The Clash of Pseudoscience

The aftermath of yesterday afternoon's "expert debunking" farce had not died down with Professor Sun Zhengyi and the others leaving in disgrace. Instead, like a stone tossed into a still lake, the ripples continued spreading through corners of the internet and the real world. Though no official media outlets had reported on it, keywords like "smoking equipment," "experts at a loss for words," and "mysterious aura," combined with vague descriptions of the scene and deliberately guided speculation, had been circulating on local forums and in social media groups. They had cast an even more mysterious air over the old residential building where Lin Fan lived. Whenever neighbors passed his door, their eyes held a hint of curiosity, reverence, and even a trace of barely perceptible distance.

Lin Fan felt somewhat helpless about it, but he was more wary than anything. He knew that this kind of unwanted attention was no good; it would only attract more trouble. He kept to himself even more than before and, aside from necessary shopping, hardly went out at all. He devoted more of his time to practicing the Supreme Clarity Heart-Cleansing Mantra and studying the medical principles Laojun occasionally taught him. Surrounded by the "Xi Rang" statue and the many artworks imbued with Dao rhythm, his progress was slow but steady. His soul grew increasingly substantial, and his five senses became much sharper. He could even faintly sense the intermittent flow of the watchers' presence outside his door.

Master Tongtian was growing impatient with the increasingly frequent "spying" outside. The sword intent around him was like a blade about to leap from its sheath, its chill piercing. If Nüwa had not often soothed him with gentle words—and if he himself had not understood the chain reactions that reckless action might trigger in this world—he would likely have already sent an invisible sword intent flying through the air to clear the area.

Nüwa remained as serene as ever. Her "creative work" had not stopped because of the disturbances outside; instead, it had entered a new phase. She no longer limited herself to individual statues or paintings, but began trying to combine different elements into small "scenes." For instance, beside a little grass plant she had sculpted by hand, whose leaves seemed to glisten with rolling dewdrops, she might place a clay fawn gazing up at the sky. Or in front of a painting of a mist-shrouded mountain stream, she might set down several ordinary pebbles that seemed casually scattered but secretly formed a certain array. Once assembled, each little "scene" became a world of its own, its Dao rhythms interweaving. The atmosphere in the room grew even more unpredictable—at times as fresh as a mountain forest after rain, at others as weighty as an ancient mountain. Lin Fan benefited greatly from being there, but he also couldn't help worrying that these increasingly mysterious "arrangements" might attract attention from even higher levels.

Taishang Laojun was the most unruffled of them all. Every day, he either sipped tea or examined the ordinary medicinal herbs Lin Fan had bought, apparently conducting some kind of "downscaling" research. He seemed to be trying to use this world's most basic herbs to reproduce a hint of the effects of Primordial Era alchemy. From time to time, he would also offer Lin Fan a few simple pointers on the properties of herbs and the interactions of the five elements, opening Lin Fan's eyes.

But the tree longed for stillness, while the wind would not cease. Professor Sun Zhengyi had clearly learned nothing from yesterday's defeat. Or rather, he could not accept the collapse of the scientific convictions he had held so firmly in the face of "facts"—though he refused to acknowledge them. The intense cognitive dissonance drove him to choose an even more extreme path. He would use a more "scientific" and "thorough" approach to prove that yesterday's anomalies had been a fluke, and defend both his reputation as an "anti-pseudoscience crusader" and the worldview on which his livelihood depended.

And so, the afternoon of the day after the debunking fiasco brought an even bigger spectacle.

This time, it wasn't just the Truth Seeker crew and Sun Zhengyi who showed up. The convoy was larger. In addition to the interview van, there were several official vehicles bearing the insignia of a well-known university's physics laboratory and materials analysis center. There was even a van belonging to a civilian "Association for the Investigation of Paranormal Phenomena," an organization somewhere between a hobby group and a semi-commercial institution.

Sun Zhengyi stood at the front of the crowd in a brand-new white coat, his hair even more meticulously groomed than before. But the dark circles under his eyes and the trace of obsession and madness lurking in his gaze revealed that he had not slept the night before. Standing beside him were several middle-aged men in white coats or formal suits: Professor Zhang from the physics department, Director Li from the chemistry department, and a technical expert from the materials analysis center. Every one of them wore a solemn expression and the academic authority's usual air of arrogance and scrutiny. The female reporter was there too. Alongside her professional curiosity, her eyes now held a greater eagerness to watch the show.

