Bubbles burst; phantoms collapsed.
Everything perished in the silence.
Right under Wen Zheng’s watchful gaze, the Pure Land arrived, and then, departed.
Yet what was the result?
The result was no result at all—neither success nor failure.
Once the phantasm dispersed, nothing remained but sheer void.
As though nothing had happened at all.
And so, the Saintly Fool’s brow furrowed silently.
It was not that his mind was so narrow he could not accept failure. Moreover, even success would not have had him beaming with joy; win or lose, it was merely an attempt.
Success or failure was equally acceptable.
Yet the one thing he could not understand was such emptiness and silence.
Exhausting every scheme only to come up entirely empty-handed.
So why?
Right before the Paradise of Myriad Phenomena dispersed, Wen Zheng had reached out his hand, determined to make an attempt.
Yet in that instant, he felt the locking and suppression of heaven and earth, along with a terrifying pressure held poised to strike, surging out of nothingness like a tide.
Tianyi.
Tianyi, who had stood indifferently watching from beginning to end, had been the first to make a move.
Wen Zheng looked over, full of curiosity. “Has Your Excellency Tianyi decided to make a move?”
“Merely a reminder. The agreement between you and me was strictly limited to watching, and did not include letting you run wild as you please.”
Tianyi said slowly, “How about ending it here? Otherwise, drawing the attention of other locksmiths down the line might also prove inconvenient for Your Excellency the Guide's plans, wouldn't it?”
Wen Zheng sighed softly. “A Saint of the Heavenly Overseer through and through—your appraisal of interests is truly masterful.”
“Is Your Excellency the Guide not equally resourceful?”
Tianyi did not move, merely staring at the opponent before him with cold eyes.
Until Wen Zheng gave a slight shrug.
“In that case, then I will not intrude.”
The Saintly Fool waved an airy hand and turned to leave. “Farewell.”
A pitch-black rift opened out of thin air, swallowing his figure. With that, he drifted away.
All the various arrangements and ambushes laid in secret had come to nothing.
“Tsk...”
Tianyi frowned. “Why didn't you strike?”
Behind him, the master of the Federation Security Bureau, the Sage of Tianyuan, Pang Pei, finally revealed his presence with a rueful sigh. “I couldn't find an opening to strike... There was another fellow hiding behind the scenes.”
Dammit, what a great precedent that old dog Tianlu had set—every single one of them was chumming the waters, every single one wanted to go fishing!
Perhaps it could have been a deliberate feint.
Yet hadn't Wen Zheng banked precisely on the Tianyuan sort's pragmatic style of never taking reckless gambles?
“You heard everything he said as well,” Tianyi asked slowly. “How much was true, and how much false?”
Pang Pei shook his head. “No need to guess—it's definitely all true. A fellow like the Guide disdains lying, because even when he tells the unvarnished truth, you still end up dancing to his tune.”
“You mean he wants to set a trap for the Sower? Internal strife?”
“Internal strife might not be the word. While an alliance among Holy Fools is hardly monolithic, his goal at least is clear: he wants to draw in the forces of the Federation and the Empire to throw the situation into utter chaos.”
Pang Pei pondered for a moment and sighed. “Still, with the Sower hiding behind the scenes in Mid-Continent, cultivating for so many years, it will likely be troublesome.”
Tianyi nodded without hesitation. “Then let us grant his wish and turn up the heat.”
“Aggravate the situation in Mid-Continent at a time like this?”
“What else? Where else would we stir up trouble? Bring fire upon ourselves?” Tianyi countered, reminding him, “The Tiandu Project concerns the future of the Federation and permits no disruption. Don't forget, the Empire is hot on our heels.”
Pang Pei said nothing more.
He lowered his gaze, staring down at the desolate Archipelago below, and let out a silent sigh after a long pause.
It was nothing more than a living hell.
And the hells created by the Federation were hardly limited to this trivial one.
Why hesitate, then?
***
“We nearly came to blows. Truly terrifying,” Wen Zheng sighed softly behind the closed rift, turning toward his companion. “Thank you for making the trip.”
