Han Chen stepped toward the metal opening from which Wang Qi had come. The ladder stretched downward at least ten meters, vanishing into the dim glow below. He gripped the side rails and began his descent, the clang of metal echoing with each controlled movement.
When his feet touched the ground, the air shifted. The place was still, faintly humming with residual energy. The walls glimmered with faint inscriptions—metal alloy infused with spiritual qi, sturdy and resistant to time. Above, evenly spaced lights illuminated the corridor with a pale white glow, their steady brightness softly humming like distant thunder.
The hallway stretched in both directions. Ventilation fans rotated lazily on the upper corners, pulling faint gusts of air through narrow shafts that connected above to the ruined city. Four doors lined the passage, each marked with dull metallic panels and opened locks. The faint scent of dust and old metal hung in the air.
Han Chen walked forward slowly, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
The first room—likely a bathroom—contained a mirror fixed to the wall and a metallic basin that activated through a crystal switch. Nearby rested a sleek bathing chamber, made of transparent material with faint runes to recycle and purify water with spiritual energy.
The second was a toilet, compact and pristine despite the ruins above. It emitted a faint flow of cleansing qi, keeping the air fresh.
The main corridor opened into a modest kitchen setup. Simple yet efficient—spiritual induction burners, a compact food processor powered by a spirit crystal core, and neatly stored packets of preserved meals. Han Chen paused briefly, wondering at the strange combination of cultivation and technology.
Across the hall, a bedroom rested in quiet. The bed was narrow but clean, with folded sheets, a table beside it, and a faintly glowing lamp anchored to the wall. A small jade panel was mounted beside the bed—its surface flashing dimly every few seconds, possibly for recording or communication.
The final doorway opened into a power room. Here, the air carried a low vibration, the hum of concentrated energy. A large cylindrical engine filled the center, semi-transparent tubes connecting spiritual batteries along the sides. Dim light circulated within the tubes in rhythmic pulses—life still lingering in the abandoned system.
Finger-scanner locks fixed at each door blinked red, but all of them had been forced open, likely by Wang Qi himself.
Han Chen returned to the hallway table where scattered papers and tools lay dormant. Among them, one item drew his attention—a circular jade token engraved with a single character : 'Yun.'
He turned it between his fingers, reading the simple engraving before slipping it into his spatial ring.
"This place must've belonged to someone else before him," he murmured softly, glancing back down the hallway one last time.
-----
Eleven days had passed since Han Chen left the ruins of Mo City. The road leading north was long and empty—scarred plains, burned-out camps, and faint traces of abandoned battlefields. Eventually, he reached massive walls that rose like mountains from the ground.
The District of Chang-an.
From afar, it looked more fortress than city. The walls stretched endlessly from left to right, lined with sleek black stone reinforced by spirit arrays. Dozens of watchtowers stood atop, each fitted with rotating spiritual cannons. Their long barrels glowed faintly blue, humming with restrained power. Han Chen walked calmly along the dusty road, his body concealed beneath Wang Qi's clothes. His face carried the same features—sharp and young—thanks to a light illusion technique he had crafted using his qi. To everything but the most careful eye, he was Wang Qi.
The moment he stepped within a hundred meters of the wall, several spiritual cannons turned.
WHIRR.
"Stop there!" a stern voice shouted from the wall. "Another step and you will be executed for trespassing!"
Han Chen raised his head and called back evenly, "I am Wang Qi from Mo City Defence Corps! Our city was destroyed. I seek shelter here at Chang-an!"
There was silence for a breath, then a faint metallic click from the upper wall. Soon after, a green light pulsed through one of the watchtowers—confirmation.
A figure descended swiftly, standing atop a leaf-shaped flying artifact that glowed with lines of blue qi. The man was dressed in gray armor embedded with spiritual nodes. As he landed in front of Han Chen, the artifact hovered quietly beneath his feet.
