Not entirely impossible!"

Twin gazes snapped toward him, twin voices harmonizing: "You’ve a plan, young monk?"

"Indeed."

"Recall the English tale—’The Little Boy Fights the No-Nose Demon’?"

Song Yi’s eyebrows arched. "You read children’s stories? I thought monasteries dealt only in sutras."

The young monk rubbed his shaven crown, sheepish. "A visiting lay brother shared it. Their wizards concealed both magic and identity."

"But legends preserve truths," Song Yi mused, fingers tapping her jaw. "If we create spectacle rather than search blindly… But who’d make fitting bait?"

Her words trailed as she turned—only to find Song Ming already staring.

"Eyes to yourself!" She flicked his forehead, but he sidestepped with practiced ease.

"You’re perfect," her brother deadpanned. "Weren’t you mastering that growth spell?"

"Growth spell? That’s wood spirit magic!" Her second swipe met air. When he dodged again, her lips trembled theatrically. "Waaah! My baby brother avoids me now!"

Song Ming froze mid-retreat. The resounding forehead slap echoed. "Satisfied?"

Hui Xin observed their antics with serene detachment. "This humble monk could—"

"—No!" The twins’ unison refusal shimmered with psychic resonance.

No golden-eyed miracles or scripture-chanting bait. The shaven-headed youth radiated sanctity, nothing like clandestine spellcasters.

"Sister’s our witch." Song Ming’s tone brooked no argument. "A glamour here, an illusion there—we’ll guard her."

…

Dawn’s second light found them assessing transformed Song Yi.

"We’re redeeming Mother’s lock after this," Song Ming growled, fingers worrying his empty collar.

"Every thread returned," she vowed, touched by his pawned heirloom financing her silken disguise.

Hui Xin’s knock interrupted. His indrawn breath became soft praise: "This form becomes you, benefactor."

"First time in mortal finery…" She plucked nervously at flowing sleeves. "Truly?"

"My sister is indeed stunning," Song Ming declared with an approving thumbs-up. "Dressed like this, none would doubt her identity as a witch."

The black Gothic gown cascaded in rippling waves from its cinched waist, its dramatic silhouette accentuated by matching elbow-length satin gloves. Her raven tresses, artfully curled and gathered, shimmered beneath an ornate hairpiece.

Wood spirit magic revealed dual aspects of nature’s cycle:

Through infusion of Spiritual Energy, practitioners could nurture flora to unprecedented vitality.

Conversely, they could strip vegetation of life essence, reducing thriving greenery to withered husks within moments.

"Check these instruments for flaws," Song Ming instructed, producing a cluster of interconnected glass vials. The largest vessel, no thicker than a thumb, contained liquids swirling in uncanny chromatic hues.

Their initial scheme to pose as ignorant magic novices had been discarded, replaced by this bold embrace of archetypal witchcraft. Neither Song Ming nor Hui Xin possessed cosmetic skills, relegating them to spectators during the transformation.

Thanks to Song Yi’s habit of carrying basic cosmetics – a foresight that spared them the exorbitant costs of procuring eighteenth-century beauty supplies – the witch’s visage gradually took form.

—— Blue Star ——

As the final hour counted down for second-wave registrations, the virtual world platform erupted with an unexpected announcement. The Galactic Empire and Rise of the Sorcerers worlds would now accept tasker applications directly through their interface.

Qualified applicants risked point deductions and integrity penalties for unmet obligations, though exceptions permitted special considerations. This unilateral declaration, bypassing governmental channels entirely, sent shockwaves through official and civilian circles alike.

"Equal footing at last," Jiang Nan mused, elbows propped on his desk as he reviewed the published notice. "No more backdoor privileges." His powered-off phone lay discarded – better to avoid the inevitable flood of diplomatic inquiries.

He submitted his own application for Galactic Empire, gambling that his substantial debt would weight the selection algorithm in his favor. The registration portal nearly buckled under unprecedented traffic, though its deceptively simple interface masked formidable backend infrastructure.

Through administrator privileges, Jiang Nan watched registration figures skyrocket. Soul crossing offered game-like immersion without physical risks – Blue Star’s foundational support and Heavenly Dao’s guardianship ensured even fatal errors wouldn’t diminish true capabilities. Yet this very safety net invited greater recklessness.

"With 5% progress unlocking regional communications…" Jiang Nan muttered, tracking the climbing metrics. "New maps and tech trees accelerating conquests… This might as well be a strategy game."