"Mr. Lin Fan!" Sun Zhengyi didn't wait for the property staff to knock. He strode forward and pounded hard on Lin Fan's door, his voice brimming with barely restrained excitement. "Please open the door! We've brought more advanced and comprehensive testing equipment! There may have been some misunderstandings or equipment failures yesterday. Today, we must give the public a clear answer with indisputable scientific data!"

His words rang clearly through the hallway from the microphone the female reporter had switched on, carrying into the apartment as well.

Lin Fan sighed behind the door. What was coming couldn't be avoided forever. He glanced at the three Saints inside.

Master Tongtian's brows were tightly furrowed, and the chill in his eyes had nearly frozen over. His patience was clearly about to run out.

Nüwa gently shook her head and set down the clay crane she had been sculpting, its wings spread as if ready to take flight. A trace of pity showed in her eyes.

Taishang Laojun merely chuckled and nodded to Lin Fan, signaling that he needn't worry.

Lin Fan steadied himself, arranged his expression once more, and opened the door.

The spectacle outside was even more outrageous than yesterday. Cameras with long lenses crowded the hallway, along with all sorts of oddly shaped precision instruments with blinking indicator lights. Experts and staff filled every inch of space, their gazes probing, curious, or disdainful.

"Mr. Lin Fan, given yesterday's unusual circumstances, we've joined forces with experts from several disciplines and brought the most advanced testing equipment currently available in the country," Sun Zhengyi said before anyone else could speak, his tone carrying unquestionable authority. "We'll conduct a comprehensive environmental scan of your home, analyze the material composition, map the energy fields, and even check some of your... basic physiological indicators to ensure the data is complete and accurate. Please cooperate with us. This is also to dispel the rumors and restore your 'good name'!" He deliberately emphasized the words "good name," as if he had already decided there was something wrong with Lin Fan.

Professor Zhang from the physics department pushed up his glasses and added in a heavily academic tone, "Science is rigorous. Every phenomenon must withstand repeatable, verifiable testing. Today's tests will strictly follow the double-blind experimental principle to ensure that the results are objective and impartial."

Director Li from the chemistry department stared at Lin Fan as if inspecting a rare chemical specimen. "We'll collect samples from the air and dust inside your home, as well as trace materials from the surfaces of those 'artworks.' No synthetic chemicals or abnormal isotopes will escape detection!"

Faced with this aggressive "scientific alliance," Lin Fan sneered inwardly, but his face still wore an expression of helpless innocence. "Experts, I really don't understand what you're doing. I just have some ordinary things here. You can test them if you like, but I'll say the same thing as before: don't damage my belongings, and leave as soon as you're done."

He stepped aside again. This time, he couldn't completely stop the camera operators from coming in. All he could do was keep them near the entrance and aim their lenses at the experts and equipment instead of the three Saints deeper inside the room.

The experts and staff filed into the apartment, and their instruments immediately began to hum and whir. Indicator lights threw bizarre colors across the room.

"Begin the full scan!"

"Air sample collection complete!"

"Activate the high-precision mass spectrometer!"

"Electromagnetic spectrum monitoring is normal!"

"Prepare for thermal imaging!"

The experts issued one instruction after another, as if carrying out a serious scientific mission. They first trained their equipment on the "Xi Rang" statue on the windowsill and the little clay animals.

But then the same thing that had happened yesterday happened again!

When a quantum field disturbance detector—said to be capable of detecting "any known or unknown form of energy"—was aimed at the "Xi Rang," the data on its screen began fluctuating wildly. A chaotic field containing an incomprehensibly ordered structure appeared, but then a series of crackling short circuits sounded inside the instrument. Its screen instantly filled with static, and it shut down completely!

"What's going on?!" the technician operating the device cried out.

"Switch to the backup probe! Increase the shielding level!" Sun Zhengyi ordered, his expression dark.

The backup probe had barely been aimed at the spirited clay crane Nüwa had just sculpted when the same thing happened again. The probe overheated, and the fuse blew!

"Report! The material analysis shows that the clay is normal and contains no special additives. But... its molecular structure displays a nearly perfect 'natural Fibonacci spiral.' How could that be achieved by hand?!" The materials analysis expert stared at the computer screen in disbelief.

