From Fanwu to Xinghai

Chapter 29 The Mystery of Lin Yuan

The first lesson for the inner disciples is the basics of spiritual arts.

The instructor was a middle-aged man around fifty years old, surnamed Fang, named Zhiyuan. He was said to be a senior deacon of the Qingyun Sect, who had taught basic spiritual arts in the inner sect for twenty years, and three of his students had become sect elders.

Fang Zhiyuan stood on the martial arts platform, holding a piece of spirit jade, and addressed the thirty-odd newly recruited inner disciples below: "Spiritual techniques are fundamental for dealing with others after reaching the Spiritual Cultivation Realm. The outer disciples learn perception, guidance, and concentration. The inner disciples learn the unity of form, intention, and spirit."

He raised his hand, and a beam of light shot out from the spirit jade, condensing into a spinning water lily in the air above the martial arts stage.

"Form, spiritual energy takes shape, and all things can be simulated."

He made a hand seal, and the water lily instantly transformed into a sword-shaped ray of light, which then turned into flames, soil, and lightning.

Several disciples in the audience gasped softly in amazement.

"Intention, driven by thought, is not bound by fixed techniques."

"God, when divine consciousness permeates spiritual arts, and spiritual arts possess a mind and spirit, only then can they be called living spiritual arts."

He paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across the audience.

"Most of you were able to solidify your physical form during the outer stage, but most of you can only reach the level of intention and spirit in the later stages of the Qi Induction period."

His gaze lingered on Lin Chen for only half a second before shifting away, but Lin Chen still noticed it.

Fang Zhiyuan said, "Today's lesson will begin with basic spiritual energy formation. Each of you should sense your own spiritual power and attempt to condense it into your first spiritual form."

The disciples below the stage began to circulate their energy. Spiritual energy flowed on the martial arts stage, with varying degrees of failure in condensation, some forming crooked spheres, and others forming neat geometric shapes.

Lin Chen sat in the last row and slowly closed his eyes.

His spiritual power was already quite profound, at the seventh level of the Qi Refining stage, ranking him among the top in this batch of new students. Condensing his physical form was not difficult for him; the challenge lay in integrating his "intention" into that "form."

He pondered for a moment, and a picture suddenly appeared in his mind.

That was the most breathtaking thing he had ever seen. In the dimensional rift of the forbidden area, the light emanating from Su Wan's true form was like a net woven from countless fine threads, each thread extending along the direction of time, ultimately returning to nothingness.

He used that light as a template.

Spiritual energy surged and gradually took shape from the palm of his hand.

It's not a ball, not a sword, not any common form of spiritual magic.

It was a flowing net of light, with each line slowly rotating and pulsating with a strange rhythm, as if it were alive.

The talking on the training platform gradually stopped.

Lin Chen opened his eyes and found that everyone was looking at him.

Fang Zhiyuan walked over, squatted down, and examined the light net closely for a long time, his expression strange. Surprise, confusion, and a hint of something else... trembling?

"What's your name?" His voice was a little unsteady.

"Lin Chen."

"This form..." Fang Zhiyuan seemed to want to say something, but ultimately just shook his head, stood up, and resumed his calm tone, "Hmm. Interesting. Keep practicing."

He walked back onto the stage, but Lin Chen noticed that his back looked a little stiff.

After class, Lin Chen ran into Lin Yuan at the door.

Lin Yuan leaned against a pillar, holding a wildflower he had picked up from who-knows-where in his hand, looking relaxed.

"Your magical form just now caused quite a stir in class," he said, his tone relaxed, as if he were talking about someone else. "Did Mr. Fang recognize you?"

"Recognize what?"

"The Web of Time." Lin Yuan tucked a wildflower behind his ear, looking somewhat absurd, but his eyes were serious. "That's the way the Dimensional Ruler constructs spiritual energy. Three thousand years ago, cultivators on the ancient continent all saw it."

Lin Chen's heart raced. "How do you know about things from three thousand years ago?"

"I've said it before, time doesn't flow in one direction for me." Lin Yuan glanced at him. "Aren't you curious?"