/ Special Bureau – Zhejiang Province Branch /

In the Analysis Department’s sanctum, Ye Er’s fingers flew across her console. "So this explains my first-wave exclusion," she murmured, compiling her application with practiced efficiency. The True Form’s abrupt policy shift deserved at least a notification.

/ Eastern Sea City /

Ao Ming’s clawed finger hovered over the registration interface. "A world ruled by technology…" The dragon sovereign reviewed his schedule – no immediate obligations beyond managing spirit cultivator affairs in his elder brother’s prolonged absence. None of the ancient demon lords showed interest in governance anyway.

His decision crystallized upon remembering Ao Lan’s tales of Heavenly Inquiry World. With precise tap, the Dragon of Eastern Waters joined the digital fray.

With the current reality that beings above Tier Nine cannot exist outside the Mountain and Sea Realm, several of the Nine Extreme Demon Lords were feigning ignorance, shirking any connection to themselves.

Fortunately, relations between spirit cultivators and human cultivators remained amicable, allowing harmonious coexistence without the constant decision-making burdens of former times.

Under these circumstances, pursuing personal interests seemed only natural.

This event’s registration imposed no restrictions on racial strength—only requiring participants to be Practitioners—and likely posed minimal danger.

/ World Tree /

Ye Linlang’s usual office stood empty as she immersed herself in studying cosmic principles, having delegated all affairs to the system’s management.

The system wouldn’t interrupt her unless truly insurmountable issues arose.

In her absence, the silent chamber hummed with background operations—countless processes hidden from visible display.

Yet adhering to its master’s preferences, the system maintained constellations of shimmering screens throughout the space.

This spectacle could easily be mistaken for divine handiwork by any observer.

The monitors displayed both known worlds familiar to Blue Star’s inhabitants and embryonic realms yet undiscovered.

Each screen’s lower-left corner bore precise identifiers—planetary names, world titles, or shimmering cosmic coordinates.

Worlds marked with stellar coordinates teemed with peculiar lifeforms: sparse populations exhibiting remarkable intelligence.

Amidst the kaleidoscopic displays, one terminal shone with celestial purity—a white interface framed by nebular tendrils resembling dendritic patterns within a great tree’s crown.

This pristine forum, untouched by any digital footprint, bore the designation: Source World Forum.

Designed for civilizations across the source world’s cosmos, its entry requirements seemed deceptively simple—yet the activation threshold demanded reaching Ye Linlang’s designated Tier One development stage. Current projections suggested the Atlantean civilization might claim inaugural access.

However, should Blue Star’s inhabitants assimilate the Galactic Empire’s technologies with sufficient speed, they might unexpectedly leapfrog into qualification—provided their fractious nations achieved unprecedented unity.

Was such cooperation possible? The stars held their secrets.

/ Blue Star /

/ Kunlun Mountain Top /

The selection criteria for the second qualification batch remained enigmatic, all slots mysteriously filled during the countdown’s final five minutes.

Successful taskers immediately sought quiet places to activate privileges through virtual world access—delay beyond five minutes meant automatic disqualification.

After alerting Kunlun’s sentinels, Ji Lang settled into meditative posture.

Reality dissolved as the virtual world enveloped him.

Other realms fascinated him—their unknown contours tantalizing his imagination.

Though his True Form commanded Kunlun guardianship without specifying duration, the prohibition against departure stood absolute.

Previously abandoning Time Travel aspirations due to physical constraints, he now seized this unexpected opportunity.

Since Ye Linlang’s retreat into cosmic contemplation, her created personas had scattered like caged birds set free.

As extensions of the world’s most exalted being, these avatars maintained dignified conduct befitting their originator’s status.

The bond between True Form and manifestations ranged from fragile threads allowing painless dissolution to profound connections like Ji Lang and Xiao Tianji’s—entities indistinguishable from humans yet ever-conscious of their essence as conceptual fragments.

Originally, Ji Lang had worried his True Form might forbid such shortcuts among their manifested selves. Yet now that he had been chosen… If not mere coincidence, it meant their originator had foreseen this long ago.

This thought surfaced as Ji Lang opened his eyes in Another World.

Had Ye Linlang anticipated this too? Likely – she’d never been one for complacency herself.

/ Rise of the Sorcerers · World /

Upon Tower Bridge’s weathered stones,

Ji Lang stood assessing his predicament. The moment his consciousness settled, he discovered one foot already dangling over void.

Had he awakened seconds later, this borrowed flesh might’ve completed its suicidal plunge.

Bystanders crowded the foul-aired scene, their presence grating. Retracting his foot, he turned to the murmuring crowd, their pleas for him not to end it all buzzing like gnats.

