Chapter 4: A Mortal Beneath the Heavens
The world had changed.
Ye Wuchen had understood that much from the moment he awakened.
Eight billion years was not a short period, even by the standards of immortal cultivators. Civilizations could rise from nothing, flourish for millions of years, and disappear so completely that not even their names survived.
He had expected change.
What he had not expected was the disappearance of things that should have remained.
Standing within the Hall of Forgotten Scriptures, Ye Wuchen examined the final remnants of the mysterious inscription.
IF YOU HAVE AWAKENED, THEN WE HAVE ALREADY FAILED.
The words had not changed.
Neither had the name engraved above them.
Yet the message left behind by that familiar voice continued to trouble him.
The final seal has already—
Do not—
An unfinished warning.
A forgotten name.
And an entire stretch of history missing from the system's records.
Ye Wuchen withdrew his gaze.
There was little more to discover here.
At least for now.
"System."
[Yes, Host.]
"Can you determine who owns this palace?"
[Analyzing available information...]
A moment later, a translucent panel appeared.
[Structure designation: Immortal Tomb.]
[Construction date: Unknown.]
[Creator: Unknown.]
[Current ownership: Cannot be verified.]
Ye Wuchen looked around the enormous hall.
Thousands of ancient scriptures floated beneath the artificial stars.
The palace had evidently required considerable effort to construct.
Whoever built it had also taken extraordinary precautions to conceal his sleeping chamber.
Yet its purpose remained unclear.
"Can you determine whether the palace was built to protect me?"
[Insufficient information.]
"Or imprison me?"
[Insufficient information.]
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"Then whoever built it can keep it."
He turned toward the exit.
The system flickered.
[Host, do you intend to abandon the structure?]
"Abandon?"
Ye Wuchen glanced back.
"It was never mine."
[The inner chamber remains registered as the Host's designated resting location.]
"Then leave it there."
He continued walking.
There was no reason to destroy the palace.
Nor was there any reason to remain within it.
If someone had gone to such lengths to construct it, perhaps its existence served a purpose he had yet to understand.
For now, he had more important matters to investigate.
The missing history.
The unfamiliar cultivation system.
And the warning left behind by someone who should have disappeared billions of years ago.
Ye Wuchen passed through the enormous black gates.
For the first time in eight billion years, he stepped beneath an open sky.
The Sky of an Unfamiliar World
Sunlight fell across the mountain.
A gentle breeze moved through the surrounding trees.
Birds sang from distant branches, while thin streams of spiritual energy drifted between the peaks.
Ye Wuchen stood motionless.
His silver eyes slowly examined the world before him.
The mountains were ordinary.
The vegetation was ordinary.
Even the spiritual energy was exceptionally thin.
A cultivator from the ancient Upper Realm would have considered this region unsuitable for prolonged cultivation.
Yet Ye Wuchen paid little attention to the spiritual energy.
Instead, he looked upward.
The sky was blue.
A pale sun hung above the distant mountains.
Everything appeared peaceful.
But something was wrong.
"System."
[Yes, Host.]
"Identify the celestial region."
[Attempting astronomical comparison...]
A translucent star map appeared before him.
Countless points of light formed intricate patterns.
The system began comparing the surrounding world's celestial coordinates with its oldest available records.
Several seconds passed.
Then a notification appeared.
[Comparison unsuccessful.]
[No corresponding celestial configuration found.]
Ye Wuchen remained silent.
"Account for stellar movement."
[Recalculating...]
[Result unchanged.]
"Galactic displacement?"
[No reliable match.]
"Realm migration?"
[Insufficient data.]
Ye Wuchen raised his gaze again.
The stars were not visible in the daylight, but he could perceive their positions without difficulty.
He recognized none of the surrounding celestial structures.
That alone was not particularly alarming.
Eight billion years was enough time for stars to move, die, and be replaced.
But the underlying arrangement of the heavens was another matter.
Certain celestial relationships should have remained recognizable.
Even if entire star regions had collapsed, their traces should still have existed within the greater cosmic structure.
Yet he could find no familiar reference point.
It was as though the heavens had been rearranged.
Or perhaps...
He stopped the thought.
There was not enough information to reach a conclusion.
"Interesting."
The word escaped his lips almost unconsciously.
He lowered his gaze toward the mountain path.
Below him stretched an enormous forest.