"Thermal imaging shows that the surface temperatures of the clay sculptures and paintings match the room temperature, but the heat distribution in the surrounding space... appears in an 'absolutely balanced' state that violates the second law of thermodynamics?!" Professor Zhang from the physics department looked at the thermal image, his voice wavering.

"Air composition analysis complete! The negative oxygen ion concentration is... a hundred times higher than the national standard! And it contains several unidentified compounds similar to 'beneficial information factors' that are extremely good for the human body?!" Director Li from the chemistry department clutched the test report, his hands trembling.

One test result after another came in. Far from proving the "scam" Sun Zhengyi had expected, they kept producing one piece of "abnormal data" after another that overturned existing scientific understanding! The data corroborated one another, all pointing to the same conclusion: this room, along with the seemingly ordinary objects inside it, truly possessed strange properties that current science could not explain!

The experts' expressions grew more and more grave, their earlier arrogance and confidence gradually replaced by shock and confusion. They tried to explain the results with existing theories, only to hit a wall at every turn. The equipment failures and abnormal readings only added to the eerie atmosphere.

Fine beads of cold sweat appeared on Sun Zhengyi's forehead. He stared at the clay sculptures and paintings, still displayed in perfect quiet, as if they were monsters mocking him. He couldn't accept it! He wouldn't accept it!

"It must be some kind of high technology we haven't mastered yet! Maybe a special nanomaterial, or... or some kind of new psychological suggestion device!" Sun Zhengyi shouted, losing control. He spun toward Lin Fan, his gaze sharp. "Lin Fan! Who's backing you? What technology did you use?! Come clean!"

Lin Fan looked at Sun Zhengyi, who was nearly lost to obsession. He felt nothing, only a little pity. He spread his hands and replied calmly, "Professor Sun, I'm just an ordinary person. You brought the most advanced equipment. Whatever it measured is what it measured. I don't know why things turned out this way either. Maybe, like the old gentleman said yesterday, there are things instruments can't measure." He smoothly steered the conversation toward Laojun.

Only then did Sun Zhengyi and the other experts notice the old man sitting at the table in the corner of the room. His hair and beard were white, and he had an immortal air about him. He was leisurely sipping tea, as if the commotion around him had nothing to do with him.

As though he had grabbed a lifeline, Sun Zhengyi immediately turned his accusations toward Laojun. "It was you! You were putting on that mysterious act yesterday! Who are you, exactly? What do you have to do with these... these things?!"

Taishang Laojun slowly set down his teacup and looked at Sun Zhengyi. His gaze was calm, yet seemed able to see right through him. He smiled faintly, but instead of answering Sun Zhengyi's question, he asked:

"Doctor, you use instruments to measure things. Have you ever measured the thoughts within yourself? The breath of heaven and earth? The wonders of creation?"

Sun Zhengyi froze, then snapped, "Don't change the subject! We're discussing science! Verifiable facts!"

"Science?" Laojun stroked his beard, his tone still calm. "If science is not for seeking truth and serving the people, then how does it differ from the arts of those who fixate on turning stone into gold? Do you come here today to seek truth? Or to prove that you are... 'right'?"

His words struck Sun Zhengyi like a sword to the heart! His face flushed instantly. He wanted to argue, but found himself speechless. Had he really brought his team here out of a pure desire to learn? Or had it been more about saving face and proving that he was the one who was "right"?

Laojun did not wait for a reply. He continued slowly, "Your instruments can measure the motion of particles and analyze the composition of elements. Their precision is impressive. But how could heaven and earth be limited to particles and elements? How could data encompass the wonders of the human heart? You fixate on the 'visible' and ignore the 'invisible'; you fixate on 'breaking things down' and forget the 'whole.' Trying to use such a narrow view to measure the vast sea of the Dao is like climbing a tree to catch a fish—a futile joke."

He gestured toward the clay sculptures on the windowsill. "The wonder of these things lies not in their clay, but in their spirit. The sculptor uses heart and soul to communicate with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, infusing the form with the Dao. That is why they can bring peace to an area and nourish all things. How could your instruments measure this? How could your hearts contain it?"

Laojun's voice was not loud, but it carried a strange penetrating power, like the tones of the Great Dao resounding in the hearts of every expert. Their expensive, sophisticated instruments now seemed the greatest of ironies. Faced with the data that kept appearing, data they could not explain, they looked utterly powerless.

