Chapter 12: The Ancient Path of Chi County
“Is this ocean the resting place for all the universe’s dead? Does that an the mythical underworld isn’t a fantasy but exists in the microcosm?”
After the shock and awe, everyone voiced their thoughts, sparking heated discussion.
“Science can’t detect the three souls and seven spirits within a human, perhaps because they’re too small, existing in a special state in the microcosm. After death, without a body to anchor them, they return to this soul sea we see.”
“Exactly! Souls are born in the womb. They must be smaller than an embryo to fit.”
…
Soone raised a doubt: “Are we really in Earth’s microcosm? Is Earth the underworld for the universe’s souls? At this microscopic level, Earth’s material state might not even exist. We might… no longer be on Earth.”
“Or we’ve reached a unique interface, entirely separate from the macroscopic universe. We might truly never return!”
…
The words “never return” were too despairing.
They ant an uncertain future, life or death unknown, and the atmosphere grew oppressive.
The sea echoed with the roars of fierce souls, and distant deep-sea thunderous cries stirred unease, making us wonder if demons lurked in the soul sea.
As the bronze ship sailed, more fierce souls lunged at the deck like moths to a fla, only to perish.
The force protecting the ship was strong, unbreachable.
This was the only comfort for now!
Amid the gloom and fear, optimists erged.
Gao Huan, arm wrapped in white bandages, stood at the bow’s edge, excited: “I said we fell from the Arctic Ocean into the underworld, and now you believe ? The Arctic Ocean is the ancient North Sea! Tell , a Kunpeng thousands of miles wide couldn’t move in the Arctic Ocean, but in this boundless soul sea, it could surely wreak havoc, right?”
“And you know why there’s the ‘seventh day’ after death? Because after seven days, the soul can’t return! The distance from Earth to this soul sea is seven days.”
A third-year grad student, steeped in superstition, spouted myths and guesses. Before, people would’ve laughed inwardly, but now, with scientific beliefs shattered, we could only rely on such haphazard theories to explain the surreal.
I had no interest in their baseless speculations. Having achieved an extraordinary feat, I was no longer as lost and anxious as when I woke. I’d co to terms with our situation.
Life now had a goal, a drive, a vision, a direction to strive for.
To cultivate the extraordinary.
To push further into the extraordinary.
I wanted to know—how far could one go? Could a person, as in myths, fly through heavens, move mountains, command stars…
Even if this was the underworld or a desolate ghost world—so what?
I, along with Cai Yutong, escorted the two professors injured in the stampede to the dical shack for treatnt.
By now, the bronze ship was close to the stone pillar monunt in the sea, just a few kiloters away.
One professor, leg injured, wiped his glasses and finally saw the four character symbols clearly, exclaiming, “These characters are entirely different from the ship’s tombstone inscriptions. They resemble oracle bone and bronze script, sharing origins with Chinese characters.”
Both, though not specialists, were enthusiasts of ancient scripts and had been studying the ship’s inscriptions, attempting to decipher them.
The other professor, pale from a chest injury, supported by , stared at the monunt: “They’re older than oracle bone and bronze script, but their evolution is traceable. We should be able to decode them.”
The leg-injured professor said, “They resemble the script on the Cang Sheng Bird Trace Stele, possibly from the sa era.”
The Cang Sheng Bird Trace Stele bore twenty-eight bird trace characters, said to be the original pictographs created by Cang Jie, the ancestor of writing.
My heart jolted: “These four carvings share origins with Chinese characters? Does that an, in the distant past, ancient Chinese reached this place?”
“Likely so… Let’s decipher them first and see what they say.”
Their passion for scripts outweighed their injuries. They pulled out ancient texts, pens, and notebooks, diving into discussion.
Soon, they reached a conclusion.
They wrote four characters in the notebook—“Chi County Ancient Path.”
“Chi County Ancient Path!”
The crowd around was puzzled.
Why would a stone monunt in the sea bear such cryptic words?
The bronze ship, sails full, swift as a galloping horse, reached the monunt’s base. Up close, its grandeur and oppressive majesty were even clearer.
It had stood in this vast soul sea for countless years, steep and impassable, towering and eternal. Such a perfectly carved stone peak shouldn’t exist in the sea—perhaps a mighty being placed it here.
The four characters, chiseled as if by divine axes, each stroke like a crack in the earth.
The leg-injured professor, putting away his pen and brown notebook, said, “Chi County isn’t the ‘county’ of a city or region!”
