127: Chapter 127 A steady flow eventually moves mountains

Over the next few days, Ling Ye's life fell into a regular and fulfilling rhythm.

During the day, he devoted himself entirely to his academy courses.

With his optimized brainpower and focus, he absorbed knowledge far faster than the average person.

Although he deliberately controlled his performance, he had already managed to leave his teachers with the impression of having a "clear mind and significant progress" during several quizzes and class discussions.

He paid particular attention to physics, chemistry, information science, and mechanical principles, as this knowledge was the foundation for understanding the rules of this world and potentially utilizing his "Spiritual Sense" or modifying tools in the future.

In his spare time, he continued to consult materials in the library, especially marginal literature regarding the geology of Azure Planet, early industrial history, and energy field detection technology.

At night, he never failed to perform physical training and "Spiritual Sense" cultivation.

His physical fitness improved steadily, and his control over his body became increasingly precise.

Regarding his "Spiritual Sense," he grew more proficient at analyzing the "sense of dissonance" in the Old Factory District from a distance.

Although the "information fragments" he captured each time remained fragmented and blurry, through accumulation, he gained a more concrete understanding of the "nature" of that abnormal energy: it seemed to carry a slow "erosive" and "assimilative" tendency, capable of weakly affecting surrounding material structures (especially metals and certain silicon-based compounds) and biological fields (such as the Crystal-Armored Beast), causing them to trend toward some unstable, chaotic state.

This might be part of the reason for the Crystal-Armored Beast's abnormality and the strange noises in the community.

Every evening around sunset, provided there were no mandatory academy activities, Ling Ye would "happen" to pass by West Forest Park to "rest" or "read" near the elderly chess and card corner.

He didn't always go straight to Old Zhao's chess table.

Sometimes, he would sit on a bench further away to read; sometimes, he would watch other elderly people playing chess nearby; and sometimes, he would simply walk by quietly, nodding in greeting to Old Zhao, who would look toward him.

Old Zhao was initially wary of his presence, but after a few days, seeing that this young man only quietly watched the chess games or occasionally flipped through that mineral atlas without any further actions, the vigilance in his eyes gradually faded, replaced by a dull acceptance—like the addition of a familiar background element to the park.

During the third "chance encounter," Ling Ye "happened" to bring a bag of cheap tea leaves bought from the community convenience store, steeped in a thermos.

When Old Zhao felt thirsty while playing chess and shook his half-empty thermos, Ling Ye "timely" handed over his own cup, saying with a slight shyness: "Master Zhao, this is tea I just brewed. It's coarse tea, but if you don't mind, would you like to try some? I washed the cup clean."

Old Zhao glanced at him, didn't stand on ceremony, took it, and took a sip, smacking his lips: "Not bad, just a bit weak."

The tone was ordinary, but he didn't return the cup immediately, took another sip, and then handed it back, asking casually: "You like this too?"

"Just drinking it for fun, helps keep me alert." Ling Ye smiled and took the cup.

No further conversation followed, but a subtle sense of familiarity based on "sharing" seemed to have been established.

The fourth time, Ling Ye "asked for advice" about a problem with the water pipe under his bathroom sink occasionally making an extremely faint vibrating sound.

He described it very carefully but emphasized: "It's very faint, doesn't affect usage, just a bit curious."

After listening, Old Zhao glanced at him: "Water pressure is unstable, or the pipe is aging, and there's some rust inside, so it makes a noise when water rushes through. It's no big deal. If you don't want to hear it, just turn the main valve down a bit at night."

"So that's it, thank you Master Zhao." Ling Ye showed an expression of sudden realization and gratitude, without pursuing it further, as if he had truly just solved a small doubt.

The fifth time, while Ling Ye was watching the game, Old Zhao made a clear blunder, was seized by his opponent, and launched a fierce attack.

It looked like he was about to lose again.

The elderly people watching the game sighed with regret, and Old Zhao himself was beating his chest and stomping his feet.

At this moment, Ling Ye, as if talking to himself, muttered in an extremely low voice (but ensuring Old Zhao could hear): "If that 'Chariot' hadn't been reckless earlier, jumping the 'Horse' now seems like it could still defend…"

The voice was very light, not meant to be bossy, more like the subconscious thinking of a spectator.

Old Zhao turned his head abruptly, stared at Ling Ye for two seconds, then looked back down at the chessboard.

His fingers tapped vaguely above several pieces, a flash of annoyance and realization crossing his eyes.

He cursed in a low voice: "Damn it, that's right! Why didn't I think of that just now!"

He didn't respond directly to Ling Ye's words, but his defensive play in the endgame was clearly much more serious.

Although he still lost in the end, it wasn't as ugly a loss.

After the game ended, he glanced at Ling Ye, didn't speak, but his eyes held less detachment and more of a "this kid is alright, knows a bit about chess" sentiment.