"Of course I'm curious," Lin Chen lowered his voice, "but you're not going to explain, are you?"

"It's not that I don't intend to tell you," Lin Yuan's tone became unusually serious, "it's just that if I tell you now, you'll veer in the wrong direction."

Lin Chen stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"Some information you can only truly understand by going through that process yourself," Lin Yuan said. "It's like when you meet your mother in the forbidden area; the feeling is completely different if Shi Ying tells you beforehand versus if you discover it yourself."

The analogy was so accurate that Lin Chen couldn't refute it.

"Then what do you mean by telling me fifty years isn't enough?" he said. "You won't explain that clearly?"

Lin Yuan paused for a moment.

He plucked a wildflower from beside his ear, twirled it between his fingers, and looked at the petals.

"Do you know what dimensional wars are?" he asked.

"I know a little," Lin Chen said. "In ancient times, an eleven-dimensional civilization attempted to ascend to a higher dimension, but failed. The civilization was destroyed, and its power was scattered into lower-dimensional universes in the form of sparks."

"You're only half right," Lin Yuan said softly. "Dimensional wars are never a one-sided defeat."

Who is it...?

"It's a civilization from another dimension," Lin Yuan interrupted him. "A three-dimensional ascension poses a threat to the fourth dimension. A fourth-dimensional ascension poses a threat to the fifth dimension. Each ascension comes at the cost of the civilization of the next dimension."

Lin Chen remained silent for a moment.

"So... someone will stop dimensional ascension?"

"It's not just about blocking," Lin Yuan's voice lowered, "it's about active suppression. The suppression of lower-dimensional civilizations by higher-dimensional civilizations is one of the fundamental rules governing the operation of this universe."

"That fifty-year countdown..."

"It's not a countdown," Lin Yuan said, "it's... the window of opportunity."

He placed the wildflowers on the ground and gently crushed them with his toes.

"Every so often, the suppression from higher dimensions will temporarily weaken. During those periods, lower-dimensional civilizations have a chance to attempt dimensional ascension." He looked up. "The next window of opportunity won't be fifty years from now."

"How many years from now?"

Thirty years.

Lin Chen's heart sank.

Thirty years.

It was a full twenty years less than he had thought.

"In thirty years, how far can I cultivate from the seventh level of the Qi Refining stage?" he muttered to himself.

"Under normal circumstances," Lin Yuan said calmly, "it takes about ten years to go from the Qi Induction stage to the Foundation Establishment stage. From the Foundation Establishment stage to the Core Formation stage, it takes another ten to fifteen years. In other words, when the window of opportunity opens, you will have just entered the Core Formation stage."

"And what level of attainment is required for dimensional ascension?"

Lin Yuan remained silent.

That silence itself is the answer.

"Even higher," Lin Chen said. "Even higher than the Dan Yuan realm."

"yes."

"So, my current speed..."

"Not enough." Lin Yuan offered him no comfort. "Far from enough."

The two of them remained silent for a long time, staring at the broken flower.

Finally, Lin Chen spoke.

"Did you come here to help me?"

Lin Yuan did not answer immediately.

He turned his head and looked at the distant Qingyun Mountains, his gaze piercing through the layers of mountain mist, as if he were looking at something that only he could see.

"I'm here," he said slowly, "because there's something I couldn't do last time."

Last time.

What do these two words mean?

"You've tried once?" Lin Chen's voice became complicated. "You...have been to this era before?"

"I've been here before." Lin Yuan's voice was somewhat hoarse. "But that time, I was late."

He didn't continue speaking; those three words were like three marks etched into the air, each carrying a silent weight.

I'm late.

What does it mean to be late? What failed? Who died?

Lin Chen stared at his profile, trying to find more answers in that gentle face, but Lin Yuan's expression had returned to calm. The brief moment of sorrow that had been revealed was like a fleeting ripple on the surface of water, leaving no trace.

"So you're back," Lin Chen said, "back to an earlier point in time."

"Um."

"To change what?"

"yes."

"Change..." Lin Chen thought for a moment, "...the result of dimensional ascension?"

