One person: Starting with the Snow Drinking Blade

Chapter 154 The So-Called Truth

The starry sky behind the bronze door is not a starry sky.

It was something darker than darkness itself—a viscous, flowing substance, like liquid ink, slowly churning within the doorway. And those so-called "stars" weren't stars at all, but countless eyes. Some were as large as cartwheels, others as small as needles; some shimmered with an eerie red light, others glowed with a cold, ghostly blue. They appeared and disappeared in the darkness, like fish in the deep sea, stalking the intruder's prey.

The moment the door was fully opened, an indescribable aura surged out from inside.

That wasn't "Qi," nor was it murderous intent, nor any known form of energy. It was something more primordial and ancient... "information." Like a tide, like a tsunami, like a flood bursting its banks, it instantly surged into everyone's mind, unstoppable by any defense.

Countless images flashed before Zhang Chulan's eyes.

Seventy years ago. On that night of the Jia Shen Rebellion.

He saw his grandfather, Zhang Huaiyi—he was still young then, in his early thirties, wearing a gray cloth outfit, standing at the entrance of Twenty-Four Solar Terms Valley. There were seven other people standing beside him, and he recognized every single one of their faces: faces he had seen in various old photographs and legends.

"Big-Eared Thief" Zhang Huaiyi, "Three-Foot Ding" Ding Dali, "Overturning Rivers and Seas" Wang Laixian, "Penetrating Heaven and Earth" Lin Yingqi, "Rootless and Lifeless" Feng Yao, "..." Seven names, seven faces, appeared particularly solemn under the moonlight.

Wugensheng stood at the very front. At that time, Wugensheng looked to be only thirty-five or thirty-six years old, wearing a faded blue cotton robe, his hair casually tied back, and his face carrying a kind of indifference that seemed to have seen through the ways of the world. His hand rested on the bronze door, and the three characters on the door, "What is a Human Being," gleamed with a faint blue light under the moonlight.

"Brothers," Wugensheng spoke, his voice soft but exceptionally clear in the silent valley, "Have you thought it through? Once you push open this door, there's no turning back."

Zhang Huaiyi stepped forward, stood beside him, looked at the door, and remained silent for a long time.

Then he nodded.

"push."

Zhang Chulan noticed a light in his grandfather's eyes when he uttered that word. It wasn't fear, nor hesitation, but a kind of...resolute determination. Like the determination to jump into an abyss even knowing it lies ahead.

The other six people nodded in agreement.

Wugensheng took a deep breath, placed his hands on the door, and pushed it hard.

"Squeak—"

The door opened.

What emerged from behind the door was not the starry sky, but a chaotic void. It was hazy and indistinct, like the state before the creation of the world, where nothing could be seen or perceived.

But suddenly, eight points of light flew out from the chaos.

Eight points of light, each a different color: some gold, some white, some blue, some red, some black, some yellow, some purple, and some… colorless and transparent. As if alive, they circled in the air before disappearing into the bodies of the eight people.

Zhang Huaiyi shuddered, a golden light flashing in his eyes. He looked down at his hands and murmured to himself:

"The source and flow of Qi..."

The scene changes.

Feng Baobao saw another time—a much more distant past, at least a hundred years ago.

It's a valley, similar to the Twenty-Four Solar Terms Valley, yet not quite the same. The mountains are greener, the water is clearer, the sky is bluer, and the air is filled with an indescribable... vitality.

A young woman dressed in coarse cloth knelt before the bronze door.

The woman was probably in her early twenties, with delicate features and a resemblance of about seventy percent to Feng Baobao—not in appearance, but in that air of nonchalance, that detached, indifferent feeling. She held a baby in her arms, the infant wrapped in swaddling clothes, fast asleep.

The woman is crying.

Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto the baby's face. The baby moved its little mouth slightly, then continued to sleep.

"Please..." the woman's voice was hoarse and filled with despair, "Spare my child... She doesn't understand anything... She's just a child..."

Behind the door, a detached voice, neither clearly male nor female, rang out.

The voice didn't seem to come from any direction; it seemed to resonate directly within my heart, like another thought within me.

"She is the 'key.' That's her destiny."

