Why Did You Have to Scare Me?!
The Executive Building.
Zhou Muneo suddenly raised his head and glanced sideways, saying:
"Old Hu, let's go for a walk, just stroll around."
The accompanying official looked somewhat surprised, and Hu Zhongli was also puzzled, but he nodded nonetheless:
"Of course we'll listen to Councilor Zhou."
They left the Executive Building, followed the young congressman, walked into an alley, passed through it, and arrived at the outside of a hotel.
Shen Baobao and Kong Dongyan were taken aback and bowed to the group.
Zhou Muneo paused, looked around, but saw nothing.
Hu Zhongli was somewhat surprised:
"Mr. Congressman?"
Zhou Muneo paused for a moment, then looked up at the crescent moon without speaking.
In the alley.
Zhang Fusheng gazed at the full moon overhead.
This scene was too bizarre.
He simultaneously viewed the sky from both his own and Zhou Muneo's perspectives.
The clouds and mist drifted in the same spot, the only difference being the moon.
One is a crescent moon, the other a full moon.
This is too bizarre; I'm not even in the divine realm yet!
Zhang Fusheng's hair stood on end; his once fair and delicate fists were now covered in thick calluses, tinged with a bluish-black hue.
He looked around, sweat streaming down his forehead.
I'm still in reality.
Yet it's not in reality.
Where is this place?
Quietly, quietly.
Zhang Fusheng's thoughts entered the divine realm, instantly appearing in the Eight Sceneries Palace. He walked to the Gate of the Past and peered into his own past from just one minute ago!
He saw it.
He really saw it.
The scene revealed within the Gate of the Past.
I am not in the alley, but...
Instead, it was on a wooden bridge.
It's just a wooden bridge.
From this unique, high-dimensional perspective, Zhang Fusheng can clearly see everything about the bridge.
It is neither stone, nor metal, nor iron, nor wood; the bridge surface is mottled and worn, and it appears narrow and isolated, shrouded in a perpetual gray mist.
Decay, decay, annihilation
A sense of 'loneliness' permeates the bridge, a feeling of emptiness and oblivion, pervading the bridge and everywhere around it.
And at the bridgehead.
A monument stands there.
On the stele are the words [Naihe].
The Helplessness Bridge.
Helplessness Bridge!!
Zhang Fusheng's scalp tingled. Damn it!
He observed himself earlier, before entering the alley, wanting to knock on the door to stop himself from entering, but then suddenly stopping.
It's useless.
I was guided up the [Helplessness Bridge].
Whether you go into the alley or not makes no difference.
The followers of the Ancestor of Land Immortals have already set their sights on him; this calamity is inevitable sooner or later.
There's no escaping it.
Changing the past in this situation will only cause you to lose control over a period of time. What if you die then?
Then there was truly no way to reverse the situation.
Zhang Fusheng's breathing quickened. With a thought, the scene inside the door collapsed into darkness, then became colorful again, presenting the scene from a moment ago once more.
Back then, I was running back and forth between the alley entrance and the alley end, trying to find my way out.
However, within this gate, from this high-dimensional perspective...
Zhang Fusheng realized that he hadn't moved at all, not even turned around—on the Helplessness Bridge, there's no turning back.
It was solemn, terrifying, and despairing.
It is the destination of everything, the end of everything, the inevitable path for the dead.
The thought returned to itself. Opening its eyes, it found itself still in the alley, a full moon overhead, and an eerie silence all around.
Aren't you coming out yet?
He spoke in a low voice, his breathing rapid, silently communicating with the Eight Forms of Body and Spirit stored in the Contract Book. If he were to fully integrate them, it would take an unknown amount of time.
But what if it's just one aspect of form and spirit?
The fourth form is splattered with blood, the fifth form is decay and chaos, the sixth form is devoured by beasts, or is it the eighth form, an ancient tomb?
It seems like there's no need to think.
The form and spirit of the ancient tomb have become one with its own.