Beyond it, faint traces of human settlements could be seen.
Ye Wuchen began descending.
The Disciple Who Returned
At the foot of the mountain, Lin Qingyue was waiting.
She had arrived shortly after sunrise, accompanied by two disciples from the Azure River Sect.
Her master had given her a simple task.
Investigate the mysterious young man encountered inside the Immortal Tomb.
The sect elders were deeply interested in him.
According to Lin Qingyue's report, the black-robed youth possessed no detectable cultivation.
Yet he had somehow entered the ancient palace before the joint expedition.
He also appeared unfamiliar with the Great Yan Dynasty and its history.
Some elders suspected he was a wandering cultivator from a distant region.
Others believed he possessed a concealment treasure.
A few suggested he might be a remnant inhabitant of the ancient inheritance ground.
Lin Qingyue was uncertain.
She only knew that Ye Wuchen did not behave like an ordinary cultivator.
He had shown no excitement upon discovering the ancient scriptures.
No fear when surrounded by unfamiliar disciples.
And no interest in the treasures that could transform the destiny of an entire sect.
He had simply asked questions.
Questions about history.
About cultivation.
About the world.
"Senior Sister."
One of the disciples beside her spoke.
"Are you certain he'll come out?"
Lin Qingyue shook her head.
"No."
"Then why are we waiting here?"
"Because the elders ordered us to investigate."
The disciple sighed.
"Perhaps he's already left through another entrance."
Lin Qingyue was about to respond when she noticed movement along the mountain path.
A figure dressed in black robes was descending through the morning mist.
Long black hair.
Calm expression.
Silver eyes.
She immediately recognized him.
"Fellow Daoist Ye!"
Ye Wuchen stopped.
He looked toward the three disciples.
After a brief pause, he nodded.
"Lin Qingyue."
She seemed surprised that he remembered her name.
"You've left the palace?"
"Yes."
"Did you find what you were searching for?"
"Not entirely."
Lin Qingyue hesitated.
"Then where are you going?"
Ye Wuchen looked toward the distant horizon.
For a moment, his gaze seemed to pass beyond the mountains, beyond the sky, and toward something she could not perceive.
Then he answered.
"To see what remains of the world I once knew."
Lin Qingyue fell silent.
There was something unusual about the way he spoke.
Not sadness.
Not longing.
Simply the calm acknowledgment of someone who had returned to a place that no longer recognized him.
She did not understand why those words made her uneasy.
"Are you heading toward Qinghe City?" she asked.
Ye Wuchen looked at her.
"Is it nearby?"
"About half a day's journey for ordinary travelers. We can reach it much sooner using movement techniques."
"Then I'll go there."
Lin Qingyue smiled.
"Our sect has a residence in the city. If you need information about the surrounding region, I could show you around."
Ye Wuchen considered the offer.
He knew almost nothing about the current Lower Realm.
Having someone familiar with local customs would be convenient.
"Very well."
Lin Qingyue nodded.
"Then let's go."
The Roads of the Great Yan Dynasty
The road toward Qinghe City passed through several mountain valleys.
Merchant caravans traveled between small settlements, carrying medicinal herbs, spirit stones, ordinary grain, and other goods.
Occasionally, cultivators could be seen riding spiritual beasts.
Ye Wuchen walked beside Lin Qingyue.
The two accompanying disciples followed several steps behind.
Along the way, Lin Qingyue explained the local political situation.
Qinghe City belonged to the Great Yan Dynasty's Eastern Frontier.
Although the dynasty officially governed the region, much of its authority was shared with cultivation sects and powerful clans.
The Azure River Sect controlled several spiritual mountains.
The Crimson Cloud Pavilion possessed numerous alchemy workshops.
The Blackstone Sword Sect maintained influence over the surrounding martial families.
Above these local powers existed larger cultivation kingdoms.
And beyond them lay the Eastern Desolation.
Ye Wuchen listened quietly.
The names were unfamiliar.
The political structure, however, was not.
Cultivation civilizations had always organized themselves around strength, resources, and inheritance.
That much had apparently remained unchanged.
After some time, they approached a merchant caravan resting beside the road.
Several wagons stood beneath the shade of enormous trees.
Human merchants were unloading goods.
A few cultivators guarded the perimeter.
Ye Wuchen would have passed without paying attention.
