Volume One: City Under the Storm Chapter 48: A Disturbance in the Fabric of Space

Ahead of them lay an ordinary stretch of woodland, nothing out of the ordinary in sight—not even a single rare herb. Yan Xueqing had intended to speak, but seeing Zhang Heng’s furrowed brow and heavy expression, she realized there must be something unusual about this place.

Channeling her spiritual energy into her eyes, Yan Xueqing carefully observed their surroundings.

The power of space was notoriously difficult to control. It could exist anywhere, and the destination of any teleportation was unpredictable. Thus, people had always avoided such places, unwilling to take the risk. If not for the countless spiritual treasures hidden within Dragon Burial Abyss, perhaps no one would have ventured into this accursed place.

“Miss Yan, are you ready?” Zhang Heng turned back with a gentle smile, his voice soft.

Yan Xueqing nodded in response, “I’m ready.”

“It’s not too late to turn back if you regret it now. There are plenty of treasures in Dragon Burial Abyss; we don’t have to go inside. I can take you to search elsewhere,” Zhang Heng continued, wanting to make sure she understood the risks. Even he didn’t know what awaited them inside.

At his words, Yan Xueqing teased, “I’m a woman and I’m not afraid. What about you—are you scared?”

Zhang Heng smiled resolutely and once again extended his hand. “Very well, let’s go.”

Yan Xueqing also reached out to grasp his hand. Before them lay the mysterious, turbulent currents of space itself; if she and Zhang Heng became separated, she would be lost for good.

Who would have thought that she, a disciple of the Sword Saint, a prodigy who had reached the Void Return stage at the age of twenty, would one day have to rely on a powerless young man?

Hand in hand, the two of them walked step by step toward the legendary abyss.

Within Dragon Burial Abyss, Du Gu Bai and Qian Muyun were still immersed in their comprehension of the supreme Dao, while Murong Qingxue continued to absorb the spiritual energy from the spirit lake. Outside the abyss, countless cultivators anxiously waited.

The only difference was that in this space, Zhang Heng and Yan Xueqing had disappeared—without causing even the slightest ripple.

Infinite chaos surrounded them, a haze in all directions. Nothing could be seen, nothing sensed. There was no sound, no spiritual energy—perhaps even no other living being. The only noise to be heard was the sound of their own heartbeats.

Yan Xueqing’s grip on Zhang Heng’s hand grew tighter.

Zhang Heng gently patted her hand and spoke softly, “Miss Yan, it’s all right. I’m here.”

No matter how strong she was, she was still just a young woman. This was the spatial turbulence that struck fear into the heart of every cultivator—who wouldn’t be frightened?

But Zhang Heng felt nothing. He had already died once; if even death held no terror for him, what else could possibly faze him? Besides, he placed great trust in his system.

His words eased Yan Xueqing’s anxiety.

She soon released his hand, turning her head to feign indifference. “I’m a third-rank master of Void Return. How could I possibly be afraid?”

Zhang Heng simply smiled, choosing not to argue.

The two of them stood there. Yan Xueqing was unsure what to do, while Zhang Heng began to communicate with his system.

Hey, System, I came in just as you instructed. What do I do next?

Beep. This place contains endless spatial power. Calm your mind and sense it carefully—you will surely gain something.

What? Comprehend? Are you kidding me?

Zhang Heng was dumbfounded. He had risked his life to come here, expecting to find some rare treasure, only to be told that he was supposed to “comprehend” something. Comprehend what? He was a good-for-nothing at cultivation—how could he possibly sense anything here?

Seeing Yan Xueqing’s eager expression left him with a headache. She had made an extremely difficult choice to come here; if she found out there were no treasures, she’d probably explode.

Hey, System, don’t mess with me! Is there anything good here or not? Hey, answer me!

But no matter how many times Zhang Heng called, the system ignored him.

Forced to put on a calm front, Zhang Heng offered a gentle smile and said, “Miss Yan, do you sense anything special about this place?”

Yan Xueqing was momentarily stunned, then realized he was probably testing her.

She gathered spiritual energy and probed her surroundings.

But there seemed to be nothing at all. The space they occupied seemed to contain only the two of them; everything else was void.

After a while, Yan Xueqing shook her head helplessly.

It was hopeless—even Yan Xueqing, a prodigy, had found nothing.

Never mind. He might as well do what the system said.

Zhang Heng sat down cross-legged and looked up at Yan Xueqing. “Miss Yan, don’t use your eyes. Use your heart to see.” Truth be told, he didn’t know what he was saying—he was just trying to keep her calm.

“Oh.” Yan Xueqing mimicked his posture, sitting cross-legged herself.

Time passed slowly.

While Yan Xueqing meditated with her eyes closed, Zhang Heng found it hard to settle his mind. Every so often, he peeked at Yan Xueqing.

She looked genuinely serene like this. Moreover, she lacked that unapproachable air some others possessed—she was much easier to get along with.

Murong Qingxue was suited to be a goddess, whereas Yan Xueqing made the perfect confidante. Of course, only children would make choices.

Zhang Heng tried to force himself to calm down—but if it came to sleeping, he’d be fine; when it came to comprehension, he had no clue.

He sat there for an hour. His legs had gone numb, but he still hadn’t sensed a thing.

Yan Xueqing showed no sign of waking, the system still ignored him, and Zhang Heng had no choice but to continue his “comprehension.”

As time trickled by, Zhang Heng gradually began to enter a meditative state. Though his surroundings remained filled with nothingness, suddenly, countless points of light appeared. In a haze, Zhang Heng saw a child—an infant, still wrapped in swaddling clothes.

A bitter wind howled around, reddening the child’s face, but he did not cry, lying quietly as the crowd passed by without noticing him.

At last, a disheveled old man appeared. He noticed the tiny life struggling in the cold, wiped his hands, and carefully picked up the baby. After a moment’s inspection, he walked off into the distance.

Tears slipped from the corners of Zhang Heng’s eyes.

“Old Zhang, Old Zhang, don’t go!”

He rushed forward, desperate to grasp that familiar yet distant figure. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t reach him.

“Old Zhang!”

Powerless, Zhang Heng fell to his knees, calling out.

The old man, carrying the child, dissolved into countless points of light and vanished into the air. The scene shifted. The lights gathered together again.

This time, a stone appeared—a translucent, three-foot-tall stone radiating a soft glow, like a rare and precious gem. Six people stood around it, their expressions solemn.

After a while, the stone’s outer shell began to fall away, as if the treasure within was about to emerge. The six gazed at the stone, eyes locked in anticipation.

But just at that critical moment—

An overwhelming force surged from beyond the space, strong enough to rend reality itself.

This power was like that of a sovereign who looked down upon all things; before it, everything else was as insignificant as ants.

“Aaah!” Zhang Heng cried out.

He felt as if his body was being sucked into the force.