In that instant.
A long passage of his past cultivation appeared in Zhang Fusheng's mind, his master Hong Tianbao's cultivation of the Ancient Tomb Form, the vast intent and realm washing over his spirit and will!
The autumn wind is bleak and cold.
A myriad of incomprehensible thoughts welled up in Zhang Fusheng's mind. He saw everything returning to dust, he saw an ancient tomb, and a monument with his real name on it.
[Zhang Fusheng]!
"The five senses are inherently empty; all that I have come into this life is to cherish this body."
"The ghostly spirit guarding the tomb flies under the night moon; the foolish soul of the lost corpse howls in the autumn wind."
Zhang Fusheng murmured to himself, "Eight Forms of Body and Spirit, each form has its own unique wonder, but this eighth form seems to be the most wonderful of all."
In that instant, he seemed to have witnessed every step of his life, from birth to death, and foreseen all the signs of his afterlife.
At the moment of his death, his face was pale, yet he resembled a flower blooming in spring, possessing a unique and eerie quality!
Long after death, the body rotted and swelled, creating Giant Contemplation!
Later, the skin necroses, pus and blood flow out, the stench of death fills the air, and the [impurity] of the flesh begins to fully bloom—the moment of bloodshed!
Time seemed to stand still at that moment.
Only the self observes the afterlife.
It is this fleeting moment, yet it spans year after year.
The body, smeared with blood, began to rot and decay, no longer recognizable as human. It had clearly become a mass of rotting flesh teeming with mosquitoes and flies, with white worms crawling in and out!
After decay and chaos, it becomes food for beasts.
Wild crows, hunting dogs, and hungry wolves— Zhang Fusheng watched them scramble for carrion from a unique perspective, watching his own corpse being devoured completely.
In the wasteland, half of the remaining flesh lay on the grass, and the tattered skin hung vacant in the evening breeze.
All that remained were scattered, withered bones.
Later, the bones were all eroded by the winds of the passing years—this is the Scattered Bones Form.
All of this has come to pass.
In this world, all that remains of me is a cenotaph.
That's the grave.
New graves are turned into old graves, and weeds grow rampant; old graves are turned into ancient graves, and the incense offerings cease to burn out.
"Come to the other side."
Zhang Fusheng muttered to himself:
"I am but a lonely grave in the desolate wilderness; if I am so, then who is not?"
"Gods and immortals, no matter how immortal they may be, will eventually turn into a handful of yellow earth and a lonely, ancient grave."
He saw year after year, year after year.
On the ancient tombstone, one's own name gradually becomes blurred, blown away by the wind year after year.
As for this...
The eighth form and spirit, the Ancient Tomb Form, is complete.
Zhang Fusheng sighed softly, a sigh that carried with it countless vicissitudes of life.
The alley remained silent.
He raised his eyes, wondering what the Aspect of the Ancient Tomb could do. Unlike the previous seven forms, which directly manifested in his body, this one seemed different.
The Ancient Tomb Form seems to embody something beyond the 'spirit' and 'soul'.
Zhang Fusheng looked at the alley again.
The alley is no longer an alley.
He actually saw the essence of the alleyway directly in reality—or rather, because after comprehending the Aspect of the Ancient Tomb and experiencing countless years of life and death,
You can actually see the Helplessness Bridge at a glance!
Everything in the alley began to fade, fade.
The road surface underfoot had turned into a dilapidated bridge surface.
Ahead lay a deep, dark expanse, with no way out in sight. As for what lay behind?
Zhang Fusheng instinctively wanted to turn around, but he couldn't, feeling an immense, invisible pressure.
It felt as if the entire weight of the underworld was resting on his shoulders!
Memories of the past surged uncontrollably through my thoughts.
The air was extremely viscous.
There's no turning back, there's no turning back.
"I'm so scared!" the boy cried, his voice a mixture of tears and laughter, unsure whether he was afraid of the Helplessness Bridge.