He clasped his hands politely. "I am Ou Ken, defence officer of Chang-an District. Please present your ID card and City Token for verification."
Han Chen stood still, his expression calm, though an inner thought passed quickly. "ID card? City token?"
He understood the words now—since absorbing Wang Qi's memories through deep observation and his own mental strength, language had come easily. Still, he had no direct idea what those items looked like. He searched his spatial ring, pulling out the circular token engraved with MO, the one taken from Wang Qi's corpse. Then he recalled the metal pen that had projected the man's holographic identification.
"That must be it," he thought.
He handed both items over, the token placed first into Ou Ken's hand, followed by the identification device. The officer produced a small handheld scanner from his own spatial ring—a rectangular tool etched with spell lines—and swept it over the two items.
A faint hum filled the air.
Ou Ken's scanner let out a sharp tone as the holographic text flickered before his eyes. His expression shifted—calm at first, then uncertain. He frowned slightly and tapped the earpiece on his right ear.
A faint crackle of static followed, then a muffled voice spoke through the device. Ou Ken listened silently for several seconds, his gaze occasionally flicking toward Han Chen. After the brief exchange, he exhaled through his nose and gave a curt nod.
"All records appear valid," he said at last, lowering the scanner. "You may enter."
The cannons atop the wall shifted away instantly. The gates, tall and layered with heavy arrays, opened with a metallic rumble.
Han Chen inclined his head. "Thank you."
Ou Ken gestured toward the open road through the gate. "Follow this path and report to the registration office ahead. Chang-an is on alert, so avoid unnecessary movement" Han Chen gave a brief nod and stepped forward, his eyes sweeping across the towering walls and gleaming lights of the city beyond.
-----
As Han Chen stepped through the heavy gates, a surge of bright light spread before him. The air shifted, clean and humming with faint spiritual energy. The walls that loomed behind sealed shut with a low thrum, cutting him off from the wastelands entirely.
Before him stretched a vast cityscape—tall glass buildings reaching skyward, their surfaces glowing faintly with qi-powered veins. Hovering transports drifted silently between towers. Wide streets pulsed with movement: cultivators in fitted uniforms, vendors beside food stalls powered by spirit cores, and ordinary citizens moving in steady rhythm beneath glowing street lamps.
Han Chen walked slowly, eyes scanning the flowing crowd. The sheer scale of the place was overwhelming—a perfect blend of cultivation and machines. "What a strange city," he thought. "Even their world breathes with energy."
Massive banners projected through holographic arrays shimmered above the main plaza, displaying district codes and public notices. He stopped near a public terminal and skimmed through some of the digital texts, recognizing words he had begun to understand. From there, he pieced the facts together.
The Chang-an District wasn't a single city—it was a fortified province built behind several layers of array walls. Inside, five sectors stood guarded under strict surveillance.
The three core cites :
Yan City – the administrative and defense center.
Hao City – known for weapon research and energy refinement.
Niu City – focused on cultivation academies and spiritual training grounds.
And two minor cities :
Yao City.
Xiao City.
All of them lay within the grand spiritual formation that encircled the district—walls reinforced with layered barriers, barrier towers, and automated cannons. Han Chen soon learned through overheard chatter that Chang-an was considered the safest haven for cultivators below the Nascent Soul stage. Outside these walls, no such safety remained.
War had ravaged the borders. The Yun, Mo, and Gu cities—once the district's outer defenses—had fallen in succession after prolonged battles. Their defensive formations collapsed during clashes between the Nascent Soul cultivators of both nations, Poland and the Fire Alliance. Even now, their ruins lay silent, filled with lingering spiritual energy and death. Han Chen looked toward the bustling road ahead, a faint wind brushing his sleeve. "So chaotic," he thought, adjusting the strap of his newly worn coat.
-
After completing standard entry procedures, Han Chen wandered through the inner district. The city stretched endlessly upward, its towers forged of dark silver glass and humming softly with contained qi. He paused before a large building—one of the countless skyscrapers that filled Chang-an's skyline. Its surface shimmered faintly as spiritual circuits pulsed beneath the material.
