Chapter 80: Replication

“Big brother, do you know my parents? I… I won’t suddenly disappear like that guy just now.” Wang Tiezhu suddenly stammered as he asked Wang Yu.

“I do know your parents, and even your older brother—I lived in Wangjia Village myself. Just call me Brother Wang. As for whether you’ll vanish like that man did, I need to ask you a few questions first before I can say.”

“So Brother Wang has been to Wangjia Village too? That’s wonderful! Ask me anything—I’ll answer honestly!” The boy’s face lit up with relief, as if he’d found a lifeline, and he patted his chest in earnest promise.

Helena stood quietly to the side, smiling without speaking.

“Tiezhu, do you remember how you ended up in that dark place just now?” Wang Yu immediately asked the question he cared about most.

“I’m not sure myself. I only remember falling asleep in my room, and when I woke up, I was already there.” Wang Tiezhu clearly had deep trauma from the dark space of the pod; at the mention of it, his face turned pale.

“Were you sleeping in your house in Wangjia Village?” Wang Yu frowned and asked again.

“No, I’ve been sleeping in a stone house lately.” Wang Tiezhu shook his head vigorously.

“A stone house? You mean the one on the cliff?” Wang Yu froze, then pressed further.

“Brother Wang, how did you know about that? That place is so strange—I clearly remember helping my parents till barren land in Wangjia Village, and then suddenly I was there.”

“The stone house was empty, and I was the only one living there. I didn’t dare wander around. When I was hungry or thirsty, I just ate the green pills that Uncle Gu brought.”

“Those pills were amazing—fragrant and delicious. Eating them just once every few days kept me from hunger or thirst.”

“I was afraid someone would steal them, so I hid all the green pills under my bed.”

“Oh, and Brother Wang, I think I’ve grown taller—I’m now taller than my older brother…” Wang Tiezhu spoke in a jumbled, disjointed way.

Wang Yu listened, growing more astonished by the moment, and finally interrupted the boy:

“Who is this ‘Uncle Gu’ you mentioned? Is he the man with half his hair red? What did he tell you?”

“Brother Wang, you know Uncle Gu too?”

“When I woke up in the stone house, I saw him. He said Grandmaster Li’s spell went wrong, damaging my soul and causing me to lose some memories. So Grandmaster Li gave me the status of an inner-disciple as compensation.”

“I didn’t understand what he meant, so I just agreed to everything.”

“Oh, for the first few days, he came every day to teach me the Fire Spirit Art. Every day, my body felt warm—it was fascinating. But later, he came less and less. The last time I saw him was six or seven days ago.” Wang Tiezhu recalled, speaking with clear affection for this “Uncle Gu.”

Wang Yu fell silent, utterly speechless.

At this point, he finally understood what had happened.

All this time, the one manipulating his body to cultivate had been this very Wang Tiezhu.

As the original owner of this body in the cultivation world, he had assumed the boy’s consciousness had been completely replaced and no longer existed. But now it was clear that wasn’t true.

When his own consciousness had been forcibly driven out by Grandmaster Li’s spell, Wang Tiezhu’s original consciousness had somehow reemerged from within the body.

And Grandmaster Li, seemingly unaware the body’s occupant had changed, believed his spell had failed, damaging the soul and causing memory loss—and had granted the boy inner-disciple status as compensation.

But from Wang Tiezhu’s account, Uncle Gu had treated him kindly—whether that was at Grandmaster Li’s instruction or out of Uncle Gu’s own goodwill remained unclear.

Wang Yu pondered this, his expression shifting between dark and light.

“Brother Wang… will I be okay?” Wang Tiezhu, seeing his expression, whispered nervously.

“Don’t worry—you’re probably fine. Stay here for now. I’ll find a way to bring you back to the world.” Wang Yu comforted the boy briefly.

He had always felt a twinge of guilt for taking over the boy’s body; if there was a chance to make amends, he wouldn’t hesitate to help.

“That’s great!”

At these words, Wang Tiezhu’s face relaxed with relief.

The golden-haired woman, who had been standing silently beside them, listened to their exchange, her expression subtly altered, and finally spoke again:

“Are you certain we can stay here indefinitely without danger?”

“Whether I’m certain or not, I’ll find out soon. Taiyuan, exit login interface.” Wang Yu spoke calmly, then suddenly shouted toward the massive screen.

The next instant, Wang Yu felt a flash of white light before he reappeared on the stone house’s bed.

