Chapter 54: Phantom Heart Sword

More black shadows slithered out of the vent; Zhang Jun stepped back while cursing, "Did that purple‑robed brat bring the haunted house from the amusement park here?" His back slammed into an ice wall, and the cold pierced the gaps in his bones.

A lone figure flashed in the icy reflection, and Zhang Jun's hair stood on end: "What the hell!"

Lin Yuehua drifted out of the shadows, his combat suit encrusted with ice shards. Lin Xue froze—her mother's earlobe bore a purple stud that matched the barcode on the cyborg's neck.

"Follow me." Lin Yuehua said, his fingernails tinged blue, his grip like a tiger's jaws.

Zhang Jun just sliced through two chasing cyborgs when an icicle at the vent slit his pant leg: "Auntie, your cosplay is pretty unique."

As they passed through the vent, Lin Xue's knee pad sparked. A voice from ahead—her mother's—drifted, "Your father buried twenty‑seven bombs here back then…"

"You could at least give…" Zhang Jun slammed his head into the suddenly halted Lin Yuehua, his nose nearly crushed flat.

The machines in the sealed room moved like metal spiders; the purple‑robed man turned in an instant, and Zhang Jun almost crushed the sword hilt—he recognized that face from every family photo each weekend.

"Surprised?" the purple‑robed man lifted his hood, revealing Lin Zhen's distinctive forehead line, "Last week's braised pork was still to your taste, right?"

Lin Xue hurled an ice spear through the hologram: "My dad is allergic to peanuts."

The fake Lin Zhen's mechanical fingers tapped the console, and the keys glowed an eerie purple: "Why don't you destroy the lab…"

"Stop spouting nonsense!" Zhang Jun suddenly drove his sword into a floor crack, "You really think I haven't seen a clone?"

Beneath the metal plate lifted by the sword qi, the experiment log was self‑igniting. As the fake Lin Zhen sprang a blade, Zhang Jun caught a glimpse of Lin Yuehua's earring emitting purple light: "Watch out!"

Two strands of purple light skimmed past his hair as Lin Yuehua lunged. Amid a muffled grunt, Zhang Jun felt his hands coated with ice shards mixed with purple slime.

"Cryogenic chamber…" Lin Yuehua drew a crooked heart in Lin Xue's palm, exactly like the one from a three‑year‑old's doodle book.

The fake Lin Zhen suddenly froze: "Program error… parent‑child protocol conflict…"

Zhang Jun swung a steel pipe into the machine's vent: "Go eat shit, tin‑shell turtle!" A spark of electricity flashed a 【Mother‑Command Priority】 prompt.

"Let's go…" Lin Yuehua, frozen into an ice statue, slammed into the console. The blast wave froze Zhang Jun's eyelashes, and the sound of cracking ice sounded like a cry.

Zhang Jun's eyelids twitched, and a sting of disinfectant mixed with a burnt smell filled his nostrils. Lin Xue yanked his collar, her fingernail digging into his collarbone, making it ache.

"Stop playing dead!" Lin Xue slapped the back of his neck, "That ice‑fire combo just now hasn't even collected the tuition yet!"

He sprang up violently, his occiput cracking against a metal hatch with a clang. On his retina lingered the carved windows of the Lin family ancestral house, and in an instant he faced sparking wires inside the vent. Lin Xue's combat suit shoulder split open, and ice shards were crawling out through the tear.

"Seeing ghosts?" she fished out half a compressed biscuit and broke it, "It just froze suddenly like after taking a drug."

Zhang Jun snatched the biscuit and bit down hard, crumbs falling into his collar, "I dreamed we met again, and you forced me to be your sidekick."

"Bullshit!" Lin Xue kicked a nearby metal piece, "You were caught red‑handed stealing my strawberry cake."

