Chapter 6: The Ruins That History Forgot
The following morning, Qinghe City awoke beneath a pale golden sky.
Merchants opened their shops. Cultivators gathered at the eastern market to exchange spirit stones and medicinal herbs. The city guards changed shifts, and the bells of the Great Yan administrative hall echoed across the river.
Everything appeared ordinary.
Yet in an abandoned tea house near the western canal, an old scholar sat before a table, staring at a small gray pendant.
He had not slept.
Mu Cang had spent most of the night wondering whether he had made a terrible mistake.
For decades, he had searched for traces of a forgotten past.
He had crossed mountains, explored ruins, copied inscriptions, and questioned countless people.
He had endured ridicule from scholars who considered his research meaningless.
He had watched records disappear.
He had seen familiar places become unfamiliar.
And he had learned that some questions were dangerous simply because they were asked.
Eventually, he had stopped searching openly.
He became a beggar.
An old man beneath a bridge.
Someone no one would notice.
But yesterday, a black-robed young man had appeared before him.
Long black hair.
A calm expression.
Silver eyes.
The same eyes he had seen in an ancient image many years ago.
Mu Cang lowered his head.
"Why did you have to appear now?"
The pendant remained silent.
Outside, footsteps approached.
The old scholar stiffened.
A moment later, the door opened.
Ye Wuchen entered.
Behind him walked Lin Qingyue.
Mu Cang looked at them.
"You came."
Ye Wuchen glanced at the old man's exhausted appearance.
"You haven't slept."
Mu Cang gave a bitter smile.
"Some memories make sleep difficult."
Ye Wuchen did not comment.
He walked toward the table and placed an old map upon it.
"Where is the ruin?"
Mu Cang stared at the map.
For several moments, he remained silent.
Then he extended a trembling finger toward a mountainous region north of Qinghe City.
"Here."
Lin Qingyue leaned forward.
"The Northern Wastelands?"
Mu Cang nodded.
"Beyond the abandoned mining settlements. There is a mountain valley that doesn't appear on most modern maps."
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"That region is dangerous. Spiritual beasts have been appearing there more frequently."
Ye Wuchen looked at the marked location.
"How far?"
"Three days by ordinary carriage," Mu Cang replied. "Perhaps less if we travel with cultivators."
Ye Wuchen folded the map.
"Then we leave today."
Mu Cang hesitated.
"Young man..."
Ye Wuchen looked at him.
"Yes?"
"Before we go, there is something you should understand."
The old scholar's expression became serious.
"The place we're searching for may no longer exist."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"Then we'll confirm that."
Mu Cang stared at him.
"You're not concerned?"
"About what?"
"Traveling so far for something that might not be there."
Ye Wuchen considered the question.
Then answered calmly.
"If it exists, we'll find it."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then we'll find out why."
Mu Cang fell silent.
For some reason, that simple answer made him feel slightly less afraid.
The Northern Road
They departed Qinghe City shortly after sunrise.
Lin Qingyue arranged for a small traveling carriage drawn by two low-grade spiritual horses.
The animals were faster than ordinary horses and capable of traveling for long periods without rest.
Mu Cang sat inside the carriage, holding his pendant.
Lin Qingyue occasionally guided the horses along the mountain roads.
Ye Wuchen preferred walking.
Despite making no visible effort, he remained beside the carriage regardless of its speed.
At first, Lin Qingyue found this unusual.
But whenever she looked closely, his movements appeared completely ordinary.
No movement technique.
No spiritual energy.
No unusual fluctuations.
He simply walked.
Eventually, she stopped trying to understand.
The road gradually became narrower.
Cultivated fields gave way to forests.
Villages became less frequent.
By midday, the group had entered the outer territories of the Northern Wastelands.
Mu Cang watched the passing scenery.
After several hours, he spoke.
"This road used to be different."
Lin Qingyue glanced back.
"Different?"
"There was an old watchtower near the southern crossing."
He pointed toward a distant hillside.
"And a stone bridge beyond it."
Lin Qingyue looked in the indicated direction.
There was nothing but trees.
"Perhaps they were demolished."
Mu Cang shook his head.
"The bridge was built from black stone. It had stood for hundreds of years."
"Then perhaps it collapsed."
"Perhaps."
But his expression suggested he did not believe it.
Ye Wuchen looked toward the hillside.
He could see traces of an old foundation beneath the soil.