The woman shook her head, shook her head desperately.

"No...she's not the key...she's my daughter...she's flesh of my flesh...you can't..."

"You brought her here so I would take her in, didn't you?" The voice remained indifferent, devoid of any emotion. "You know she won't live long. An ordinary person's body can't withstand that power. Only here can she survive."

The woman was stunned.

She looked down at the baby in her arms, at the little face, at the slightly rising and falling chest, at the faint breathing.

The baby's complexion was indeed not good. It was somewhat pale, with a bluish tinge, and the lips were also very pale.

The woman remained silent for a long time.

Then she bent down and gently placed the baby in front of the bronze door.

The swaddling clothes touched the cold stone slab, and the baby seemed to sense something. It pursed its little mouth and let out a weak cry.

The woman did not turn back.

She turned and walked step by step toward the abyss beside her.

The pace was slow, but the steps did not stop.

The baby is crying behind me.

The woman stopped and looked back one last time.

The moonlight shone on her face, illuminating her eyes, which were filled with tears yet also carried a sense of relief.

Then, she leaped into the abyss and disappeared.

The baby is crying.

The door opened a crack, and a ray of golden light flew out from the crack and disappeared into the baby's forehead.

The baby stopped crying, closed its eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

I slept very soundly, very soundly.

Like someone who will never wake up.

What Wang Ye saw were countless broken fragments—

Ancient people danced on the altar, their bodies painted red, their hair adorned with feathers, and chanting incomprehensible incantations. Huge shadows swept across the sky, their shapes indescribable, blotting out the sun.

People dressed in strange costumes traversed the starry sky; their bodies were as transparent as light, allowing one to see through the stars behind them. They needed no spaceships, no tools, simply flying through the vacuum at lightning speed.

Enormous, indescribable creatures slumbered in chaos. Some were the size of a planet, some the size of an entire galaxy, and some... were beyond measure. They huddled in the depths of darkness, and with each breath, countless stars flickered in and out of existence.

A world-destroying war. Countless "humans" and "creatures" clashed, each collision shattering vast swathes of space. Finally, something fell, plummeting from a great height, crashing through countless spaces before landing in a chaotic void. Fragments of that thing scattered, one piece, wrapped with smaller fragments, drifted towards an inconspicuous corner.

That corner is called Earth.

What Zhuge Qing saw was the origin of Wuhou Qimen.

It wasn't created by Zhuge Liang.

It is about inheritance.

From an even more ancient era, from the owners of those "eyes" behind the door.

He saw a group of people dressed in Bagua robes kneeling before a huge altar. On the altar, there was a blurry shadow that reached out a hand and touched the forehead of the leader. The leader shuddered, countless runes flashed in his eyes, and then he knelt down, shouting:

"Thank you, God, for bestowing this power!"

Qimen, in essence, is a tool that imitates "them" to communicate with heaven and earth and manipulate rules.

Humans have never been the creators.

They are merely imitators.

Those runes, every stroke, every line, were carved with a life-or-death effort.

What Barron saw was his own experience on Nathan Island.

Those indescribable existences... just the tip of the iceberg.

He saw a gigantic, mountain-like creature slumbering in the center of the island. The creature had no fixed shape; sometimes it resembled an octopus, sometimes a tree-man, sometimes a pile of rotting flesh. Each breath it took caused the entire island to tremble, filling everyone who set foot on it with a terror that emanated from the depths of their souls.

What Xia Liuqing saw was Yang Zhu, the first leader of Quanxing.

The legendary man who would not pluck a single hair to benefit the world stood before the bronze gate, laughing heartily.

"If everyone refrains from harming the slightest thing and does no one seeks to benefit the world, then the world will be at peace!"

He laughed until tears streamed down his face, and he bent over laughing.

"I see! I see!"

Then, he pushed open the door and went inside.

He never came out again.

But Nie Lingfeng saw... much more.

He saw the "truth" of this world.

Right behind this bronze door.

The Eight Extraordinary Skills are fragments of the "key" to unlock the "cage".

When the eight extraordinary skills are gathered together and combined in a specific way, this door can be opened, releasing that "being".