The World in the Pot

Gao Tian placed the pot in a brightly lit area, leaning over to examine the situation inside.

On the third floor of the Living Person Apartment, this was the biggest supernatural event, capable of suppressing the killing rules of other ghosts. Gao Tian didn't have to worry about being backlashed by the pot.

He could vaguely see that the scenery at the bottom of the pot resembled the bottom of a miniature cave. In front of the uneven rock walls sat an exquisite skull the size of a figurine. Its clothes were tattered and riddled with holes, maintaining a meditative posture as if in its final moments. The ground was covered with weeds and a small stream, and on the wall behind it, small characters were densely carved. However, the cave itself was small enough that the handwriting on the rock walls was impossible to discern.

What is this?

Did Xu Yuan buy a figurine of a cave immortal and place it at the bottom of the pot?

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Gao Tian changed his angle and turned on his flashlight. He could only vaguely make out the largest five ancient characters: "Wanfa Zhenjun's Legacy."

Wanfa Zhenjun?

This skeleton's name and Daoist name in life must have been Wanfa Zhenjun.

Judging by the name, he sounded incredibly powerful.

No.

Gao Tian vaguely felt that everything at the bottom of the pot, whether it was the dead person, the patterns on the rock walls, or the water waves and plants, was too exquisite.

At first glance, it looked exactly like the real thing, with no discernible difference. The more he looked, the more realistic it became, almost to the point of being indistinguishable from reality.

This wasn't a model at all; it was real people and objects. The entire cave, the real person's corpse sitting in the cave mansion, had been miniaturized to the size of an ornament through some secret technique and placed at the bottom of this pot.

If Wanfa Zhenjun was truly shrunk and placed inside, then the question arose: what was Xu Yuan's purpose in collecting this pot? It couldn't possibly be just to admire it as a figurine.

There must be a secret related to the one called Wanfa Daojun hidden within.

Because he was in the Living Person Apartment, Gao Tian's courage grew, and he tentatively reached his hand into the bottom of the pot, trying to retrieve the complete skeleton of Wanfa Zhenjun from the cave mansion.

But the moment his fingers touched the skeleton, they passed directly through its body and the rock wall behind it, hitting the cold edge of the pot.

A moon in water, a flower in a mirror.

The cave mansion at the bottom of the pot was like a projection. It could only be viewed with the naked eye; once touched, fingers would pass right through.

Now, he couldn't touch it at all.

Gao Tian was still unwilling to give up. The title Wanfa Zhenjun, the sitting posture, and the tattered clothing all indicated he was an ancient person.

He had read some Qidian Novels, where inexplicably, old men lived inside rings, waiting for a destined person to put them on, and then they would impart peerless skills and transmit spiritual energy.

But he had never heard of anyone storing a master's secret manual and corpse in a pot.

Moreover, this era was far more brutal than any web novel. Even if a true Celestial Immortal descended, they might not be able to solve the predicament they faced.

Gao Tian was not resigned to failure. (he) slowly placed the mobile phone into the pot, attempting to capture the tiny characters on the rock wall by adjusting the camera's angle.

With the phone's screen inside the pot, Gao Tian moved his arm to various positions based on feel, taking several photos before retrieving it again.

Tapping on the photo gallery, just as he expected, although the phone had captured images of the text on the pot's wall, the dim lighting rendered it blurry. Aside from the general outline and a few characters, it was impossible to discern what was written.

Fortunately, this was the AI era. He immediately uploaded the captured photos into some AI Repair Software. It quickly completed the illegible handwriting, generating new Ancient Text. It also translated the content into Modern Text.

Now, he could finally see what was written behind Wanfa Daojun in the pot.

Thanks to modern human technology.

Original Text:

When I was seven, everyone in the manor was slaughtered by malevolent spirits. I was left as a lone orphan. Though I reported it to the authorities, the officials were all fools who didn't believe in ghosts, or perhaps they feared the spirits' ferocity and dared not resist.

The ghost with many eyes and long arms murdered over thirty of my relatives. This hatred is etched into my bones, unforgettable until death.

Afterward, I drifted alone and became the disciple of the foremost chivalrous hero in the martial world. After thirty years of arduous cultivation, I mastered the supreme art of the Crimson Sun Palm. Its palm wind could split stone slabs as if cutting through soft fat. I surpassed my master, astonishing everyone at the time.

Just as I was about to seek revenge on the malevolent spirits for the twenty years of suffering, a sudden upheaval occurred--

One day, I returned from vanquishing evil, presenting a severed head as proof of my mission. But I found the mountain gate and its surroundings in disarray. My master, fellow disciples, and even over a hundred servants had all perished overnight. Their heads were half severed, hanging from their necks. The scene was eerily reminiscent of the malevolent spirits' handiwork from years ago.

Sitting alone amidst the dismembered bodies, I pondered through the night. Twenty years of hard training and my resolve for revenge were like a child's flimsy branch against the malevolent spirits, utterly incapable of resisting.

Yet, my heart did not die: If martial arts cannot vanquish evil, are there no immortal methods in this world? Though I knew this path was harder than ascending to heaven, my hatred filled the heavens. How could I give up? Where there are malevolent spirits, there must be sects that suppress demons. Only the arts of true immortals can pacify the netherworld.

