Ferrying to the Mountain City

After resting at the hotel for two days, Chen Chuan's delegation regained their energy and spirits, then boarded the train bound for Vea State. A day later, the train reached the outskirts of the Center City. Today happened to be December 25th, and the Federation's New Year celebrations were already underway. From afar, countless multicolored hot air balloons could be seen drifting across the azure sky dotted with puffy white clouds. It was between two and three in the afternoon, the sunlight bright yet gentle. On the distant horizon lay the mottled gray-and-white Central Split-Ridge Mountains. Vea Center City sat atop the mountain range's first ridge, resembling a city perched on a mountain crest. Yet though its elevation was high, the mountain's slope was relatively gentle. Dense clusters of buildings outside the city spread gradually outward along the slopes. Encircling them were highways radiating in all directions, stretching into the distance like veins across the mountains, with an endless stream of traffic glinting in the sunlight. Lake Qiyuan, the smallest inland lake on the West Coast, was set into the vast plains like a mirror of deep azure. Its waters were crystal clear, reflecting the sky and drifting clouds. The magnificent Taita River flowed through the lake and wound its way into the distance. Across the plains lining both banks lay sprawling industrial districts, dotted with neatly aligned factories and towering smokestacks, while cargo ships sailed down the river one after another. Perhaps because this was a city of fighters, or perhaps because the city's administrators were more competent, the spore mist ubiquitous in Celanocha Center City was nowhere to be seen here, sparing this splendid scenery from being spoiled. Upon arriving, they transferred to a sightseeing ferry that could head straight toward the urban area along the waterway. Even though the boat carried two martial artists, Chen Chuan and Gui Zihan, the municipal checkpoints showed no wariness whatsoever, promptly letting them through once their identities were confirmed. The most famous Beaver Dam on the Federation's West Coast stood at Lake Qiyuan's outlet. Once the ferry entered the locks later on, it would rise stage by stage with the water level, ascending as if traveling against the current. Passengers could admire the architectural sights on either side, pass through layer upon layer of mountain gates, and ultimately climb up to the elevated inner port. While waiting to enter the locks, one could see the famed Broken Column Shoals on both sides of the river, along with the towering stone columns that remained there. Some claimed they were left behind by the First People, but archaeological research dated them back at least twenty thousand years. In that era, the First People were still in a primitive age, and such an immense undertaking was by no means something a simple ancient nation could achieve. Federation academia used this to argue that the First People were not the original natives of this land either, but outsiders just like themselves. Chen Chuan gazed at the magnificent clusters of stone pillars. Throughout history, the Periods of Cold Silence had buried countless nations and civilizations; it was hardly surprising that such an ancient realm had once existed here. In Great Shun, similar ruins were far from rare. At this moment, he noticed several people dressed in patched rags, barefoot, with their long hair hanging loose, walking among the broken pillars. They seemed to be lifting fragments of the broken pillars and setting them back in their original positions. Each time they set a piece in place, they pressed their palms together and bowed to the pillar. From their appearance, they were unmistakably practitioners of the Chan Sect. A guide dispatched by the municipal government introduced them to the passengers, explaining that these were practitioners from Little Awakening Temple. It was said they came to right these ancient columns in order to cultivate the "Awakened Mind." Allegedly, if they succeeded in righting them all, they would attain the Mind Station. They really were from Little Awakening Temple. Chen Chuan was not surprised. In earlier years, during the conflict between the two religions, the Chan Sect had suffered defeat and crossed eastward. A portion of them reached Ying Continent, and one branch founded a temple on the southern Savila Island State. Although its territory was not one of the five great states, it was densely populated and had numerous Chan devotees, giving it an influence that could not be underestimated. The temple had indeed produced quite a few martial artists—for instance, Master Prabhakar of the earlier Federation delegation hailed from Little Awakening Temple. After watching for a while and seeing several practitioners placing small fragments of stone directly atop one another, someone asked curiously, "Can they really piece them together like that? Haven't many of them long since shattered into small fragments?" "Yeah, without any binder or mortar, just stacking them upward like building blocks—can that really hold together?" As they spoke, someone pointed toward another spot and said, "Look." Everyone turned to look and saw that a practitioner had already pieced numerous stone fragments into a rough whole. No one knew how long he had spent retrieving them all; plenty of gaps remained between the rubble, yet the rough shape was visible. Now he slowly and carefully placed a relatively intact section of broken column on top. Everyone held their breath. Sweat dripped from the practitioner's face, his movements exceedingly slow. When he finally released his hands, the column stood firmly in place. Yet before anyone could applaud, a sudden gust of wind blew past. The column swayed a few times and fell, and the fragments came crashing down with a clatter. Dust and rubble splattered across the