Then he noticed the markings on the wagons.
A black beast head enclosed within a crimson circle.
The same symbol appeared on several metal identification seals worn by the merchants.
He stopped.
"What are those?"
Lin Qingyue followed his gaze.
"The identification seals?"
"Yes."
"They belong to the Ironfang Beast Clan."
Ye Wuchen examined the merchants.
"They're human."
"Of course."
"Then why do they wear the seal of a beast clan?"
Lin Qingyue looked surprised.
"Because they're traveling through Ironfang territory."
Ye Wuchen said nothing.
She continued.
"The Ironfang Beast Clan governs several regions north of the Eastern Frontier. Merchants who travel through their territory must register and obtain permission."
"Human merchants?"
"Anyone who isn't a recognized member of the ruling clans."
Ye Wuchen looked toward the caravan again.
The merchants appeared accustomed to the arrangement.
None seemed particularly concerned.
"Since when," he asked quietly, "did humans require permission to travel their own lands?"
Lin Qingyue blinked.
"Fellow Daoist Ye?"
He turned toward her.
"Nothing."
But his gaze returned to the identification seals.
During the era he remembered, humanity had possessed countless powerful institutions.
The Human Court alone had governed territories spanning numerous realms.
Human cultivators had stood among the most influential beings beneath the heavens.
Of course, that did not mean humanity had ruled everywhere.
The ancient races had possessed their own territories and powers.
Conflicts had been frequent.
Alliances had shifted.
Borders had changed.
Yet the arrangement before him suggested that the balance of power in this region was different.
Perhaps this was merely a local custom.
Perhaps the Lower Realm had always possessed such divisions.
Or perhaps humanity's position had changed during his absence.
Ye Wuchen continued walking.
He had no intention of drawing conclusions from a single caravan.
But he remembered the symbol.
Qinghe City
By late morning, the group reached Qinghe City.
The settlement stood beside a broad river, surrounded by walls constructed from pale gray stone.
Several watchtowers rose above the gates.
Cultivators wearing the Great Yan Dynasty's insignia inspected travelers entering the city.
Beyond the walls, countless buildings stretched across the riverbanks.
Markets filled the streets.
Merchants advertised medicinal pills, spiritual herbs, talismans, and low-grade magical artifacts.
Ordinary mortals moved among cultivators, their lives continuing beneath the influence of powers they could barely comprehend.
Ye Wuchen entered through the eastern gate.
He examined the surrounding architecture.
Nothing particularly impressive.
The formations protecting the city were rudimentary.
Its spiritual energy gathering arrays were inefficient.
Even the strongest cultivators he could sense within the settlement were far below the standards of his era.
Nevertheless, the city possessed something the Immortal Tomb lacked.
Information.
People.
Records.
And traces of the civilization that had emerged during his slumber.
Lin Qingyue noticed his interest.
"Is this your first time visiting Qinghe City?"
"Yes."
"Then perhaps you'd like to visit the cultivation market?"
Ye Wuchen shook his head.
"Is there a place that sells historical records?"
Lin Qingyue considered the question.
"The city has several bookstores. The largest belongs to the Scholar's Pavilion."
"Take me there."
She nodded.
"Of course."
The Book That Should Not Exist
The Scholar's Pavilion stood near the northern district.
It was a three-story wooden building with shelves containing thousands of books.
Most were ordinary texts.
Historical records.
Geographical surveys.
Biographies of famous cultivators.
Collections of ancient legends.
Ye Wuchen entered quietly.
An elderly shopkeeper sat behind the counter, reading a worn manuscript.
He looked up.
"Welcome. What are you searching for?"
"History."
The old man smiled.
"We have plenty."
"Your oldest records."
The shopkeeper's expression became thoughtful.
"How old?"
"As old as possible."
The old man laughed.
"Young cultivators usually ask for martial techniques or alchemy manuals. It's rare to find someone interested in ancient history."
Ye Wuchen did not respond.
The shopkeeper led him toward the back of the store.
Several shelves contained books describing the Great Yan Dynasty's founding.
Others recorded the Seven Kingdoms Era.
A few discussed ancient ruins discovered throughout the Eastern Desolation.
Ye Wuchen examined them one by one.
Most contained little useful information.
Their historical scope was too limited.
Their accounts were frequently contradictory.
Some records treated legends as facts.