I'm still afraid of that handful of yellow earth and that lonely grave a thousand years from now.
All things in this vast world are scattered by the wind, and even the last trace is being erased.
Emptiness, nothingness.
The aura of the ancient tomb permeated his mind, and he had never longed for eternity, for immortality, as much as he did now.
Zhang Fusheng suddenly found himself on the Helplessness Bridge, but the Helplessness Bridge was not in that alley.
The Helplessness Bridge seems to be leading somewhere.
It is -- the suburbs.
I see, I see.
He suddenly realized that the followers of those Ancestor of Land Immortals had somehow led him to the Helplessness Bridge.
Then, using the Helplessness Bridge, I will lead myself to them.
Raise your head.
The moon was still full overhead.
It seems that in the underworld, the full moon hangs forever high.
I don't know how much time has passed.
Have we arrived yet?
Through the eerie, gray fog that enveloped the bridge, the blurry scene remained unchanged.
The Helplessness Bridge seems to have led us to some place.
The fog is dissipating, dissipating.
The Helplessness Bridge appeared on the yellow earth, outside Chongyang City. In the distance, the city lights shone brightly, and all around were shadowy figures.
They were looking at themselves.
Despite relying on the [Ancient Tomb Form], whose purpose is currently unknown,
Zhang Fusheng saw through the illusion on the bridge and truly saw it, but he could neither turn back nor dare to go forward.
This is the Helplessness Bridge.
Taking that step forward—whether it leads to life or death, who knows?
He stood there, afraid to move, sweat dripping down his face.
He was trembling, trembling because of the solemnity of the Helplessness Bridge, yet his mind was completely clear.
Like an ancient tomb in the autumn wind.
Everything has passed.
Suddenly, the bridge transformed into a beam of light and disappeared into the sleeve of an old man.
Zhang Fusheng fell to the ground, panting heavily, sweat pouring from every pore of his body, quickly soaking the muddy ground.
They're no longer on the bridge.
That invisible, oppressive feeling, like the entire solemn underworld, also dissipated completely.
But as he looked around at the figures, and at the old man who had spoken to him earlier and was now taking away the Bridge of Helplessness Bridge, he realized that he was a different person.
He's still so scared.
"We should have waited for that esteemed person to arrive."
The old man gazed calmly at the trembling boy and spoke in a serene tone:
"I originally thought that the person who could escape from the God of Plague and enrage my lord must be an extraordinary Innate Great Realm."
"So it wasn't."
Zhang Fusheng's face was pale, and his heart was heavy— the Helplessness Bridge was gone, but here, there were still dozens of people and a mysterious old man.
Those dozens of people, each exuding the aura of Martial Arts Master, though it's unknown how many dirty tricks they've committed, are all Martial Arts Master.
As for that old man, his level of attainment was even more unknown.
Great Grandmaster?
Even, congenital?
Zhang Fusheng didn't know.
The old man gazed at the trembling boy and spoke slowly and deliberately:
"We will take you away. You will build Blood Shrine and a great altar for our Lord, play the Dharma drum, and strike the divine gong."
"If so, my Lord may forgive you."
After a pause, he spoke indifferently:
"Aren't you getting up?"
The boy stood up shakily.
Follow them?
To erect Blood Shrine, cast a ritual altar, beat the ritual drums and gongs, and then allow oneself to be possessed by that Ancestor of Land Immortals?
No.
Not allowed.
Absolutely not!
Even if we can't beat these people or this old man, as long as we can buy some time, we can let Zhou Muneo and Hu Zhongli arrive!
Zhang Fusheng's expression gradually hardened, and he turned around, staring intently at the mysterious old man:
"What if I don't leave?"
The old man smiled:
"Then we'll just break your limbs, tie you up, and we'll build you Blood Shrine and altar."
"We will grab your broken body, grab your head and kowtow to the Blood Shrine, grab your hands and beat the Dharma drum."