"Not just." Lin Yuan turned to look at Lin Chen, his eyes holding something profound, like a bottomless well. "I want you... to live."

These words, spoken softly, sent a jolt through Lin Chen's heart more powerfully than any heavy blow.

Alive.

He was actually worried about Lin Chen's life or death.

"Last time, I died?"

Lin Yuan didn't answer, but simply turned around and walked forward along the corridor.

"There's a practical lesson this afternoon," he said, his back to Lin Chen. "Elder Fang has a sharp eye; he's discovered your spiritual technique form and will soon report it to Elder Shen. You'd better think carefully about how much you plan to reveal and how much you plan to hide."

His figure gradually disappeared among the pillars, leaving Lin Chen standing alone in the same spot.

Last time, you died.

This statement, though unanswered, is more chilling than any direct confirmation.

The afternoon's practical training session was a form of practice through actual combat.

The new students were randomly grouped according to their Qi-induction stage and faced off in pairs, with the first to lose being the loser.

Lin Chen was assigned to the fourth group, and his opponent was a female disciple named Chu Qing. She was at the sixth level of the Qi Refining stage, came from a well-established spiritual cultivation family in Yuyang City, and had a calm demeanor that came from years of immersion in cultivation.

"Please enlighten me." Chu Qing bowed slightly to Lin Chen, her expression calm but polite.

"You flatter me." Lin Chen returned the greeting.

He didn't make a move immediately, but first observed the other party.

Chu Qing stood with her left foot slightly back and her weight on her right, her fingers subtly forming the first hand gesture of a magic incantation. She was waiting for him to make the first move, intending to defend as a form of offense and use his first strike to gauge his attack method.

This is an experienced opponent.

"Begin." Fang Zhiyuan's voice rang out.

Chu Qing's steps changed, her body shifted slightly, and spiritual energy gathered in her right palm, condensing into a spinning spiritual blade.

Lin Chen didn't move.

He simply stood still, but within his consciousness, the imprint of the river of time gently stirred.

Time perception, activated.

He sensed every subtle change in Chu Qing's muscles. She raised her elbow, twisted her waist, exerted force, and struck with her palm.

Just before that moment arrived, he turned to the side, dodging the arc of the spirit blade, then gently reached out and placed two fingers on Chu Qing's wrist, pressing down lightly.

It's not an attack, it's a defusal.

Chu Qing's spirit blade deflected upon his touch, flying towards the open space beside her, leaving behind a ripple of spiritual energy.

She paused for a moment, then reacted and slapped Lin Chen on the back with her other hand.

Lin Chen spun around and neutralized the attack.

The two exchanged blows for over ten breaths, but Chu Qing was unable to hit Lin Chen, and Lin Chen did not make the first move.

The disciples below the stage could see it. Lin Chen was leading Chu Qing's attack while simultaneously studying her every movement pattern.

Chu Qing noticed it too.

She stopped, took a deep breath, concentrated her spiritual energy in her palms, and unleashed a powerful series of palm strikes.

That was her signature move, a twelve-hit combo, each strike changing direction, making it impossible to predict the trajectory of the next attack.

Lin Chen's brow twitched slightly.

Time slows down, activates.

Everything around him slowed down slightly. Not to everyone, but only to Lin Chen's own perception; the outside world slowed down, but his thoughts remained as clear as ever.

He clearly saw the trajectory of each of Chu Qing's palm strikes; the twelve-style combo became a slowly unfolding scroll in his eyes.

He did not dodge.

Instead, they found a gap in the sequence. There is a pause of less than half a second between the seventh and eighth moves.

In that pause, he turned sideways and made his move.

He placed two fingers on Chu Qing's shoulder and pressed down gently.

Chu Qing stumbled and her knees hit the ground.

We lost.

"Lin Chen wins." Fang Zhiyuan announced, his tone still calm, but Lin Chen noticed that he lingered on the notebook for a longer time than usual.

After the practical training session, Lin Chen encountered an unexpected person on his way back to Yun She.

It was an old man with gray hair, dressed in a simple gray robe, squatting by the roadside herb garden, carefully loosening the soil around the herbs like an ordinary disciple.

