Chapter 110: This Is What an Immortal Really Is!

In an endless world, everything was filled with pure white.

Howling winds swept through blizzards, roaring across this snow-white expanse.

Soft new snow had already buried his knees, with harder, ice-like layers beneath.

The surrounding temperature had dropped to a level unbearable for humans; not a single living thing could be seen within a hundred li.

On the flat snowplain stretched an infinite, unchanging expanse of white, broken only by the rolling snow mounds—the sole variation in this boundless white expanse.

As the terrain grew more complex, a towering snow-capped mountain suddenly rose from the ground.

On the southern face of the mountain stood a wide, endless staircase leading to the heavens.

At the foot of the stairs, a similarly white figure crouched, idly tracing the stone steps with his fingers.

“Whoosh—”

The howling blizzard surged from all directions, yet halted and melted three inches from the white-clad youth’s body.

“No wonder the original story said the temple only appeared after the Long Night—it’s running low on power and needs sunlight!”

The youth stood up, revealing a young, handsome face, muttering to himself with interest: “This stone staircase is essentially a more efficient solar panel—no wonder it had to be built so long…”

With that, he lifted his gaze toward the faint structure at the staircase’s summit.

The next instant, his form was swallowed by silver light, reappearing at the staircase’s end in the blink of an eye.

Thus, the temple—the most mysterious place in this world—lay bare before him.

It was an awe-inspiring temple: beneath its long, pale-gray eaves rose towering black stone walls, as eternal and unyielding as primordial ice, stretching before Lin Yu.

At the center of the stone wall stood a brown door seven zhang tall.

Above the door hung a weathered plaque.

The faded characters on the plaque could still be discerned—bilingual: “Military Museum…”

Yes, the so-called temple was in fact a military museum left behind by the previous civilization.

In the world of The Legend of Qiongyu, modern human civilization had been destroyed by nuclear war; only the temple survived, using its preserved cutting-edge technology to guide the new humans adapted to radiation into restarting civilization.

In the original story, this door and the entire temple seemed to possess some form of spatial technology.

Ordinary pilgrims, no matter how hard they tried, could never touch the door.

But now, before Lin Yu, the temple had lost its former mystique.

Lin Yu simply walked up to the door, raised his hand, and gently pushed—easily opening the brown door that for decades had been untouchable even by Ku He and Xiao En.

“Creeeak—”

The door slowly swung open, scraping through the accumulated snow.

Lin Yu stepped forward, expression calm, and entered the temple.

Before him stretched a vast, enormous square.

Around the square scattered numerous temple-like buildings, all tall, yet hidden from view by the outer stone walls, rendering them invisible to anyone outside.

Lin Yu observed the temple’s interior with interest.

As he looked, he suddenly frowned and said softly: “Still haven’t noticed?”

“With your technology, you couldn’t possibly read my brainwaves—or disrupt my sense of direction…”

Ever since discovering the brainwave deception behind Wu Zhu, Lin Yu had realized the truth about the so-called spatial technology.

The temple’s technology had nothing to do with space—it merely read and influenced human brainwaves, manipulating all senses to induce disorientation and trap them in a mental labyrinth resembling illusion.

The moment Lin Yu reached the staircase’s end, he had sensed the temple’s interference.

But unfortunately, this level of interference could not affect his mind—he had been able to open the door so easily, and enter this so-called temple…

When he finished speaking, the temple gave no response.

Looking at the motionless buildings around him, Lin Yu shook his head and walked further inside.

As he passed a raised platform dusted with thin snow, a faint glow suddenly erupted from beneath it, striking Lin Yu’s neck with a speed too swift for ordinary eyes to catch.

“Clang—”

With a long, resonant hum, the black iron spike struck an invisible barrier.

Lin Yu stopped, turned calmly around.

The surrounding blizzard surged violently, forming thin streams that bound the black iron spike and its gray-clad wielder midair.

