Chapter 51

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Chapter 51: Title

Ye Linlang attended the Special Bureau’s training for a month, though she absconded on the third day—not out of laziness, but necessity.

The Bureau’s grueling curriculum would overwhelm even examination warriors, let alone someone who’d never stressed over the College Entrance Examination. Leaving a phantom decoy in her seat, the self-proclaimed "lazy carp" slipped away. Her days brimmed with responsibilities; every occurrence on Blue Star required meticulous oversight to prevent narrative deviations.

When researchers vanished in Shennongjia, Ye Linlang immediately detected the anomaly. While fissures in the Mountain and Sea Realm would naturally expand over time, this premature rupture defied all calculations. Against expectations, the realm’s inhabitants had rebelled—hurling themselves against dimensional barriers despite mortal peril.

Naturally, no creature of her design could fracture world walls. Yet their desperate assault generated sufficient Spatial Disturbance to teleport the unfortunate scientists into their domain. Worse still, the group scattered across hostile territories upon arrival.

Their survival astonished her. Though injuries occurred, no fatalities marred this cosmic mishap. Deaths would constitute true calamity, given humanity’s current inability to access the Mountain and Sea Realm. The stranded researchers’ fates now depended on their adaptability within this primordial ecosystem.

Danger permeated every aspect of the realm. Beyond Strange Beasts from the Classic of Mountains and Seas, mythical creatures of every description roamed freely. The fifteen accidental intruders found themselves demoted to the food chain’s absolute base.

Ye Linlang’s contemplation broke as golden-scaled legions breached the Yellow River’s surface. Countless Carp arched through air, scales glinting as they strained to ascend ever higher.

"Did every fish from the Yellow River gather here?"

"All Carp, no less!"

"This upstream migration will dominate headlines!"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd witnessing the piscine spectacle. The gathering resulted from Ye Linlang’s intervention—she’d simply awakened their ancestral memory of the Dragon Gate’s imminent manifestation. Biological evolution’s relentless drive now played out through their Hierarchy of Life metamorphosis: the sacred transformation into a dragon.

Even she marveled at the response magnitude. A golden radiance unseen by mortal eyes descended from the firmament, coalescing within a particularly resplendent Carp. Its already golden-tinged scales ignited into molten brilliance upon absorption.

"It begins," Ye Linlang murmured, recognizing the Spatial Disturbance’s architect. The golden dragon’s audacity commanded respect—this third-ranked Tier Nine entity had willingly shed celestial might, its fractured essence now reborn in piscine form.

Her creation protocols flashed through memory: initial parameters set, then fifty millennia compressed through Fantasy Points-fueled Time Acceleration. The system logs testified to five thousand centuries of contained evolution within the small world. Even for millennial sleepers, such prolonged confinement proved intolerable—only the realm’s formidable seals had prevented earlier breaches.

"Gold! That Carp’s golden!" A binoculars-wielding youth jostled his companion. Phone cameras captured only auric blurs leaping toward the river’s mysteriously placid upper reaches, where water lay mirror-still despite the Yellow River’s famed turbulence.

In Ye Linlang’s palm materialized a Dragon Gate phantom—her original Tier One blueprint, now prematurely deployed. Plans required adjustment, but the golden dragon’s gambit demanded response. The true spectacle was about to commence.

Under controllable circumstances, Ye Linlang didn’t mind allowing unplanned events to unfold naturally, even if these "accidents" required subsequent interventions. The Dragon Gate wasn’t native to this world – a Tier Seven entity couldn’t be directly introduced into this Tier One world without provoking Heavenly Dao’s resistance.

"Maximum-level sealing it is." Ye Linlang channeled rule power to impose six seals upon the Dragon Gate, a secondary achievement from her spatial rule studies. She hurled the artifact into the alternate space above Yellow River – a minuscule dimension fundamentally different from Mountain and Sea Realm.