"Thus, the great gaze of my lord can still descend upon your soul and your body through the Heaven and Earth Five Villages Temple in your divine realm."
With each word he uttered, each sentence he spoke, Zhang Fusheng's breathing became more rapid.
He has already seen the ancient tomb.
He sought immortality.
The boy's face seemed pale, yet he remained calm, more calm than ever before.
"Those who usurp the throne."
A group of figures surrounded him. The old man who had put away the Bridge of Helplessness Bridge walked forward calmly.
He spoke calmly:
Should we resist?
"Will you rely on your fully opened internal organs, or on your divine realm to resist?"
Zhang Fusheng remained silent, his body tense, gathering his strength.
The old man smiled:
"You are indeed an extraordinary genius. You are only a master of opening the two internal organs, yet you have already attained the divine realm and Spiritual Perfection."
Zhang Fusheng trembled slightly as he watched the old man approach.
It seemed like a mixture of fear and excitement?
The old man said leisurely:
"What a pity, genius? I am one too."
The old man's body twisted slightly, a manifestation of divine thought interfering with reality; he was clearly also someone who had entered the True Spiritual Realm!
One, a large quantity?
Zhang Fusheng's eyebrows twitched violently.
He heard the old man say:
"As a Martial Arts Master, I have also opened the True Spiritual Realm. This time, if I capture you, my lord will surely reward me handsomely."
The old man smiled and said:
"At that time, I will be able to break through the physical barriers and become a Grandmaster—no, a Great Master!"
He excitedly licked his lips, staring intently at the boy whose face showed a look of confusion.
Yes, we should have waited for that esteemed person to arrive in person.
But this boy is just a scoundrel!
Once that important person arrives, the credit will be gone.
Such tremendous merit—how could one not seize it for oneself?
It would be a sin not to take what Heaven has given you.
The old man laughed heartily.
The boy, who was trembling with extreme fear, looked even more bewildered.
He asked blankly:
"You are Martial Arts Master?"
The old man's gaze fell on the boy, and he nodded slightly.
The boy, panting heavily, silently told Zhou Muneo not to bring Hu Zhongli along.
The Helplessness Bridge.
Be mine.
He closed his eyes, trembling slightly.
Zhang Fusheng said softly:
"You."
"That really scared me!"
Word by word, sentence by word.
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, a steely light flowed around the boy's body, and the Qi and Blood around his fists rose and fell, reflecting layer upon layer of profound and True Intention scenes.
Whether it's the roar of a black tiger or the surging of the sea,
Or perhaps a dark snake coils up, spring thunder rumbles, mountains suddenly open, and a great stele shakes the earth.
The boy's clothes were torn.
He swelled up, swelled up.
The twelve layers of True Intention collided with each other, and the giant, sixteen feet tall, stood on the earth under the moonlight, his heartbeat like a muffled drum, shaking the sand and gravel on the ground.
The old man stared in disbelief. He looked at the twelve layers of scenery behind the giant, at the billowing Blood Qi Beacon, and at the giant trembling and shaking!
I trembled at the sense of certain death I felt on the Helplessness Bridge of Helplessness.
The trembling giant spoke in a low voice:
"A Martial Arts Master."
"How dare you try to capture me?!"
Zhang Fusheng roared in the wilderness far from the city, the ground beneath his feet trembling slightly. Ten meters, a hundred meters!
The ground shook incessantly, as if an earth dragon were turning over, and even small pebbles within a hundred-meter radius were shaken into the air!
"Why are you scaring me with the Helplessness Bridge?!"
The lingering feeling of being destined to die and decay still lingers in my heart.
Zhang Fusheng raised his palms, and those palms, like huge monuments, slammed them hard onto the ground!
The monument stands tall and shakes the earth.
A thousand meters of land, crisscrossed and torn apart.
The Dali spread outwards, creating waves of earth and tearing deep trenches, tens of meters deep, extending for kilometers!
Today's monthly pass is so round and beautiful!