Murals

What is the most terrifying thing in a high-difficulty instance? It isn't powerful enemies, but unknown mechanics. Just like right now. In most cases, as long as one figured out an instance's mechanics, all that remained was dealing with strong enemies—just fight and be done with it. The Yaoguang statue had wielded the Immortal-Slaying Flying Dagger and was powerful enough to instantly kill any one of them, yet she was still slain in the end. With the team's combined strength, even if they encountered a Level 9 Dominator, they could put up a fight. However, if they couldn't grasp the instance's mechanics, they risked being picked off one by one and wiped out entirely. Right now, Zhang Yuanqing didn't even know who the enemy was, nor did he understand why his teammates had vanished so bizarrely. Completely baffled, he had no idea where to direct his strength. He forced himself to calm down. *With their levels, they have enough strength to handle crises; they won't be in danger in the short term. If I can figure out this stage's mechanics before then, things will take a turn for the better.* Zhang Yuanqing thought rapidly: *We must have triggered an instance mechanic to make them disappear so mysteriously. Xiahou Aotian vanished when the ghost wedding procession passed, while the others disappeared after separating from me. Or perhaps... it wasn't them who disappeared, but me.* *The scouting yin corpse vanished inexplicably as well, but it never saw any ghost wedding procession. That means the trigger for the disappearance mechanic isn't the procession itself.* Analyzing up to this point, Zhang Yuanqing arrived at a tentative conclusion: The trigger for the disappearance was entering this area. The moment they stepped into this place, they had already triggered the second stage's mechanic. However, details like why Xiahou Aotian vanished first and why the yin corpse lost connection faster than the teammates remained unclear. Zhang Yuanqing landed lightly. He dispersed the miniature sun behind his head and deactivated his Blazing Sun God of War state. By now, having devoured too much yin energy and divine sun power, the Heaven Swallowing Beast's belly was bulging, and it had ceased functioning. It would take a fifteen-minute wait before its second state could be activated. Carrying the now-sated Heaven Swallowing Beast on his head without fear of it backlashing against its master, Zhang Yuanqing walked toward the nearby Golden Peak Hall. He had already finished checking the quarters; now he had to explore the Golden Peak Hall. Although this might trigger whatever danger lurked inside the hall, and it was somewhat risky being alone, it was the only way that offered a chance to swiftly find and rescue his teammates. Dense black smoke billowed in, obscuring his vision and cloaking his senses. Zhang Yuanqing cautiously felt his way forward through the darkness. After walking a dozen or so steps, he suddenly heard a call from behind: "Yuanzi, what are you doing here?" Zhang Yuanqing froze. That was Chen Shu's voice. The next second, someone grabbed his arm from behind and snapped angrily, "Hiding here again!" Zhang Yuanqing's heart tightened. He instinctively spun around and threw a punch behind him. As he turned, the smoky environment morphed into a summer twilight. The sun hung low in the west, and fiery sunset clouds covered half the sky in magnificent splendor. He was sitting beneath a locust tree outside the town, his fist landing squarely on Chen Shu's lower abdomen. Looking more than a decade younger, Chen Shu frowned, backhanded Zhang Yuanqing onto the ground, and said in annoyance, "You refuse to listen when I speak nicely to you! Do you only learn to fear when hands are thrown?" Zhang Yuanqing's cheek burned hot. In disbelief, he looked down at his fists—slender and small. Looking over himself, he was wearing a white T-shirt, pale yellow shorts, and a pair of Double Star running shoes with rubber spikes on the soles. *Why am I here...?* His mind was a muddled mess, unable to think calmly, as though he were in a drunken stupor. Chen Shu's scolding echoed in his ears. "Tomorrow, I'm transferring to work in Songhai's downtown area. If you don't want to live at your grandparents', then stay here all by yourself! I'm leaving today; I can't be bothered to deal with you." With that, she spun on her heel and strode away. After a dozen steps, seeing that Zhang Yuanqing hadn't followed, she grew furious, marched back, slapped him a few times, and dragged him away by the back of his neck. Zhang Yuanqing remembered. After his father passed away, Chen Shu had intended to leave the town and return to Songhai to work and live. But he hadn't wanted to go. He had grown up in the town; here were his playmates and familiar neighbors, and the big locust tree where his father had often brought him to enjoy the cool shade. This place was entirely suffused with his father's presence. Zhang Yuanqing began wailing, struggling desperately against his mother's grip. Right at that moment, his heart began pounding wildly—thump, thump, thump, thump—each beat more violent than the last, his chest heaving with every pulse. Zhang Yuanqing, who had been bawling, suddenly stopped. His pupils dilated as he fell into a blank daze. A few seconds later, life returned to his eyes—deep, calm, bright, and discerning. *Sigh, Chen Shu is annoying even in an illusion...