A structure had once stood there.
Whether it was the watchtower Mu Cang remembered was impossible to determine.
"How long ago did you travel this road?" Ye Wuchen asked.
Mu Cang thought for a moment.
"More than forty years."
"Alone?"
The old scholar's fingers tightened around his pendant.
"No."
Lin Qingyue turned toward him.
"Who accompanied you?"
Mu Cang looked out the window.
"Other scholars."
"From where?"
He did not answer.
Ye Wuchen noticed his silence.
But he did not press further.
After a while, Mu Cang spoke again.
"They were good people."
His voice was quiet.
"Most of them had no cultivation. We weren't searching for treasures or immortal inheritances."
"What were you searching for?" Lin Qingyue asked.
Mu Cang looked toward the distant mountains.
"Proof."
"Of what?"
"That the world was older than the histories we were taught."
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"Of course the world is older than recorded history."
Mu Cang nodded.
"Yes."
Then he added:
"But what if the records themselves are wrong?"
No one answered.
The carriage continued north.
A Village Out of Time
By late afternoon, they reached a small settlement surrounded by low hills.
The village consisted of several dozen wooden houses built around a central square.
A narrow stream passed through its eastern side.
At the center stood an old stone well.
Children played near the entrance.
Farmers returned from their fields.
Smoke rose from kitchen chimneys.
Mu Cang looked out of the carriage.
Then suddenly sat upright.
"Stop."
Lin Qingyue pulled the reins.
The carriage slowed.
"What happened?"
Mu Cang stared at the village.
His expression had changed completely.
"I know this place."
Ye Wuchen looked toward the settlement.
"Have you been here before?"
"Yes."
Mu Cang stepped down from the carriage.
His gaze moved across the houses.
"The eastern road..."
He pointed toward a narrow path.
"The old willow tree..."
His eyes settled upon a large tree beside the village square.
"And the well."
He began walking.
Lin Qingyue followed.
"Old sir?"
Mu Cang did not respond.
He approached the well and placed one hand against its stone rim.
His fingers trembled.
"It's the same."
Ye Wuchen stood beside him.
"What is?"
"Everything."
Mu Cang looked around.
"The houses. The roads. Even the position of the trees."
Lin Qingyue examined the village.
"Perhaps it hasn't changed much."
Mu Cang shook his head.
"You don't understand."
He pointed toward a wooden house near the square.
"That building had a damaged roof when I visited."
The roof indeed contained a section of darker wooden tiles.
"And that wall..."
He turned toward another house.
"There was a crack running from the window to the foundation."
A narrow crack remained visible.
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"How long ago did you visit?"
Mu Cang swallowed.
"Forty-three years."
The village fell strangely quiet.
Ye Wuchen examined the buildings.
A settlement remaining largely unchanged for forty-three years was unusual, but not impossible.
Especially in an isolated region.
However, Mu Cang's reaction suggested something more.
"Let's ask someone," Ye Wuchen said.
Thirty Years
An elderly villager sat beneath the willow tree, repairing a farming tool.
His hair was white.
His face was deeply wrinkled.
When Lin Qingyue approached, he looked up.
"Travelers?"
She smiled politely.
"Greetings, elder. May we ask you a few questions?"
The old villager nodded.
"Of course."
Mu Cang stepped forward.
"How long has this village existed?"
The elder looked surprised.
"How long?"
"Yes."
The villager scratched his beard.
"Thirty years, perhaps."
Mu Cang froze.
"Thirty?"
"Something like that."
"Are you certain?"
The villager laughed.
"Of course. I helped build some of these houses."
Mu Cang stared at him.
"That cannot be."
The old man frowned.
"Why not?"
"I visited this village forty-three years ago."
The villager's expression became confused.
"Impossible."
Mu Cang pointed toward the well.
"I remember drawing water from that well."
He turned toward the eastern houses.
"I remember staying with a family there."
His voice became increasingly urgent.
"There was an old woman who sold steamed buns beside the road. Her husband repaired farming tools. Their daughter—"
He stopped.
The villager looked at him strangely.
"Old sir, perhaps you've mistaken our village for another."
Mu Cang shook his head.
"No."
His voice trembled.
"I remember."
The elder sighed.
"Well, memories can become confused with age."
He returned to repairing his tool.
Mu Cang remained motionless.
Lin Qingyue looked uncomfortable.
