No one mentioned Yin Bie again.
The unexpected encounter with the three top researchers was just a brief interlude along the journey, quickly left behind.
After joining a new team, getting to know your teammates is a necessary process.
From the reactions of the other two teammates, it wasn’t hard to see that Yin Que had given Ning Li the most solid relationship—a bond perhaps stronger than any ordinary worldly connection.
Her relationship with Yin Que was hard to define; perhaps it was like the sibling bond between Ran Fu and Ran Wu, or the friendship between Qu Feng and Zhu Gao, who grew up together.
At times, even those memories would affect them.
She had spent one month as Ran Wu and five months as Zhu Gao.
Every moment in those dreams felt real.
Occasionally, lingering emotions from Ran Wu and Zhu Gao would leave her dazed.
But it didn’t matter.
They still had plenty of time to figure out what they truly felt for each other.
Yin Que had probably already figured out her preferences, and in front of the two new teammates, he praised her generously—not just her, but also Xiao Hei.
Xiao Hei’s huge flower head wobbled left and right the whole way, never once stopping.
[Hehe.]
[Like.]
[Really like.]
Ning Li was actually just like Xiao Hei, enjoying the feeling of being praised.
It made her feel that her existence was meaningful, unique, and irreplaceable.
And it was Yin Que who praised her, the Former Guard Captain, the owner of the Cosmos Rose, the white moonlight in countless hearts.
That made the compliment all the more extraordinary.
After praising Ning Li, Yin Que gave her a quick introduction to Pei Yujiu and Ting Rui.
Pei Yujiu was the oldest in the team, twenty-nine five years ago, and his spiritual entity was the Starsea Sea Eagle.
Generally, spiritual entities with “Starsea” in their names belonged to Senior Sentinels or Guides—like Zhu Gao’s Starsea Anemone.
Pei Yujiu stood about 1.9 meters tall, with rugged handsome features, a broad-shouldered inverted-triangle build, and a buzz cut.
He had a steady personality, didn’t speak much, but when he did, every word counted.
By contrast, Ting Rui was much more lively.
Previously, whether at the frontlines or in the forbidden zones, Yin Que handled decisions and overall planning, Pei Yujiu led the vanguard assaults, and Ting Rui was in charge of reconnaissance and technology.
Now that they’d added Ning Li, finally someone could handle support and assistance.
Both new teammates were easy enough to get along with, but for them to have served as the Former Guard Captain’s deputy and the Former Guard Captain themselves—what kind of simple people could they possibly be?
Whatever the reason for their swift acceptance of her, Ning Li could only see it as a good thing.
They found Pei Yujiu in an abandoned building in Zone 192, right next to the edge of Zone 191.
Perhaps Zone 191 really was a special place—after all, it was on the frontlines of Zone 191 that Xiao Hei had picked up the Amber Eye.
Their journey began in Zone 200, headed to Zone 192, crossing eight zones.
It wasn’t a long distance—not compared to the places Ning Li and Yin Que had rushed to before.
Passing through Zone 199, Ting Rui seemed struck by an idea and suggested enthusiastically, “Since we’re already here, why don’t we take a stroll through God’s Ruins?”
By now, Ning Li knew that Zone 1 was the closest to the gods, Zone 200 had the most fervent devotees, and now, she learned that Zone 199 was also known as “God’s Backyard.”
There was a ruin there.
Whether or not it was truly God’s Ruins was unclear, but legend had it that those with fate would, upon stepping in, glimpse a certain moment of their future.
Each person could only see one such scene in their lifetime.
“Have you ever been there?”
Yin Que asked Ning Li.
“No.”
“Want to check it out?”
“Sure.”
After all, Ting Rui was right—“since we’re already here.”
Who knew when she’d next visit Zone 199?
Compared to other zones, Zone 199 was much more desolate.
Many buildings retained their original, untouched environment—a trace of history left behind.
Zone 199 gave off an ethereal, ancient, desolate feeling.
Giant ancient trees abounded, wild grass lined the roadsides, and everywhere there were Sentinels and Guides drawn here by reputation.
Ning Li asked quite a few questions about God’s Ruins.
Ting Rui, chewing a stray foxtail grass and walking backward with his hands behind his back, said, “Actually, years ago, the Commander, Yujiu, and I came here once.”
Ning Li paused.
“Did you see any visions?”
Ting Rui spread his hands.
“The Commander and Yujiu both saw something. I didn’t. Such a pity. If you don’t see a vision the first time you enter God’s Ruins, you’ll never see one, no matter how many times you come back.”
To this day, he still felt a deep sense of regret.
Ning Li leaned close to Yin Que.
“Brother, what did you see back then?”