The vent shuddered, and a muffled gear grind echoed from afar. Zhang Jun felt a heated jade pendant in his pocket, its blue glow casting a crooked arrow on the pipe wall. Lin Xue suddenly grabbed his ear: "We have to… wait until we get out… the mess Wang laotou left behind…"

Memory suddenly slashed into his brain. Wang Jun's blood‑veined eyes flickered before him, and the heat wave from a mechanical arm sweeping past his throat seemed to still scorch his face. Zhang Jun's Adam's apple twitched, and the back of his combat suit stuck sticky to his skin.

"The old man's final words were about Dragon Mountain Cave…"

"Southeast, at three o'clock direction," Lin Xue suddenly drove an ice spear into a pipe crevice, "Coordinates we just cracked twenty seconds ago."

A salty sea breeze blew through the vent opening; Zhang Jun peered through the crack and saw five mechs dismantling a building for fun. He pulled a half‑pack of spicy sticks from his neck, "Wanna bet? Those tin cans are probably a souvenir from Xiao Lin."

"Save your strength for the purple‑robed guy," Lin Xue froze, "Wait, you just said Wang laotou altered the Palm Wind…"

A sharp metallic tearing sound rang in his ears. Zhang Jun hauled her as they dove into the lab ruins, and the three‑meter‑thick concrete wall behind them was blown to rubble. Wang Jun's phantom floated amid the smoke, his mechanical fingers clutching a familiar sandalwood pipe.

"Where is the master's treasure…"

"Careful!" Lin Xue suddenly pressed his head into a pile of broken stone. A purple arc flashed across his scalp, burning a through‑hole eye onto the cultivation chamber glass.

Wang Jun's phantom suddenly flashed in front, a purple glow in its palm reflecting the blood vessels in Zhang Jun's pupils. Amid the creaking of mechanical joints, a mosquito‑like hum whispered, "Sink… hidden compartment…"

"What the heck?" Zhang Jun's sword, which he had just swung, halted mid‑air.

The phantom burst into countless floating lights. Lin Xue kicked the smoking console aside and rummaged a half‑torn experiment log from the wreckage. On the yellowed pages, Wang Jun's scrawl read: "Lao Shan Cola, third case."

Zhang Jun suddenly laughed, "The old man's trick of hiding Moutai?"

"Are you losing it?" Lin Xue crouched and poked Zhang Jun's shoulder, "You fell straight down like a board pressed on a coffin."

Zhang Jun sprang up, slamming a half‑brick away, his back burning with pain. The lab's mildew mingled with a metallic scent invaded his nostrils—there was no scent of Kunlun Mountain cedar at all.

"Did a mushroom grow on my face?" he brushed away Lin Xue's outstretched hand, "Just now…"

"Just now you raised your sword to slash the air, shouting 'Master, spare me'" Lin Xue picked up a half‑broken test tube, "You almost cut off the tip of my hair."

A clatter of gears echoed from the shadows. Zhang Jun reached for his waist but found nothing; the Heavenly Man Sword was still lodged in the rusted cultivation chamber, humming with vibration. A purple scar had appeared on the hilt at some point, the same hue as the fluorescent pen knocked over at the convenience store last week.

"Even ghosts avoid this dump," he drew the sword and brushed it along his pant leg, "You just mentioned… Wang laotou?"

Lin Xue suddenly pinched his web between thumb and forefinger: "Don't move!"

Ice crystals skimmed his earlobe and pierced a writhing purple tumor on the wall. The slime splattered onto his combat boots, hissing, and Zhang Jun smelled his hair burning.

"Southeast corner!" Lin Xue hauled him into the vent, the corroded metal skin flapping his tactical suit with a squeak. Twenty‑seven surveillance probes swiveled in unison, red dots weaving a net over them.

Zhang Jun froze. The tar scent of the sandalwood pipe mingled with blood, rising toward the skylight; he'd smelled it in the morgue three times—each when retrieving Wang Jun's body.

"Sink…" the voice behind him made his hair stand on end, "the third tile…"

Lin Xue flicked an ice spear backward: "Playing tricks!"

The ice spear pierced the phantom and lodged into the distribution box; amid the exploding sparks a translucent figure emerged. Zhang Jun almost crushed the sword hilt—Wang Jun's mechanical right eye flashed a familiar malfunctioning blue light.