Li Weiyi gripped the Yellow Dragon Sword tightly as he looked out through the cracked porthole. Beyond lay a horizon where the line between sky and ice had long since faded. Only the occasional streak of lightning could tear through the swirling snow and clouds, briefly lighting up the chaos outside.
Thunder roared, and the wind howled. Snowflakes, sharp as ice blades, pelted the hull of the ship like a volley of bullets. The bear-like creature had vanished without a trace, impossible to find anywhere.
“College student, there’s no need to be so tense! No matter how strong that bear-like creature is, it is as vulnerable as we are in this terrible weather. Facing a storm like this, it has surely slunk back into its lair.”
Xie Jin, who was the cousin of Second Mate Xie Tianshu, spoke with a condescending tone. Even though he was only half a 'connection', he had been selected through proper channels and naturally believed his ability was the reason behind his success. Thus, he never considered himself on the same level as Li Weiyi, regarding himself very highly.
Of course, even if he looked down on the inexperienced college student, he wouldn’t have taken every chance to target him without any class. Mostly, it was because Xie Tianshu had long since given the order, and things between the First Mate and Second Mate were filled with open and secret rivalries.
Li Weiyi held a different view but chose not to argue with Xie Jin, responding with silence as he continued to keep a vigilant watch outside the window.
“Clack! Clack! Clack…”
A cool, clear voice came from the direction of the stairs: “That bear-like creature is no longer an ordinary Earthly lifeform. Bullets can’t even penetrate its bones. What then can this mere blizzard do to it?”
Cai Yutong descended the stairs and appeared before the security team members. She was a chemistry PhD whose stunning looks had unexpectedly made her internet famous. She attended the country’s top institution, Capital University.
All the security staff knew this stunning beauty was aboard the scientific research ship, yet she usually stayed in the lab. Many of them were meeting her in person for the first time. She looked exactly like her online videos—with no overused filters.
In fact, seeing her in person made her air of refined grace even more apparent.
“Doctor Cai, let me help you carry that. What are these items?”
Xie Jin hurried over, his behavior gentlemanly though his overly ingratiating manner diminished his appearance. He held out both hands, intending to take the box that Doctor Cai Yutong was tightly holding. Cai Yutong refused to let him touch it, her tone distant: “Some highly concentrated acid strong enough to dissolve flesh and some freshly made explosives.
You’d better not touch them.” Reluctantly, and with a hint of awkwardness, Xie Jin withdrew his hand and forced a stiff smile, “Excellent, as expected from a chemistry PhD—the knowledge is power.” Carrying the box, Cai Yutong walked toward the window where Li Weiyi was standing and said, “I know you—the freshman at Capital University with a sports talent.
What should I call you?”
“Li Weiyi,” he replied.
He hadn’t expected that she would know who he was.
“I ask, what should I call you?”
Cai Yutong’s tone and demeanor were cool and aloof. Standing tall at over 1.7 meters and with exquisitely refined features that made her seem breathtakingly beautiful, she commanded the space around her. Li Weiyi gave an embarrassed smile, “Senpai.”
“Lend me a hand, gently now, steady.”
Cai Yutong instructed. Quickly, Li Weiyi leaned his Yellow Dragon Sword against the wall and, with utmost care, helped her set the box down safely on the ground. Even among alumni—even those who hadn’t known each other before—when meeting out in the world, there was always a special sense of kinship and trust.
Li Weiyi’s academic performance wasn’t outstanding, but having trained in martial arts since childhood, his physical ability far exceeded ordinary people. According to both his coach and his physical education teachers, he had the potential to challenge for world championships in multiple events. His sports recruitment was no fraud.
Xie Jin returned to the security team, maintaining a smile on his face. Yet when he saw the group who had once showered him with compliments now exchanging glances and wry smiles, his heart filled with a mix of shame and irritation. Observing the warm closeness between Li Weiyi and Cai Yutong stirred yet another bitter feeling inside him.
