Chapter 28: Entering the Stone Gate

Driven by self-interest, the crowd naturally did not want anyone among them to gain more than they did, yet they were powerless to stop it. None dared to leap onto the fifty-third step as Chen Hongxu had done. Some even secretly hoped Chen would find a way to break the deadlock; after all, they were only slightly stronger than ordinary people, and if they were truly trapped in this hellish place for ten days or a fortnight, it was hard to say if they would starve to death.

Chen Hongxu’s bold actions were not driven by a desire for attention, much less by any concern for the safety of those around him. Upon sensing the runes emerging from the transparent barrier in the air, he felt a faint intuition that if he stepped up just once more, he could understand—or even master—these runes. He felt like someone watching a gripping film who, just as the climax approached, had the power cut off; he was left craving more, his mind racing with possibilities.

The moment he stepped onto the fifty-third stair, Chen felt as if he had been immobilized, unable to move his body even an inch. Just as he was feeling surprised and bewildered, the uneven texture under his feet returned, yet this time it was different from the previous fifty-two; it seemed as if the markings beneath his soles were constantly shifting. Chen closed his eyes, ignoring his inability to move, and focused intently on the surging changes of the runes beneath his feet.

On the fifty-second step, the crowd held their breath as they watched Chen’s trouser legs burst, and a tangible, spiral of purple energy surged from his calves to envelop his entire body. Even the most dim-witted among them understood that Chen had likely gained an immense advantage. There was no lack of jealousy, but they were still weighing the risks of leaping up themselves.

Fan Caobao stood with his staff, looking entirely out of place among the crowd. He kept a cold, watchful eye on them like a leopard waiting to pounce; if anyone dared to snatch Chen’s opportunity, his staff would ensure they remembered the lesson.

As expected, after weighing the risks for a moment, someone leaped up, intending to claim a share of the spoils. Fan was surprised to see that the first to jump was an old acquaintance, Zhang Shufang—a result that differed from his suspicion that Su Daji, who loved petty theft and opportunism, would be the first. Still, that did not stop him from intervening.

Fan’s staff extended like a spring, a flash of yellow light at its tip effectively blocking Zhang’s path. Her pupils constricted, and she swiped a hand to deflect the staff, but the moment she made contact, the yellow light flared violently, terrifying her into falling and rolling backward in a most ungraceful and wretched display. Fan, his expression peculiar, shook his staff and looked away, ignoring her humiliation.

Zhang Shufang pressed her lips together, stood up with hands braced against the ground, and stared at Fan with icy eyes. "Your power has grown, and so has your nerve. You dare to block me?" She was filled with turmoil; a person who had once groveled before her, someone who had only relied on family connections to throw his weight around and had never caught her eye, now possessed the strength to challenge her. Most infuriatingly, he lacked the arrogance of a small man who had suddenly struck it rich; he acted as if this were all perfectly natural, which she found unbearable.

Fan tightened his grip on the staff, his own heart a storm of conflicting emotions. He was not a man who usually fought to the death over trifles, but this concerned his brother, and there was no room for negotiation. Casting a cold glance at Zhang, he abandoned all pretense of their old friendship. "If you dare to try again," he said flatly, "do not blame me if my staff shows no mercy." Zhang narrowed her eyes and took a step forward, her aura surging.

Fan and Zhang were at least acquaintances with room for dialogue, but others cared nothing for Fan’s stance. As the two stood in a tense standoff, a group of people pushed off from the ground, leaping toward the fifty-third step like moths to a flame. Fan wanted to stop them, but there were over a dozen of them; even with three heads and six arms, he could not hold them all back. Noticing the situation, Zhang stopped wasting time on Fan, glared, and turned to leap up with the rest.

Yet none of them got their wish. Just as they were about to touch the step, a massive wave of yellow light surged from it, and lifelike gods and ghosts materialized from the light, sweeping everyone back down.

Fan breathed a sigh of relief and noticed that everyone who had fallen back was looking at Su Daji with strange expressions. Su was miserable, knowing they suspected her, for until now, it seemed only Ma Ji possessed the skill to conjure such demons and spirits out of thin air. She did not want to take the blame for something she hadn't done. She spread her hands and said earnestly, "It wasn't Ma Ji. If he truly had the power to repel all of you at once, given my personality, you would all be dead by now." It was blunt and, therefore, convincing—devoid of flowery language, even carrying a hint of cruelty. The others considered it and realized she was right; if Ma Ji actually possessed such strength, it was hard to say how many of them would still be alive.

"Look..." someone suddenly exclaimed.

The crowd looked up to see threads of golden light scattering from the sky, while the demons and ghosts that had surged from the step were now imprinted onto Chen Hongxu’s body like a mural. Before anyone could speculate further or attempt another provocation, all the anomalies vanished. Chen slowly opened his eyes, a flicker of gold passing through them. He turned, looked down at the crowd with an icy, indifferent gaze, and said coldly, "The path ahead is clear."

The crowd did not believe him, filled with suspicion. Chen saw this, sneered, and beckoned to Fan Caobao. Fan nodded and leaped up, and the two figures vanished from the sight of the crowd.

Beyond the fifty-third step, every level was still inscribed with runes. Chen stopped at each one to memorize them; he did not yet know the purpose of many things he saw, but he sensed they would be of great use in the future.

The crowd stood at a loss, not daring to follow. No one knew if Chen had already mastered the stairs and left a trap behind. Just as they hesitated, Chen and Fan arrived at the great gate. The gate was ancient and grand, and the atmosphere emanating from its marks felt as if it were born of the Dao itself. Fan closed his eyes to feel it, while Chen suddenly saw images appearing in his mind—disconnected fragments, yet in each one, he could clearly see a woman standing in peerless isolation, her battle intent soaring.

The final image froze on the woman being struck to the ground by a massive hand. Chen felt a sudden, profound ache throughout his body; tears streamed down his face as he reached out and pressed his hand against the stone gate. The moment his finger touched the stone, the gate shimmered like a dream or a mirage. A golden light flashed from his finger as the runes he had comprehended from the stairs flowed out, one by one, until his hand felt as if it were touching mist or nothingness.

Fan was startled from his meditation and turned to see Chen weeping. Not knowing what had happened, he asked nervously, "Brother Chen, what's wrong?"

"I wronged her..." Chen shook his head, withdrew his hand from the void, and muttered to himself. Fan did not ask further; he knew that if Chen wanted to speak, he would.

The stone gate had vanished. A vortex suddenly appeared in the air, from which spiritual energy poured out, so rich and dense that one could not help but moan. Chen, seemingly knowing what lay behind it, grabbed Fan’s hand and plunged inside. From within the vortex, Fan’s voice came, tinged with a hint of a wail: "Brother Chen, go easy! I really do like women!"