The aftershocks of the teahouse meeting had yet to die down. Lin Fan's life was like a lake into which someone had tossed a stone, its ripples spreading without end. Wang Meng had sent no new word for the time being; he was probably looking for someone to verify the effects of the "Yangyuan Pill." Lin Fan was happy to enjoy the peace and quiet. Every day, he practiced the Supreme Clarity Heart-Cleansing Mantra, looked after the three saints, and occasionally studied the rudimentary principles Taishang Laojun had jotted down about the roles of different herbs and the balance of yin and yang. His days felt full and hopeful. Thanks to the handsome profit he had made from Tong Tian's "guidance" last time, he didn't need to worry about money for the moment. He had quietly upgraded the quality of the food and supplies he bought. Though they still seemed "thick with mortal energy" in the eyes of the three saints, they were at least the best he could afford to provide.
But just as a tree yearned for stillness, the wind refused to die down. The casual works of Goddess Nüwa, imbued with the Dao rhythm of creation, were like brilliant pearls shining in the dark. Their unique "light" wasn't perceptible only to art connoisseurs like Zhou Wenyuan. It had also caught the attention of certain people... people who held very different beliefs.
That afternoon, the sky was overcast. Dark clouds hung low, as if a summer thunderstorm were brewing. Lin Fan had just brought in the clothes he'd been drying and was about to head to the pharmacy to buy some common herbs, hoping to experiment with a simple "calming" remedy based on Taishang Laojun's advice. But then a commotion that seemed completely out of place in the neighborhood drifted up from downstairs.
At first, there were several sharp honks from cars. It seemed that more than one had parked on the already narrow road through the old Residential Complex. Then came the noisy voices, along with... the clatter of camera equipment being set up?
A sense of foreboding rose in Lin Fan's heart. He went to the window, lifted one corner of the curtain, and looked down.
Two news vans had arrived sometime during the day. Their sides bore the names "Jiangcheng Focus" and "Truth Seeker." Seven or eight people crowded around them, several with cameras on their shoulders and spotlights already on. At the center stood a middle-aged man in a white coat and gold-rimmed glasses, his hair combed to perfection, and a female reporter in a business suit, holding a microphone and wearing immaculate makeup. Several people in property-management uniforms stood beside them, smiling ingratiatingly as they pointed toward the building—specifically, Lin Fan's unit!
"Viewers, we're now at an ordinary Residential Complex in Jiangcheng's old town," the reporter said to the camera, speaking rapidly with a serious expression. "Recently, our Truth Seeker program received reports from several residents, as well as questions from experts in the field. They claim that a resident here has been circulating so-called 'spiritual artworks' that can supposedly 'calm the mind and sharpen the brain,' 'purify the environment,' and even 'inspire wisdom'! These items are being sold at exorbitant prices, often for thousands or tens of thousands of yuan, and have sparked widespread attention and controversy. Today, we've specially invited Professor Sun Zhengyi, a renowned psychologist in our city and a crusader against pseudoscience! Professor Sun will lead us in uncovering the truth behind these 'spiritual artworks'!"
Professor Sun Zhengyi, in his white coat, pushed up his glasses. His face wore a confident smile that suggested he was above it all and saw through everything. "The spirit of science lies in skepticism and empirical evidence. We must approach anything that claims to have supernatural effects without rigorous scientific verification with caution and criticism. These so-called 'spiritual artworks' largely exploit people's susceptibility to suggestion and their mysticist fantasies about the unknown. They're a new kind of superstition and commercial scam, dressed up in attractive packaging! Today, we'll use the sword of science to pierce this bubble!"
More and more residents gathered downstairs, murmuring among themselves. Some were curious, some disdainful, and some had heard about—or even privately envied—Lin Fan for having "gotten his hands on something good." Their expressions were complicated now.
Watching the scene, Lin Fan felt his mind go "buzz." Experts had come to debunk him—and brought a TV crew along?! This was far more troublesome than the gangland threats from Wang Meng! Gangsters could be handled through money or force, but a public-opinion assault flying the banners of "science" and "the public's right to know" could cause endless trouble if he mishandled it, utterly shattering the quiet life he'd worked so hard to maintain!
He understood at once. This had to be because Zhou Wenyuan had made too much of a fuss while tracing the origins of Goddess Nüwa's clay sculptures and paintings, drawing the attention of these "debunkers." Or perhaps certain so-called experts had jumped at the chance, either because they felt their interests had been harmed—maybe they thought Zhou Wenyuan had stolen the spotlight—or simply because they wanted to ride the wave of attention.