She turned toward Ye Wuchen.
"What do you think?"
Ye Wuchen examined the village.
Then the well.
"Something is unusual."
Mu Cang looked toward him.
"You believe me?"
"I haven't said that."
The old scholar's expression fell.
Ye Wuchen continued.
"But I haven't found a reason to disbelieve you either."
He approached the well.
Its stone rim was weathered.
Several cracks ran across the surface.
Ordinary moss grew between the stones.
Nothing appeared extraordinary.
Yet beneath the well, Ye Wuchen noticed something.
He extended his perception downward.
Several meters beneath the well rested a flat stone marker.
Its surface contained an ancient inscription.
And at its center...
A circle divided by a vertical line.
Ye Wuchen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Interesting."
The Stone Beneath the Well
"Fellow Daoist Ye?"
Lin Qingyue approached.
Ye Wuchen pointed toward the well.
"There's something beneath it."
She looked down.
"Water?"
"Deeper."
Lin Qingyue released a strand of spiritual sense.
It passed through the well and entered the surrounding earth.
At first, she detected nothing.
Then she noticed a faint obstruction.
Her expression changed.
"There's a stone slab."
Ye Wuchen nodded.
"Can you retrieve it?"
Lin Qingyue hesitated.
"Without damaging the well?"
"Preferably."
She considered the problem.
Then retrieved several small formation flags.
After arranging them around the well, she activated a simple earth-moving technique.
The ground trembled gently.
A narrow section of soil shifted.
Moments later, a dark stone marker emerged from beneath the earth.
The elderly villager watched in astonishment.
Several nearby farmers gathered around.
Lin Qingyue placed the marker upon the ground.
It was roughly the length of an adult's arm.
Its surface was worn.
Most of its inscriptions had become unreadable.
But the central symbol remained intact.
Mu Cang saw it.
His face turned pale.
"That mark..."
Ye Wuchen crouched beside the stone.
"Have you seen it before?"
Mu Cang touched the pendant beneath his robes.
"Yes."
Lin Qingyue looked between them.
"Is it the same symbol?"
"Almost," Ye Wuchen replied.
He examined the stone.
The circle and vertical line were present.
But the additional stroke was missing.
He looked at the surrounding inscriptions.
They belonged to a writing system he did not recognize.
Not the language from his ancient courtyard.
Not the script used in the Immortal Tomb's hidden message.
Something else.
"System."
[Yes, Host.]
"Analyze the stone."
[Analyzing...]
A faint blue panel appeared within his consciousness.
[Material classification: Partially recognized.]
[Geological origin: Inconsistent with surrounding terrain.]
[Estimated age: Uncertain.]
[Historical correlation: Unavailable.]
Ye Wuchen examined the marker more carefully.
Its material was unusual.
The surrounding mountains consisted primarily of ordinary sedimentary rock.
But this marker contained mineral structures typically formed under entirely different conditions.
It did not belong here.
At least, not naturally.
"Was it transported?" Ye Wuchen asked silently.
[Possible.]
"Could the surrounding terrain have changed?"
[Possible.]
"Which explanation is more likely?"
[Insufficient information.]
Ye Wuchen nodded.
There was no point forcing a conclusion.
He stood.
Mu Cang was staring at the marker.
"Old sir," Lin Qingyue asked, "did you see this symbol when you visited the village before?"
Mu Cang shook his head.
"No."
"Then perhaps it's unrelated."
The scholar did not answer.
Ye Wuchen looked toward the villagers.
"Who built the well?"
The elderly farmer scratched his head.
"It was already here when we settled."
Mu Cang turned sharply.
"What?"
The villager looked confused.
"The well. It was here before the village."
"But you said the village was founded thirty years ago."
"Yes."
"Then who built the well?"
The old man hesitated.
"I don't know."
Mu Cang looked toward Ye Wuchen.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Ye Wuchen asked the villager another question.
"Who lived here before you?"
The elderly farmer opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
His brows furrowed.
"I..."
He looked toward the houses.
Then toward the surrounding hills.
"I don't remember."
Lin Qingyue frowned.
"You don't remember?"
The villager seemed embarrassed.
"Perhaps there were some abandoned houses."
He scratched his head.
"Or perhaps we built everything ourselves."
Mu Cang's face grew increasingly pale.
Ye Wuchen watched the old man carefully.
The villager did not appear to be lying.