“I had nothing better to do, merely a casual move,” the Reaper in the shadows said impassively. “Though the goals of Holy Fools differ, our fundamental stance is inherently one. Just make sure you don't shirk when I need you later.”
“Of course, of course, next time for sure,” Wen Zheng nodded cheerfully, wearing a thoroughly irritating smile.
This was the most revolting part of cooperating with this fellow: regardless of whether one's goals were achieved, one was bound to end up dissatisfied in every respect.
“I am only curious about one thing,” the Reaper asked slowly. “Would someone like you—who scorns human hearts, mocks Heaven's Mandate with sheer arrogance, ridicules everything, and naturally treats all things as mere tools... truly believe in a so-called prophecy?”
The prophecy of the Heavenly Tome.
The final 'gift' and 'curse' left behind by the Sage of Aether for his opponent before his fall—*One day, among your descendants, someone will surpass you, treading upon your bones to reach an even greater height!*
From then on, the man named Wen Zheng had been trapped in a cage of fate, unable to break free.
“I believe it,” Wen Zheng said nonchalantly. “Why wouldn't I?”
He paused, grinning, and laughed silently. “After all, I made the prophecy up.”
“...”
The Reaper fell silent. From within the shadows came a stunned, wide-eyed stare. An unprecedented bewilderment surfaced, baffling and utterly incomprehensible.
He only wanted to know one thing right now: *Are you out of your fucking mind?*
“To be precise, the prophecy made by the Heavenly Tome back then only had the first half,” Wen Zheng explained candidly. “The second half was fake. I added it myself.”
“...”
The Reaper grew even more silent, only finding this bastard even more deranged.
“That old fossil loved disgusting people more than anything. Dying wasn't enough; he still wanted to leave others uncomfortable.”
Wen Zheng looked back at him. “And coincidentally, what I hate most is precisely things like 'prophecies'—delusions used by the utter fools of the world to deceive themselves, absolute dogshit. What child of prophecy, what promised king, what lord of heaven's mandate? As if everything were predestined by some so-called Heaven's Mandate.”
The Reaper shook his head. “Heaven's Mandate still exists.”
“Who says it doesn't?” Wen Zheng grinned, no longer concealing his mockery. “Perhaps one day, someone stronger than me will emerge from behind me and walk to the very forefront where I cannot go. Perhaps he, or she, will far surpass me. But—no.”
“Perhaps it will be because of astonishing natural talent, or peerless ability, or unmatched perseverance and boldness—or even because they are despicable, vile, and contemptible. None of that matters. There are so many people in this world who surpass me, and I have never once felt humbled by them. But if what decides all this is merely some so-called 'fate,' then that I cannot permit!
“So why not let me pen a little footnote for it—?”
Wen Zheng began to laugh, thoroughly delighted. “If the so-called prophecy must come to pass, then let me be the one standing in the way.
“If I win, then the so-called prophecy and Heaven's Mandate are nothing but a joke. If fate triumphs over me, then let it crush over my corpse, bearing the traces and annotations I have left behind. Success or failure, my fate is decided by me. And as for their lives, they will choose for themselves!”
Gratitude and grudges are determined by you and me; winning and losing are decided by strength and weakness. It has nothing to do with Heaven's Mandate, nor with prophecies; it is simply because you stand against me. Clear, brisk, and simple!
Only like this could it be considered fair, and only like this could it be truly exhilarating.
Such was the arrogance of what was known as a Saintly Fool.
Overestimating himself, placing himself before a fate equivalent to the entire world. Yet without the resolve to overturn Heaven's Mandate and challenge the whole world, why would one ever set foot upon such a path?
“Wen Zheng—” After a long silence, the Reaper finally asked, “Did you ever love those children?”
“I do. Of course, from the bottom of my heart!” Wen Zheng smiled, without the slightest hesitation. “Just as one loves one's own enemies—by any means necessary.”
“And hatred?”
Wen Zheng was still smiling, unwavering. “Just as those children hate me—open and upright.”
Love and hate stemmed from the exact same source.
