Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

Squatting in the underground passage, Zong Lizi stared at the small holes with faint sword wills for collecting the rainwater; she looked like a bored young girl watching ants under a tree.

The main preachers of the priest mansion and the officials of the government were all left outside. Someone asked Zong Lizi gingerly, but got no answer.

She had no idea where Jing Jiu went, nor how long she would wait here.

All she knew was that Jing Jiu’s mood was unusual for him and that his disposition hadn’t improved even after having seen That One. This worried her.

“What are you watching?”

She didn’t expect Jing Jiu’s voice to call out from behind her not long after.

Zong Lizi was startled. She turned around and glanced at him before she turned to look at the rainwater collecting holes by the railway. “How come you came back so fast?” she asked.

“Time is not important as long as I feel rested,” said Jing Jiu. He seemed to be always patient with her.

Time is relative. All he needed was a quiet and isolated place to mull over some things and relax his mind at the same time.

There is no difference between a few minutes and a few decades.

Zong Lizi took out the prepared clothes and helped him get dressed.

By the time the two of them came up to the lawn from the underground, the main preachers of the praying hall and the officials of the government had left a while ago, as if they had never waited here nervously at all. The huge permanent star hung over the horizon, the supposed heated light looking a bit bluish after it was filtered by the protective shield. The natural light shining on the buildings in the mansion compound and the lawn looked more like the starlight that was several hundred times brighter.

“How was your study in the last few days?” asked Jing Jiu.

The inquiry seemed to be normal and casual, like what a friend would do; but it astonished Zong Lizi.

She had never had such a conversation with him, be it in the underground Mingshen Neighborhood or at the University of Stargate.

It was extremely rare for Jing Jiu. It was understood that he wouldn’t express his concern about the world in words even if he had such a concern.

“Well…it’s kind of difficult.”

Thinking of the courses she had recently, Zong Lizi felt a bit troubled. As her assistants, Jiang Yuxia and Hua Xi didn’t have to study as much as she did; and they were the geniuses who had gone through the gene modifications. However, even those two felt it difficult to study their courses, to say nothing of Zong Lizi.

“In fact, I’ve failed to understand it. Maybe some of the traditions are worth remaining secrets, but why does the knowledge regarding the arts have to be learned by rote?”

She went on in bewilderment, “I can’t even memorize the timetables, let alone the detailed information.”

“How did you learn them?” asked Jing Jiu.

Zong Lizi said, “There is a meditation room at the college. All I need to do is to sit in it in a trance. After that many pieces of knowledge just come to me.”

Normally, this was the top secret of the female priests, so she shouldn’t tell anybody. But since Jing Jiu asked about it, she could in no way conceal it from him.

The inheritance of the female priests was passed down verbally; nothing was written in words, which received a great deal of criticism and doubts.

The female priests couldn’t gain the trust of the populace in the beginning because of this reason.

In recent years, many people, including those in the yielding camp, were still using this as a weapon against the female priests. Given that the distant ancient civilization had a marvelous culture and advanced technology, why didn’t the female priests tell the world all of their secrets to help the humans of the new era develop and be in a better position when dealing with the Sea of Dark Matter?

It was illogical no matter how one viewed the stance of the female priests, and it was easy to come up with the opinion that was unfavorable for the female priests.

“She doesn’t trust the humans.”

This was the explanation offered by Jing Jiu.

Zong Lizi guessed who the “she” was in his statement. Feeling astounded, she halted her steps.

Jing Jiu continued, “Including you people.”

Zong Lizi looked at a lone tree at the deep end of the lawn, not knowing what to say.

The huge sun had already descended behind the horizon. The stars in the night sky had suddenly grown brighter, though the natural light hadn’t become brighter than before.

The tree bathing under the starlight appeared somewhat holy, and yet it seemed lonelier now.

She prodded softly, “So…you didn’t reach an agreement with That One?”

“No,” said Jing Jiu. “I don’t trust them either.”

The girl by the name of “Fly” didn’t trust the ascendants from Chaotian, and yet, he was somehow different

In the novel “The Path Toward Heaven”, his uniqueness was fully proven by the Green Sky Mirror and the All in One, the Green Girl and Ping Yongjia, and the Snow Girl.

Zong Lizi understood what he meant after her initial bewilderment. All of a sudden, she felt his he was a bit lonely, looking like the tree by the lawn.

Zhao Layue had a similar feeling when Jing Jiu heard the zither music played by Lian Sanyue many years ago during the Plum Meeting in Zhaoge City.

