Chapter 76

Zhang Zhixiong called out to stop Li Yi, fearing the young man might lose heart and sink into sensual indulgence until death; though he didn’t know Li Yi, Li Yi was still an investigator, and when rescue was needed, he had to act—he couldn’t just watch Li Yi walk to his death.

His voice also roused others; nearby skeletons turned their heads in unison.

“I’m not going to kill myself—I thought of a way to escape this illusion,” Li Yi halted his steps and turned back, speaking seriously.

“Really?”

Zhang Zhixiong blinked in surprise: “What method did you think of? Quickly, tell us!”

At that moment, not just him, but the squad leader Zhang Lei nearby also opened his hollow eyes, glancing slightly in their direction.

Li Yi explained: “I recognize the mural on this wall—it’s called the White Bone Contemplation. This illusion isn’t meant to kill us; it’s a trial. If we pass, we can escape the illusion and return to reality. But if we fail within a set time, we’ll be like those before us—flesh dissolves, leaving only white bones.”

“Similarly, our real bodies will lose consciousness and become corpses.”

“White Bone Contemplation? Li Yi, go on—how do we pass the trial?” Zhang Lei asked immediately.

Li Yi said: “The first method is to see beauty as white bones, and white bones as beauty—to reach a state of desirelessness and fearlessness. Once achieved, you instantly escape the illusion.”

“See beauty as white bones, white bones as beauty—desirelessness and fearlessness?”

The others murmured Li Yi’s words, sensing profound wisdom in this seemingly simple phrase, prompting deep reflection.

“So that’s it—I understand,” said the Daoist priest from Mount Sanqing.

Suddenly, the Daoist priest Pete stepped forward and said: “This illusion tests our inner nature. The beauties here are not to be avoided—they represent our inner desires. We must face these desires until they vanish completely.”

“Likewise, the skeletons represent fear—the fear of death. We must overcome this fear to achieve desirelessness and fearlessness.”

“Overcome inner desire and fear? Priest Pete, you’re right—we’ve already slowed the dissolving of our flesh by reducing our fear of death. If we fully overcome it, we might truly escape this illusion,” Zhang Zhixiong realized at once.

“Desirelessness and fearlessness?” Zhang Lei’s face grew thoughtful, his expression darkening.

It was difficult.

He had experienced such deep illusions—beauties luring the heart, dragging one into oblivion. To see beauty as white bones, to conquer inner desire, was nearly impossible.

But Li Yi’s reminder, combined with Pete’s explanation, at least gave them one path.

“No matter what, we have to try—it’s better than sitting here waiting to die,” muttered another investigator nearby, gritting his teeth.

“Don’t rush—if you get trapped and can’t overcome desire and fear, you’ll die,” Zhang Lei glanced at him.

Li Yi now said: “I know this method is extremely hard, but I have another, cleverer approach—I haven’t tried it yet. I need to test it first. If it works, I’ll tell you all and help you escape. If not, keep trying the first method.”

“A second method?” Priest Pete was startled.

“Enough talk—time is running out. I’m starting now. Every extra minute here increases the danger.”

Li Yi offered no further explanation. He immediately stepped before the white bone mural and sat down.

The moment he sat, he mimicked the skeleton in the mural—hands forming a sacred seal, expression serene, like a Buddha.

“Li Yi, be careful. If you need help, speak up—don’t hold back,” Zhang Lei said gravely, offering encouragement to the newcomer.

“Understood.”

Li Yi responded, then fixed his gaze on the mural again—his eyes met the hollow sockets of the skeleton.

Slowly, that strange sensation returned.

Everything around him vanished, turning white and formless—only the wall remained. Soon, even the wall disappeared, leaving only a skeleton seated cross-legged on a lotus platform, hands forming the sacred seal.

The skeleton remained motionless until a sheer veil of fabric appeared out of nowhere—then the transformation began.

Flesh began sprouting from the skeleton, reshaping its face according to the deepest desires of the observer, irresistible, tempting voluntary downfall.

“White Bone Grows Flesh Technique.”

Li Yi seized the opportunity, beginning his visualization—imagining the white bone as himself, to shatter desire and fear.