That's Shen Qingluan.

Lin Chen recognized her. She was the Nascent Soul Realm elder who had defeated Xiao Yan during the trial.

He instinctively wanted to stop and bow, but Shen Qingluan said something without looking up.

"Lin Chen, sit down and talk to me."

The tone wasn't like that of an elder speaking to a younger person; it was more like... an old friend.

Lin Chen sat down on the stone bench next to him.

Shen Qingluan silently loosened the soil around the spirit herb for a while, then asked, "Have you seen Lin Yuan?"

"This morning."

"What did he say?"

Lin Chen thought for a moment, "They say the window of opportunity is fifty years, but it's actually only thirty."

Shen Qingluan paused for a moment with her hoe, then continued turning the soil.

What else did he say?

"They say higher-dimensional civilizations actively suppress the ascension of lower-dimensional beings." Lin Chen looked at her. "You know this?"

"I know a little." Shen Qingluan's voice was calm, but there was a certain old heaviness in that calmness. "Your father, Lin Yuan, told me something similar when he was studying at the Qingyun Sect."

"Did your father study here?"

"He cultivated here for nearly eight years." Shen Qingluan stopped what she was doing, straightened up, and looked towards the distant mountains. "Back then, you weren't even born yet. He was a very good disciple. His talent wasn't the best, but he had an excellent character and a deep love for this world."

She paused for a moment, then continued, "Later he left, saying he was going to find the next node in the Time Guardian's legacy. I thought... he found it, and that's why you were born."

"But he didn't come back," Lin Chen said softly.

"No." Shen Qingluan sighed. "Many years have passed, and I thought he had died outside. Until one day, the sect's forbidden area suddenly reacted—it was the aura of a dimensional ruler."

"My mother is trapped there."

"Yes." Shen Qingluan turned around and looked at Lin Chen. "That's why I waited for you to come."

"You knew I would come?"

"I know." Her eyes held a complex expression. "Lin Yuan left me a letter before he left."

Lin Chen's heart raced. "What did the letter say?"

Shen Qingluan took out an old-fashioned envelope from her sleeve and placed it in Lin Chen's hand.

"He said a child would come here someday. He had the mark of the Time Guardian between his brows, and the power of a Dimensional Ruler in his blood." Her voice was steady, but her fingers trembled slightly. "He said this was the last thing he could do."

There was no writing on the envelope.

But when Lin Chen's fingers touched it, the mark between his eyebrows suddenly lit up, and a warm sensation flowed from his fingertips to his heart.

That was my father's warmth.

Many years have passed, transcending blood ties and time, that silent tenderness remains as clear as ever.

Lin Chen's eyes felt hot, and he lowered his head, trying to steady his breathing.

"Where...is he now?" Lin Chen asked, his voice a little hoarse.

"I don't know," Shen Qingluan said softly. "Even Shi Ying might not know the ultimate fate of the Time Guardians."

"But that boy named Lin Yuan," Lin Chen looked up, "said he had seen my father a long time ago. He's from the future?"

"You should ask him that directly," Shen Qingluan said, picking up the hoe again. "But before that, I have a suggestion for you."

"Please speak."

"Trust him." Her voice was calm and resolute. "That child... he's suffered a lot to get to this point."

Lin Chen clutched the envelope as he walked along the mountain path at dusk.

He didn't open it.

It wasn't that he didn't want to, but... he felt that now wasn't the right time.

What his father left behind was something. It could be information, a cultivation technique, or something else entirely. But that thing was sealed within the resonance of his mark and bloodline, requiring him to accumulate sufficient cultivation before he could truly receive it.

Like all inheritances, there needs to be a container to receive them.

He is not enough yet.

Lin Chen carefully tucked the envelope into his body and looked at the setting sun sinking in the sky.

Thirty years.

From the seventh level of the Qi Induction stage, to a realm sufficient to support dimensional ascension.

Thirty years—he didn't know if that was enough, but there was one thing he did know.

He will no longer wait for others to give him an answer.

He should take the initiative to go and find them.