If before the targeting of Li Weiyi had been Xie Tianshu’s idea, right now, Xie Jin truly felt a pang of envy! Over there, Cai Yutong opened the box and began explaining the uses and precautions of the items inside, her eyes meeting Li Weiyi’s up close time and again.
Her long hair, driven by the cold wind, brushed against Li Weiyi’s face, carrying with it a faint sense of fragrance.
“Senpai, are you really going to hand over the entire contents of the box to me?”
Li Weiyi asked. Not well-versed in social niceties, Cai Yutong retorted, “I’m a researcher. Do you expect me to go fight that bear-like creature?”
“No, not at all… I just think that the security team members should learn about the proper usage of these things,” Li Weiyi explained.
Cai Yutong looked meaningfully toward Xie Jin and the others. Xie Jin smiled and said, “Doctor Cai, your junior here is purported to be quite skilled in martial arts. Look at that sword – in his heart, that sword is probably more valuable than any of these chemical items, even if others might not think much of it.”
A security team member close to Xie Jin echoed, “I heard that by practicing traditional martial arts, one can cultivate inner strength and true Qi. Little Li is First Mate’s junior. Being specially recruited into the security team must mean he is one of those kinds.”
It was clear to everyone that the two were trying to provoke. By specifically pointing out that Li Weiyi was Zhao Meng’s junior, they were implying to Cai Yutong that this college student was unreliable—a mere connection. Li Weiyi remained calm, “What inner strength or true Qi?
Traditional martial arts only serve to strengthen the body; it’s not as mystical as you might think. Everyone should trust in science.” Having trained in martial arts since the age of five—practicing hard even in the dead of winter and the hottest days of summer—Li Weiyi’s martial arts skills were naturally extraordinary.
Yet it was nothing more than his physical strength being superior—his speed faster and his techniques more refined. There was no trace of inner energy or true Qi. Once, when the Old Sect Leader lamented about the decline of the martial way, Li Weiyi had asked him.
The Old Sect Leader sighed deeply and said that Li Weiyi was simply born in the wrong era; his physical body had reached its limit, and if he had been born in ancient times, he would have mastered extraordinary feats. Li Weiyi then asked why he could achieve the extraordinary in ancient times but not in this era.
How far back, exactly, did that so-called ancient time go? The Old Sect Leader was evasive and only said, “Legends have fallen, and mysteries are endless.” Though Li Weiyi didn’t fully understand, at that moment he resolved to pursue the extraordinary in the martial way.
Dedicating himself to breaking free from the mortal body, even if it meant going against the current of the times. Young people have that unwilling spirit to admit defeat—the more elders say it can’t be done, the more determined they become. … Xie Jin said, “Little Li, no need for modesty!
We’re all in this together; there’s no need to hold back. Show us what you’ve got. I find it hard to believe that someone as upright as the First Mate would recruit a slacker like you.
We are all very curious about inner strength and true Qi—let us have a demonstration.” Xie Tianshu had directed Xie Jin to target Li Weiyi. In essence, their goal was to undermine Zhao Meng’s prestige.
If Li Weiyi turned out to be weak, then Zhao Meng, who had been responsible for Li Weiyi’s recruitment into the security team, would lose face among the crew. Li Weiyi had been picked on before and he wasn’t made of clay; he had a youthful spirit that said, “If you mess with me, you will regret it.”
He said, “Since Brother Jin insists, we might as well have a spar.” A chorus of cheers erupted in the boarding hall. Even the usually indifferent Cai Yutong looked rather interested.
Xie Jin had been waiting for this chance for over a month, and with the beautiful Cai Yutong watching, he grinned charmingly, “Fine then, but let me be clear—we’ll just go lightly, no harm will come, okay?” Yet in his heart he had different plans. Once the duel began, there would be no holding back.
In front of a beauty like her, none of them could admit defeat easily. It would be a matter of one side knocking the other down and proving superiority. After a brief standoff between the two, Xie Jin closed the distance, then shouted sharply and launched his attack.