This temporary solution stored the Tier Seven Dragon Gate until Blue Star’s evolution to Tier Seven, when the miniature space would naturally integrate with the planet. Until then, every manifestation required her explicit authorization.

The golden Carp surged forward as upstream waters churned violently, swirling mists coalescing into spectral forms. Sunlight illuminated the vapor, revealing an ancient phantom gateway flanked by jade pillars and crowned with ornate archways.

"Release restrictions," Ye Linlang commanded.

Blinding radiance erupted instantaneously, momentarily overwhelming spectators. "The Dragon Gate?" people murmured, awestruck by the transformed river where gilded pillars now bore carvings of ascending giant dragons.

Among countless Carps that perished belly-up during preliminary trials, only a handful remained. The crowd silently calculated survival odds for these finalists facing the millennial rarity of carp leaping over dragon gate.

Monitoring her phone, Ye Linlang noted the five-minute countdown – this brief manifestation consumed nearly fifty million Fantasy Points. "It’s jumping!" shore observers cried as the golden Carp vaulted upward.

Ye Linlang remained impassive. With golden dragon’s essence within, failure would astonish her more than success. Her interest focused on other contenders in this prematurely initiated trial – the Awakening of Spiritual Energy being merely two months old, far shorter than her original three-month schedule post Mountain and Sea Realm’s emergence.

Though concerned about potential total failure, she refrained from intervention. These survivors represented one-in-thousand-mile champions – assisting them would violate fairness.

Transformation into dragon required no numerical restrictions, only candidates possessing the trinity of capability: strength, fortune, and lineage. As paramount beings among spirit cultivators, dragon race populations remained heaven-regulated – excessive numbers would drain Heavenly Dao’s resources catastrophically.

The golden Carp plunged into the water before flicking its tail upward, surging toward the surface in an explosive burst of Spiritual Energy that sent crystalline spray arcing through the air.

The droplets hung suspended over ten-meter heights as the Carp vaulted higher than its own cascading wake—a suspended moment stretching between heartbeats—until before the breathless crowd, it cleared the Dragon Gate.

In the Special Bureau’s observation room, satellite feeds revealed Xi Ning’s paling face and Yan Hua’s tightened jaw amidst their colleagues’ varying reactions. Xi Ning’s thoughts stuttered: The legend’s true. While we’re still struggling with spirits and searching for the Mountain and Sea Realm, a dragon’s born.

Along the Yellow River’s banks, the Carp’s form elongated mid-leap—camel-headed, antlered, serpent-bodied—until a golden dragon coiled through thunder-laden skies. From gathering storm clouds, eerie violet lightning struck eighty-one times, each bolt searing scales with primordial fire.

When the last thunderclap faded, the dragon’s roar shook remaining stormclouds into rain-heavy darkness. Torrents drenched the land yet magically avoided the Dragon Gate’s vicinity, awakening dazed tourists to reality. Three Carps remained circling below.

The final challengers proved worthy. Red and black Carps breached the Gate together, their newborn dragon forms immediately battered by cascading lightning. Crimson and obsidian scales gleamed through bloodied torrents—far less graceful than their golden predecessor’s transformation.

A scarlet dragon’s anguished cry pierced the storm as it plummeted. Simultaneously, the last Carp—a mottled creature lacking its peers’ brilliance—cleared the arch.

"What’s happening?" The crowd’s murmur rippled like disturbed water.

The red giant dragon’s impact stained the Yellow River briefly crimson before currents erased all traces. As its body drifted downstream, aquatic creatures swarmed the fallen deity—life gathering where life had departed.

Dragons rise from waves and return to depths.

When the black dragon faltered under the eighty-first strike, the golden one swooped to cradle its battered form. Meanwhile, the plain-looking Carp emerged from tribulations as a white dragon, its pearlescent scales glowing through dissipating storm clouds.