He genuinely seemed uncertain.
And that was far more interesting.
The Broken Formation
They remained in the village until evening.
Lin Qingyue questioned several residents.
Their answers were inconsistent.
Some claimed the village had existed for thirty years.
Others believed it was closer to twenty.
A few elderly villagers insisted their families had lived there for generations.
Yet none could explain the contradictions.
Mu Cang grew increasingly quiet.
Ye Wuchen spent most of the afternoon examining the stone marker.
He discovered no active formation within it.
No spiritual energy.
No obvious mechanism.
It was simply an ancient stone bearing a mysterious symbol.
Nevertheless, its presence suggested that the village's history was more complicated than its residents believed.
As the sun approached the horizon, a bell suddenly rang from the village entrance.
A young guard shouted:
"Spiritual beast!"
Several villagers rushed toward their homes.
Lin Qingyue stood immediately.
"What happened?"
A farmer pointed toward the northern forest.
"A beast crossed the boundary!"
Beyond the village's protective fence, a large wolf-like creature emerged from the trees.
Its dark fur shimmered with faint spiritual energy.
A pair of curved horns protruded from its forehead.
Lin Qingyue recognized it.
"A Blackhorn Wolf."
The creature was not particularly powerful by the standards of major cultivation sects.
But it was dangerous to ordinary mortals.
The village possessed a simple protective formation intended to repel such beasts.
Unfortunately, the formation was malfunctioning.
Several of its stone pillars had cracked.
The spiritual energy flowing between them was unstable.
Lin Qingyue drew her sword.
"Everyone, stay back!"
The wolf approached the village boundary.
A faint barrier flickered.
Then weakened.
Lin Qingyue prepared to intervene.
But before she could move, Ye Wuchen stepped toward one of the formation pillars.
He examined the arrangement.
"Poorly constructed."
Lin Qingyue glanced at him.
"Fellow Daoist Ye, please move away!"
Ye Wuchen ignored the warning.
He crouched beside the pillar.
A small stone had shifted out of position.
He moved it slightly.
Nothing more.
The formation trembled.
Then the spiritual energy circulating through the pillars suddenly stabilized.
A pale barrier appeared around the village.
The Blackhorn Wolf stopped.
It stared at the barrier for several moments.
Then turned and disappeared into the forest.
Lin Qingyue lowered her sword.
Her expression was puzzled.
"The formation repaired itself?"
Several villagers cheered.
Their immediate danger had passed.
Mu Cang, however, had been watching Ye Wuchen.
He had seen the young man move the stone.
Just one stone.
No spiritual energy.
No incantation.
No formation flags.
Yet the entire protective array had stabilized.
The old scholar stared at him.
Ye Wuchen stood and brushed a little dust from his sleeve.
Mu Cang hesitated.
"Young man..."
Ye Wuchen looked toward him.
"Yes?"
"Did you..."
The scholar stopped.
He looked at the repaired formation.
Then back at Ye Wuchen.
Finally, he shook his head.
"Nothing."
Ye Wuchen did not press him.
The Mountain That Was Wrong
They left the village the following morning.
The road became increasingly difficult.
Forests gave way to rocky hills.
The spiritual energy grew thinner.
By midday, they reached the outer edge of a desolate mountain range.
Mu Cang guided them through a narrow valley.
His steps became slower.
He examined every rock formation.
Every bend in the path.
Every distant peak.
Finally, he stopped.
"This is it."
Lin Qingyue looked around.
Before them stood an ordinary mountainside.
Sparse grass grew between the rocks.
Several small trees clung to the slope.
There were no buildings.
No ancient ruins.
No entrance.
Nothing.
"Are you certain?" she asked.
Mu Cang nodded.
"Absolutely."
He pointed toward the mountainside.
"There was a ruined temple here."
Lin Qingyue looked in the indicated direction.
Only stone.
"Behind it was a staircase descending underground."
Mu Cang approached the slope.
His breathing quickened.
"The entrance was here."
He placed his hands against the rock.
"Right here."
Nothing happened.
He began searching.
Moving stones.
Examining cracks.
Looking beneath the sparse vegetation.
But the entrance was gone.
Lin Qingyue released her spiritual sense.
She examined the entire mountainside.
No hidden chambers.
No active formations.
No unusual spiritual fluctuations.
After several minutes, she shook her head.
"I can't find anything."
Mu Cang's expression became desperate.