Claws formed by his hands gripped into fists. As he dodged left, his right leg swept out in a high kick. A security team member cried out, “Black Flood Dragon Eighteen Forms!”
It was a brutal set of moves so vicious that the military had forbidden its study. Xie Jin began with the Azure Dragon Claw from the Black Flood Dragon Eighteen Forms, and his technique was impeccable—evidence of years of relentless practice.
This showed he wasn’t intending to hold back at all; he was clearly aiming to at least disable one of Li Weiyi’s arms. With a dull thud, there was a heavy sound. In a blur of movement, before anyone present could figure out what had happened, Xie Jin had fallen sideways, motionless.
The only trace of his attack was Li Weiyi’s right palm-slashed strike still slicing through the air. Li Weiyi wasn’t familiar with the intricacies of the Black Flood Dragon Eighteen Forms; he only knew this—if your speed is fast enough and your power overwhelming, then any fancy technique your opponent uses is nothing more than show.
Moreover, no one knew when that bear-like creature might strike the research vessel again, so a quick victory was necessary. He did not want to let Xie Jin’s mischief delay matters of life and death. The security team members sprang to their feet, exchanging bewildered glances, clearly shaken.
Even if Xie Jin’s defeat was due to underestimating his opponent, his physical prowess was undeniable. To be struck down by Li Weiyi’s side-slashed palm with such speed and power was truly astonishing to them.
Standing just a few meters behind Li Weiyi near the window, Cai Yutong had felt an instant wave of danger and pressure when Xie Jin had attacked. But why had he collapsed so suddenly?
“Looks good but is all show?” she muttered to herself.
Though the thought surfaced in her mind, before she realized it, the words slipped from her lips as if speaking to herself. Xie Jin’s neck felt as if gripped by violent cramps, his head spun, and only after a long while did his hearing return.
When he finally heard Cai Yutong’s voice, he was so infuriated he nearly collapsed on the spot.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The sound of running footsteps came from the stairs. A short, squat trainee—fond of reciting poems and telling mythical tales—ran excitedly into the boarding hall, saying, “I know now, I know now—the bear-like creature is none other than the legendary Ghost Bear Emperor.
It is said that it evolved from the Polar Bear King by absorbing polar lights and feasting on copious amounts of carrion, eventually developing a ghostly spiritual nature.”
Silence.
An extended silence followed. The short trainee gave an awkward smile as he looked at Xie Jin, who was being helped into a corner, and then exclaimed, “What are you all doing? You’ve already been attacked!”
Again, complete silence.
“Alright, I’m handing this over to you lot now—I’m off to the lab.”
Boom!
Just as Cai Yutong reached the stairs, a familiar heavy thud sounded on the deck outside the hatch, causing the boarding hall’s floor to quake violently. All faces turned pale as everyone grabbed their weapons. It had come! …
On the Dragon Peak’s leadership level, the group rode an elevator down to the bottom cabins. Director Yang walked while explaining, “The subterranean palace of the Ganlu Temple Reliquary Pagoda remained sealed since the Song Dynasty until it was opened in 1960, a thousand years later.
The archaeological team excavated the entire rectangular stone box and transported it back to the lab.”
“Inside the stone box was a small silver coffin. When the silver coffin was opened, a tinier golden coffin was revealed.”
“Only when the golden coffin was opened did the Buddha’s relics, preserved inside a crystal container, finally appear. Ladies and gentlemen, please come in!”
What was with this sudden mention of the Buddha’s relics? The door to Laboratory 705 swung open, and the group entered one after another, their doubts deepening. Inside the lab, various precise instruments were arrayed.
At the center of the room, upon a table, sat the crystal container holding the Buddha’s relics. Inside, the relics were about the size of a soybean and a light red color. Director Yang stood beside the relics and smiled, asking, “All of you are well-learned.
How do you view the microscopic world?” Seeing puzzled looks in everyone’s eyes, Director Yang decided to lead by example, “On a microscopic scale, many classical physical laws no longer apply. Instead, the laws of quantum mechanics—like quantum entanglement, quantum superposition, and tunneling effects—take over.”
