Looking at the varied expressions on these people’s faces, Li Yunxian let out a long sigh in her heart.
Outside, maybe only a few dozen seconds or minutes pass, but here, it’s a month or two.
And these people have stayed here for at least several thousand years in the outside world—just how long is that?
Even Li Yunxian couldn’t casually answer what it meant to have lived through such a long stretch of time.
She couldn’t imagine how much effort these people had made in this space, how many times they’d tried to seek death, only to see themselves return to their original state, over and over again.
They might have gone mad.
But in the physical sense, they hadn’t gone mad.
Though they’d become something else entirely, the minds they were connected to were still normal, and their consciousnesses remained intact.
They didn’t even have the qualification to go mad.
And so, year after year, day after day, living on uncontrollably until now, they could do nothing but helplessly accept reality, turning into the “normal” figures Li Yunxian now saw before her.
The one who started all this had turned a group of ordinary people into something bizarre.
Li Yunxian knew that the mental states of those before her had already been pushed beyond the possibility of normalcy.
In this crack between space and time, everyone was the same; only here could they maintain their current appearance of normality.
But once outside, the resentment accumulated over countless years would explode uncontrollably the moment they saw people living normal lives.
They would either destroy others, or destroy themselves.
This was not something humans could control.
It didn’t matter how kind or upright a person was.
The length of this time was simply far, far too great.
The reason they appeared normal now was only because they’d been ordinary people to begin with, so they would not fall into the Magical Dao.
And this was likely intentional on the part of the one on the other side.
The more twisted and painful the bizarre become, the more Magical Dao Rhyme is produced. These people are twisted, but unable to cultivate.
The Dao Rhyme of the Magical Dao produced by ordinary people cannot connect with others of their kind.
After this manufactured Dao Rhyme escapes, it doesn’t belong at all within the realm of cultivators, not even reaching the most basic entry-level Dao Rhyme of the Qi Refinement stage, so no one can detect it.
Not even those crossing tribulation.
Only someone like Li Yunxian, who was present in this crack in space and time, could sense the gathering Magical Dao Rhyme among these now bizarre people.
And this scattered Dao Rhyme would, along with the operation of Zhencheng, diffuse into the entire city.
When cultivators in the various cities cultivated, it would mingle into the bodies of all orthodox cultivators.
This power, of course, was extremely weak, not enough to cause anyone to fall from the orthodox path.
After all, cultivation, whether orthodox or demonic, ultimately depended on personal beliefs and understanding.
But there would still be a subtle influence.
And this influence would, as one’s cultivation improved, deepen little by little.
This didn’t mean that the higher one’s cultivation, the easier it was to fall into the Magical Dao.
Rather, it meant that those at the middle levels—Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—would be the most affected.
Those following the orthodox Dao had minds firm enough that this trace of Dao Rhyme’s influence meant nothing at all; they would notice nothing as they advanced upward.
At most, they might be like Feng Songhua and the others, considering topics related to the Magical Dao, and leaving a trace of such thoughts in their subconscious.
—Roughly speaking, the principle on this side of the interstellar world that those above the Nascent Soul stage don’t act against each other was likely agreed upon due to this very situation.
And as for those with lower cultivation, it didn’t matter.
There’s not much to say there—fewer points of contact, less influence.
No wonder, even though the interstellar world is dominated by the orthodox path, things have turned out like this.
Li Yunxian recalled the various factions and opponents she’d encountered on Qingxing.
Most of the people among them acted within this same behavioral range.
With the temperament cultivated by the orthodox Dao, they weren’t strong enough to support further advancement.
As a result, they’d be influenced by this Dao Rhyme, thinking it reasonable and feasible to act in pursuit of these benefits.
People.
Li Yunxian had seen plenty of such people in the cultivation world—she remembered the ones she’d encountered while granting authorization in Wanwuwu.
Li Yunxian had already felt that, in this interstellar world, such so-called “orthodox” people seemed especially numerous.
Now it all made sense.
Every irrationality in the world, it seemed, had a reason behind it.
But how was she supposed to explain all this to the people before her?
Li Yunxian took a deep breath in her heart. She no longer tried to appear cute or naive, but looked at them with complete seriousness.
“Immortality itself isn’t the problem.
“Forcing everyone to be born a certain way, imprisoning them here, and making them suffer for eternity—that’s the problem.” Li Yunxian answered firmly.
Duàn Huácǎi and the others didn’t show any change in expression at Li Yunxian’s words.
They were very smart—not foolish at all. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have become researchers in Zhencheng.
Having lived with such clarity for so long, they’d thought through everything, positive and negative, many times over.
But some things can’t be figured out just by thinking about them, or even by being aware of them.
They couldn’t let go.
Anyone who experienced this wouldn’t be able to let go.
Li Yunxian didn’t expect her words alone could bring them any release.
After thinking it over, she decided to tell them the solution.
In other words, she would tell them the truth.
A lie requires thousands upon thousands of other lies to cover it up, but the truth needs none.