As she asked, both Pei Yujiu and Ting Rui immediately focused their gaze on him.
Clearly, she wasn’t the only one curious.
Ting Rui had asked Yin Que the same question years ago, but he never answered.
Now, it was up to him whether or not he wanted to tell.
“I saw myself confronting Qi Sigui from a distance.”
Back when he visited Zone 199, he was twenty-two, and Qi Sigui was still a kind older brother in front of him.
Even up to the moment of his death, Qi Sigui remained so.
To keep this from affecting Pei Yujiu and Ting Rui’s attitude towards Qi Sigui, he’d chosen to keep it secret.
Afterward, he’d tested Qi Sigui many times, but never found any flaws.
During festivals and holidays, Qi Sigui always prepared suitable gifts for him and his mother.
If they ran into each other at home, Qi Sigui would show concern for his life and career, reminding him not to overwork.
When faced with difficulties, Qi Sigui’s advice was always practical and sincere.
No matter how much he tested, Qi Sigui always seemed like a qualified, friendly elder brother—clean-handed, upright, nothing shady.
But there was something else Yin Que never told and never planned to tell.
Back then, he’d actually seen two visions.
Besides the confrontation with Qi Sigui, there was another scene—his corpse, battered by wind and rain, gradually decomposing, until it merged completely with the mass grave and returned to dust.
Ten years.
Senior Sentinels and above could keep their bodies from decaying for ten years.
But in that vision, even after ten years, no one found him.
In that deserted graveyard, he passed the final stretch of his life.
Perhaps that had always been his destined end.
After Yin Que finished, no one spoke for a long time.
The scene he described might soon become reality.
Their head-on encounter with Qi Sigui might not be far off.
Visions seen in God’s Ruins were never trivial—they always marked some critical turning point in a person’s life.
No one asked Pei Yujiu what he’d seen, and he didn’t say.
The group bought some food and drinks from a roadside stall.
After eating and drinking their fill, they continued on toward God’s Ruins.
Though still some distance away, Ning Li could sense they were getting close to their destination.
A towering Creation Pillar stretched into the clouds, its upper half shrouded by mist.
The clouds flowed around it, swirling endlessly.
The pillar was as thick as an ancient tree trunk, its surface carved with the forms of countless spiritual entities, each one lifelike.
At the base were the most common spiritual entities—fish, oxen, horses, and the like.
Suspended in the middle were entities belonging to mid-level Sentinels or Guides.
As for those at the top, they were beyond anyone’s ability to glimpse.
In thousands of years of history, no one had ever discovered which spiritual entity crowned the Creation Pillar.
There were many Sentinels and Guides near the Creation Pillar.
Most wore expressions of regret; a few looked thoughtful, lost in contemplation.
Yin Que patted Ning Li’s shoulder and gently reminded her, “Go on. It’s just a little game. Whether you see anything or not doesn’t matter. We’re just passing by, so take a look.”
Ning Li stepped forward.
Only up close could she feel the true awe and majesty of the Creation Pillar—a shock to the spirit.
Ning Li felt an endless, boundless vastness and mystery.
It was as though she stood in the heart of the universe, surrounded by darkness, with a fear and excitement of being swallowed by the cosmos at any moment.
She looked up.
Where would her spiritual entity, the Necromancer, be?
And where would Yin Que’s Cosmos Rose be?
What to do?
The more unreachable and hidden something was, the more it drew people in, the more it made them long to know the answer.
Just as Ning Li was gazing up, a scene suddenly flashed in her mind.
On a barren wasteland, she stood with one foot on a giant boulder, the other leg casually resting, gazing into the distance at a sea of deformed monsters.
It seemed as though she was surrounded by aberrations—or maybe not.
She wore a long black coat, her black hair whipping wildly in the wind.
Four divine artifacts of different shapes circled around her.
One was round.
One was a cube.
One was prism-shaped.
And the last was oval.
Colored lights enveloped her, blurring her face.
Standing slightly behind her, to one side, was a stranger—a young, handsome man.
He wore the same long black coat, matching combat boots, a single teardrop mole at the corner of his eye shining even in the dim wasteland.
He was looking at her.
With a gaze that was sticky, obsessive, and yearning.
Just as Ning Li frowned, the vision vanished.
She stood rooted to the spot, lost in thought for a long while.
Until Yin Que’s mellow voice sounded in her ear, “Ning Li, what’s wrong?”
Ning Li opened her mouth.
She wanted to ask, would this vision really come to pass?
Was there a chance something was wrong?
Why was the person standing beside her then not Yin Que, but someone else?
Who was that man?
And where would Yin Que be?
Those questions even outweighed her surprise at possibly possessing four divine artifacts in the future.