"No."
He continued searching.
"It was here."
Lin Qingyue approached gently.
"Old sir..."
"I remember every step."
His voice trembled.
"There were thirty-seven stairs."
He pointed toward the slope.
"Seven cracked pillars near the entrance."
His hands tightened.
"And a stone statue without a face."
Ye Wuchen stood several meters away.
He examined the mountain.
Its surface appeared ordinary.
The geological structure was consistent.
The spiritual energy was undisturbed.
Even the surrounding spatial laws appeared stable.
At first glance, there was nothing unusual.
He had spent countless years studying the fundamental principles of existence.
To him, formations were not merely arrangements of spiritual energy.
They were expressions of relationships between matter, space, and law.
And something about the mountainside was subtly incorrect.
A particular stone rested at an angle that did not match the surrounding terrain.
The discrepancy was tiny.
Almost meaningless.
Yet the surrounding spatial structure seemed to accommodate that stone rather than the other way around.
Ye Wuchen approached.
Mu Cang looked toward him.
"Do you believe me?"
Ye Wuchen examined the rock face.
"Are you certain this is the place?"
Mu Cang nodded firmly.
"I remember every step."
Ye Wuchen looked toward the mountain.
"Then perhaps the mountain is wrong."
Lin Qingyue blinked.
"The mountain?"
Ye Wuchen crouched.
He placed one hand upon the oddly positioned stone.
Then moved it.
Only a little.
A faint sound echoed through the valley.
Click.
The surrounding air rippled.
Lin Qingyue stepped backward.
"What—"
The mountainside shimmered.
For an instant, the rocks appeared to overlap with another landscape.
A ruined temple.
Broken pillars.
An ancient staircase.
Then the illusion vanished.
And a narrow doorway appeared within the mountain.
Mu Cang froze.
His eyes widened.
"It's here..."
His voice trembled.
"It's really here."
Lin Qingyue stared at the entrance.
She had examined the mountainside with spiritual sense.
Yet she had detected nothing.
Not even the slightest trace of a concealment formation.
"How did you find it?"
Ye Wuchen looked at the displaced stone.
"The arrangement was incorrect."
Lin Qingyue stared at him.
"That's all?"
"Yes."
She fell silent.
Mu Cang slowly approached the doorway.
His face was filled with disbelief.
The entrance was exactly as he remembered.
The weathered stone frame.
The narrow passage.
The broken carvings.
Everything.
Except...
He looked down.
The staircase descended into darkness.
He counted the visible steps.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
He continued.
Then stopped.
"That's impossible."
Ye Wuchen looked toward him.
"What is?"
Mu Cang pointed into the darkness.
"There were thirty-seven steps."
Lin Qingyue examined the staircase.
It continued far beyond the reach of ordinary sight.
"Perhaps you remembered incorrectly."
Mu Cang shook his head.
"No."
He looked toward Ye Wuchen.
"I counted them every time we entered."
His voice became quieter.
"Thirty-seven steps."
Ye Wuchen looked into the darkness.
The staircase extended far deeper than the mountain should have allowed.
Interesting.
He approached the doorway.
Then stopped.
An inscription was carved above the entrance.
Its characters were ancient.
Weathered.
Almost completely erased.
Lin Qingyue examined them.
"I can't read this."
Mu Cang shook his head.
"Neither can I."
Ye Wuchen looked upward.
The language was unfamiliar to the current cultivation world.
But he could understand it.
The inscription contained a warning.
THOSE WHO ENTER SHALL BE REMEMBERED BY NONE.
Ye Wuchen read the words silently.
Then he noticed something beneath them.
A second inscription.
Much smaller.
Almost completely concealed by the weathered stone.
Its characters belonged to a language he recognized.
A language from his own era.
Ye Wuchen's silver eyes narrowed.
He stepped closer.
The second inscription contained only four words.
YOU HAVE BEEN HERE.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Mu Cang looked toward him.
"Young man?"
Ye Wuchen did not respond.
He examined the inscription again.
The language was genuine.
The characters were old.
And the message appeared to have been written for someone capable of understanding it.
"System."
[Yes, Host.]
"Have I ever visited this location?"
[Searching available historical records...]
A brief pause followed.
[No matching location found.]
"Any records of this structure?"
[None.]
"Any evidence that I entered it before my slumber?"
[No such event recorded.]
Ye Wuchen remained silent.