As the Dragon Gate’s illusion melted like river foam, rains ceased abruptly. The Yellow River rolled onward, carcasses of lesser fish sinking unnoticed—surface tranquility masking the day’s wonders.

"Three…" Ye Linlang tapped her chin while studying the white dragon, her divination revealing unexpected ties to the Yellow River’s Ancient Stone Tablet. A lucky encounter during the Awakening of Spiritual Energy era.

"Tch. Still, oceans suit dragons better." Invoking Heavenly Dao’s authority, she explained their new role in quelling chaotic seas. Ruthless seals descended upon the trio—Tier Seven cultivation restrained by world’s current limits, yet with freedom to unlock their own bindings.

No divine dragon of Huaxia should suffer the indignity of human coercion.

The three soared eastward. When their claws touched seawater, the Jiuzhou barrier rippled outward, claiming four million square kilometers of ocean. Ye Linlang smiled at the implications—let territorial nations negotiate with the dragon race now.

Dragons wear generosity like ceremonial robes, but beneath lies the steel of hoarded treasures. Those coveting islands or seabed riches might petition the scaled sovereigns… provided they enjoy swimming with sharks.

The Jiuzhou barrier, at its core, embodies the collective willpower of the people. The 1.5 billion citizens of Zhongxia form the primary source of its strength, with disputed territories, contested natural resources, and islands within its domain all contributing to this ancient safeguard.

Ye Linlang couldn’t be bothered with historical debates over sovereignty. She knew future generations wouldn’t dare challenge Zhongxia’s authority – not when the nation had begun flexing its might. Though unintentional, this display of extraordinary power had smaller nations scrambling to align themselves with Zhongxia, while neighboring countries maintained cautious silence.

Since its founding, Zhongxia had cultivated an international reputation worthy of a great civilization – even fools understood the peril of crossing such a nation. Yet none except Ye Linlang noticed the barrier’s subtle disturbances. She saw no need to alert the Special Bureau; they’d discover the anomaly soon enough.

Her brow suddenly furrowed as she glanced westward. In a heartbeat, she vanished from her position.

Could Kunlun’s unrest mean their plans arrived prematurely?

*

Kunlun Mountain

"Is this really Kunlun? It’s breathtaking." Gu Cheng adjusted his backpack, drinking in the vista of emerald meadows and whispering pines. The cleansing mountain breeze carried hints of pine resin and distant snow.

"We’re still thirty minutes from the Eye of Hell," Yun Yu consulted his GPS tracker. "The legends described this place differently."

Ancient texts spoke of Kunlun’s forbidden zone – the Eye of Hell where no life could endure, a place of perpetual storms and barren rock. The reality before them contradicted every grim tale.

"Brother, let’s rest." Gu Qian unscrewed her canteen, her practical hiking outfit dusted with trail grit. At twenty-two, she moved with the assured grace of seasoned mountaineers.

Gu Cheng immediately dropped his pack. "When Qian calls timeout, we listen."

"Ah Yu," the siblings turned to their map-bearing companion, "think we’ll actually find anything?"

Yun Yu glared at the twins. "Whether we do or not, my father will skin me alive. You two never ask permission – just drag me into your schemes!"

"Your navigation skills saved us three wrong turns already," Gu Qian chuckled. "Unlike my directionally-challenged brother here."

The trio crossed into the Eye of Hell’s territory forty minutes later.

"Scary? This looks like prime camping ground." Gu Cheng kicked a pebble down the trail. Since the Awakening of Spiritual Energy, countless seekers had scoured legendary sites like this. Their group represented the new generation of truth-seekers – drawn by Kunlun’s rumored anomalies during the Energy Surge.

"Press on?" Gu Cheng inhaled the crisp air, detecting no abnormal Spiritual Energy concentrations. Twin peaks loomed ahead, their shadowed pass beckoning.

"Thank the stars for proper climbing gear," Yun Yu muttered as they approached the narrowing path.