A sign outside displayed rates measured not in currency, but in spirit stones.
Han Chen approached the reception panel—an orb of light floating above a stone pedestal. After a brief exchange with the automated attendant, he placed two low-tier grade one spirit stones into the exchange slot. The orb flickered, verifying the energy. A soft voice echoed, "Transaction complete. Unit 450 is yours."
Moments later, an elevator carried him upward through a transparent shaft, the city shrinking below in a stream of blue light. The lift stopped midway up the tower with a clear tone.
DING.
As he entered the flat, soft light filled the room automatically.
It was simple but refined. A large bed stood against the right wall, the sheets crisp and spotless. A table with a single chair occupied one corner, facing a compact television that flickered to life with faint static. Han Chen stared at it for a moment, unable to understand its function, before turning away.
Beyond the main space, a glass bathroom reflected his form from every angle—walls transparent but tinted with runes for privacy.
Near the center of the room lay a cultivation cushion, circular and engraved with flow patterns. Just beside it rested a glowing spiritual eye—a fixture used to gather ambient spiritual energy. Thin waves of qi radiated from it, circulating like a calm breeze.
Han Chen brushed a finger over the cushion, feeling the focused pull of energy. "Efficient," he murmured.
A sofa rested near the balcony, which was made entirely of reinforced glass. The city lights glittered beyond, countless luminous towers puncturing the night. Streams of vehicles moved like quiet comets through the high airways.
Han Chen leaned lightly against the glass rail, gazing at the horizon. "It's amazing how efficiently people use energy here," he thought. "If I could take this knowledge back to my world…"
He looked toward the sky where distant flashes hinted at barriers and patrols, then turned away, sitting cross-legged upon the cultivation cushion. The spiritual eye pulsed faintly as he began circulating his qi.
Within Han Chen's meditation, his awareness sank deep into stillness. The outside world faded, replaced by a vast, endless expanse.
It was his sea of consciousness—a world of its own.
Dark waters stretched without end, waves rippling quietly beneath a red haze that shimmered in the air. Above hung a crimson moon, reflecting upon the black surface like molten glass. The atmosphere was dense, silent, yet heavy with strange vitality.
Two structures floated in the center of this realm.
One was a colossal library, towering seven stories high, ancient and unyielding. Its doors glowed faintly with symbols of forbidden knowledge. Thousands of unread manuals and secrets slumbered inside—a manifestation of the vast cultivation inheritance.
The second was a black orb, suspended in midair like a faint heartbeat pulsing through the void—the Heavenly Eye.
Han Chen walked across the water's surface, each step expanding gentle ripples until he reached the orb. He rested his palm against it, letting a stream of spiritual energy flow inside.
The orb trembled slightly. From within its darkness, a purple pupil unfurled like a blooming flame, staring back at him. Around it, seven diamond-shaped marks appeared, revolving slowly in a circle—each mark representing a different elemental essence.
Han Chen stared quietly, his reflection faint in the orb's surface. "So this is the first stage…"
He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the information sink into his mind. "I have to absorb seven types of qi to complete the first stage of the Heavenly Eye—Wood, Metal, Earth, Water, Fire, Life, and Death."
He exhaled softly. "Right now, I only possess Death Qi."
The purple pupil pulsed faintly, responding to his acknowledgment.
"I've killed seven people—six mortals and one cultivator at the fifth star of Qi Condensation. Their deaths gave me barely 0.000091 percent of the Death Qi needed." His voice echoed across the red-tinted sea, calm but resolved.
"The stronger they are, the more death essence they yield. It seems I'll have to hunt strength itself." He paused, glancing up toward the red moon as the water below glimmered faintly.
"As for the other six types of qi…" He stared coldly. "I'll figure that out later."
-----TO BE CONTINUED-----