Perhaps cruel, perhaps cold, yet this equal measure of love and hate was all the mercy and pity the Guide, as a father, could bestow upon his children.
Beyond that, there was nothing else.
He walked forward with his hands behind his back, tossing aside everything that had lost its value, never looking back.
The only unexpected thing was that the third seed had not been completed.
What a pity, what a shame.
And how wonderful.
Something unexpected had finally happened...
To his surprise, it stirred an involuntary sense of anticipation within him.
*Will that child make my prophecy come true?*
***
Wen Wen had a dream.
Clamorous, bustling, lively, busy, and chaotic.
Going to school, tidying her room, the track team, exams, eating out together, curfews, dyeing hair, adventures in haunted houses, gossiping behind the backs of annoying teachers and classmates, complaining about her siblings at home.
Quietly saving money to buy a motorcycle.
Going home for dinner, bickering until everyone was red in the face.
Sitting together watching television, fighting over the remote, critiquing the plot, inevitably squabbling, pulling each other's hair, shouting for Mom, tussling, then holding their noses and putting up with it—and once the reason for being angry was gradually forgotten, everything returned to normal again, cycling on and on.
Noisy and rowdy, peaceful and calm.
When taking photos, flashing cliché peace signs, yelling “Say cheese!”, capturing the smiling faces of everyone.
The sun and moon shone down.
Under the gentle, phantasmal light, everything was plated in radiant gold and dazzling silver, gleaming like gemstones, falling grain by grain into her palms like incomparable treasures.
In the blink of an eye, it seemed as if a long, long time had passed.
Only, when she occasionally looked back, she felt as though something was missing.
Inside her heart, there was a gap, an emptiness.
Waking in the dead of night, she seemed to hear the distant sound of wind echoing like a sob.
And so, Wen Wen decided to set off.
Bidding farewell to her family, carrying her meager savings and a bike, she embarked on a journey without looking back.
She seemed to travel to many places, wandering among crossroads, growing more and more bewildered and lost.
Thus, she climbed over mountain after mountain, crossed river after river, traversing endless deserts and wall after towering wall.
Leaving behind her broken motorcycle, she wandered through the long dark.
Until, at the desolate end of the world, deep within an abyssal rift, she saw a dragon buried in dust and dirt.
The dragon was looking at her, too.
Those eyes were like the sun and the moon imprisoned within the abyss.
That self she had abandoned, waiting alone in the dark, crying out in grief and singing day after day.
In that moment, Wen Wen finally remembered what she used to look like.
“...So this is where you were,” she murmured softly in sudden realization. Gazing upon that massive, ferocious form, she gathered her courage and took a step forward, then another.
Voluntarily, she walked toward that massive eye filled with resentment and sorrow.
“I'm sorry for making you wait so many years.”
She reached out her hand, stroking the cracked scales. The sharp scales sliced into her fingers, blood seeping out. “Do you resent me?”
The dragon did not answer.
It merely remained silent, lowering its head, carefully reaching forward to brush against her cheek.
Then, it gently nudged her backward.
*This isn't where you belong. Hurry and leave.*
“It's so cold here.”
Wen Wen looked up and gazed around—freezing cold and vast and empty.
In the dark, no light could be seen.
She took a step back, set down her pack, opened the bundle, rummaged through her things, and finally looked up regretfully. “I'm sorry. I only brought one blanket.”
The giant dragon gazed at her blankly.
It saw her smile, and the little printed flowers scattered across the blanket she slowly unfolded. “So, would you mind sharing it with me?”
The dragon did not speak. The dragon did not answer. The dragon merely looked at her, holding back the tears that threatened to fall.
And so, the monster as colossal as a mountain and the lonely traveling girl shared that single little blanket, curling up together in the dark world, neither feeling afraid any longer.
They snuggled against each other, like a flower blooming upon cold stone.
Once again, they fell into a deep slumber.
Hand in hand, they departed together for a new dreamland.
There was no need to fear the world that awaited after waking.
In this sweet dream stretching beyond the horizon, there was time enough for eternity.
Chapter 550