Gu Qian froze mid-step. "This mountain… it feels…"

"Something wrong?" Her brother’s hand went to his gear belt.

"Nothing." She shook her head, the strange sensation evaporating like morning mist. "Trail fatigue, probably."

The ancient footpath between the mountains tested their resolve. Thigh-high weeds clutched at their gear, demanding constant slashing with hiking poles. They progressed inch by stubborn inch into the green labyrinth.

(Scene continues)

They finally left the narrow path—though "narrow" only compared to the flanking mountains, as the road itself measured seven to eight meters wide.

The valley between the peaks lay veiled in swirling mists, its frigid air seeping into their bones. The Special Bureau had previously inspected Kunlun, but before the emergence of the Lost Space, sealing such vast terrain proved impossible. Patrols conducted triweekly checks, yet countless seekers of immortality still ventured here.

All returned disappointed. No mystical encounters materialized in these silent peaks, and even as chaos engulfed the world beyond, Kunlun’s tranquility lulled visitors into complacency.

"What an enormous door…" Gu Cheng breathed, gaping at the colossal structure. He yanked the arm of his childhood friend, who’d once shared his split-crotch pants days. "Hurry—check if this is a cultural relic!"

"Relic your head," Yun Yu retorted, wrenching his arm free with a twitching lip.

"Must be dozens of meters tall," Gu Qian mused beside them, snapping photos with her camera. "Brother, are we the first to discover this?"

"Likely. No records mention gates in Kunlun. We’re pioneers."

"I’m going closer," Gu Cheng declared, taking three bold steps forward.

Yun Yu seized his collar. "Are you mad? This whole place reeks of danger—that door especially. Back off!"

"Then what?" Gu Cheng laughed awkwardly, his earlier enthusiasm dimming.

The Spiritual Network’s warnings echoed in their minds: avoid contact with anomalies, immediately call emergency lines for professional assistance.

"Ah Yu, it seems harmless. Let’s just approach a little."

"From this distance, the photos won’t capture details."

"I need to examine the door’s engravings," Gu Qian insisted.

"Stay put, both of you," Yun Yu commanded, snatching the camera. "I’ll scout first."

"You? Facing danger alone?" Gu Cheng blocked his path with a derisive snort. "I’m faster. If trouble comes, I’ll outrun it."

Gu Qian and Yun Yu exchanged resigned glances. The logic, however infuriating, held merit.

Gu Cheng ultimately advanced with the camera while Gu Qian prepared the Special Bureau’s emergency number on her phone—unnoticed by all, the signal indicator had already vanished.

Atop Kunlun’s highest peak stood a woman of glacial composure. Her white long dress flowed beneath a silver overdrape, a long sword clasped in her hand. Her ethereal beauty and solitary grace seemed otherworldly.

"Intruders breached the barrier… That Abyssal aura’s potency exceeds expectations. Flawless simulation, System." Ye Linlang resisted eye-rolling, mindful of maintaining her persona despite the isolation.

From her vantage point, the entire mountain range sprawled below like a submissive dragon. The urge to test aerial swordsmanship struck her. At her mental command, the silver blade—its surface engraved with flowering vines—leaped from its scabbard and hovered expectantly.

She alighted onto the slender weapon with practiced ease. "Forbidden land," she murmured.

The sword hummed in response, then shot through the skies like a comet, bearing its mistress toward the Eye of Hell.

Ye Linlang’s black hair streamed wildly in the wind as her robes flapped fiercely. With a sweeping gesture, she summoned a Protective Shield of Spiritual Energy, instantly stilling the turbulent air.

"Low cultivation makes sword flight impractical – hardly majestic when your hairstyle gets ruined," she muttered, abandoning her Tier One sword-flying aspirations with a dismissive click of her tongue.

The long sword’s trajectory across the heavens left a luminous streak, captured and shared online by observant witnesses.