“Chi County is first recorded in Records of the Grand Historian: Biographies of ncius and Xun Qing. Zou Yan called ancient China ‘Chi County Divine Land.’”
“Legend says in ancient tis, the Fla Emperor ruled Chi County, and the Yellow Emperor ruled the Divine Land. Hence, ancient China was called Chi County Divine Land.”
Gao Huan exclaid, “So Chi County Ancient Path ans the road to Chi County Divine Land? The way back to Earth?”
I looked back at the receding stone monunt with “Chi County Ancient Path.” Farther off, dark leaden clouds cloaked the sky and sea, where the soul sea seed to end, all light unable to penetrate.
The bronze ship had sailed from those dark clouds.
I said, “This monunt guides lost souls in the sea back ho. The Chi County Ancient Path is likely the route we’ve traveled these seven days. Those dark clouds must hide secrets we can’t yet know.”
My mind recalled the Nine Infants seized by a golden claw from the clouds, a mory that still shocked .
“If only the ship weren’t beyond our control. If it turned back, we might return to Earth,” Director Yang said aningfully, his gaze on .
I escorted the professors to the dical shack. Soon, Zhao ng arrived.
“Co with .”
Zhao ng, rifle in hand, led to a secluded spot under a grave mound, his expression grave throughout.
When alone, he said seriously, “With the clouds parting, hopes of returning to Earth are dashed. The law, the greatest restraint, is gone. Those plotting have no more reservations. I predict chaos will erupt soon. Weiyi, rember every word I say.”
“First, you’re too injured. In the chaos, I may not protect you. Tonight, when everyone’s asleep, gather food and bury it with yourself in a grave mound deep in the tomb forest. Hide well. Don’t go near the nine-story tower—it’s dangerous.”
“Second, I buried the Tao Ancestor Tai Chi Fish and Yellow Dragon Sword in the grave mound where you landed on the ship. The tombstone has white bone wind chis—easy to find.”
“Third, I don’t know when this chaos will erupt or how many are plotting. I’ve rallied so brothers and made preparations, but… there’s no certainty of winning.”
Zhao ng gripped my right shoulder, eyes fervent and complex: “Three days! We set a three-day limit. No matter what noises or events you hear, don’t co out, even if they threaten my life.”
“Three days later, I’ll find you in the tomb forest, calling your na. That ans I’ve taken control.”
“If you don’t hear after three days, I’m dead! Then you’ll know the situation is dire… but no matter how bad, never surrender the Tao Ancestor Tai Chi Fish. If you do, you’re done for!”
“And don’t trust anyone. Without law and morality, in the face of survival, gain, and desire, people have no limits. Morals, sha, dignity—all worthless. Even the toughest can’t guarantee withstanding torture.”
I felt my senior brother’s care and worry: “Is that why you made the three-day pact? You’re afraid you’d break under torture?”
“Who can claim they’d endure torture without facing it? If it cos to that, the three-day pact gives a buffer,” Zhao ng said with a bitter smile.
I hesitated, wondering if I should tell him my injury had healed and I’d achieved Master’s extraordinary feat.
My senior brother was trustworthy.
But those around him might not be, or he wouldn’t have said “don’t trust anyone.”
I decided to keep it hidden for now, to beco his surprise weapon later.
“Brother ng, Brother ng, the backup generator’s fixed, haha!”
Chen Hong, ecstatic, ran over, covered in oil stains.
He was the ship’s equipnt technician, personally recruited by Zhao ng, one of his trusted allies. I’d t him several tis.
We stopped our secret talk.
I smiled: “With power, doesn’t that an the freezer can restart?”
“Naturally. This solves our biggest crisis. The ship’s food can last months,” Chen Hong said, beaming optimistically.
These days, Zhao ng had been leading efforts to repair the freezer and generator, the only way to prevent conflict over food shortages.
“Let’s go see.”
Zhao ng’s gloom lifted, his mood brightening as he headed with Chen Hong to the wrecked research vessel.
Watching them leave, I smiled: “The world never lacks builders of civilization. No matter how dire, soone’s always nding things.”
Civilization and morality were born to restrain human nature, to let humanity go further, not to kill, enslave, or eat each other like in primitive tis.
In hardship.
Kind and brave people, like Cai Yutong planting crops and Zhao ng fixing generators, choose civilized ways to save our shared ho, countering primal destruction.
Selfish, ambitious people, driven by primal instincts, often trample civilization without building it.
Ordinary folk can only follow.
…
I ventured alone into the eerie tomb forest, determined to retrieve the Yellow Dragon Sword and Tao Ancestor Tai Chi Fish.
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