* Zhang Yuanqing waved his hand gently. Chen Shu, the evening glow, the locust tree, and the village all dissipated, returning to the black-smoke-shrouded Shushan Southern Courtyard. He had just been pulled into an illusion. The illusion had come from deep within his heart, born of one of the unhappiest memories of his childhood. Fortunately, the Illusion God's Heart was exceptional and gave him a "warning," which, combined with the traits of his Day Wanderer class, allowed him to quickly break free from the illusion. *Judging from this, the others must have entered illusions as well. Logically speaking, even if one's consciousness is pulled into an illusion, the physical body should remain where it was.* Yet Zhang Yuanqing hadn't seen any trace of his teammates. By now, the Golden Peak Hall was less than ten meters away, only a vague outline visible through the black smoke. He raised his hand, conjuring a sphere of golden light in his palm. The pure sunlight served like a torch, quickly driving back the surrounding black smoke. While it wasn't enough to dilute the black smoke on a grand scale like the combo of the Heaven Swallowing Beast, Sunrise, and Blazing Sun God of War, it was sufficient for illumination. By the golden sunlight, Zhang Yuanqing focused his gaze. Hanging beneath the eaves of the Golden Peak Hall was a plaque, inscribed in neat regular script: "Zhengqi Hall!" Zhang Yuanqing donned his Purple Gold Armor, equipped the Golden Dragon Shield on his right arm, and held high a golden flame in his left hand as he stepped over the high threshold and entered the hall. The size and layout of this hall were no different from Yaoguang Hall. Atop a tall pedestal stood a handsome man with a flowing long beard, wearing flowing robes and carrying a sword on his back. The black smoke inside the hall was extraordinarily dense. Even the golden flame seemed veiled in a dark curtain, hazy and dim, illuminating a radius of less than ten meters. Zhang Yuanqing stood beside a pillar bearing a wooden plaque, reading the life story of this Shushan senior enshrined in the hall. This man was an elder of Shushan during the Jin dynasties named He Xiaoyu. In his youth, he had descended the mountain to travel, and for the following decades, he roamed the martial arts world, becoming a renowned chivalrous hero known to all. Both the righteous and unorthodox factions showed him considerable respect. He was even invited by the imperial family to serve as a swordmaster for three years, tutoring the princes in swordsmanship. In his middle age, he returned to the sect gate, living until he died of natural causes at a ripe old age. It was truly a case of the village kid passing the imperial exam as top scholar, bringing glory to his ancestors, so the folks built a hall for him. *Nothing special. If he died of natural causes, his soul would have dissipated long ago, making it unlikely for him to fall into a wraith like Sect Master Yaoguang... Hmm, could it be another malevolent entity possessing the statue?* The flame in Zhang Yuanqing's hand quickly shifted, condensing into a spear, which he hurled forcefully at the statue. After experiencing that illusion just now, Zhang Yuanqing felt completely confident. Illusions were his domain. Even if a terrifying inner demon, a Nihilist, or an evil spirit skilled in Charm Arts lurked in the hall, he wouldn't flinch. *Boom!* The statue shattered into pieces beneath the golden spear, with nothing unusual occurring throughout. *As expected, it has nothing to do with the statue. The source of the crisis is something else!