Reality. A theater in so unknown province.
This theater was undeniably dilapidated—perhaps "dilapidated" was even too generous, seeing as the roof had collapsed long ago, three of the four outer walls had been demolished, and only the wall behind the stage still stood, solitary, as though guarding the stage's last remaining purpose.
But in truth, this place had lost its purpose ages ago. The two leads who had once graced the stage were dead—had been for more than a decade.
Long Jing didn't know why he'd chosen to return here. He only felt that perhaps this was the one place in a world where he walked a tightrope that occasionally gave him the sensation of solid ground beneath his feet. So he'd followed his instincts and co back.
He awoke on the one remaining chair amid the rubble below the stage. The mont his eyes opened, his brow furrowed tightly.
Zero points.
Road to Ascension score: zero.
It wasn't as though Long Jing had never experienced a zero-point trial before. But this ti, he'd believed he'd uncovered the ultimate secret. Apparently, he'd been too naive.
Could San Dales have held yet another secret?
It had to. Otherwise, there was no explaining why his Benefactor—the Fun God—had added three points to his Ladder of Ascent...
The Fun God rarely gave him three points. When He did, it was because Long Jing had perford brilliantly, fooling everyone. But on those occasions his Road to Ascension scores were usually high as well.
A situation like today—zero on the Road to Ascension but maxed out on the Ladder—honestly didn't look like approval at all. It looked more like... mockery.
Long Jing felt a devastating blow from his Benefactor.
But why?
'Even if I didn't personally resurrect Lord Yu Xi, even if I fell one move short against Zhen Yi or Cheng Shi, I still earned credit for the ear—and I even received Lord Yu Xi's "recognition." Could that have been fake?'
Long Jing reflected for a long while, then gave up reflecting, and finally arrived at an enthusiastic conclusion:
This wasn't his Benefactor's mockery—it was His praise. Praise for drawing closer to His sole Envoy, for taking another monuntal step along the new path of Deceit, one worthy of being recorded in history.
Having consoled himself this way, Long Jing produced a pocket watch and studied its hour hand intently.
'Lord Shi Zhen...'
Lord Yu Xi had called Shi Zhen a "boring old friend," but Long Jing disagreed. He found anything that could grant him power interesting—so he was already eager to pay his respects to this Lord Shi Zhen who represented Ti.
The only question was how to arrange an audience. Lord Yu Xi hadn't exactly left instructions...
And would the Fun God even approve of fusing Deceit with Ti?
Probably. After all, Lord Yu Xi more or less represented Him, didn't He?
For the mont, Long Jing was caught between elation and worry, his expression cycling through a colorful array of emotions as he sank into thought.
...
Reality. A Taoist temple in so unknown province.
The altar candles still flickered; below them, a figure in hemp robes was about to wake.
Li Jingming had actually returned so ti ago, but he sat motionless on his ditation cushion, lips moving faintly as though speaking to soone.
This was a rule he'd set for himself since the Faith Ga's descent. He never knew when he might forget everything, so he'd devised a thod: one by one, he narrated every story he'd witnessed to the ancestral masters of ages past.
Let these long-departed spirits hear what kind of spectacular world this era had beco.
Only when the incense smoke curled and thickened did he rise, bow to each ancestral master, then walk step by step to the entrance, gazing out at rain striking the moss-covered stones. Slowly, his brow creased.
Zero points.
Road to Ascension score: zero.
Not only the Road to Ascension—even his Ladder of Ascent score was zero.
Why?
Li Jingming was stunned. Since the Faith Ga's descent, this was the first ti he'd received a double zero.
So what did it an? Were the mories he'd just shared with the ancestral masters wrong?
But where were they wrong?
Li Jingming replayed the last trial, analyzing every detail ticulously. His final conclusion:
There was nothing wrong!
Cheng Shi had deceived everyone to obtain the Secret Peeping Ear, then used it to summon Yu Xi's descent. This not only proved that this sentient creation of Deceit was collecting its own fragnts—it also proved that the Fate Weaver had a close relationship with Him.