Information Section 2 promptly flagged the footage, routing it through multiple verifications before Analysis Section 3’s scrutiny. The processed report soon reached both director and Deputy Director’s desks.

Unaware of these developments, Ye Linlang focused solely on the Eye of Hell. Below, three individuals photographing the Bronze Door started at the metallic clang reverberating through the valley. Their gazes lifted to behold a figure poised upon a hovering long sword, peering down like celestial judgment incarnate.

"Who dares trespass this sacred ground?"

"S-Sword Immortal?" Gu Cheng stammered, transfixed.

Her voice carried the eternal chill of Kunlun’s glacial peaks, eyes glinting with frost-bound detachment. What struck the trio most profoundly wasn’t her striking features, but the oppressive aura radiating from her mere presence – an invisible weight constricting their chests.

When no answer came, the sword-borne figure flicked her sleeve, sending them tumbling meters from the Bronze Door. As her boots touched earth, the long sword slid home into its scabbard with serpentine grace.

The three sprawled in the dirt, miraculously unharmed beyond superficial grime.

Brushing off vegetation, Gu Qian steadied her breathing before addressing the enigma before them. "She mentioned forbidden land?" Gu Cheng gulped audibly.

Yun Yu suppressed a sigh at his companion’s delayed comprehension – childhood bonds truly tested one’s patience.

"Forgive our intrusion, honored elder," Gu Qian advanced cautiously, recognizing the archaic attire from Spiritual Network streams featuring ancient practitioners.

"Absolute accident, we swear!" Gu Cheng bobbed his head like anxious waterfowl. "We’ll depart immediately," Yun Yu added urgently, keen to escape this ominous place.

The white-clad Sword Immortal studied them with piercing intensity. "How came you through the barrier unscathed?"

Three bewildered faces mirrored mutual confusion. "Barrier? We’re merely explorers," Yun Yu explained hastily.

"Like all the others," came the icy retort. "Seeking treasures? However you bypassed detection, mortals shouldn’t tread here." Her gaze sharpened. "Has any touched this door?"

"Never! It’s too… unsettling," Gu Cheng laughed nervously. Up close, the door’s grotesque carvings writhed with sinister vitality, deterring even reckless curiosity.

Gu Qian’s fleeting tension escaped notice as the Sword Immortal pressed: "Speak true – contact made?"

Ye Linlang’s pulse quickened beyond what mere barrier breaches caused. Even her Fantasy Points-crafted replicas within demanded utmost caution, their potency mirroring genuine artifacts.

The three individuals shook their heads.

As Gu Cheng shook his head, he suddenly noticed Gu Qian’s hidden hand unconsciously clenching behind her back, making his heart lurch.

Could my sister have touched that peculiar door? The thought flashed through Gu Cheng’s mind, draining all color from his face.

Given how protective the ancient practitioner was about the Bronze Door, who knew what dangers it held? If discovered, their chances of leaving unscathed would vanish like morning mist.

"Unwilling to confess?"

"I was meditating with my sword at Kunlun Mountain’s summit when someone breached the barrier and disturbed the Bronze Door. The culprit stands among you three."

"This is my final inquiry." The words fell like icicles. "Who. Touched. It?"

Gu Qian’s knuckles whitened as the temperature plummeted, her breath crystallizing in the sudden frost.

Gu Cheng needed no further clues. He stepped forward, shielding his twin sister with his body.

"I did."

"Brother!"

"Gu Cheng! Stop lying!" Yun Yu hissed. The boy who jumped at horror movie jump-scares daring to touch the ancient relic? Impossible.

"Curiosity got the better of me." Gu Cheng scratched his neck with forced nonchalance.

Ye Linlang’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "You claim responsibility?" Her voice carried the weight of glacial patience.

"Yes." The word tasted metallic on Gu Cheng’s tongue.

"So be it. You’ll remain."