He raised his hands, checked his body—no abnormalities. He closed his eyes and scanned his spirit sea with his spiritual sense—no anomalies at all. Only then did he exhale slowly, feeling slightly reassured.

He didn’t want to discover another consciousness secretly watching him from within his mind.

Wang Yu then reached beneath the bed and felt around—sure enough, he found a small wooden box. Inside were seven or eight green pills, their fragrance strong and sweet.

They looked like pills for abstaining from food.

Wang Yu’s mind instantly recalled the final pages of the book he’d read: *Introduction to Herbalism*, which depicted several practical pills.

He silently tucked the box into his storage pouch, then murmured, “Taiyuan, enter login interface.”

Amid a flash of white light, Wang Yu reappeared in the silver hall.

The golden-haired woman and Wang Tiezhu were both still there.

“How long was I gone? Did you two stay here the whole time?” Wang Yu asked the golden-haired woman.

“We’ve both been here the entire time. You were gone for only one minute and thirty-six seconds.” The woman’s gaze flickered slightly, but she answered without hesitation.

The boy beside her nodded vigorously.

“So you can remain here indefinitely, and time flows at the same rate inside and out.” Wang Yu murmured.

“I can probably stay here forever, but this little one? Not so sure,” Helena sighed at this moment.

“What do you mean?” Wang Yu blinked, turning to the golden-haired woman.

Wang Tiezhu, hearing this, grew panicked again.

“Didn’t you notice? Boy, lift up your shirt.” The golden-haired woman turned to the boy and gave a direct order.

Wang Tiezhu hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Wang Yu.

Wang Yu frowned but nodded slightly.

The boy then pulled his shirt upward.

Wang Yu’s face turned pale as he saw the condition of the boy’s abdomen.

A blurry, gaping hole had appeared on the boy’s stomach—and it was rapidly expanding, visibly spreading outward.

“I’ve sensed his bodily energy draining for a while now. At first, it was slow, but lately it’s accelerated. He’ll vanish completely in about five or six minutes,” the golden-haired woman said calmly.

“What’s happening? You said he was an independent entity—why is he disappearing too?” Wang Yu instinctively clenched his fists, his voice sharp with shock and anger.

“He is an independent entity, yes—but the spiritual energy composing his body is identical to yours.”

“In my electromagnetic sensing, his energy is rapidly flowing into you—like two magnetic fields of the same polarity drawn close together: the stronger one absorbs all the energy from the weaker one.” The woman explained slowly, with a clear analogy.

“Brother Wang, save me!” Wang Tiezhu faintly understood, and seeing the growing hole on his own abdomen, cried out in desperation.

“What if I leave this place?” Wang Yu’s thoughts raced, and he asked quickly.

“Same result. I’ve observed—even when you left before, his energy kept draining. It’s impossible to stop.” Helena shook her head.

The boy’s face turned deathly pale.

“So you have no solution at all? Who was it that just told me he was of great use to me?” Wang Yu glanced coldly at the golden-haired woman.

“Who said I have no solution? In a certain sense, I can save him. Didn’t you forget my ability?” Helena smiled lightly, raising one hand—lightning crackled between her fingers, thunder rumbling.

“You mean memory replication!” Wang Yu suddenly understood.

“Precisely. I’ve discovered that even here, my electromagnetic ability still functions—but since I lack a physical body, I can’t replenish my spiritual energy. So I need you to agree to one condition before I replicate his memory data—this way, he might be revived someday.” The golden-haired woman spoke with quiet confidence.

“What condition? Say it.” Wang Yu thought for a moment, then replied swiftly.

“It’s simple. Just promise me that one day, you’ll take me out of here.” The woman stated frankly.

“How do you know I can actually take you out?” Wang Yu countered.

“Even if you can’t now, that doesn’t mean you never will. I only ask for your promise. Whether you break it later is up to you—I’ve added no harsh conditions.” Helena replied calmly.

Wang Yu fell silent.

“Brother Wang, it’s getting bigger—I’ve lost feeling in my lower body!” Wang Tiezhu cried, nearly sobbing.

Wang Yu looked again.

The blurry hole had now split the boy’s body nearly in half—yet he was still speaking, the sight grotesque beyond words.

“Fine. Do it. I accept your condition.” Wang Yu sighed, finally agreeing.

“Excellent. Agreed. Without a helmet, it’ll just cost me more spiritual energy—but that’s fine.” Helena smiled broadly, her fingers blazing with lightning as she stepped calmly toward the boy.