These people, who had contributed so much to the orthodox path and lived here for countless millennia, did not deserve to be left with a lie.
“Would you like to live differently?” Li Yunxian looked back at them.
At this moment, a sword appeared in Li Yunxian’s hand.
Ever since the Xiayun Sword was destroyed, the spirit swords in Li Yunxian’s hands had practically become single-use items.
These swords weren’t of high enough quality—every time she used a big move, they’d shatter to pieces.
But this, too, was a blessing in disguise.
For example, when Li Yunxian appeared in this crack, she had no sword in hand, so the people before her assumed she was an ordinary person, unable to cultivate, just like them.
But not anymore.
“You’re a cultivator!” Duàn Huácǎi and the others stared at Li Yunxian in shock.
The ability to conjure objects out of the Void—only a cultivator could do that.
Li Yunxian responded and asked them, “Do you want to cultivate?”
This completely unexpected situation left these clever people wide-eyed; before their minds could react, their ears had already heard Li Yunxian’s question.
“Of course we do.” Someone responded instantly, almost instinctively.
“Then give it a try and see.” Li Yunxian smiled at that person. “You’re dead now, and it just so happens I have something here that allows the dead to cultivate.”
As one of the top cultivators in the world, Li Yunxian had plenty of cultivation methods at her disposal.
She was even quite familiar with the most rare methods for Guixiu cultivation.
After all, the hardest part of cultivating as a Guixiu wasn’t the method, but retaining a sense of self, instead of acting purely on instinct, harming only oneself and others.
Duàn Huácǎi and the others didn’t know how to react.
They felt they should be angry, should feel rage.
Because Li Yunxian was different.
She wasn’t like them—she had the chance to die.
She wouldn’t suffer the same pain as them; Li Yunxian even had a chance to leave this place.
All because Li Yunxian was a cultivator, and they were ordinary people.
But before those emotions could even surface, they were knocked senseless by the information Li Yunxian had just revealed.
“How could we cultivate? There isn’t even any spiritual energy here!” Duàn Huácǎi reflexively objected.
With their knowledge, they could judge the environment of this space from various phenomena.
“No problem.” Li Yunxian answered.
With a gentle raise of her hand, a great heap of Spirit Stones tumbled into the space.
Staring at the familiar sight, Duàn Huácǎi was left speechless.
As ordinary people, they couldn’t tell what level Li Yunxian’s cultivation was at.
But just the number of Spirit Stones she displayed was by no means small for any individual.
In their research work, even after applying to the higher-ups, a whole project’s worth of Spirit Stone consumption wouldn’t be much more than this.
Before seeing so many Spirit Stones, Duàn Huácǎi and the others had never thought their anger could be measured in any kind of value.
Cough.
Maybe it could be.
“We really can cultivate?” Someone asked Li Yunxian excitedly.
Some went as far as to rush toward the pile of Spirit Stones, laughing and cheering as they crammed piece after piece into their bodies.
It was as if they felt no pain at all, not caring in the least about bodily damage as they embedded the Spirit Stones within themselves.
Maybe they wanted to die this way, or maybe it was just a pure emotional release.
Anyway, except for those few twisted ones, the others still had some stability of mind left.
It seemed that their companions’ occasional bouts of madness had become completely routine.
They voiced their confusion to Li Yunxian: “But we don’t even have Linggen!
“How are we supposed to cultivate without Linggen?
Back when they were alive, they must have tried countless times, but it was always hopeless.
“But you’re already dead—aren’t all ghosts born cultivators?” Li Yunxian replied, as if it were perfectly natural.
Duàn Huácǎi and the others were left speechless.
Li Yunxian didn’t want to keep going back and forth on whether it would work, or if it was possible.
No more talk of philosophy or logic.
She efficiently pulled everyone up, divided up the Spirit Stones, and got straight to the point.
Saying and debating such things was for those with time to spare—Li Yunxian didn’t want to waste even a moment on it.
“All right, now I’ll teach you how to start cultivating.”
She had to make sure they learned before the next fluctuation of the Time Dao occurred.
***
Outside in Thin City, many buildings had already been torn down. If something happened and the other buildings couldn’t be demolished, there might not be a third fluctuation.
If that happened, she might be stuck here for a very, very long time.
She’d probably have to wait for Su Wenjing to find another Zhencheng and demolish another city before she could get out. That would be way too troublesome.
Duàn Huácǎi and the others, still dazed, were swept up by Li Yunxian’s pace.
By the time they realized what was happening, they’d already begun following Li Yunxian’s instructions, trying to cultivate.
Something felt off.
Duàn Huácǎi thought fuzzily, only to have Li Yunxian’s decisive voice come thumping down as she rapped her on the head.
She heard Li Yunxian’s tone of exasperation: “You’re still distracted while cultivating? Are you even trying to do this seriously?”
Duàn Huácǎi:
When they were teaching Li Yunxian earlier, their attitude was not like this!
So unfair!!