Chapter Twenty-Two: A Hidden Paradise and a Chance Encounter with Treasures

After a while, Ruoxi’s eyes regained their clarity, and she gradually emerged from her dazed state. Xiaoshan asked her, “What’s wrong with you? I’ve been calling you forever and you didn’t respond. What happened?”

Ruoxi paused upon hearing Xiaoshan’s words, wetting her lips as though reluctant to share. But when she saw the obvious confusion in Xiaoshan’s eyes, and how intently he was watching her, she spoke with a hint of grievance. “I remembered things from before!” She lowered her head as she finished, her mood visibly sinking.

“In the past, many people absolutely died for that thing!” Haoyun said softly to them.

Haotian and Haopo exchanged glances, seeming to find answers in each other’s eyes.

Xiaoshan was still in a daze when, suddenly, an inexplicable emotion surged into his mind. There was no resistance—it felt as natural as watching a film. Before his eyes, a forest appeared. Suddenly, the sky was crisscrossed with countless glowing lines, densely packed, making the heavens blaze with sudden light. At the peak of each ray, dazzling brilliance flared, like shooting stars streaking across the sky, weaving a moving tapestry.

Yet Xiaoshan’s heart remained unmoved, save for a deep sorrow welling up from within him, inexplicable and impossible to name. He examined his feelings and found this sadness unaccountable, unable to explain its source.

Suddenly, the sky blazed, darkness turning to day, and the glare stung Xiaoshan’s eyes. The once level forest caved in, forming a massive pit, and trees within a radius of forty or fifty meters toppled over one another. Then, at the edge of the pit, trees began to grow at a visible speed, soon reaching seven or eight meters tall.

From the depression, a few stones started to rise. Xiaoshan blinked—why did this scene seem so familiar? As he blinked, the stones gradually filled the pit.

Night still cloaked the sky. From the pit, a shaft of white light shot upward, blasting the floating stones aside, some vanishing into the forest. Not far off, a few people who had noticed the commotion approached to investigate.

As the white light burst forth, the surrounding trees seemed to shudder, their branches swaying violently. Xiaoshan’s eyes brightened—he recognized this place. It was near the forbidden zone they had passed by before. No wonder it felt familiar.

One of the people accidentally brushed against a tree, which began to shake even more fiercely. Its branches tangled together, trying to envelop the intruder. The others, sensing danger, drew their weapons and hacked at the branches. With each blow, branches snapped and fell, shriveling on the ground.

Realizing the peril, they tried to flee, but the branches came faster than they could cut. As they struggled to escape, the branches twisted together like snakes, quickly encasing them. Soon, nothing could be seen of the people trapped within.

After that, more and more people ventured into the area, but only a few ever entered the pit itself. The rest fell prey to the man-eating trees, which grew ever stronger and taller, reaching heights of eight or nine meters.

For a long time, no one dared come again—until the military arrived. Heavily armed, they marched through the forest, unafraid of the man-eating trees. Their weapons easily severed the branches, which crashed to the ground and were trampled beneath their boots. The soldiers pressed forward, unstoppable, cutting down all resistance.

They reached the crater, disregarding the floating rock fragments, and without hesitation, each soldier jumped in. Watching them vanish from sight, Xiaoshan was filled with foreboding and, almost instinctively, wanted to follow. Yet, like before, he found himself rooted to the spot, voiceless, an outsider doomed only to observe, powerless to intervene.

A surge of energy gathered in his legs. He refused to remain so passive; he wanted to move forward. He tensed his ankles, and where his legs had felt heavy as lead, now there was a hint of freedom. Joy flickered in his heart—he could move! He strode quickly, body darting ahead, when suddenly a stone floated in his path. He instinctively reached out to move it, surprised by its weight, veins standing out on his forehead as he shoved it aside.

Avoiding one stone, he found another in his way. This time he was smarter, sidestepping it and leaving it behind. In no time, Xiaoshan left the man-eating trees behind and reached the crater.

But the landscape had changed so quickly that Xiaoshan couldn’t stop in time—his foot slipped, and he tumbled into the pit. Instinctively, he curled up to protect his head, but stone fragments rained down, bruising his body, welting his skin and sending pain shooting through his nerves.

Every minute dragged on like an eternity, each stone making him grit his teeth in agony. Suddenly, he slid all the way to the bottom. Overwhelmed by pain and dizziness, he rubbed his eyes—and they shone with sudden light.

Before him lay a dazzling array of weapons: sabers, swords, spears, halberds…

“Is this…?” he muttered. It was as though whatever he wanted appeared before him. The feeling of safety with a weapon in hand was altogether different from being unarmed.

His eyes swept over the weapons and stopped at the most striking sword of all—a blade sheathed in pure black. He stepped forward, passing by other weapons, and halted before a pedestal.

The sword before him had a black hilt, with a square “chip” engraved on the front, its blade lodged in a scabbard etched with intricate patterns. He hesitated not at all; this was the sword he most yearned to possess.

His right hand closed around the hilt. The grip fit his palm perfectly, as though the sword had been made just for him. He drew the blade slowly, finding it surprisingly light—nothing like the blunt sword that had required all his strength.

But when he finally drew it out, surprise—and then disappointment—washed over him. The blade was black, but dull, not sharp at all, as if made of stone. How could he cut tree branches or defend himself with this?

He ran his hand along the blade, frustrated at having drawn a weapon without an edge, wishing there were some way to sharpen it. As he did, all the surrounding weapons vanished in an instant, dissolving into points of light that floated in the air.

As he finished drawing the sword, the lights drifted into his body, the patterns on the blade glimmered and faded away. Xiaoshan’s face remained impassive, oblivious to what had just transpired.

Suddenly, a clamor rose behind him. Xiaoshan turned instinctively, puzzled. The echo of orderly footsteps filled the cave—clearly, there were many people outside.

“Not good! The ground’s shaking, something’s happening again. Move forward, quickly!” The voice was heavy and commanding, brooking no refusal.

“That’s coming from outside!” Xiaoshan exclaimed in surprise. Weren’t those soldiers supposed to be ahead of him?

Panic rose in his heart, along with a surge of fear. He wanted to hide, to avoid being seen. Looking around, he saw that the chamber was round, with only one exit—the source of the noise.

He scanned the surroundings and realized, to his surprise, that all the weapons had disappeared. Did they vanish when he drew the sword? Did taking this blade make the others leave as well? Xiaoshan scratched his head, bewildered. But now was not the time for questions. He forced himself to focus on what to do next.

Hiding here was no use, so he decided to leave. Sheathing the sword, he ran toward the exit.

He quickly reached the mouth of the cave—a round opening, the same one he had tumbled through. Stone fragments still floated in the air, reminding him of the injuries he’d suffered. His exposed arms were covered in welts, some still bleeding and stinging with pain.

Outside, the din grew louder. Xiaoshan felt the very ground trembling. He needed to hurry, or he’d be trapped at the entrance.

He tested one of the floating stones—it was solid enough to support his weight. He stepped up, pleased to find it held firm. Looking up, he saw that the opening was only three or four meters above, not too high.

As the noise drew nearer, urgency spurred him on. Using both hands and feet, he sometimes scraped his wounds, but in a short while, he had “climbed” to the top.

What met his eyes was a crowd of people.

“Lin Feng?” Xiaoshan blurted out, recognizing someone in the throng.