“Shen, did something happen?”
In the misty-shrouded Crystal Stone World, inside the Naihe Guardian Hall—one of the Three Great Sanctuaries—a white-haired girl stormed down from the Sculpture Bridge, full of indignation.
“It’s nothing, just a small matter,” Shen replied as he checked the salt, “but I need to get back as soon as possible.”
At the same time, in the airport of Cuidang City, Xu Chuyao sat on the V-plane, staring at her screen. She’d somehow gained nearly a thousand points of Friend Acquisition Feedback Value out of nowhere, sinking into deep confusion.
What is going on?
Whatever, I’ll get off the plane first.
Several planes were already parked at the airport, indicating that many people had arrived here around this time from various places today.
Xu Chuyao wasn’t the first to arrive, nor was she the last.
Teacher and student disembarked together, following the guidance of airport staff. Once outside, they boarded a special vehicle that took them directly to the temporary command post.
Xu Chuyao opened the map app on her phone and, tracking the real-time changes in her location, saw that the temporary command post was in the eastern part of Cuirui, near the Sculpture Wall and the coastline.
“Hey, Old Ban, look over there, what are those?”
She’d wanted to check out how high the legendary mountain range was, but a glance out the window revealed numerous sculptures standing along the cliff face.
The wild, fiery shadow of the sculptures seemed to move, and there were over a dozen in all.
“Those are local celebrities, or people who made special contributions to the city,” Yu Jing, already familiar with the information, explained.
“Several city lords, builders of the major city structures—they’re all up there.”
It’s not a difficult thing to do, as long as someone with earth-element spiritual power at Tier 3 or above is available. The construction time is negligible; just a few days of spare time and it’s done.
“So that’s how it is,” Xu Chuyao nodded. “Tell me, Old Ban, if I perform outstandingly this time, will I get a chance to be carved up there too?”
Yu Jing smiled and advised, “No need. Being hung up there isn’t considered a particularly great honor. Many people with real status and reputation were refused when locals wanted to put them up there. Like during the wars, when they liberated Fengchong City…”
She trailed off mid-sentence, but Xu Chuyao was sharp. Judging from the context, Old Ban must be talking about Wen Banqing, the current Grand Marshal of All Armies.
After a pause, Yu Jing changed the subject, “Besides, this style of sculpture is… a bit too three-dimensional.”
No kidding—right in the center was a previous city lord, built like a bodybuilder, muscles bulging in the sculpture.
Xu Chuyao imagined what it would look like if she were carved up there too, and shivered.
“You’re right, Old Ban, forget it.”
What she didn’t know was that she’d already become the subject of a large dynamic wallpaper in someone else’s world.
Whenever the Singing Choir spent days and nights singing the praises of the Queen, there’d always be a moment to admire the matchless beauty of someone like her beneath the throne.
Ten minutes later, the special vehicle arrived at its destination.
The buildings ahead weren’t tall, just three or four stories on average, but they sprawled wide—this entire area at the foot of the mountain was now all command post property. Even if it wasn’t before, it certainly was now.
A security guard came up to the gate and asked for their IDs.
“We’re from Center City,” Xu Chuyao replied, presenting her freshly-awarded Golden Four-Star Medal of Courage.
The security guard saluted, signaled his partner to register their information, and then led her to one of the buildings. Pushing open the door, they found that several people were already inside—including a familiar face.
“Xu Xiao Pao, you’re here too?” Wei Lin strode over from the crowd and greeted both her and Yu Jing.
So much had happened in just a few days that even the news of Yu Jing advancing to Tier Four hadn’t spread. To others, she was still just the well-connected monitor from Shengling Academy.
Xu Chuyao nodded slightly in response, thinking that even the Security Department chief had been summoned over. Center City must not be run entirely by temps now.
Thankfully, Wei Lin explained that his deputy was currently overseeing security back at Center City and had experience—there wouldn’t be any issues for now.
There were quite a few people here, most of whom Xu Chuyao didn’t recognize, so they walked over to a corner to catch up.
“Xu Xiaojing, I arrived a few days early and picked up a bit of news,” Wei Lin said proactively. “This time, the matter’s not simple. You must know, the Supreme Society stirring up so much trouble means there are still a lot of issues inside, but the higher-ups aren’t dealing with the Internal Traitor problem at all. They’re just moving people and taking action, as if they’re not worried about Internal Traitors sabotaging from within.”
Xu Chuyao quietly agreed—of course the higher-ups weren’t worried, they’d had the names on their lists for over a decade.
“Anything else?”
Seeing how composed she was, Wei Lin was briefly stunned, then got excited. “Looks like the rumors are true, Xu Xiaota, I’ll be relying on you for guidance this time!”
Huh?
What guidance? Why is everyone looking at me like that?
“Speak properly, don’t joke around,” she retorted.
“Hey, you really don’t know they all found out, huh?” Wei Lin scratched his head. “Seriously, I’m not sure if you know they’ve all found out.”
Xu Chuyao blinked several times before barely managing to hold on to her usual demeanor. “Don’t do that, and don’t just say whatever comes to mind.”
“Well, what I mean is, it’s been circulating everywhere—everyone’s saying you figured out this conspiracy half a month ago and told someone to report it up the chain. But because of your position, the news got blocked by the Conquest Department’s Internal Traitor. Even so, you didn’t sit still; you led a team to root out and seriously injure the Internal Traitor from the Conquest Department. But there were just too many of them, so the conspiracy still went through.”
Wei Lin recounted the story vividly, full of emotion, highlighting that while the team lost, Xu Chuyao herself did not. It painted her as a model of honor and backbone for all members of the Supreme Society.
