Without any resistance, as if breaking through a layer of water, Mu Yun's figure vanished into it in an instant.
In a daze, he had already stepped into a completely different world.
It was a vast square, crowded with people moving to and fro, bustling with activity.
Looking around, the ground was paved neatly with bluish stone slabs, mottled and worn, as if carrying the passage of countless years. At the four corners of the square stood four towering stone pillars, each carved with a different mythical beast. The beasts were so lifelike that they seemed ready to leap out of the pillars at any moment and shatter the sky.
Mu Yun took a deep breath and set his gaze on a pavilion not far away. The pavilion rose high, grand and ancient. Hanging above it was a black plaque on which three bold characters were deeply carved: Jubao Pavilion.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His eyes flickered, and he quickened his pace, walking forward.
The entrance to the Jubao Pavilion was extremely wide, divided into four bluish stone archways beneath the main gate. Unlike the heavily guarded entrances of major powers, there were no martial artists on guard here—only a white-haired old man sitting on a wooden chair, leaning against the bluish stone wall, his eyes half-closed as if dozing.
Mu Yun's steps paused briefly. He glanced at the old man without lingering, then followed the crowd into one of the archways.
After Mu Yun's figure had completely disappeared, the old man's eyelids twitched slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.
"Qi Refining…"
His voice was low, carrying an inexplicable meaning as he slowly uttered these two words. Then he closed his eyes again, as if he had never woken.
…
Entering the Jubao Pavilion, Mu Yun's gaze shifted as he looked around.
Inside, the pavilion was brightly lit and immensely wide, like an independent world. It was filled with the splendor of jewels and rare treasures, extraordinarily magnificent. Many people in luxurious clothing moved through the space, some stopping to gaze, others speaking in low voices. On the counters, gold, silver, and jewelry sparkled brilliantly, dazzling the eye.
Mu Yun withdrew his gaze, his expression calm, and walked forward slowly.
Before long, he frowned slightly, thinking to himself: These items are all rare and precious, enough to make ordinary people flock to them, but for a martial artist like me, they are of no benefit. Is the Jubao Pavilion really just a place for such mundane things?
He pondered for a moment, then another guess arose in his mind: Or perhaps, because I have not yet set foot on the path of cultivation, all I can see are these worldly objects?
With that thought, he shook his head and turned to leave the pavilion. But as he took a step, he suddenly remembered what Old Man Zhu had once said: "If you enter the Jubao Pavilion, look for a man named Huang Zhuo." Since he had already obtained all the items he was looking for, perhaps he should take this opportunity to meet this man and gather some information.
But then he recalled Brother Yumo's warning: "Do not lightly inquire about the Jubao Pavilion." As a cultivator with unfathomable strength, Yumo's words carried deep meaning. Acting carelessly might invite unnecessary trouble. With a sigh, he suppressed the urge and decided to simply wander around the pavilion like everyone else, so as not to draw attention.
Lost in thought, Mu Yun reached the entrance and saw the old man at the door looking at him. He nodded slightly, clasped his fists in a respectful salute, and was about to leave when a hoarse but meaningful voice reached his ears—
"Young man, the second door on the right might be of some use to you."
Mu Yun paused. He turned to look at the old man, whose deep eyes seemed to hold a knowing smile. Slightly startled, Mu Yun clasped his fists again in thanks, took a deep breath, and walked toward the second door on the right…
After entering, the scene before him changed completely. This was a round inner chamber, its space gradually narrowing from bottom to top, divided into four sections.
In each section, countless books floated in mid-air. They were translucent, faintly glowing with a soft white light, with tiny golden characters seeming to drift within them—but when he looked closely, there was nothing.
The chamber was silent, with only six people scattered in different sections, intently reading the books in their hands. Mu Yun's arrival disturbed a few of them; some looked up briefly before turning back to their reading. The others did not even glance away, remaining absorbed.
Mu Yun's gaze swept across the room and soon settled on a floating section of books above which hovered the words "A Brief Account of Immortal Path." His heart stirred, and he quickened his steps, heading straight toward that section.
Just then, a light laugh echoed through the silent chamber, tinged with mockery. The one laughing was a richly dressed young man, his expression one of amusement. Not far from him, a short-haired boy about Mu Yun's age opened his mouth as if to say something, then hesitated and remained silent.
Though the laugh was soft, it was like a stone thrown into a still pond, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. All eyes turned to Mu Yun. But Mu Yun, already captivated by the books in the "Brief Account of Immortal Path" section, paid no attention to his surroundings. His gaze fell on a hand-bound volume with an ancient cover: Records of a Cultivator.
His heart leaped. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed it.
Instantly, the book trembled slightly. A flash of white light appeared, and a phantom image projected from it. Mu Yun's mind jolted, and when he refocused, Records of a Cultivator was firmly in his hand. The pages felt cool to the touch. He eagerly opened the first page, his eyes devouring the words as he immersed himself.
As he turned the pages, a vast flood of information surged into Mu Yun's mind like a tide, shaking him to his core, impossible to resist. Every word, every passage seemed to carry an irresistible allure, making him crave more.
But he did not notice that his face had turned pale, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his entire aura becoming dangerously unstable—like a drowning man clinging desperately to the last piece of driftwood, unwilling to let go.