practitioner's face, even drawing blood in several spots, leaving him in utter disarray. While this brought sighs of sympathy from some, it also prompted a burst of laughter from passengers on neighboring boats, as if the practitioner's embarrassment brought them great amusement. None of the people on Chen Chuan's side laughed, for many could see that this practitioner possessed a pious heart and immense resolve. Even in failure, he showed neither annoyance nor despair. Instead, he quietly pressed his palms together for a moment, bent down once more, and began placing the newly shattered fragments back on top one by one. The other passengers watched with keen interest, anticipating the next attempt as though wanting him to succeed, yet also seemingly eager to see him fail again. "Look over there..." someone among the passengers pointed into the distance, an expression of astonishment and disbelief on their face. Everyone looked over, instantly filled with awe. For they saw several columns that had been pieced back together—yet many of the connecting sections were made of isolated, jagged fragments, stacked haphazardly like a crooked "thin thread." Most absurd of all, balanced atop that flimsy thread was a nearly intact half-column. Yet precisely such an absurdly simple, almost comical assembly managed to support a pillar a full seventeen or eighteen meters tall, standing perfectly upright as though held bound by an invisible force. It was simply incredible. "W-will that really not fall down?" someone asked. The guide said, "Rest assured, it won't. Those were all erected by Chan masters. The earliest one has stood for over five hundred years, yet it remains upright to this day. It's a renowned sight in Vea State." Chen Chuan observed them. These practitioners were no ordinary people, yet they had not used any spiritual power when stacking and assembling the stones. The same went for that massive column. However, he could sense a faint attractive force between the pillars, an energy that seemed to unite the earth and the mountains. In all likelihood, a vast esoteric ritual had once existed here; though very faint now, it lingered still, like a breeze through the woods that came and went. If someone with sharp perception placed the broken stones at the exact moment the esoteric ritual manifested, the stones would harmonize with the ritual and stand motionless atop it. Furthermore, no subsequent placement could have the slightest flaw; every step had to align perfectly with it, or all prior efforts would be ruined. The more external objects incorporated into the ritual, the greater the difficulty, and the harsher the trial for one's inner senses. Thus, while it appeared they were raising pillars, they were in truth tempering the mind—or in the Chan Sect's phrasing, Awakening the Mind. While they watched, the ferry passed through one water gate after another. As their line of sight gradually rose, it felt as though they were sailing into the sky, while the buildings across the plains sank below. This novel experience drew continuous gasps of marvel from the passengers. After ascending layer by layer, they finally arrived at the inner port. Two tall buildings stood facing each other here, linked by a skybridge between them. Their exterior walls were adorned with glistening light-blue glass curtain walls, and at the center was a massive insignia of the West Coast flag. On the facades of both buildings were two giant advertising screens, their silvery-white biomembrane surfaces glittering under the sun. Lining both sides of the roads were curved black pylons over five meters tall—distinctive field information pylons used by the Federation, similar to Great Shun's boundary nodes. At this point, the guide said, "Please connect and log in to the Vea Center City platform. Once your identity is verified, you will be able to access the full range of municipal services." The Federation used "cochlear worm" implants, but the technicians had already skillfully calibrated and modified their boundary credentials, allowing them to interface directly with the local field platform. Normally, this was forbidden as unauthorized tapping. However, the delegation had special status; after consulting with the Center City authorities, they had been granted a permit to use this connection and communication method during their visit. With a few taps, everyone logged onto the platform. The surrounding scenery suddenly came alive. Various streams of information and audio flickered and flashed across the light screen before their boundary credentials, constantly updating. Farther away, the spaces where the information pylons stood were also filled with vivid informational projections. Most prevalent was information on various martial tournaments. Detailed records were provided for every fighter: past matches, win-loss records, personality traits, win rates, popularity ratings, and more. Thoughtfully displayed alongside were betting lines and odds; a casual tap was all it took to easily buy tickets and place wagers. Of course, if one didn't want to bother checking, they could simply purchase a service and entrust it to the city's active or inactive conscious entities. The entities would manage the wagers and send real-time alerts and notices regarding one's fluctuating wealth. However, the delegation had strict rules and discipline forbidding participation in such activities, lest someone gain leverage over them or compromise internal secrets. Upon arriving here, Chen Chuan suddenly felt a vague sensation. He looked up toward the sky, sensing as if a power high above was watching him. Just then, the light screen before him flickered. A woman clad in a white robe with long silver hair appeared several paces away, accompanied by an unusually ethereal and soft voice: "Hello, Mr. Chen. I am Alula, the active conscious administrator of Vea Center City, here at your service. Is there anything you need?" ...