Xu Chuyao’s mouth twitched ever so slightly.
This account matched the protest she’d submitted for her medal—she’d fluffed up the story for the sake of the Golden Star, but most of it was true… Well, basically all true, except the details about initiative versus passivity. The rest were facts.
Overall, the effect was good, but it was a bit too over-the-top—almost everyone knew now.
“So, everyone’s saying you’ll definitely hold an important position in the United Command Post this time.”
“Well, is that so,” she replied.
Wei Lin looked a little smug. “Xu Xiaohong, you’re not nervous at all.”
“No, I’m very nervous,” Xu Chuyao said with a deadpan face. “I’m thrilled.”
How awkward. This isn’t even following the original plot, and not even the prophets can work anymore.
After checking in on things, she learned that everyone would arrive within a few hours, and there would be a meeting that evening to assign roles and explain the situation in detail. Afterward, the rooms were distributed so they could rest.
Not even a hundred kilometers from the mountain range was Haibo Town on the East Sea Coast.
Before the Spirit Era, it was a tourist destination. Now, there were far fewer visitors, but it still retained some liveliness—especially as the weather grew warmer and the sea breeze stirred with the current, attracting many people to walk along the shore.
Yet, in a place where most people wore only the lightest of clothes, there was someone walking along the sand in a full black overcoat, taking awkward, shuffling steps.
Several people sitting on the beach pointed at her.
“Look at that! Hurry, look!”
“Who wears a coat in this heat and sits under the sun? Must be crazy.”
“Maybe she just woke up from winter hibernation and hasn’t realized it’s summer yet?”
“Shh, keep your voice down, don’t let her hear you.”
Someone was more insightful: to dress like that in this weather and still move without collapsing, her constitution must be extraordinary—a spiritual power user, most likely.
But what they didn’t know was that even if they whispered, someone empowered by Tier Four spiritual power could hear them crystal clear.
Wang Li acted as if she hadn’t heard, simply keeping her pace—one step, two steps, step by step—until she reached a sunken pond behind Cheng Wei.
There, two grim men in plainclothes stood guard, nodding as she approached.
“Any discoveries this morning?” Wang Li asked, taking the binoculars to scan the farther sea.
Beneath the calm sea, dangers lurked. The serene waves were only a cover for what was happening below. When the surface became restless, it meant the sea below was about to erupt.
At that moment, in the shadow of the lighthouse tower, the distant sea was just like that. Amid the cyan water, eerie glimmers shimmered, sometimes surfacing and then disappearing with the shifting waves.
It was still daytime—the sun high in the sky, the moon not yet risen. That stretch of ocean looked like it was caught in a time-warp, rolling up strange ripples.
Clearly abnormal.
“Crossing the open ocean, what could it be?” Wang Li’s eyes flashed. “Jellyfish? Octopus? Or… scales—this year happens to be the Year of the Snake.”
In truth, not all mutant animals were from the Southern Hemisphere, especially in the ocean.
Whether pre-Spirit or post-Spirit era, the real rulers of the sea have always been the Salmon.
With a strong foundation, some among their ranks had mutated under the influence of spiritual power—like the one Mutant Moss Whale, bigger than an island, swimming through the open seas.
But whether mutated or not, they wouldn’t come ashore to hunt humans. That’s why the northern seas were generally safe.
Only those animals that were already aggressive and unstable—when agitated—could cause serious harm to human society, just as Wang Li was hoping for, native species of the coastal region.
Looking forward to the upcoming confrontation, Wang Li set aside the binoculars and looked at the sunbathers and swimmers enjoying themselves. A benevolent smile appeared on her face.
These precious people—each and every one was a rare prop for the animal performance in a few days. Not one could be spared.
In the Crystal Stone World, there is no wind—only cold hearts.
And the Queen’s icy presence.
Mei Sui stuck her hands inside her sleeves, in a flash turning from an old Londoner to an Old Beijinger.
“Shen Xiaopa, if you have time, shall we go visit the ancient town?”
Shen glanced at her, shook his head: “I need to get back soon.”
That’s what he said, but in reality, the sky still hadn’t turned dark. Yet she’d gotten a message saying, “Come back before dark.” Couldn’t his girlfriend let him return a little earlier?
What is she doing!
It was still daylight outside, but not for much longer.
Xu Chuyao had originally thought of dragging the girl back, but suddenly remembered that Shen didn’t like attending meetings, so she decided to wait until later to summon her.
She was now with Yu Jing and Geng Lin in the grand conference hall—Geng Lin had joined them on the way. The hall was crowded; with so many people, the atmosphere was chaotic, faces blurred, making it impossible to tell who was who.
Xu Chuyao overheard people discussing her behind her back, but since they hadn’t noticed her yet, they whispered at the edge of the hall.
“That student with the surname ‘Nu,’ you know her, right?”
“Of course I know her—I’ve heard people mention her at least seven or eight times in the past few days.”
“She’s really made a name for herself this time.”
“Yeah, even when she’s not making a name for herself, she stands out.”
“What I mean is, from the looks of it, one of the top posts in the United Command Post will probably go to her.”
Xu Chuyao ignored their excited discussion, slipping past quietly. Returning to where she had been, she found Wei Lin chatting with a middle-aged man who wore a strained smile—more exhausted than pleased, as if he hadn’t rested in days.
Looking closer, wasn’t that Director Fu from the Ministry?
“Director Fu.” Xu Chuyao stepped forward and greeted him. “You’ve come in person too.”
It was Wei Jia’s first time meeting the man face to face.