The difficulty was greatly reduced.

He had to admit—the resentful spirit trapped in the broken coin was remarkably learned, knowing such a method.

Li Yi unified his mind, entering his favored realm of imagination.

Quickly.

Results appeared.

The white bone had once transformed into a seductive beauty—but now, disrupted by his visualization, it bore only grotesque flesh, like a demon from hell, never becoming a woman. Meanwhile, Li Yi’s own flesh began dissolving at a visible rate.

He observed the white bone growing flesh; the white bone observed Li Yi’s flesh turning to bone.

This clever trick carried its own risk.

“Damn, you think you can outdo me in imagination? Do you really think I’m afraid of you?” Li Yi intensified his visualization.

The white bone continued growing flesh—skin formed, a human shape emerged, yet its features remained blurred, unrecognizable. But it was clear: this body was not female—it was genderless, shifting between voluptuous allure and muscular bulk.

Li Yi’s flesh continued dissolving.

To survive, he had to visualize the white bone as himself before his own body turned entirely to bone—or he would die horribly.

Within the illusion, Li Yi’s will was immensely strong.

After a brief struggle, the white bone seated on the lotus began to retreat—it could no longer transform into a woman to deceive him. Instead, it was fully influenced by Li Yi, shifting entirely into the form of a man, its features gradually emerging—imperfect, but unmistakably Li Yi’s likeness.

The white bone became Li Yi.

Li Yi gradually became white bone.

They seemed to exchange places.

As time passed, the white bone’s version of Li Yi became more truly him than Li Yi himself—his form perfected naturally: face, hands, limbs, body—all harmoniously complete, not by Li Yi’s control, but as if by spontaneous evolution.

Nearly a skeleton now, Li Yi gazed at his own form on the lotus, stunned.

The Li Yi on the lotus sat with hands forming the sacred seal, eyes closed, serene, smiling—as if enlightened, like a god or awakened Buddha, having attained the ultimate perfection and completeness, no longer of this world.

In that moment, Li Yi felt the figure on the lotus was his true self—he himself was not.

Seeing your true self—why not awaken?

Then, a low shout echoed in his mind, like a thunderclap.

Suddenly—

Li Yi, now utterly without flesh, reached his limit. His skeleton collapsed into a pile of dry bones. Yet the Li Yi on the lotus—fleshed, perfect, hands forming the sacred seal—suddenly opened his eyes.

At the same moment—

Li Yi in reality opened his eyes.

He had escaped the illusion.

“I’m back.”

Li Yi could hardly believe it—he looked at his hands. No longer skeletal, they were flesh and blood.

He glanced beside him.

Liu Yue, Wang Jian, and Chen Hao remained motionless, as if soulless—their consciousness still trapped in the illusion.

“How long was I trapped?” He checked the time and estimated.

Only a few minutes had passed since he was pulled into the illusion.

Fortunately, no danger had arisen nearby—if it had, it would have been disastrous.

“Li Yi, you’re awake!”

Suddenly, a delighted voice rang out from outside the building—Zheng Gong hurried over, excited.

“Stop! Don’t come near this building!”

Li Yi immediately halted Zheng Gong’s reckless advance.

In his vision, a hazy aura enveloped the entire building, already spreading over five meters beyond its walls.

That hazy aura resembled the energy field of a strange artifact—but Li Yi had a gut feeling: it was the range of influence of the white bone mural.

And he saw that, as time passed, the aura’s influence continued expanding outward.

This was bizarre.

Could the illusion’s range grow?

Though he didn’t understand, Zheng Gong abruptly stopped, refusing to approach further.

“Step back more—this building’s danger zone keeps expanding. It’s almost at your feet,” Li Yi said again.

“What? I see nothing at all?”

Zheng Gong’s face changed, stepping back again.

His words suddenly jolted Li Yi.

When had his eyes gained the ability to see the white bone mural’s influence?

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“My cultivation hasn’t improved—but my medium vision has grown significantly. Is this linked to my experience in the illusion? Or did escaping it trigger some transformation?”

Li Yi’s eyes flickered; a thought surfaced in his mind.