Chapter Sixteen: The Lady Meng
Nine years ago, a figure strode along a path just outside a small town. Behind him followed some unfathomable presence—unseen yet palpable—radiating hatred, terror, dread, and a myriad of extreme emotions that trailed him step by step.
The town was called Ancient City—yes, simply “Ancient City.”
The figure seemed to be Li Fengyin, though that name belonged to another identity.
“Who am I really?”
“Where does everything originate?”
“What am I to do?”
...
Perhaps those colloquial questions hinted at some truth, yet none but this pondering figure, moving forward step by step, grasped a fragment of it.
What was terrifying, however, was that this figure’s memory was rapidly fading. Perhaps all his thoughts would soon vanish.
“Then why continue to think?”
“Why?”
“Why?”
...
Li Fengyin found himself momentarily lost in thought, recalling certain past events. Yet one thing remained uncertain: his own name. His true name may not be Li Fengyin.
His surname was “He.”
“Spirit King!”
The words slipped out involuntarily.
Beside him, Pang Wei, who was eating lamb stew bread with his head down, heard Li Fengyin and looked somewhat speechless. “Fengyin, what are you thinking about now?”
Shen Liangxin seemed to sense something, while Su Yuxian glanced at Pang Wei. “Does Li Fengyin often do this?”
“More accurately, he has trained himself to think instinctively,” Pang Wei explained. “Sometimes, his mind wanders to terrifying matters.”
Shen Liangxin’s eyes brightened. “Does it have to do with the Spirit King?”
She meticulously verified quantum entanglement but was unaware that this was merely an excuse to understand Li Fengyin.
“Yeah.”
Li Fengyin nodded but said no more. Pang Wei elaborated again, “He thinks about whatever he sees, often drawing strange conclusions, but he rarely shares them with others.”
Shen Liangxin recalled conversations between herself, Li Fengyin, and the bodyguard in the hospital room. It seemed this guy appeared simple but had honed a certain cunning to a remarkable degree.
Turning thought into instinct?!
“Is your calculation speed faster than your output speed?”
Suddenly, Shen Liangxin blurted out this question. Li Fengyin took a bite of his lamb stew bread and nodded, “Indeed.”
...
Su Yuxian, calm and gentle, fell silent. The world seemed vastly different from what she had imagined.
Garlic pickles, a necessary accompaniment to lamb stew bread, were served in six small dishes for the four of them. Unexpectedly, Shen Liangxin alone ate three of the dishes.
Delicately wiping her lips, Shen Liangxin silently donned her purple-framed glasses and said, “Let me pay!”
Pang Wei raised his hands in agreement. Li Fengyin thought for a moment—he had no money—while Su Yuxian did not rush to grab the bill either.
Meanwhile, outside the shop, a transparent figure seemed to appear, invisible to all. It resembled an old military uniform worn by someone whose lower body was that of a serpent. Yet overwhelming hatred, terror, and dread emanated from it, unsettling everyone inside.
Li Fengyin, however, appeared familiar with this sensation. “Meng Po?”
He called out silently in his heart. The serpentine figure approached his side but remained intangible.
“Long time no see~”
“Hmm.”
Li Fengyin understood: he was about to enter that state once again—forgetting the nine years he had endured.
“Do you want to remember everything?”
A gentle yet slightly hoarse female voice echoed in his mind—Meng Po’s voice.
“If the pain becomes unbearable again, you’ll have to rely on yourself,” Meng Po whispered softly. “I have no more of my soup left to help you forget the pain.”
Li Fengyin nodded. “It’s okay. Maybe this time I can endure it on my own.”
“You’ve grown again.”
“No, maybe I’ve found a girl I can lean on, someone to share life’s hardships with.”
...
In the Underworld’s Shangbei City, ashes scattered across the sky. Zheng Chao could barely keep walking; his feet crushed so much ash that bones were exposed, and his legs felt corroded. But what worried him most was not the wounds, but a strange change overtaking his body.
A pale, shell-like transformation!
The figure he had previously seen hiding behind a vehicle also bore this pale shell.
“Could they be people who accidentally fell into the Underworld and never escaped?”
Zheng Chao grew anxious. When would the next chance to leave the Underworld come? How far could he continue to endure?
...
“Forget it,” Zheng Chao lifted a defiant smile once more. “So many times I have faced despair—just keep going as long as you can.”
Step by step, footprints marked the ash behind the path of the Living Realm.
...
“Mingyu, where are you?”
An aged voice sounded from a silver-white phone. A gentle man with black tousled hair replied warmly, “I’m at the south gate of Shangbei City.”
“That’s perfect. You need to retrieve the Falling Feather firearm from the Underworld. In this world, only you can do it.”
Su Mingyu recalled the duel on the island long ago, realizing it had been many years since he last saw the other person.
“Is there a specific location?”
The man in white asked softly.
“Outside Hongye Mall. That’s where he fell into the Underworld.”
“Alright.”
...
Zheng Chao walked through Shangbei City in the Underworld, paying no attention to his surroundings, unaware of his exact location. The ash thickened, like white fog blanketing everything, yet he followed the path of the Living Realm step by step.
His right arm had completely turned pale, resembling plastic molded for a mannequin.
More terrifyingly, Zheng Chao noticed shadowy shapes in the indistinct surroundings slowly closing in on him.
“Evil spirits,”
At this moment, the Living Realm voice finally spoke. “They are the root of all things. Do you know about sperm?”
“Sperm?”
Zheng Chao, his consciousness foggy, asked instinctively.
“The only way out of the Underworld is to become like a fertilized egg, a one-in-a-billion chance. So every living person in reality silently views themselves as the protagonist during childhood.”
The Living Realm suddenly stopped, then turned to face Zheng Chao.
“Are you willing to become one of them?”
Su Mingyu arrived outside Shangbei City’s south gate, standing amid the crowd unnoticed. His form seemed to lighten. The next moment, he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he was surrounded by the ash-filled Underworld, and all others had vanished without a trace.
“Lord Mingyu has returned!”
Voices of joy came from somewhere unknown.
“Lord Mingyu has returned!”