“There is a theory that if humanity is to leave Earth, to escape the Solar System, it won’t be through traditional interstellar travel but by exploring the microscopic world. Just as we can send a voice a thousand miles away via a phone—not by shouting louder but through the transmission of microscopic information.”
“Space wormholes, which have long been elusive, might not be so rare in the microscopic realm.”
“In short, the marvelous and mysterious nature of the microscopic world will undoubtedly challenge our conventional understanding.”
“Some claim that humanity only understands five percent of the ocean—so how much do we know about the microscopic world? One in a hundred million? I’d say not even one in a billion.”
Everyone present stared at him coldly, as if he were an academic heretic. Director Yang knew further explanation would be pointless. He then pointed to the high-powered scanning tunnel electron microscope aimed at the Buddha’s relics and said, “Now, let everyone see for themselves!”
“Old man, I’d really like to see what it is you babble about,” muttered Professor Xu.
He’d tolerated Director Yang for too long. Professor Xu, nearly sixty years old but still robust, was the first to step forward and peer into the microscope at the Buddha’s relics. Moments later, the old professor’s legs began trembling and his body slid down until he collapsed onto the floor.
His eyes were filled with shock and confusion as he mumbled words that no one could understand. Zhao Meng’s heart brimmed with curiosity. How could Professor Xu, who had always observed even bizarre creatures like bear-like beings and Nine Infants with such calm, be so frightened by a single relic?
A mere relic—a tiny piece the size of a soybean—yet what had he seen? After helping the professor to his feet, Zhao Meng was the next to approach the microscope. Inside the crystal container, the Buddha’s relics were indeed as small as a bean, but under the microscope they unfolded like a vast, shallow red planet.
There were towering, rugged mountains, withered ancient waterways, and an expansive, desolate land that was both awe-inspiring and soul-stirring. It was like standing in space, gazing down upon the endless, fiery expanse of Mars. A tiny relic concealed within it an entire other world.
This was utterly incredible!
Wait…
Something wasn’t right. Under such magnification, one should only be able to see the crystalline structure of the relic. Why was it showing so much more?
Suddenly, Zhao Meng felt suffocated. On the Buddha’s relics, he now saw an even more unbelievable scene. At the end of each of those ancient riverbeds lay a vast, deep red barren sea.
The vivid seabed looked as if it were stained with fresh blood. There, resting silently at the edge of the barren sea, was an ancient, strangely-shaped bronze ship. Its origins were unknown, and its destination a mystery.
It had slumbered for eons; even its hull was riddled with rust, though its mast and sail were still distinct. Standing beside him, Director Yang cranked up the microscope’s magnification. Zhao Meng immediately saw with even greater clarity—the bronze ship now appeared monumental.
On its deck lay piles of bones: skeletal remains of people clad in armor, white-boned human figures, as well as the massive remains of what appeared to be phoenix corpses and lingering fallen serpents. There was even an endless stone forest of tombs. The remains of the phoenix corpse and the serpent were especially colossal.
A single feather from the phoenix corpse was dozens of times larger than those armored skeletal humans. It lay near the ship’s tower, one wing draped over the stone forest and the other across the nine-story ship tower. Perhaps it was his tired eyes playing tricks, but Zhao Meng was certain he saw the phoenix feather emitting a faint glow.
The microscope’s magnification was limited, and many details remained indistinct. But one could imagine that if there was ever a chance to board this magnificent and mysterious ghostly vessel, the sights encountered would be even more spectacular—and perhaps it could open a door to a fantastical and extraordinary realm. A colossal ship…
No. It was merely 460 nanometers long—no bigger than a speck of dust on the Buddha’s relics. Without the microscope, it would be completely unnoticed among billions of other pieces of dust on Earth. … New seedlings of the book—please help Old Yu add to your favorites and toss a vote for monthly tickets.
(The End of this Chapter)