Chapter 141

After running several thousand li in one breath, Zhou Shuo finally exhaled. In the heart of the Great Qian Dynasty, dealing with Hong Xuanji and Dao-Saint Gongyang Yu, who wore the Imperial Heaven Primordial Dragon Armor, was no easy task, especially with countless other experts lurking nearby, like the Great Zhou Taizu, Yang Pan, and possibly the Dream God Machine.

Facing Hong Xuanji alone, Zhou Shuo felt no shame toward him; even though the opponent wore the Imperial Heaven Primordial Dragon Armor, there were too many eyes on Jade Dragon Mountain, leaving him somewhat overwhelmed. Even if he had entertained thoughts of killing the champion candidate, he never acted on them, because the opponent's status was truly special.

The champion candidate Yang An was the commander of the Great Qian's western border defense forces guarding Yunmeng; on Jade Dragon Mountain, if Zhou Shuo harbored killing intent toward him, he would surely be annihilated by the forces of those nearby, whether the Great Zhou Taizu or the hidden experts, who would have no qualms about profiting from his corpse—those experts are nothing but a pack of carrion vultures.

"Damn, the stronger I feel, the more inadequate it seems; when human limits are reached, it's not enough—I need to top up again, and now I must start trying to repair the transit space." After stopping, Zhou Shuo summoned a crimson‑gold gate from the air.

In the vast dark space, three doors, more or less cracked, stood opposite each other. Zhou Shuo looked at the three doors, finally fixing his gaze on the one most severely damaged in the alien world, observing its cracks.

"Holy shit, how do I fix this?!" Zhou Shuo stared at the alien world's door, almost falling apart, and couldn't help but curl his mouth.

Although there was no good way to repair it, he still had to grit his teeth and press on. Zhou Shuo clenched his teeth, sat down in the space, took a slight breath, mobilized all his spirit, controlled his primordial qi, and injected it into the badly shattered alien world's door, hoping to try repairing it with artifact forging and object manipulation.

Zhou Shuo's idea was not bad—forging artifacts is the foundation of creation—but pouring primordial qi into the alien world's door was like a clay ox sinking into the sea; however, at the instant the true qi vanished, his focused spirit let him glimpse a faint phantom.

Fragments, shards like broken glass, were the wounds left when the space was shattered. After emerging from the illusion, Zhou Shuo immediately changed his approach, trying to use his primordial spirit to sense the entire space.

In an instant, what appeared before Zhou Shuo's eyes was no longer an endless black void, but a house floating in chaos; the three open doors might better be called windows, while outside the house's door lay only chaos.

"If the windows lead to other worlds, then what lies behind the door should be reality, and what is this independent space?" Zhou Shuo observed, via his primordial spirit, the three windows—crimson‑gold, azure‑black, and black‑white—and the chaotic door behind him, an impassable chaotic gate, and fell into some contemplation.

What is the existence of the transit space—a boundary between fantasy and reality, or perhaps a nexus of spacetime? Why did it end up in my hands? What kind of existence are the worlds I have experienced? Are they merely simple manifestations? And what do my experiences amount to?

After barely a moment, Zhou Shuo banished all those thoughts from his mind; he didn't know the answers to those questions, but rather than waste time pondering, he would confront what was before him, increase his strength, and find the way home.

He dared not enter the gate to chaos, while the three passages to the alien worlds each showed fragments to varying degrees—destruction wrought by the demon god Chiyou of the Qin-era world, a place whose average power is low, yet it harbors such horror.

Zhou Shuo tried directly channeling his primordial spirit's qi into the black‑white passage window of the alien world, attempting to control and transform objects; this time it succeeded greatly—the infusion of qi gave the black‑white window a sense of 'self‑awareness,' after which it slowly repaired itself.

At the instant the final seam closed, Zhou Shuo felt countless images flash through his heart—visions of innumerable strange worlds that stirred his imagination—but fortunately, having once experienced a quantum journey, his primordial spirit swiftly retracted back into his body.

"So that's where my spending pays off: the three window passages don't correspond to just three worlds, but to countless worlds, as if this space would answer my summons wherever I am." After his primordial spirit returned to his body, Zhou Shuo instantly understood the reason and stepped forward, using his flesh to pour primordial qi into the black‑white window.

This time, the alien world's black‑white window unreservedly accepted Zhou Shuo's primordial qi; following his consciousness, the black and white began to twist and transform, gradually shifting into new colors—black, white, red, orange, green—five hues intertwining.

As the five colors were applied, Zhou Shuo's vision also showed flickering scenes: in a huge pit, a barbarian clad in animal skins sat huddled, while above the pit a noble man looked down, his lips moving slightly as he spoke. In the past Zhou Shuo would not have understood, but having opened his two clever apertures, he could now 'hear' the meaning through lip movements and expression.