吾誓镇尽天下厉鬼,使阴阳归位,幽明两隔.九幽收邪祟,人间复清明.

Translation:

When I was seven years old, everyone in the manor was slaughtered by vengeful ghosts. Only I, a lonely orphan, remained. Although I reported it to the government office, the officials were all foolish and ignorant, refusing to acknowledge the existence of ghosts and monsters in the world. Or perhaps, they were too afraid of their ferocity to resist them.

That Many-eyed Long-handed Ghost, which murdered over thirty of my relatives, this hatred is etched into my bones and will never be forgotten.

Afterward, I drifted alone, becoming the disciple of the foremost hero in the Jianghu. I cultivated diligently for thirty years, mastering the ultimate skill, Crimson Sun Palm. The palm wind it generated could split stone as if it were cutting through rotten fat. I surpassed my master, astonishing everyone of that time.

Just as I was about to seek revenge for the grudge of twenty years, a sudden drastic change occurred—

One day, after returning from vanquishing an evil bandit, I presented the head as proof of my mission. But upon arriving at the mountain gate, I found that inside and outside, my Master, fellow disciples, and even over a hundred menial disciples were all dead overnight. Their heads were half severed, hanging from their necks. This scene was eerily similar to the work of ghosts and monsters back then.

Sitting alone amidst the severed limbs, I pondered through the night. My twenty years of arduous cultivation and my ambition for revenge were like a child's waving a dry branch before the vengeful ghosts, utterly incapable of resisting.

Yet, my heart did not die: If martial arts cannot eliminate evil, are there no Immortal Path Dharma Gates in this world? Although I knew this path was harder than ascending to heaven, my hatred filled the vastness. How could I be willing to give up? Since ghosts and monsters exist, there must be a Sect that Subdues Demons. Only the techniques of a True Immortal can suppress the Netherworld.

I swear to suppress all the vengeful ghosts in the world, to restore Yin and Yang to their proper places, and to separate the living from the dead. The Nine Netherworlds shall receive the evil spirits, and the Human World will regain its clarity.

But I still haven't given up.

If... martial arts are no longer enough to fight vengeful ghosts, then does this world have immortal sects, and a method of becoming immortal?

Although I know this path is more winding than practicing martial arts, I am truly unwilling to accept it. If there are ghosts in this world, there must also be Daoist Sects. Only true Immortals can deal with vengeful ghosts.

I swear, one day, I will suppress all vengeful ghosts in this world. Let the Underworld return to the Underworld, and the Mortal World return to the Mortal World.

The article breaks off here. In fact, judging from the situation on the stone wall, there was clearly more to follow, and the story was not finished.

However, the continuation of the story, the carvings on the stone wall, had sunk deeply due to the passage of time and were completely fused with the stone plate beneath the White Bone True Person, making it impossible to photograph clearly.

From the White Bone True Person's meditative posture and the carvings on the wall, it seems that supernatural events are not a modern phenomenon. As far back as the Feudal Dynasty era, even Noble Families and Martial Arts Sects fell victim to ghosts.

It's just that in their era, supernatural phenomena had not yet fully resurfaced and become rampant. Whether in the records of the Imperial Court or historical books, there were only a few brief mentions, glossed over. The records left in village and family genealogies were dismissed as baseless superstition by later generations who had not witnessed them.

So, did Myriad Laws True Monarch eventually find the Method of Becoming Immortal?

If he hadn't found it, why would he have given himself that Daoist Name? And how could Xu Yuan have carefully kept the Miniature Pot Containing Myriad Laws True Monarch's Remains as a treasure?

But if he had found it, why after a hundred years was he still like a mortal, turning into a handful of loess and a withered bone, far from achieving the transcendence of the Cycle of Life and Death like a true Immortal?

A hundred or a thousand years after his death, not only were the vengeful ghosts in this world not suppressed, but upon entering the modern era, supernatural events had become increasingly rampant and surging, even showing signs of a full resurgence.

Gao Tian looked at the miniature world within the pot, seriously contemplating if there was a way to see Myriad Laws True Monarch's subsequent life story.

Distracted for a moment, his line of sight shifted to the roof. When he turned back to the pot mouth, Gao Tian was suddenly astonished to find that the cave, the people, and the water, which had been like reflections in the pot, had undergone a drastic change, transforming into an entirely new world.

Cement roads, with the silhouettes of skyscrapers lining the darkness on both sides.

"How is this possible?"

"No, this is impossible."

Seeing that the pot had simulated a new scene, Gao Tian found it incredibly difficult to believe that the scene before him was real.

A bus was driving on an empty road. The world in the pot seemed to be in the dead of night; apart from the bus itself and the light from its headlights illuminating the path ahead, the darkness on either side of the road, which seemed like nothingness, was completely invisible.

If the scene presented in the pot were merely this, it wouldn't have surprised Gao Tian so much.

The iron shell of the bus was semi-transparent, allowing the observer to see the scene inside the carriage.

It was as if this red pot was deliberately displaying this, transmitting some kind of signal to the person outside the pot.

Besides the driver, there were a total of five passengers in this miniature bus.

No, strictly speaking, one of them was a highly decomposed, almost mummified corpse, making it difficult to say if it could be counted among the "passengers."

And the one sitting behind it, the moment Gao Tian saw him, his mind went blank, and for an instant, he even forgot to breathe.