Zong Lizi fixed her gaze on one of Jing Jiu’s earlobes and noticed that the small gap on it became exceedingly smooth. It would be barely noticeable if it were not compared to the other ear.

It was because he had often rubbed it lately.

Why did he often rub his earlobe? Was it because he had been troubled lately?

Since Zhao Layue’s fingers were not around, who could help him deal with the issue?

“Are you…okay?” asked Zong Lizi.

Jing Jiu didn’t answer her, but took out an item and handed it to her, saying, “If something happens, burn it.”

It was an origami crane made from yellow paper. It was definitely unlucky to instruct her to burn it.

“What could happen then?” asked Zong Lizi in a trembling voice while looking at him.

Jing Jiu said, “It has nothing to do with you, so don’t even ask.”

He had changed her a great deal when they were in the apartment, in the hotel of the University of Stargate and this mansion, but he didn’t attempt to change her completely.

For instance, he had tempered her body with fairy energy, but he didn’t attempt to teach her the Cultivation methods.

The humans in this world were not suitable for learning the magic methods of Chaotian; and Zong Lizi’s talent was ordinary. However, these were not his true reasons.

He didn’t want her to know too much; nor did he want her to get involved too deeply with him.

As such, she would be able to leave when he came across misfortune.

It was true that Jing Jiu began to wonder if he would meet with true misfortune for the first time.

This didn’t mean that he had lost self-confidence.

He still believed that he was the strongest among the ascendants of Chaotian, save for the Snow Girl.

However, he was in a different situation right now.

…

…

Early the next morning.

The sun hadn’t risen yet.

The stars were not as bright as earlier at night.

It was quiet in the compound of the mansion.

The insects on the lawn made their last cries.

Ran Handong washed her face with cold water after she stayed late last night. After summoning zhenqi in her body, she forced herself to feel vigorous before she knocked on the room door.

Jing Jiu got up from the chair and picked up the black backpack, heading toward the outside of the room.

Mulling over what Jing Jiu said last night, Zong Lizi had a hard time falling asleep. She was in the state of shallow sleep in the early morning when the room door was knocked upon, which is why she was able to awaken so easily.

Zong Lizi rubbed her eyes a few times and saw his figure. She woke up fully instantly and sat up on the bed, asking, “Where are you going now?”

“Going to see someone.” Jing Jiu didn’t give her further explanation. He strapped the backpack and turned over the hoodie of the blue tracksuit, blocking his eyes and brows.

Ran Handong let loose a smile toward Zong Lizi before she closed the door behind her. She put on the military hat and hurried to catch up to him.

The slightly cold wind blew over from the deep end of the stone steps, rumpling the blades of grass. The floating train had already left the platform.

Standing on the deck, Zong Lizi looked at the scene in the distance while tightening her pajamas reflexively.

Jiang Yuxia and Hua Xi came into the room when they heard the commotion. Zong Lizi waved her hand to signal that there was nothing to worry about. Jiang Yuxia shot her a glance worriedly. Hua Xi came to the railing wide-eyed, looking at the drifting grass blades with an innocent expression on her face; it was unclear what she was reflecting on.

…

…

It was unknown where the floating train was, and that was because the crew members had no idea from which train station Jing Jiu and Ran Handong had disembarked.

Two standard hours later, a black spacecraft landed on the iceland in the southernmost part of the planet.

“You shouldn’t have brought me here,” said Ran Handong while staring at Jing Jiu’s eyes. “There’s no way I can’t tell my father about this.”

The young female officer breathed a bit heavily, her breathing turning into a thick white mist above the cold field.

“How did you guess it?” demanded Jing Jiu.

“There are a dozen battleships in the distant space, and countless satellites outside the atmosphere, to say nothing of those surveillance platforms. However, there’s no surveillance when flying to the south pole of the planet,” said Ran Handong, pale-faced. “My father can’t do it, neither can That One.”

She had thought that Jing Jiu wanted to see That One; she didn’t expect him to come to the iceland in the south pole, and she hadn’t discovered any surveillance during the entire journey.

To achieve such an incredible feat required control of the whole military.

Only one person could achieve such a feat in the whole world.

“I’m going to see him,” said Jing Jiu.

Ran Handong asked in a slightly trembling voice, “What are you planning to do?”

A few days ago, that battleship was ablaze in the dark space; and a calm and distant voice drifted in the ball-like fire.

Jing Jiu said that if we met…

No sooner had he uttered these words than the battleship broke into pieces. No one knew what the last part of his statement was, nor could anyone tell what would happen when the two of them met.

Perhaps nothing would happen.