"Wu Hua, you conspired with Chiyou, wielding the Xuanxuan to topple the heavenly pillar, causing all living beings to suffer; but considering your ignorance and your father's earnest plea, I have imprisoned you for three years and five months, and now I release you to return to your country, hoping you will behave well hereafter." The nobleman spoke from above; upon finishing, the image vanished instantly.

The vanished image was replaced by another scene: a vast world formed by six doors, within which a mass of black‑red shadow expanded and contracted; outside the six‑sided world stood a strangely ancient‑looking Daoist, his eyebrows hanging straight to his cheeks, gazing into the six‑door world and speaking.

"Junior brother, you still refuse to turn back; my cultivation is already complete, and for your sake I have endured countless twists, delaying your ascension by a sixty‑year cycle. Now our affinity is exhausted; I have ascended, and I have brought you here, having done my utmost. If you are willing to turn back, you may diligently study our sect's heart method for three hundred sixty‑five years here; then the calamities will dissolve on their own, and when you leave the mountain you will complete the hundred thousand merits I have allotted for us, and we shall meet again. If you persist in obstinacy and refuse to repent, leaving seclusion early will bring your sins to overflow; within three days both body and spirit will be destroyed. May you take care of yourself."

As his words fell, the vast world formed by the six doors, with a wave of the long‑eyebrow Daoist's hand, instantly fell like a meteor into a snowy mountain, vanished into a hidden space; the scene cleared at once, and Zhou Shuo awoke.

"Wu Hua, Long‑eyebrow Daoist!" Zhou Shuo felt as if he had just dreamed; looking at the five‑colored gates before him, he could hardly tell dream from reality, but once his thoughts were sorted, the memory returned instantly.

"The Legend of the Shu Mountain Sword Hero—yeah, this is indeed an excellent place to spend money." As a former code slave, Zhou Shuo, while not omniscient about every anime world, could generally tell from context; the world where Wu Hua and the Long‑eyebrow Daoist appear together is precisely the Legend of the Shu Mountain Sword Hero, truly a good spot to splurge.

"Should we repair the other two doors first before going adventuring?" Zhou Shuo, thinking about his spending plan, glanced at the other two windows and immediately shook his head, dismissing the idea.

"Damn it, first I'll spend money; spatial matters are weird enough—once I raise my cultivation to the immortal‑god level, I can safely repair the space and find the way home." Zhou Shuo took a slight breath, reached out and pushed open the five‑colored gate, then stepped through. He was still too weak; performing such space‑repair work was truly dangerous, and even with good luck he'd only have a slim chance.

"Ah!" As Zhou Shuo stepped out, he instantly felt the air rush wildly into his mouth; his whole body plummeted from a high altitude—the gate had opened in the ninth heaven.

"Mmm‑maa…" Zhou Shuo cursed at the approaching land and mountains while enduring the nearly suffocating airflow, then held his breath, expelled sword light from every pore, forming a humanoid glow that hovered urgently in midair, then turned into a meteoric streak that shot back up, flying toward the northern mountain range.

"Damn, where did I drop? That nearly scared me to death." Zhou Shuo glanced at the sun overhead, then lowered his gaze to the mountains ahead, pressed his sword light downward, first circling left and right over the peaks, scanning the terrain for any distinctive buildings to determine his location; judging by the mountain shapes alone he was simply unable.

The vegetation on the peaks was sparse, most rocks bare, giving the mountains a majestic yet rugged appearance. Zhou Shuo directed his sword light downward, turning it into a meteor that raced along the mountain streams' water channels, tracing the flow to seek a waterfall, but before he could climb up, a crimson sword light flew from the mountains and blocked him.

"Who dares barge into the Purple Gold Rapids? Don't you know this is where Master Xiaoyue resides?" Accompanying the crimson sword light shot from the mountain was a loud shout; to Zhou Shuo's ears, the voice carried a faint wheeze, suggesting the speaker had a lung problem.

"I am Zhou Shuo, recently trained in the sword‑control method; I rashly intruded upon your premises—please forgive me." Hearing the voice, Zhou Shuo replied aloud while his mind raced: Xiaoyue—this person seems familiar, the heretical sect leader who fought at Ciyun Temple the first time, and he seemed to be from Emei as well!

"... Since it was an unintentional intrusion, I won't blame you; please leave at once and do not disturb my master's meditation." The opposite voice fell silent for a moment, then responded with a hushed tone tinged with a breathy edge, urging Zhou Shuo to hurry away.

"Sir, may I ask your esteemed name? I wonder if I might have the chance to meet Master Xiaoyue." Zhou Shuo listened to the pause in the wheezing voice and the urging to leave, pondered for two seconds, and made a decision: if possible, he hoped to become a disciple of Xiaoyue.