"This is bad..." Lin Fan's face paled slightly, and he instinctively looked back into the apartment.
Tong Tian remained seated in meditation, but he seemed to have noticed the commotion downstairs. His brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, and the air around him turned even colder, as if thunderous wrath might descend at any moment. To him, these noisy mortals were like cicadas on a summer day, an irritating racket.
Nüwa had also stopped writing. She looked out the window, a trace of puzzlement and... faint pity in her clear eyes. She didn't really understand what it meant to "debunk fraud," but she could sense the doubt, hostility, and emotion called "fixation" in the words of the people downstairs. She shook her head gently and murmured, "One cannot speak of the sea to a frog in a well, nor of ice to a summer insect. Trapped in the prison of their own understanding, they are pitiable."
Taishang Laojun was the calmest of them all. He even walked over to the window, took a look outside with Lin Fan, and stroked his beard with a smile. "How interesting. Faced with the unknown, the people of this world do not seek to understand it with reverence. Instead, they rush to deny and condemn it. That, too, is a unique kind of 'Dao.'"
Lin Fan didn't have Laojun's composure. "Senior, what do we do now? It looks like they're about to come up! If this gets exposed, we'll..." He shuddered at the thought of being surrounded by countless cameras, mocked and questioned across the entire internet, and brought under even closer scrutiny by the authorities.
"Meet soldiers with soldiers, and water with earth." Tong Tian's indifferent voice came from behind him. "If they dare break in and disturb my peace, I'll let them learn what it means to be 'unable to look directly upon a god.'" The chill in his words left Lin Fan with no doubt that he might really use his gaze to make everyone downstairs faint—or even lose their minds—on the spot.
"Senior Brother, please don't act in haste," Nüwa said gently. "This is not the Primordial Era. Killing and intimidation are not the way to solve this. Since they claim to have come in search of knowledge—albeit a twisted version of it—we may be able to convince them with reason."
"Goddess Nüwa is right!" Lin Fan quickly agreed. He didn't want tomorrow's social news headline to read, "Expert and Reporter Team Suffer Group Psychotic Episode, Suspected Attack by Unknown Force." "We can't use force. We have to find a way to talk them into leaving, or... make them realize on their own that they're out of their depth."
But how could he "talk" to them? How could he discuss the Great Dao of the Primordial Era and the mysteries of creation with a group of reporters and experts who firmly believed in scientism and had come to "debunk fraud" with their minds already made up? It would be like talking to a brick wall—and might even make them think he was crazy, deepening their suspicions.
Just then, a series of urgent, loud knocks sounded at the door, accompanied by the property staff calling out awkwardly, "Lin Fan? Are you home? Open the door. We'd like to ask you about something."
It had finally come to this.
Lin Fan took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He glanced at the three saints. Tong Tian closed his eyes again, though his divine sense was clearly focused on the people outside. Nüwa sat back down at the table, still graceful and composed, as if she were about to face not a disturbance but a farce. Taishang Laojun had somehow gotten himself another teacup and was calmly pouring tea, looking as if he were enjoying the show.
With these three watching his back, Lin Fan felt much more at ease. He straightened his clothes, walked to the door, arranged his expression, and opened it.
The instant the door opened, the glaring spotlights shone on him, and the camera lenses fixed on him. The female reporter practically shoved her microphone in Lin Fan's face, firing questions at top speed. "Are you Mr. Lin Fan? We're from Truth Seeker! Do you have anything to say about selling so-called 'spiritual artworks' from your home? Do you admit this is a marketing scam exploiting the public's psychology?"
The questions came in a rapid-fire barrage, loaded with leading and hostile implications.
Professor Sun Zhengyi stepped forward as well. He folded his arms and looked Lin Fan up and down as if he were an experimental subject, a mocking curve at the corner of his mouth. "You're Lin Fan, right? You're quite young. I hear you've got some remarkable things here—things that can calm the mind, purify the air, and even inspire wisdom? Would you mind letting us in so we can test them with scientific instruments and see what kind of amazing 'energy' these 'divine objects' really contain?"
He placed special emphasis on "divine objects" and "energy," his voice dripping with ridicule and disdain.
Behind them, the property manager smiled ingratiatingly and lowered his voice. "Xiao Lin, just cooperate with the experts and help clear up this misunderstanding. It'll be good for everyone..."
Seeing the scene before him, Lin Fan felt anger stir in his heart, but he forced a confused and innocent look onto his face. "Everyone... have you got the wrong person? What spiritual artworks? I don't know anything about that. I'm just an ordinary tenant. I go to work every day. What would I know about this?"