Others dismissed events that had almost certainly occurred.
Nevertheless, he continued reading.
Occasionally, he found references to civilizations older than the Great Yan Dynasty.
Most were little more than names.
The Ancient River Kingdom.
The Fallen Star Dynasty.
The Nine Mountain Alliance.
None were familiar.
Then he noticed a small book resting beneath a pile of damaged manuscripts.
Its cover was dark brown.
The title had nearly faded.
Fragments of the Forgotten Ages.
Ye Wuchen picked it up.
The pages were yellowed.
Several had been damaged by moisture.
He opened the book.
The first section described a civilization that supposedly existed before the earliest recorded dynasties of the Eastern Desolation.
According to the author, its people had constructed enormous stone monuments throughout the region.
Their language remained undeciphered.
Their cities had vanished.
And their surviving artifacts contained a peculiar symbol.
Ye Wuchen turned the page.
His eyes stopped.
There, drawn in faded black ink, was a circle divided by a vertical line.
The same symbol.
The one engraved beneath the scriptures of the Immortal Tomb.
The one hidden beneath the mysterious inscription.
Ye Wuchen examined the illustration.
Then turned to the next page.
It was missing.
Not damaged.
Not worn away.
Deliberately removed.
He examined the binding.
The torn edges were relatively recent.
Someone had taken the page long after the book was written.
Ye Wuchen closed the manuscript.
"Shopkeeper."
The old man approached.
"Have you found something?"
"Where did you obtain this book?"
The shopkeeper examined the cover.
"Ah, that old thing."
He scratched his beard.
"An unusual traveler sold it to me several years ago."
"What kind of traveler?"
"An old man. Rather poorly dressed."
"Did he say where he found it?"
"No."
The shopkeeper paused.
"Though I remember he insisted that I keep the book rather than discard it."
Ye Wuchen looked at him.
"Why?"
"He said someone might come looking for it someday."
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"That's strange."
The shopkeeper nodded.
"I thought so too."
Ye Wuchen opened the book again.
He examined the missing page.
"Did the book already look like this when you received it?"
The old man shook his head.
"No. The missing page was still there."
Ye Wuchen raised his eyes.
"What happened to it?"
The shopkeeper hesitated.
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"One morning, I discovered that the page had disappeared. The shop was locked, and nothing else was missing."
Lin Qingyue looked toward the book.
"Could someone have entered using a concealment technique?"
"Perhaps."
The shopkeeper sighed.
"But why steal a single page from an old historical manuscript?"
Ye Wuchen remained silent.
He looked at the symbol again.
The pattern was identical to the one within the Immortal Tomb.
But the book itself was relatively recent.
Someone in this Lower Realm had discovered traces of the same mysterious civilization.
And someone else had removed the page containing further information.
"Where is the traveler now?" Ye Wuchen asked.
The shopkeeper shrugged.
"I hadn't seen him for years."
He paused.
"Until yesterday."
Ye Wuchen looked up.
"He returned?"
"Yes."
The old man nodded.
"Strangely enough, he asked whether anyone had shown interest in this very book."
Lin Qingyue's expression changed.
"What did you tell him?"
"That no one had."
"Where did he go?"
The shopkeeper pointed toward the street.
"He usually sits near the old stone bridge."
Ye Wuchen closed the book.
"How much?"
The shopkeeper blinked.
"For the book?"
"Yes."
"Three copper coins."
Ye Wuchen looked toward Lin Qingyue.
She immediately understood.
After paying the shopkeeper, she followed him outside.
The Man Beneath the Bridge
The northern district was quieter than the bustling markets near the city gates.
An old stone bridge crossed a narrow canal.
Several willow trees grew beside the water.
Merchants occasionally passed through the area, but most travelers preferred the wider roads farther south.
Ye Wuchen approached the bridge.
Lin Qingyue walked beside him.
"Do you think the traveler knows something about the Immortal Tomb?"
"Possibly."
"Then why would he leave the book in an ordinary shop?"
Ye Wuchen glanced at the manuscript in his hand.
"Perhaps he wanted someone to find it."
"Someone?"
Ye Wuchen did not answer.
They reached the bridge.
Several people sat beneath the willow trees.
An old fisherman repaired his net.
A merchant rested beside a cart.
And near the bridge's northern pillar sat an elderly beggar.