From the surface to the substance, from fact to logic, this particular mory appeared utterly flawless. So why had he scored zero?
Silence hadn't given him points, which ant the secret he'd believed he'd seen through was wrong—but not egregiously so.
And mory hadn't given him points either... which could only an the mories he'd recorded were aningless—though not truly false.
So what other secret had this trial hidden from him, left undiscovered?
Was it sothing that had happened during the ti Zhen Xin and Cheng Shi had vanished? Or had Zhang Jizu—who had disappeared from the very start—been concealing sothing?
Or, to push his speculation further, had there been a problem with that sentient creation of Deceit itself?
At this thought, Li Jingming's gaze began to flicker. He wasn't questioning Yu Xi's authenticity—rather, the ntion of "sentient creations" reminded him that he happened to have one of his own.
The only issue was that the thing was sowhat unnerving, and he instinctively preferred not to get too deeply involved with it.
Then again, using it occasionally to verify certain things shouldn't be a problem, right?
After a mont's deliberation, Li Jingming retrieved the mirror from his spatial storage.
It was a full-length mirror as tall as a person, ornately frad in an antique style. The mirror's surface churned with deep azure radiance, its edges etched with serene, sleeping smiles. Only the back stood in jarring contrast to the front—a mass of protruding humanoid figures, eyes shut, faces contorted in terror, mouths agape in silent screams.
Their hands clutched their own throats as if suffocating. Their gaping mouths and nostrils twisted grotesquely, as though desperately gasping for one last breath of air.
The design was profoundly unsettling. It looked nothing like a mirror belonging to mory, and far more like a work of art from Corruption.
The mont this mirror appeared in the Taoist temple, Li Jingming's expression turned exceptionally grave. He gazed at his reflection—at the version of himself that stared back with mocking eyes—and asked his first question of the day:
"Do you know Yu Xi?"
The Li Jingming in the mirror let out a soft laugh, pulled out his hairpin and let the topknot unravel, hair cascading loose. He shook his head casually, and a flicker of sothing inscrutable passed through his eyes before he replied with a derisive hum:
"Of course I do. You know where I lead to—so you should know that the mories I hold are far more nurous than you could imagine.
"However, Li Jingming, until you agree to our terms, I won't answer a single question more.
"Freeloading doesn't befit a follower of mory who values the fair exchange of mories."
Li Jingming arched a brow, a playful smile on his lips. 'Even if you don't want
freeloading, I already have.'
This trick was indeed effective.
But he said nothing in reply. Instead, he carefully averted his gaze, refusing to look at the mirror's surface that kept tugging at his emotions.
And remarkably, the mont his gaze departed—even though he still stood directly in front of the mirror—the reflection inside simply vanished.
Just like that, Li Jingming turned his back, reached behind him, and felt along the mirror's fra. Murmuring a prayer to mory, he was instantly pulled from reality by the mirror's surface and deposited within a vast, magnificent... Collection Hall.
The Collection Hall of mory!
This was where Li Jingming's Benefactor kept His prized possessions.
It wasn't Li Jingming's first visit. He'd co here the very first ti he'd investigated the mirror's purpose, and it was during that visit that he'd inadvertently stumbled upon a secret about his Benefactor.
Specifically...
Within this Collection Hall, there was a painting that no mortal could approach—and it had been painted over. Li Jingming could tell that the one who'd done the painting over was mory Himself.
Because that canvas pulsed with the purest, most concentrated power of mory imaginable. Even he—mory's own Chosen One—was shaken, even faintly frightened, by the sheer intensity of that refined force.
He dared not imagine how many mories had been aggregated into it, but he could guess that any collection piece His Benefactor kept here under such tight seal could not be a simple mory.
Though the painting's content had been obscured, its shape remained visible. And as it happened, that shape looked exactly like...
Li Jingming silently produced his mask and raised it slowly, aligning it between his eyes and the painting. The comparison:
A perfect match. Not a fraction off.
"Interesting. Could this be the reason I scored zero, Lord Benefactor?
"But why would You share this secret with ?"
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