He decided to play dumb for the moment and see what evidence and information they had.
"Playing dumb?" The reporter had clearly come prepared. She took a somewhat blurry printed photo from an assistant. It showed the little clay rabbit Goddess Nüwa had made, which had previously entered the secondhand market before Zhou Wenyuan acquired it. "This! And other clay sculptures and paintings in a similar style! After investigating this from multiple angles, we traced them all back to your home! Someone saw you handling similar items with their own eyes! You're still going to claim you don't know?"
Professor Sun sneered too. "Mr. Lin, there's no point in arguing in the face of science. We've brought the latest environmental energy detectors and material composition analyzers! Just let us in to run a few tests, and the truth will become clear. If these things are really as miraculous as the rumors claim, why are you afraid to let them undergo scientific testing?"
His words sounded perfectly reasonable, and he'd backed Lin Fan into a corner. Refusing to let them test the items would make him look guilty. Letting them test them, on the other hand, would be even worse if the instruments registered data beyond the normal range—which they inevitably would. He'd be covered in mud, whether or not he was guilty.
Lin Fan's thoughts raced. He knew he couldn't refuse outright; that would only make him look more suspicious. He had to let them "test" the items within limits, and steer the results in a direction that would benefit him—or at least muddy the waters.
He put on a suitably hesitant look, with a trace of indignation at being wronged, then stepped aside. "I have no idea what you're talking about! I don't have any artworks here! Just ordinary personal belongings! Go ahead and inspect them if you want, but please don't damage anything. Once you've checked and found nothing wrong, please leave at once and issue a public clarification!"
His act made him look like an ordinary young man being harassed for no reason.
The reporter and Professor Sun exchanged glances, a flash of smugness in their eyes. They clearly thought Lin Fan was bluffing, and that the tests would expose him.
"Don't worry. We'll only conduct non-destructive tests!" Professor Sun waved a hand. His assistants immediately squeezed inside with several silver cases. The property manager followed them in, but when the cameraman tried to enter, Lin Fan stopped him.
"This is a private residence. You can't film without permission!" Lin Fan said firmly. He couldn't let them film the inside. Three saints were sitting there. Even if ordinary people couldn't tell anything was out of the ordinary, their bearing and appearance alone would be a huge problem if it got out.
The reporter wanted to argue, but Professor Sun waved her off and said confidently, "If he doesn't want us to film, then we won't. The scientific data will tell us everything! Xiao Wang, Xiao Li, start testing! Focus on the concentration of air ions, abnormal electromagnetic fluctuations, and any unknown energy radiation that might be present!"
The two assistants promptly opened their cases, took out various probes, and began scanning the room. The instruments let out a piercing hum, and their indicator lights flashed repeatedly.
Lin Fan's heart rose into his throat. He watched the instruments nervously, then stole a glance at the three saints.
Tong Tian remained seated with his eyes closed, paying no attention to the probes moving around him, as if they were no more than a few bothersome flies. Nüwa frowned slightly, seemingly bothered by the noise from the instruments, but she didn't stop them. She only watched in silence. Taishang Laojun was the most amusing of all. He held his teacup and gazed curiously at the instruments flashing red and green, as if they were some novel toys.
The assistants first pointed their probes at every corner of the room, especially the windowsill, where the "breath soil" statue and several little clay animals were displayed.
"Professor Sun! We've found something!" one assistant suddenly cried, pointing at the screen of an instrument resembling a Geiger counter. "The... uh, what we call the 'environmental harmony index' is unusually high in this area! Far beyond normal! And the concentration of negative oxygen ions in the air is at forest levels! This... this is unbelievable! In a sealed urban apartment like this!"
Another assistant shouted, "Professor! The electromagnetic spectrum scan is normal. There's no abnormal radiation. But... the preliminary scan of the clay sculptures on the windowsill shows that they're made of ordinary children's modeling clay, yet their internal structure... has an extremely rare, highly ordered... 'quasi-crystalline state'? And there seems to be a stable information field attached to them that we can't decipher!"
Professor Sun's confident smile froze. He strode over and checked the screen himself. The more he looked at the data—far beyond anything that made sense—the more deeply his brows furrowed.
"Impossible! There has to be interference or a measurement error!" He couldn't accept the result. It was completely at odds with the "scam" he'd expected. "Test again! Calibrate the instruments! Focus on those clay sculptures!"