“Might someone assist me up?” he inquired. The bridge’s ironwork pressed against his back, Thames’ currents churning below. Drowning wasn’t the peril – his swimming skills precluded that – but an unplanned dip served no purpose.

Though newly arrived, Ji Lang already sensed this wouldn’t be pastoral tourism. His first discovery here had been powerlessness: every shred of cultivation vanished, leaving him ordinary.

Were it otherwise, he’d never have requested mortal aid.

【System Alert: All taskers in X1-* (Codename: Rise of Sorcerers) acknowledge.】

【Source World reinforcements contingent on 5% world progression. Expedite initiation objectives…】

His task interface flickered:

【Identity confirmed: No.17/Kunlun Guardian】

【Initial Task Ascension: [Become 18th Century’s Paramount Influencer]】

A mental question mark materialized. This frivolous objective served as initiation?

“Miss? Are you hurt?” The bashful constable’s query recalled him to present matters.

Ji Lang inclined his head, flawless RP accent shaping gratitude: “My thanks for the rescue. The inconvenience is regretted.”

The performance felt hollow – how could one mimic unfamiliar mannerisms? His courtesy carried glacial remove, the detachment familiar to all Zhongxia’s citizens. The Sword Immortal’s reputation preceded him: a soul wedded to Kunlun’s snows and blade’s cold kiss, who greeted dawn with drawn steel and sheathed it at dusk.

“That bloke’s daft, abandoning such beauty…” the officer blurted.

Ah. A lovelorn suicide attempt? The concept baffled. What were transient passions compared to eternal mountains?

“Your documents, miss. Found where you…”

Amid the young police officer’s chatter, Ji Lang gleaned details about his current physical vessel and ultimately requested escort home. Though unaware of this body’s residence himself, the officer had retrieved the information from identification documents after the river incident. Thus he came to know the vessel’s name – Catherine, rather melodious indeed.

Upon entering Catherine’s dwelling,

Ji Lang conducted a thorough survey of the premises before pausing before the vanity mirror. One eyebrow arched in contemplation.

How could such visage suffer heartbreak?

The glass reflected expansive eyes beneath golden lashes, sculpted nose above sensually curved lips, all framed by flowing golden tresses – an undisputed beauty by any cultural standard.

"To become the most influential figure." The whisper curled his lips into a smile that illuminated the room before vanishing like morning mist. "Objective identified."

"Intriguing."

Even in stillness, the mirror’s occupant remained arresting. Small wonder the officer had fumbled for conversation throughout their journey, finally pressing a scribbled number into his palm before departure.

/ Galactic Empire · World /

"You’re truly going through with this?"

Qi Qiuyun watched scissors gleam near Leng Xingwen’s legendary locks. What he’d assumed to be yesterday’s jest had materialized into blades seeking sacrifice.

That obsidian cascade – the envy of court ladies, impossibly sleek despite waist-length span – had once brushed against Qi Qiuyun’s fingers during an accidental encounter. The memory of that silk-through-water sensation made him wince at each metallic snip.

"Necessary." The blades flashed. "Conspicuousness serves us poorly now."

As raven strands pooled about polished boots, Qi Qiuyun protested: "Self-barbery? At least visit a salon! This butchery will leave you looking chewed by starhounds."

"Unnecessary."

Yet with each precise cut, Qi Qiuyun’s objections died. The emerging layers defied logic – clean angles at the crown, graduated lengths along the neckline, as if invisible hands guided each snip.

"Rearview perfection? Do your follicles house spy drones?" The quip slipped out, testament to their eased rapport – precisely as Leng Xingwen had calculated. Bonding served future designs better than wariness.

"Merely aptitude." No mention of spiritual perception guiding the shears.

The transformed figure turned, collecting every severed strand into jade-inlaid case. Stripped of ornate robes and shorn of historic tresses, Leng Xingwen now mirrored any modern aristocrat – save for the inborn elegance no garment could mimic.

"Our mobility improves thus."

Qi Qiuyun’s cheek twitched. "With that face? You’ll draw crowds regardless."

"…Your satisfaction suffices."

Five days since emergence. One spent navigating virtual world’s announcements. The second wave’s soul-transfer arrival mandated expedited world conquest.

Commercial hub’s glittering center called – not the provincial city he’d first mistaken for empire’s heart. Today’s destination pulsed with true power.

Lacking identification protocols required Qi Qiuyun’s assistance in spacecraft procurement. The crystal card’s balance would suffice… for now.