Chapter Twenty: High Technology

Butterflies flitted among the flowers, weaving through the blooms. Everyone walked amidst them, their hearts weighed down with an unusual heaviness. White butterflies, born from white bones—how many corpses must lie beneath their feet?

Unconsciously, Xiaoshan began to imagine what the dead looked like after death. Were souls transparent or solid? Broken or whole?

Anyone would do the same; in a place where so many had died, the oppressive atmosphere would dull even the most heightened spirits.

A soul might drift by right before your eyes, and you wouldn’t see it. For after death, the three souls and seven spirits are cast into the cycle of reincarnation, leaving behind only fragments—perhaps pieces of memory, or the terror of their final moments.

The soul, homeless after death, only lingers to become white bones if trapped with no escape.

Souls are invisible; the naked eye cannot see them. Only those who have cultivated special skills might glimpse such things, and these were but fragments.

People always imagine the worst—that is human nature.

It was the same with Xiaoshan and the others. No matter how low their spirits sank, they could not let their purpose be delayed. They forced themselves to move forward.

The butterflies, the flowers, and the scenery slipped past behind them. Hao Po led the way, and after traversing that rainbow-hued landscape, they reached the edge of a cliff.

The chasm below was bottomless, the cliff edge shrouded in darkness, so unlike the beautiful, fragrant haven of butterflies behind them.

If that flowery land could be called paradise, this cliff was hell—gloomy, sunless, strewn with rocks.

Everywhere, broken stones littered the ground; even around the precipice, stones floated in the air, perfectly mirroring the meteorite pits they’d seen before.

Yet now, instead of a cratered floor, there was only an abyss. Stones dropped down made no sound when they landed.

A bottomless pit!

A fall would surely mean death.

Xiaoshan shivered, glancing up at the floating meteorite fragments.

Countless small stones were heaped together, so densely packed that they formed a “wall” nearly a meter high.

Below this “wall” of fragments was the endless abyss, the ground a meter away from the meteorite “wall.”

Looking down, the horizon remained shrouded in darkness. The edge of the cliff was nearly eighty or ninety meters from their destination!

It was clear: if anyone wanted to cross, there was only one way—grasp the fragments above their heads, shift their weight from feet to hands, and traverse the gap suspended in midair, moving painfully from one stone to the next.

Cross over the top of the fragments!

But this idea was soon dismissed. The stone “wall” was too high, and the fragments not solid enough; they would sway with every step, making a fall all but inevitable.

Even grabbing on with their hands would be useless. Xiaoshan’s brow furrowed deeply.

He looked at Haoyun, who was pacing in place, lost in thought, trying to devise a way across.

“Xiaoshan, look! Doesn’t this look like a circle?” Ruoxi exclaimed in surprise, calling Xiaoshan over.

He looked and saw that Ruoxi had retreated several hundred meters from the cliff’s edge. Was she talking about the view from afar?

“A circular cliff?” Xiaoshan stepped back to look at the stone “wall” from a distance. Indeed, it did seem circular.

People instinctively assume cliffs are vertical, rarely giving it more thought—but Ruoxi had noticed.

“Shall we walk around it?” Xiaoshan proposed.

“Let’s do it,” Haoyun replied, spreading his hands. They needed to understand the situation before going further.

After a long walk, they reached a conclusion: the cliff was indeed circular.

“There are too many unknowns with the stone wall, and the abyss below is bottomless. What should we do?” Haoyun muttered, worry etched on his face.

“Take out your high-tech magnetic energy lamp and try it,” Haotian suggested, turning to him with a hint of negotiation in his tone.

“This is a high-tech magnetic energy rhombus panoramic lamp—don’t call it the wrong name!” Haoyun corrected him, continuing, “It’s sturdy, but who knows what’s below? This lamp is priceless!” He cradled the sphere in his hands, caressing it protectively, hugging it to his chest when others glanced over, as if afraid someone might steal it—a true miser.

Haotian shook his head, chuckling, not pressing the issue. After all, it was just an idea; there was no guarantee this would get them across, and the lamp was expensive.

Xiaoshan suddenly had an idea. His eyes lit up as he reached out to touch one of the stones. When his middle finger brushed it, the stone seemed to lose all weight, instantly falling into the abyss below.

“Can we just remove the stone wall and jump across?” Xiaoshan wondered aloud.

“Remove it?” Haoyun was startled, then, as if understanding something, he too reached out to touch a stone. Sure enough, it fell away.

“Hao Po!” Haoyun’s eyes brightened as he called out.

No sooner had he spoken than a flash of light erupted. With a strike identical to the sword in the forest, a crescent-shaped gleam vanished in an instant. The surroundings brightened momentarily, then returned to calm.

The stone wall was instantly disassembled; vast chunks of stone crashed down, leaving a gap a meter wide.

“It really works!” Haotian exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Who would have thought you were so clever!” Haotian clapped Xiaoshan on the shoulder, beaming with praise.

“You overcomplicate things—sometimes the simplest solution is best,” Xiaoshan replied with a smile. “Clearing what’s in front of you can be easier than going around.”

Anyone praised would feel a surge of joy before questioning the reason behind it.

Indeed, they had focused only on finding a better path, forgetting they could simply remove the obstacle.

The simplest method, and yet they’d wasted so much time. From now on, I must be more adaptable, Haoyun thought, reflecting on his shortcomings as he gazed ahead.

“So how do we get across now?” Ruoxi stared at the abyss, lost in thought.

Yes, the stones were gone, but the gap was still nearly ninety meters—not just three, four, or five.

A leap of thirty or fifty meters might just be possible for martial artists using their inner strength, but only just.

“I sense many vengeful spirits ahead—a great number died over there,” Hao Po said gravely.

Many had died beyond the chasm; they must have crossed it, but how? Did they have some special means of transport?

“Then that’s our destination!” Haotian declared.

“Let’s cross, then,” Haoyun said, pulling a glass panel from his pocket.

With a touch of his finger, blue patterns spread across its surface. After a while, something seemed to appear at the cliff’s edge—a faint, shimmering blue screen materialized before them.

Haoyun flipped his right hand, making the glass panel vanish, then raised his hand and gestured for them to step onto the blue screen.

“Is this safe?” Xiaoshan asked dubiously.

Haoyun turned, an enigmatic smile on his lips, rich with meaning.

“Are you military?” Ruoxi asked.

Carrying such advanced technology, a magnetic energy lamp, and so familiar with the environment—they must be connected to the military.

The government controlled almost all advanced tech, especially electric and magnetic energy; they held most of the resources.

In the apocalypse, the military depended on all sorts of energy and high-tech weaponry, though these were nonrenewable—each use brought them closer to depletion. Using them here showed this mission was no ordinary one.

And for now, they had even mastered martial arts.

Haoyun snorted but did not answer. He stepped onto the blue screen; round dots appeared at his feet—contact points, proof the path was real.

“Let’s go!” Ruoxi urged, seeing things unfold, hurrying to catch up.

Xiaoshan hesitated at the edge, looking down. The abyss was still endless. His head spun—he was afraid of heights.

He was terrified of heights!

“Come on,” Ruoxi said, grabbing his arm, worried the others would get too far ahead.

“I’m scared!” Xiaoshan’s whole body trembled as he looked down, his voice quavering.

“You weren’t scared stepping on all those bones—why now?” Ruoxi snapped.

“It’s not the same!” Xiaoshan muttered inwardly, though he could only grunt aloud, unable to find the words.

You remember even that! Xiaoshan sighed, feeling utterly dejected.