Seeing this, the others in the chamber shook their heads and sighed, their eyes filled with pity. Clearly, this was not the first time they had witnessed such a scene. The richly dressed young man's mocking smile deepened, his gaze now one of amused anticipation, as if waiting for a foregone conclusion.
The short-haired boy, watching Mu Yun, slowly clenched his fists. Hesitation flickered in his eyes. Finally, he gritted his teeth and walked toward Mu Yun…
Mu Yun, meanwhile, seemed to have fallen into another space.
Here, the sky was clear, the mountains and rivers picturesque. A path paved with bluish stone stretched out before him, flanked by ancient trees whose leaves rustled gently in the breeze. A stream babbled, birds sang ethereally, and a soft wind brushed his face, as if carrying the very spiritual essence of heaven and earth.
Mu Yun's heart trembled. He felt a strange sensation—as if he could rise into the air and dance with the wind.
Something seemed to call out to him, guiding him. He quickened his pace, weaving through the forest. Gradually, a misty haze appeared ahead, and a sheer cliff came into view.
Below the cliff was an abyss so deep he could not see the bottom. Occasionally, howling winds rose from it, like the echoes of the underworld. On the other side of the cliff, shrouded in thick fog, he could vaguely make out vehicles shuttling and tall buildings standing.
It was a view of Earth.
"A dream?!"
Mu Yun stood at the edge of the cliff, staring at the opposite side. His brow furrowed, his mind shaken.
Suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the depths of the cliff. A pitch-black wind, as dark as ink, arose from nowhere and transformed into a madly spiraling vortex. The sky and earth darkened instantly. That black wind seemed capable of devouring everything. Wherever it passed, grass and trees shattered, soil was torn away, and even the mountain began to crumble layer by layer, falling into the black vortex.
Mu Yun's face changed dramatically. His heart filled with terror. He reacted almost instantly, leaping backward, his feet leaving afterimages as he sprinted back the way he came.
In this shaking world of mountains and rivers, everything around him was in chaos, as if heaven and earth were collapsing. Each step he took felt like struggling through a swamp. Gradually, his legs grew as heavy as if filled with lead, and he could no longer move forward.
He turned to look back. The sight before him shook his heart—the world behind him was being swallowed by darkness. Soon, the sky and earth before him became blurry, the surrounding scenes torn apart by an invisible force, leaving only the solitary patch of ground beneath his feet.
Then, inch by inch, the ground beneath him began to crumble. He felt an irresistible force pulling him down into the abyss. Everything went dark, and his body fell straight down.
But just as he fell, a voice sounded in Mu Yun's mind.
"Warning! Mind on the verge of collapse. Life threat level: 100%."
"Hongmeng Creative Neurological System activated."
"Antimatter Combat System activated."
"Nuclear Arc Reactor activated."
At that same moment, the old man dozing at the entrance suddenly snapped his eyes open, a terrifying gleam shooting from them.
"Which fellow Daoist has brought a Heavenly Spiritual Treasure here?!"
Boom! Mu Yun's consciousness returned. Instantly, he issued a command in his mind:
"Shut down all systems!"
The moment all systems shut down, a wave of coldness washed over Mu Yun's entire body, as if he had fallen into an ice cave. The cold lingered on him for a few breaths, then vanished.
"It doesn't seem to be this boy…"
"Hmph! He ran fast enough. But… can he really get away? If not for the approaching event, I would surely hunt him down." The old man withdrew his divine consciousness, a cold smile curling on his withered face.
He closed his eyes again.
"That was close!" Mu Yun wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and slowly exhaled.
This cold feeling is familiar. I felt it before on the Genesis spaceship. Back then, along with the cold, the ship's instruments briefly malfunctioned.
Could this be a method for cultivators to remotely probe things from a distance? Like radar?
Mu Yun pondered, then sat cross-legged and began to regulate his breathing. When he tried to recall the contents of the book, he was horrified to find that he could remember nothing he had read. A chill rose in his heart, and he grew even more wary of this cultivation world.
Before long, Mu Yun felt his mind gradually clear, and he opened his eyes.
"Brother, you're really impressive…" The short-haired boy walked up to him and took the initiative to greet him.
He showed a bright smile, a hint of genuine admiration in his voice. "You actually managed to walk out of the book on your own…"
Mu Yun understood clearly that the boy was referring to him. He smiled slightly and asked, "May I ask what the rules are for reading these books? After reading, I felt dizzy and couldn't remember anything…"
As soon as he spoke, the people around him cast strange glances his way, as if looking at an innocent soul who knew nothing of the world.
The short-haired boy took down a book, flipped through it briefly, then flicked it lightly, and the book flew silently back to its place. He said casually, "Everyone in this pavilion wants to read all the books in this section. But…"
He paused, his gaze sweeping the room with a complex expression, then lowered his voice. "It's just that if your strength isn't sufficient, reading is useless."
Mu Yun was taken aback, his confusion deepening. He couldn't help but ask, "Then what level of strength is needed to read them? And how can these books be purchased?"
The short-haired boy glanced at Mu Yun with a hint of surprise, but then explained, "All the text in these books is condensed from powerful mental power. Ordinary people cannot comprehend it."
"Being able to enter this place means you have at least the strength of Qi Refining," the boy continued, his tone somewhat solemn. "But the minimum requirement for reading these books is Foundation Establishment. If your strength is insufficient and you force yourself to read what you shouldn't, you will suffer backlash."
"Between Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment lies a chasm!"