* Zhang Yuanqing rekindled the golden flame and searched the hall. He first inspected the pedestal and touched the statue fragments. After confirming that there was truly nothing amiss, he stepped away from the pedestal and headed toward the left side of Zhengqi Hall. The golden flame danced, casting a hazy projection through the black smoke onto the wall. Zhang Yuanqing glanced casually at the wall, and his gaze instantly froze. There was a mural on the wall depicting an abandoned mortuary on a dark, windy night, where rotting coffins stood open, and tattered, rotting zombies besieged a young swordsman. At the swordsman's feet lay several beheaded zombies—and one of them was Zhang Yuanqing's missing yin corpse. A flash of inspiration struck Zhang Yuanqing's mind, and he finally understood the mechanic of the Zhengqi Hall stage: illusions! Anyone who entered this area would be drawn into an illusion—namely, into the mural—and then meet with misfortune, just like the yin corpse being slain by the swordsman inside the painting. However, Zhang Yuanqing's spirit body hadn't suffered any tearing, which meant the portion of his spirit body controlling the yin corpse was still intact, merely trapped inside the mural and unable to come out. As an illusion expert, he also understood the order of his teammates' disappearances by now: the weaker the spirit body, the easier it was to succumb to an illusion. The yin corpse was controlled by only a small fragment of his spirit body, so it had vanished fastest. Xiahou Aotian was a Scholar, possessing the weakest spirit body, which was why he was the first among the team to disappear. Meanwhile, Zhang Yuanqing possessed the strongest and most resilient spirit body and was a Nihilist to boot, so he had encountered the illusion last of all, seeing Chen Shu. Originally, he would have been pulled into the mural as well, but the uniqueness of the Illusion God's Heart had awakened him in time. *No wonder I haven't been attacked up to now. There won't be any attacks; my status in the domain of illusions has already exceeded the instance's limits, so the mural can't pull me in.* *Zhengqi Hall must have originally had murals that evolved into illusions after being nourished by yin energy... But ordinary murals wouldn't gain supernatural properties even if nourished by yin energy. The murals in this hall must have been extraordinary to begin with; it's just that once the illusion activated, their original appearance could no longer be seen.* Standing before the mural, Zhang Yuanqing reached out his palm and probed into the wall, attempting to pull his yin corpse out. When his hand touched the mural, ripples spread across the wall's surface. Half his hand sank in, but then it became stuck. A powerful force blocked his intrusion. In the domain of illusions, when an outsider wished to break an illusion, there were two methods: first, forcibly break it with high-status power; second, enter the illusion, weave illusions of one's own, and use illusion to break illusion. Zhang Yuanqing clicked his tongue. "It can't do anything to me, and I can't suppress it either. In that case, I can only use illusion to break illusion." He opened his inventory, took out the writing brush used for drawing spirit talismans, mobilized the spiritual power of the Illusion God's Heart, and drew a somewhat crude arrow on the mural. The arrow merged into the mural, becoming part of the painting, and struck the young swordsman through the heart. The young swordsman collapsed in a pool of blood. Yet right at that moment, the rotting doors of the mortuary burst open, and two young swordsmen rushed in, continuing the fierce battle against the zombies. *As many swordsmen as I kill, that many more show up? If so, this entanglement will go on forever...* Zhang Yuanqing pondered for a few seconds, changed his strategy, and used the brush to draw crude streaks of lightning. Instantly, thunder rumbled within the mortuary, and silver-white lightning filled with destructive power struck the zombies, reducing the ferocious yin creatures to charred cinders. The dynamic mural came to a halt, frozen on this scene, remaining motionless for a long time. Then the mural faded away. Zhang Yuanqing's yin corpse, head included, tumbled out from the wall, and that wisp of consciousness returned to his main body. Having initially grasped the mural's operating mechanism, Zhang Yuanqing held up the golden flame and walked along the wall, soon coming upon a second mural. This was an eerie old mansion hung all over with white lanterns. Inside the main hall, crimson drapes hung down, white candles burned with sickly green flames, and two rows of paper dolls with rouged cheeks and blank expressions stood waiting. Seated in the seats of honor were two paper dolls dressed as a wealthy gentleman and noble lady, their faces expressionless. Kneeling in the middle of the hall were a groom and a bride. The bride was covered by a red bridal veil, her features obscured, but from her sleeves emerged a pair of pale hands with pitch-black fingernails. The groom's face was stricken with terror, cold sweat beading on his forehead; though dressed in wedding attire, he looked terrified to the verge of tears. His appearance bore a seventy to eighty percent resemblance to Xiahou Aotian.