Then he asked another question.
"Can you determine when this inscription was written?"
[Analyzing...]
[Temporal classification unavailable.]
[Insufficient historical reference data.]
Ye Wuchen looked at the four words.
You have been here.
He had no memory of this mountain.
No memory of the ruined temple.
No memory of descending these stairs.
Yet someone had left a message in a language from his distant past.
A message apparently intended for him.
He considered several possibilities.
Perhaps the inscription referred to someone else.
Perhaps it was a deliberate deception.
Perhaps the location had once existed elsewhere.
Or perhaps there was something about his own past that he had not yet understood.
He did not know.
And that uncertainty was becoming increasingly interesting.
The Thirty-Eighth Step
Mu Cang stood beside the entrance.
His face remained pale.
"Are we going inside?"
Lin Qingyue looked toward the dark staircase.
"We should be careful."
Ye Wuchen examined the passage.
No spiritual energy emerged from within.
No hostile aura.
No obvious formation.
Yet the spatial structure was unusual.
The staircase appeared to descend farther than the surrounding mountain could physically contain.
He took one step forward.
Then another.
Mu Cang followed hesitantly.
Lin Qingyue remained close behind.
The air became cooler.
The daylight faded.
Their footsteps echoed against the ancient stone.
Mu Cang began counting.
"One..."
They descended.
"Two..."
The staircase continued.
"Three..."
The old scholar's voice trembled.
Ye Wuchen walked calmly.
He did not need light.
Even without using his cultivation, the darkness presented no obstacle to his perception.
Lin Qingyue summoned a small luminous talisman.
Pale blue light illuminated the passage.
The walls were covered in weathered inscriptions.
Most were unreadable.
Some had been deliberately scratched away.
Others appeared unfinished.
Mu Cang continued counting.
"Thirty-four..."
His breathing quickened.
"Thirty-five..."
Lin Qingyue looked toward him.
"Old sir?"
"Thirty-six..."
Mu Cang stopped.
Before them lay another step.
The thirty-seventh.
He stared at it.
"This was where it ended."
Ye Wuchen looked ahead.
The staircase continued downward.
Far beyond the thirty-seventh step.
Mu Cang slowly raised his head.
"There was a chamber here."
His voice trembled.
"A stone door."
He looked toward the darkness.
"But now..."
Ye Wuchen stepped onto the thirty-seventh stair.
Nothing happened.
Then he looked at the next step.
The thirty-eighth.
Its surface was darker than the others.
A faint marking had been carved into the center.
A circle.
A vertical line.
And beneath them...
A third stroke.
Ye Wuchen stopped.
Lin Qingyue noticed.
"What is it?"
He examined the symbol.
It was identical to the one on Mu Cang's pendant.
And the hidden inscription within the Immortal Tomb.
The same variation.
The same additional mark.
Ye Wuchen crouched.
He extended one finger toward the stone.
Before he touched it, the system suddenly activated.
[Warning.]
[Unidentified structural anomaly detected.]
[Historical correlation unavailable.]
[Proceed with caution.]
Ye Wuchen looked at the notification.
Then at the thirty-eighth step.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"How troublesome."
He placed his foot upon the stone.
For an instant, nothing happened.
Then the surrounding darkness changed.
The staircase remained.
The walls remained.
But the sound of their footsteps disappeared.
The luminous talisman in Lin Qingyue's hand flickered.
Mu Cang froze.
And somewhere beyond the visible passage, a single bell rang.
Dong.
The sound was ancient.
Deep.
And strangely familiar.
Ye Wuchen raised his eyes.
At the far end of the darkness, something began to illuminate.
Not a treasure.
Not a formation.
A line of writing.
Its characters appeared one by one.
[VISITOR RECOGNIZED.]
A pause.
Then another line.
[PREVIOUS ENTRY RECORD FOUND.]
Ye Wuchen's expression remained calm.
But the system within his consciousness was silent.
A third line appeared.
[WELCOME BACK.]
And beneath it, a final message emerged.
[YOUR FIRST VISIT HAS NOT YET OCCURRED.]
Ye Wuchen stared at the words.
Then he laughed softly.
Not because he understood.
But because, for the first time since awakening, he had encountered something that seemed to contradict the order of time itself.
"Interesting."
The darkness ahead slowly opened.
And the staircase descended into a place that should not have existed.
End of Chapter 6