He snatched up a probe and pointed it at the clay fawn on the windowsill, the most lifelike of them all, with a lively gleam in its eyes.
Just as the probe was about to touch the fawn, Nüwa, who had been quietly watching, raised her eyes slightly.
There was no light and no sound.
But a glimmer seemed to flash almost imperceptibly in the clay fawn's eyes.
At the same time, the instrument in Professor Sun's hand suddenly blared an ear-piercing alarm! The numbers on the screen went haywire, then it went black with a sharp pop! A faint burnt smell came from inside the device.
"What's going on?!" Professor Sun jumped in fright and nearly threw the probe.
"Professor! The instrument... it seems to have overloaded and burned out!" The assistant checked it in alarm.
"This..." Professor Sun looked at the smoking probe in his hand, then at the little clay fawn on the windowsill, still quiet and adorable. For the first time, uncertainty and suspicion appeared on his face. That was far too strange to be a coincidence!
Unwilling to give up, he pointed to a painting hanging on the wall, one of Nüwa's early works, the Quiet Orchid Painting, imbued with a tranquil Dao rhythm. Lin Fan had liked it, so he'd had it simply framed and hung up. "Test that painting!"
Another assistant hurriedly aimed a probe at it. This time, the instrument didn't burn out, but the numbers on the screen left everyone speechless once again. The "environmental harmony index" around the painting was just as absurdly high, and the analyzer showed that the ordinary ink and rice paper contained a fantastically complex pattern of "energy" markings, as if they followed some mathematical law—almost like the highest level of encrypted information?!
"What... what is this thing?" Professor Sun muttered. His scientific worldview had taken a powerful blow. This could no longer be explained by "psychological suggestion" or "coincidence"!
The reporter could tell that something was wrong too. She moved closer to Professor Sun and asked quietly, "Professor Sun, this... seems to be going a little beyond what we expected? The data..."
Professor Sun's face turned pale, then flushed. He abruptly turned to Lin Fan, who had been standing off to the side with an almost amused expression. Lin Fan did, in fact, find the situation a little funny. Professor Sun demanded, "Lin Fan! What did you do to these things?! What technology are you using that we don't know about?!"
Lin Fan spread his hands and looked even more innocent, with a hint of grievance. "Professor Sun, I don't understand what you mean. I'm just an ordinary wage earner. What kind of technology could I have? As for these results... could your instruments be... well, a little too sensitive? Or maybe the weather's bad today and they've gotten damp?" He began speaking nonsense with a perfectly straight face.
"You!" Professor Sun was left speechless. The instruments had been damaged and the data was abnormal, yet none of it could be explained by existing science. He was in an extremely awkward position. If he insisted it was a scam, he had no evidence and would only look like a clown pretending to know what he was talking about. If he admitted the objects had extraordinary qualities, he'd be contradicting himself. What would become of his reputation as a "crusader against pseudoscience"?
Just then, Taishang Laojun, who had quietly watched the show over his tea, spoke in a leisurely voice. He looked at Professor Sun and spoke calmly, as if commenting on the fine weather.
"This gentleman... a doctor, perhaps? Your instruments are clever, but they can only peer into the outward appearance of things, not plumb their spirit. It is like the blind men and the elephant: each grasps one part, but none can see the whole. The things here are nothing more than clay, paper, and ink. Yet the sculptor put her heart into them, and the painter poured her feelings into them. Where the heart and spirit are invested, the natural aura is different. You fixate on what your instruments can measure and neglect what the heart can sense. Is that not to abandon the root and chase the branches?"
Laojun had put it in the plainest language, yet he'd gone straight to the heart of the matter. The instruments could only measure the material level. They couldn't sense the "heart and spirit" or "Dao rhythm" within the objects—and those were the true source of the wonders in Nüwa's works.
Professor Sun stared at him, stunned. The argument sounded plausible, but it didn't fit scientific logic at all! The heart and spirit invested in something? A difference in its natural aura? This was idealism! Metaphysics!
"Absurd! That's sophistry!" Professor Sun said, nearly losing his temper. "Science only accepts facts that can be repeated and verified! These vague, illusory claims of yours can't be proven at all!"
Laojun chuckled without arguing. He simply pointed at the gloomy sky outside, then at the burned-out instrument in Professor Sun's hand, and said meaningfully, "When the sky is about to rain, ants know first. It is not that ants can measure the sky; they can only sense its changes. Your instruments cannot even match an ant's sensitivity. How, then, can they measure the mysteries of creation?"