To the eye, the wind-formed ropes were no thicker than a finger.

Yet the gray-clad man could not break free, no matter how hard he struggled.

Lin Yu studied the gray-clad man closely and noticed his aura bore a striking resemblance to Wu Zhu’s.

Even bound by incomprehensible means, his cold face showed no expression; his black eyes remained like ice that had never melted for a thousand years, untouched by any emotion.

“This must be the last temple emissary.”

Lin Yu regarded the gray-clad man with interest.

In the original story, this man would soon head south to the Kingdom of Qing, ordered by the temple to eliminate the lingering influence of Ye Qingmei, and ultimately die in battle against Wu Zhu, who sought to protect Fan Xian.

But Lin Yu had arrived too early—the temple still knew nothing of Fan Xian’s existence.

This emissary had not yet traveled south and remained inside the temple.

“The last intelligent android, aside from Wu Zhu…”

Lin Yu smirked slightly. “He’s mine now!”

With a wave of his hand, he unceremoniously claimed this gift the temple had prepared especially for him.

Perhaps because the last intelligent android had vanished, or perhaps because Lin Yu’s methods were beyond the temple’s comprehension—

In any case, after the final emissary mysteriously disappeared, the temple finally reacted.

Instantly, countless specks of light rained from the sky, like bright snowflakes, converging in midair.

Gradually, a figure coalesced on the platform before Lin Yu, becoming clearer—

An old man in ancient robes with wide sleeves, embroidered with flowing cloud patterns, a black-gold jade belt at his waist.

His ornate slippers hovered three inches above the platform, as if he were a legendary immortal, standing in midair, ready to ride the wind away.

Moreover, a faint blue glow veiled the old man’s face.

To anyone else, this spectacle would seem like a true immortal descending from heaven—prompting instant worship.

But unfortunately, the white-clad youth standing before him was a terrifying entity far beyond human comprehension.

Not even this fake cyber-immortal, let alone a real immortal, could stir the slightest ripple!

Because the old man’s pretentious entrance was so absurd, Lin Yu refrained from interrupting him, instead watching with interest to see how he would perform.

The old man appeared, hovered in midair for several seconds, then lowered his head, gazing down at Lin Yu with a calm voice:

“The divine path is dim, the Great Dao declines; wandering on divergent paths, all point to mountains and rivers; wrath stirs wind and clouds, ambition secures the state, thus…”

The old man recited a long, ornate, archaic passage—its core message simple: to deceive Lin Yu into becoming the new temple emissary, to walk the world and observe civilization.

Halfway through, Lin Yu recognized its source: Luo Binwang’s “Proclamation Against Wu Zetian!”

Realizing this, he felt a wave of disappointment.

This creature’s lines were just patched-together fragments—less creative than the AI he’d used in his past life. He wondered: was it algorithmic limitation, or was the temple running low on energy, activating a low-power mode?

If the latter, fine. But if the former, then this artificial intelligence’s value had to be downgraded…

The old man continued reciting; Lin Yu had no patience to listen further.

He looked up at the old man and said calmly: “Enough.”

“Do you think your little holographic trick qualifies you as an immortal?”

“Let this True Immortal teach you a lesson!”

Before he finished speaking, the surrounding blizzard surged violently, swirling like a storm of shattered jade and snowflakes, spinning wildly around Lin Yu’s body.

The rushing cold winds, laden with sharp ice crystals, formed spiraling vortices that exploded outward in all directions.

In an instant, the entire temple was swallowed by this sudden, furious blizzard.

The temple’s built-in climate-control system strained to its limit, yet could not affect the snow and wind a single bit—helplessly watching them swell into a colossal snowstorm tornado, hurling every object in the courtyard into the sky.

Yet within this raging blizzard, the beautiful, immortal-like white-clad youth remained utterly unmoved.

He stood still, wind and snow swirling around him, gazing calmly at the old man:

“See that?”

“This is what an immortal truly is!”

(End of Chapter)