His clothes were worn.
His hair was unkempt.
A cracked wooden bowl rested beside his feet.
He appeared to be sleeping.
Lin Qingyue looked toward him.
"Could that be the traveler?"
Ye Wuchen stopped.
His gaze rested upon the old man.
There was nothing unusual about his cultivation.
No spiritual energy.
No hidden aura.
No trace of a powerful technique.
He appeared to be an ordinary mortal approaching the end of his life.
Yet something caught Ye Wuchen's attention.
Around the beggar's neck hung a small pendant.
It was made from a dull gray material.
Its surface contained a familiar marking.
A circle.
A vertical line.
And beneath them...
One additional stroke.
The same variation he had discovered beneath the mysterious inscription.
Ye Wuchen's silver eyes narrowed slightly.
The old beggar suddenly stirred.
His eyelids trembled.
Then he opened his eyes.
For a moment, he looked toward Lin Qingyue.
Then his gaze shifted toward Ye Wuchen.
The old man's expression changed.
His body stiffened.
The wooden bowl slipped from his fingers.
It struck the stone pavement with a sharp clatter.
Several copper coins scattered across the ground.
The beggar did not notice.
He stared at Ye Wuchen.
More precisely, he stared at his eyes.
Those calm silver eyes.
The old man's lips began to tremble.
"You..."
His voice was barely audible.
Ye Wuchen remained silent.
The beggar slowly rose to his feet.
His breathing became uneven.
For a moment, he seemed unable to decide whether to approach or retreat.
Then he whispered:
"Why..."
His gaze remained fixed upon Ye Wuchen's face.
"Why do you have his eyes?"
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"Old sir, do you know Fellow Daoist Ye?"
The beggar did not answer.
He took one unsteady step backward.
Then another.
His expression was filled with disbelief.
"No..."
He shook his head.
"That shouldn't be possible."
Ye Wuchen examined him calmly.
The old man's cultivation was nonexistent.
His body showed no signs of extraordinary longevity.
Yet the pendant around his neck was unmistakable.
It belonged to the same mysterious system of symbols found within the Immortal Tomb.
And the beggar had recognized something about him.
Not his name.
Not his cultivation.
His eyes.
Ye Wuchen finally spoke.
"Who are you?"
The old man opened his mouth.
But no words emerged.
His gaze shifted toward the book in Ye Wuchen's hand.
Then toward the silver eyes above it.
His expression changed again.
This time, something resembling fear appeared.
Not fear of Ye Wuchen himself.
Fear of what his presence might mean.
The beggar whispered:
"You shouldn't be here."
Ye Wuchen remained expressionless.
"Why?"
The old man looked toward the sky.
Then he spoke so quietly that even Lin Qingyue struggled to hear him.
"Because..."
His hands tightened around the pendant.
"...if you have returned..."
He stopped.
Ye Wuchen waited.
The old man lowered his gaze.
And spoke a sentence that made the surrounding air seem strangely still.
"Then the last thing keeping them asleep is already gone."
Ye Wuchen's expression did not change.
But deep within his consciousness, the system suddenly activated.
[Warning.]
[Unknown historical reference detected.]
[Attempting correlation with missing records...]
[Correlation failed.]
[Potential connection to Blank Era identified.]
Ye Wuchen looked at the old beggar.
For the first time since leaving the Immortal Tomb, he had encountered someone who appeared to possess information about the missing years.
Someone connected to the mysterious symbol.
Someone who recognized his eyes.
And someone who feared the consequences of his awakening.
Ye Wuchen closed the book.
His voice remained calm.
"Explain."
The old beggar stared at him.
Then slowly shook his head.
"I cannot."
Ye Wuchen tilted his head slightly.
"Cannot?"
The old man swallowed.
"If I speak of them..."
His voice trembled.
"...they will know."
Above Qinghe City, the afternoon sky remained perfectly clear.
The sun shone peacefully.
The river flowed beneath the bridge.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Yet far beyond the Lower Realm, somewhere within the countless heavens, an ancient mechanism stirred.
A dark surface illuminated.
One line of information appeared.
[Secondary witness located.]
A second line followed.
[Recognition event confirmed.]
Then a third.
[Observation protocol initiated.]
And beneath the bridge, the old beggar suddenly looked upward.
His face turned pale.
"They're watching."
End of Chapter 4