Professor Zhang from the physics department stared blankly at the report in his hand, which showed that "the laws of thermodynamics were locally invalid," and murmured, "The whole... the invisible... Have we really overlooked something?"

Director Li from the chemistry department looked at the analysis results showing "unknown beneficial information factors," his eyes clouded with confusion. "Heart and soul communicating with the spiritual energy of heaven and earth? That... that's far too idealistic..."

The other experts exchanged glances as well, their convictions shaken.

Sun Zhengyi was the one hit hardest. The edifice of science on which he had built his life was tottering under Laojun's questions, which went straight to the heart of the matter, and the ironclad "facts" before his eyes—though they were inexplicable under current scientific theories. His face turned deathly pale and his lips trembled. He wanted to say something, but it felt as though his throat were blocked. In the end, all he managed was a low groan:

"No! Impossible! This has to be a scam! A more sophisticated scam!" He had fallen into the closed loop of his own reasoning, rejecting any information beyond the limits of his understanding.

At that moment, Master Tongtian, who had been sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed, seemed to have finally grown utterly impatient with the ceaseless noise. He did not open his eyes or make any movement, yet an invisible, intangible will, vast as a sea of stars, spread silently outward like quicksilver spilling across the floor!

It was not an attack, and it was not directed at anyone. It was merely the natural expression of his essential existence: an inadvertent leak of one ten-billionth of the pressure radiating from a life form beyond the mortal realm.

Yet even that tiny leak was like a storm to the room's delicate, precision scientific instruments!

Crack, crack, crack—

Beep—beep—ALERT!

"The screen's gone black!"

"The data storage module is reporting an error!"

In an instant, every instrument that was running—whether it detected energy, analyzed materials, or scanned images—let out a piercing alarm. Their screens flickered a few times before going black. Indicator lights flashed wildly and then went out. Wisps of smoke rose from their components, and the whole room filled with the pungent smell of burnt electronics!

The experts and technicians were stunned. They stared at the expensive equipment, now reduced to heaps of scrap metal in their hands and at their sides, speechless and helpless.

Even the invisible pressure that filled the room made everyone's heart sink. It was as if they had suddenly been plunged into a deep abyss. A nameless awe and fear rose from the depths of their souls, leaving them nearly unable to breathe and desperate to flee.

Sun Zhengyi bore the brunt of it. His mind seemed to freeze. He stared at the wrecked instruments filling the room and felt the suffocating, invisible pressure. The last of his mental defenses collapsed. With a loud cry, he clutched his head and stumbled out of the apartment as if he had seen a ghost, then fled downstairs in a panicked scramble.

The other experts and staff came to their senses as if waking from a dream. They no longer cared about scientific rigor or giving the public an explanation. They frantically gathered what equipment remained—or rather, abandoned it—and scrambled to escape the "eerie" place where their instruments had failed and their convictions had crumbled.

The female reporter and camera operator were terrified too. Though they had not really felt the invisible pressure, the sight of every instrument in the room smoking and breaking down at once had been horrifying. They quickly followed the crowd out.

In the blink of an eye, the room that had just been crammed full of people was quiet again. Only the mess on the floor and the lingering smell of burnt electronics remained.

Lin Fan looked at the empty doorway and hallway, then at the three Saints inside, who remained perfectly calm. He let out a long, long breath.

This clash of "pseudoscience" had ended with the collective "demise" of the scientific instruments and the collapse of the experts' convictions.

Master Tongtian slowly opened his eyes and glanced toward the door. "Peace and quiet at last," he said coldly.

Nüwa sighed softly. "What a needless ordeal."

Taishang Laojun chuckled and said to Lin Fan, "Young friend, it seems you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while now."

Lin Fan nodded with a bitter smile. He knew that after all this, especially once word spread that all the instruments had mysteriously broken down, few "experts" would dare come to invite humiliation upon themselves anytime soon. The trouble caused by his growing "fame" seemed to have eased for now, in an unexpected way.

But he also knew this was only on the surface. Official surveillance was still in place, the Black Tiger Gang's Wang Meng had yet to reveal his attitude, and Zhou Wenyuan had not stopped searching for the "master artist." Meanwhile, the phenomena behind those wrecked instruments—phenomena modern science could not explain—were bound to draw attention from higher-level authorities and more covert forces.

The real storm might be gathering faster behind this brief "peace and quiet." He glanced at the sky outside the window. The clouds seemed even heavier than before.