Ye Linlang’s gaze flickered to Gu Qian. She’d planned to detain the true offender – contact with the Bronze Door risked unleashing premature calamities upon the world. But these mortals insisted on weaving their own doom.

"No!" Yun Yu’s protest echoed off the mountain walls.

Gu Cheng blinked stupidly. "Wait, what?"

"This is my fault!" Gu Qian surged forward, tears freezing on her cheeks. The twins’ telepathic bond thrummed with unspoken fears.

"Enough!" Gu Cheng barked, cutting off her confession. One misstep could unleash the sword-wielder’s wrath.

"I dragged them here," he declared, surprising himself with sudden conviction. "Ah Yu, take Qian home. Tell my parents I’m… extending my vacation."

Yun Yu yanked him aside, voice trembling with fury. "Have you lost your mind? That cultivator descended from the heavens on a flying sword! Even Sword Immortal can’t achieve that!"

Gu Cheng’s laugh came out strangled. "You think she’ll let me refuse? Look at her blade!"

Ye Linlang stared impassively at the distant peaks. Every whispered word carried clearly to her ears – such was the advantage of her cultivation. But dignity forbade acknowledging their mortal scheming.

The mountain wind howled through the silence.

"You all go ahead. I’ll be fine."

"If anything happens, it’s our own fault for trespassing where we shouldn’t." Gu Cheng clasped Yun Yu’s shoulder while glancing at guilt-stricken Gu Qian. "Make sure my sister gets back safely."

"Brother, I…" Gu Qian clutched his hand tighter.

"Go now." Gu Cheng preemptively silenced her unspoken protest.

Yun Yu remained silent, thumb still pressing against his phone’s blank screen. No signal meant no hope of contacting the Special Bureau until they escaped this cursed place. "Alright," he finally conceded. "We’ll withdraw."

"Stay alive until we return." The words carried solemn weight as Yun Yu dipped his chin.

When their hushed conference ended, Gu Cheng approached the sword-bearing woman. "Let them go. I’ll remain."

"Your plea is unnecessary." Ye Linlang flicked her sleeve dismissively, sending the pair vanishing mid-breath.

Gu Cheng blinked at the empty space where his sister had stood. "Where did you—"

"Beyond the valley." Her fingers still shimmered with residual energy from the teleportation technique.

Steel hissed as her long sword cleared its sheath. Gu Cheng’s momentary relief curdled into dread. "Just make it quick," he blurted, jaw clenched in false bravery. "I’d rather not suffer."

The last shreds of defiance crumbled into pathetic whimper.

Ye Linlang arched an eyebrow. "Why would I stain my blade?"

Her weapon flipped vertically, hilt-down. Light erupted from the steel, fracturing into hundreds of shimmering phantoms that fanned across the valley like lethal petals. "Secure the perimeter."

As the sword echoes shot skyward, Gu Cheng gaped. "What sorcery is this?"

"Reinforcing the barrier against fools who ignore invisible warnings."

"We didn’t see any signs!"

"The entrance remains veiled from ordinary eyes." Her frosty tone made glaciers seem warm. "Your intrusion proves you’re anything but ordinary."

"Then why spare me?"

Her blade slid home with finality. "The Bronze Door’s touch binds you to Abyss Valley. Ancient laws demand your presence here."

"Until I rot?" Panic edged his voice. "That’s just imprisonment with fancier words!"

"Precisely." She turned away.

"Kill me instead!" The words tumbled out before sense caught up.

Ye Linlang stilled. Slowly, glacially, she rotated to face him. Moonlight caught the deadly promise in her eyes. "Do you truly wish this?"

"I…" His throat dried. "Just… speculating."

As his voice faltered, she became living mist – one heartbeat present, the next dissolved into mountain winds.

Gu Cheng stood alone, clutching fading hope. Somewhere beyond the shimmering barrier, Yun Yu and Gu Qian would find answers. They had to.

When he finally blinked away his stupor, only mocking echoes remained where a swordswoman once stood.