Chapter 397: The Eight Double-Pupiled Ones

He tried grabbing a few times, but no matter what, he couldn't catch anything.

Kamikawa Mitsu wasn't surprised by this. These meteor lights were indeed the information to be obtained, but no matter what, they belonged to the dead, so the information left behind couldn't be perfectly preserved—there were gaps.

The Sacrificial Lord's ability was very BUG, but it wasn't omnipotent; it had some limitations.

There were two limitations in total.

First, to obtain information from someone stronger than oneself, the other party had to be dead.

Second, obtaining information required grabbing the meteor lights. Some of these meteor lights were false—information that could no longer be preserved, already lost—while some were still preserved.

And these preserved meteor lights were difficult to grab; what one had to catch was the white dot within the meteor light.

Every meteor light was like the moon's reflection in water—not real. The truly real part was only one tiny dot.

In other words.

For every meteor light Kamikawa Mitsu grabbed, what he needed to catch was a small white dot within the long streak of light.

"There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world. Getting something for nothing is impossible; it requires some physical work, some skilled work."

Muttering to himself, Kamikawa Mitsu reached out again to grab the meteor lights.

Once, twice, three times, four times… ten times, a hundred times, two hundred times, a thousand times…

He grabbed a full thousand times and gained nothing.

Either he caught false ones, or he couldn't catch the small white dot.

These meteor lights moved far too fast.

If the Sacrificial Lord were here, he would surely be helpless, for no other reason than the speed of the meteor lights.

As the wielder of this ability, the Sacrificial Lord knew: the stronger the one being obtained from, the faster the meteor lights, and the harder they were to catch.

The Sacrificial Lord was only at the second step of Divine Being; catching the meteor lights of an Immortal corpse was, in his eyes, like a human trying to catch the speed of light. How could he catch them? He could only leave it to fate.

Kamikawa Mitsu's consciousness let out a breath.

Not discouraged, he observed the meteor lights for a moment and continued grabbing.

Finally, on the one hundred and three thousand one hundred and eighty-seventh attempt, Kamikawa Mitsu finally caught the small white dot of a meteor light!

"Caught it!"

Kamikawa Mitsu was overjoyed, but the small white dot in his hand didn't wait for him to finish being happy—it erupted with towering white light, shrouding this consciousness space, and his own consciousness body felt as if it were being melted and covered by the white light.

The small white dot was information—unconscious, without spirit—it couldn't possibly wait for Kamikawa Mitsu to finish being happy before delivering the information within the small white dot.

The instant it was touched, the information of the small white dot was received by Kamikawa Mitsu.

In an instant.

The white light dispersed.

Kamikawa Mitsu opened his eyes, and what met his gaze was no longer the meteor light space, but a vast expanse of land.

This land did not possess the vastness, grandeur, majesty, and sweeping momentum of the kind of expansive land he had shaped; it only had the sense of a hundred things waiting to be rebuilt after enduring disaster.

As if.

This land had gone through catastrophe after catastrophe that overturned heaven and earth, yet even so, the land never appeared barren or broken—it had the waiting-to-rebuild quality, the spring wind that blows again after a prairie fire.

Radiating tenacity.

Among them, one place was the most resplendent—palaces stood tall, with carved beams and painted rafters; rare birds perched on rooftops singing long, and auspicious beasts crouched guarding the gates.

The surrounding lands were picturesque, with flying waterfalls and flowing springs, so beautiful it was startling, making one linger and forget to leave.

Compared to the macroscopic scenery of this land, this place was like the only pure land in Pandora's box—the box filled with darkness, yet always containing a touch of bright pure land.

Many people lived here.

They were identical to humans, perhaps they were humans.

The smaller children were at play, their silvery laughter full of joy; the older children stood in rows, practicing martial arts, cultivating techniques that even the gods, demons, immortals, and devils of the Eternal Star Realm would be greedy for and marvel over.

Kamikawa Mitsu's gaze landed on one of the martial-practicing children.

Perhaps he was no different from the other martial-practicing children; the only difference was that his eyes were double pupils.

Presumably, he was the true form of the Immortal corpse.

Although his future was that of an Immortal existence, right now he was still a child, with a child's innocence and playful nature—not properly practicing martial arts, always wanting to play, getting his palms smacked by his instructors every day.

He and the other children seemed unaware of the disputes outside and the waiting-to-rebuild state, living in this carefree pure land.

"Not Cangjie."

Kamikawa Mitsu saw the double-pupiled child misbehaving during martial arts practice, getting his palms smacked by the instructor, being punished to stand for one hour, and then going with the other children to a palace brimming with scholarly atmosphere.

It was simply a paradise of books.

This palace housed more books than even the North Beijing Library of Hua Country—row upon row, layer upon layer, stacked higher than buildings. Tens of millions of books? He didn't know, couldn't count, too many.

The children sat before the palace's great hall, holding bamboo-slip-like books and studying.

The double-pupiled child reading books and learning characters—without a doubt, he was not Cangjie.

One must know, Cangjie was the one who created writing; how could he possibly be reading books and learning to write characters?

It could be confirmed: the true form of the Immortal corpse was not Cangjie.

"Throughout ancient and modern times, it seems there have been many double-pupiled ones."

Having ruled out that the other party was not Cangjie, Kamikawa Mitsu did not give up on exploring his identity.

Double pupils were hailed as a symbol of sages.

If the Immortal corpse was an ancient of Hua Country, then he should be one of the double-pupiled ones passed down through history.

According to Hua Country's historical records, Cangjie was not the only double-pupiled one; there were others who also had double pupils.

Counting Cangjie, there were eight double-pupiled ones in total.

They were: Cangjie, Yu Shun, Chong'er, Xiang Yu, Lü Guang, Gao Yang, Yu Juluo, Li Yu.

Cangjie was the sage of character creation from the era of the Yellow Emperor.

Yu Shun was a sage of abdication, a sage of filial piety, and one of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors.

Duke Wen of Jin, Chong'er, was one of the Five Hegemons of the Spring and Autumn period.

Xiang Yu was the unparalleled "Overlord of Western Chu."

Lü Guang was the king of Later Liang during the Sixteen Kingdoms period, who swept across the Western Regions.

Gao Yang was the founder of Northern Qi.

Yu Jiluo was said to have used strategy to ambush and kill the mighty general Li Yuanbao, a famed general of the Sui dynasty.

Li Yu was the last ruler of Southern Tang during the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, a renowned poet and literary figure.

"Excluding Cangjie, which of the remaining seven was it?"

As Shangchuan Zun pondered, his heart trembled—if these truly were the double-pupiled figures from Chinese history, did that mean Earth had once truly existed in an age of gods and demons?

"Qianhui is the Open-Mouthed One—could it be I'm a prophet too? Playing along, and now it's actually coming true..."

He was still thinking.

The children finished their lesson and class was dismissed.

Under Shangchuan Zun's gaze, the double-pupiled child who had been listless in class suddenly became energized at dismissal, like a wild horse freed from its reins—shedding his lethargy, he dashed joyfully out of the Book Hall.

This sight made Shangchuan Zun smile.

When he was in school, he had been the same—before and after class, two different people.

From this, he could judge that the double-pupiled child was likely a poor student.

Shangchuan Zun stepped out of the Book Hall, followed the double-pupiled child, and continued watching—then, there was no more.

The moment the double-pupiled child burst out of the Book Hall and rushed into the arms of a middle-aged man, the earlier Bai Mang flared brightly, engulfing the place.

When Shangchuan Zun opened his eyes again, he was back in the meteor-light space.