The words exploded in Professor Sun's mind like a thunderclap! Yes, the instruments couldn't detect it—and some had even burned out. Didn't that prove the existence of some force that current technology couldn't understand? Could the boundaries of "science" he had always upheld be limitations in themselves?
He looked at the old man before him, who had an otherworldly bearing and spoke in mysterious, profound terms. Then he looked at the clay sculptures on the windowsill, which seemed ordinary but had made his instruments malfunction and produced abnormal readings. He also remembered the rumors that these objects could "calm the mind and purify the air." An unsettling thought surfaced against his will: could there really be realms in this world that science couldn't explain? Could it be that his own convictions were what truly amounted to... sitting at the bottom of a well and gazing at the sky?
His face turned deathly pale. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. He opened his mouth, but not a word came out. His faith in science, the very foundation of his fame and livelihood, seemed to have developed a huge crack.
The reporter could tell Professor Sun was in no condition to continue. Their "debunking" expedition was about to turn into a public humiliation, so she hastily tried to smooth things over. "Um... Professor Sun, perhaps the instruments really were unstable today, and the data was inaccurate. We should go back, recalibrate the equipment, and come back another time..."
As she spoke, she motioned for the cameraman, though the camera wasn't on, and the assistants to hurry up and pack their things.
Professor Sun looked dazed. Leaning on his assistant, he all but fled Lin Fan's apartment. He had arrived full of bluster and left in utter disarray.
The property manager followed him out sheepishly, apologizing to Lin Fan again and again.
The door closed, shutting out the commotion outside.
Lin Fan let out a long breath. His back was damp with sweat. He looked at Taishang Laojun and praised him sincerely. "Senior Laojun, you were incredible! A few words from you made that expert question his whole life!"
Laojun smiled serenely. "It was not that my words were sharp. His heart already had a crack in it. Clinging to what one knows is the greatest obstacle of all. Break that attachment, and the mind will collapse of its own accord."
Nüwa sighed softly as well. "The desire for knowledge is a good intention. But if one shuts oneself away and uses one's own limited understanding to judge the heavens, one falls into a demonic delusion. I hope this experience will bring him some insight."
Tong Tian gave a cold snort. "Ants wasting time." To him, a war of words like this was nowhere near as satisfying as a sword strike.
But Lin Fan knew Laojun's method of "convincing them with reason" had worked far better than anything Tong Tian could have done. At least the so-called "debunking experts" probably wouldn't dare bother them again in the short term. Besides, after all this, the authorities would likely reassess the situation. After all, even the most advanced instruments couldn't figure anything out—and had actually been damaged. That alone was immensely valuable for research.
However, Lin Fan had still underestimated how quickly information spread and how complicated public opinion could be.
That night, although the Truth Seeker program didn't air footage from the day's interview—it had evidently been suppressed—a few scattered, vague reports still began circulating online on a small scale. They spread through word of mouth among the property staff who'd been there, neighbors who'd watched, and certain "well-informed people."
[Shocking! 'Paranormal Artworks' Appear in a Jiangcheng Residential Complex—Experts' Instruments Smoke During Testing!]
[Crusader Against Pseudoscience Professor Sun Zhengyi Suffers a Crushing Defeat, Apparently Shaken by a Mysterious Aura!]
[Real High-Dimensional Energy or a New Scam? Uncovering the Mystery Behind the 'Clay Sculpture Gate' and Its Secretive Tenant!]
Headlines designed to grab people's attention began appearing on forums and in social media groups. There was no conclusive evidence or official report, but keywords like "instruments smoking" and "expert left dazed" were enough to fire up netizens' curiosity and imaginations.
For a time, the old Residential Complex where Lin Fan lived—and the name "Lin Fan"—drew even more attention and discussion in certain circles, in a way he would never have wanted. The fame brought not only covetous eyes and trouble, but also the watchful gazes of more people lurking in the shadows, each with their own agenda.
Lin Fan looked at the related posts starting to pop up on his phone and sighed helplessly.
The trouble of becoming "famous far and wide" was only getting worse. What he didn't know was that the turmoil sparked by Goddess Nüwa's clay sculptures had only just begun. After confirming some of the effects of the "Yangyuan Pill," Wang Meng and the deeper darkness behind him were quietly turning their attention to this seemingly ordinary apartment building. Meanwhile, a detailed report on that afternoon's "debunking" operation, along with the baffling test results, lay on Chen Jing's desk at the official special department, awaiting her review and decision.
A storm was brewing. This small rented apartment had already become the heart of it.
Before you continue