Bit by bit, silently and imperceptibly.

A week passed, and Ling Ye had become a "semi-familiar face" in the chess and card corner.

When Old Zhao saw him, he would sometimes nod, and sometimes even casually ask, "No class today?" or "Reading again?"

Ling Ye's answers were always brief and natural, not overly enthusiastic, but by no means cold.

He never took the initiative to steer the conversation toward the Old Factory District, minerals, or any sensitive content.

He was waiting, waiting for Old Zhao to speak up on his own, or waiting for a more natural, more irresistible opportunity to "ask for advice."

This opportunity arrived quietly on an evening after the rain.

It had rained heavily that afternoon, and by evening, the rain had eased slightly, but the sky remained overcast, and the air was moist and cool.

Ling Ye arrived at the park as usual and found that there were far fewer people in the chess and card corner than usual.

Only Old Zhao and that thin old man (Uncle Zhang) were still playing, with two or three scattered onlookers nearby.

Ling Ye walked over, sat down in his usual spot, didn't read, just watched the game quietly.

The scent of earth and plants after the rain was exceptionally fresh, but Ling Ye's High-Dimensional Information Perception vaguely caught a hint of an extremely faint, indescribable smell of "rust" and "damp mold" in the air.

The direction of this smell pointed vaguely toward the Old Factory District.

Halfway through the game, Old Zhao seemed somewhat distracted, hesitating when placing his pieces, and from time to time, he would look up at the overcast sky to the east (the direction of the Old Factory District), his brows furrowed tightly.

"Old Zhao, focus, your game is about to be finished." Uncle Zhang tapped the chessboard.

Old Zhao came back to his senses and waved his hand irritably: "Not in the right state today, not playing anymore, not playing anymore."

He rarely took the initiative to push the board and concede, picked up his thermos, but didn't drink, just stared at the rim of the cup, his expression somewhat gloomy.

Uncle Zhang glanced at him, said nothing, and began to pack up the chess pieces.

Ling Ye's heart stirred, but he didn't speak, just sat quietly to the side.

After a while, Old Zhao suddenly raised his head, his gaze sweeping over Ling Ye, then looking at the eastern sky again, as if talking to himself, or perhaps unable to hold it in and wanting to find someone to talk to, his voice low and hoarse: "This damn weather… I'm afraid things aren't settling down underground again."

Ling Ye's heart skipped a beat, but he kept his expression calm, his gaze following Old Zhao's line of sight toward the east, as if just making casual conversation: "Rainy days, underground pipes are prone to dampness and strange smells, right? I think I smelled something weird just now, too."

"Weird smell?" Old Zhao snorted, turned his head, and for the first time stared at Ling Ye with eyes carrying obvious emotion, "Young man, your nose is quite sharp. That's not just a normal damp smell."

He paused, seemingly hesitating whether to continue, but perhaps the days of Ling Ye's "harmless" performance had let him lower his guard, or perhaps he was prompted by the weather to dwell on his worries.

He finally lowered his voice, with a trace of imperceptible worry and… anger, saying: "That's 'rust' mixed with 'muddy fishiness,' and a kind of… indescribable 'cold' smell. Back when the Seventh Machinery Factory was still around, whenever it rained heavily, especially this kind of sudden and fierce rain, you could smell this scent near the deepest treatment pool of the factory. Later, the factory moved away, the pool was sealed, and we thought it was fine. But in recent years, especially recently, whenever this kind of weather comes, this smell drifts out again, and damn it, it's getting stronger!"

He took a fierce gulp of water, as if trying to suppress the discomfort in his throat.

"A sealed treatment pool… still releasing odors?" Ling Ye followed his words, his tone carrying appropriate surprise and curiosity, "Was the sealing not done well? Or, did the groundwater flow change its course?"

"Sealing?" Old Zhao sneered, a complex look flashing in his eyes—anger, helplessness, and a trace of deeply hidden fear, "That pool… was never a normal treatment pool. When they were digging deep back then, they hit something that shouldn't have been hit. Something happened, people died, and the higher-ups ordered an emergency backfilling and sealing, using the highest-grade special concrete and alloy plates. Theoretically, not even a fart should have leaked out!"

"Something that shouldn't have been hit?" Ling Ye's heart began to beat faster, but he controlled his breathing and tone, making himself sound more like a young man attracted by "industrial secrets," "Was it a mineral fault? Or an underground water vein?"

Old Zhao looked deeply at Ling Ye.

This time, his gaze was no longer pure scrutiny, but carried a struggle of "I said it, you might not understand, but it's uncomfortable to keep it bottled up."

He looked around, confirmed that no one was paying special attention to them, leaned forward, and said in a whisper that only the two of them could hear: "It was weirder than that. They hit… a kind of 'rock layer' that had never been seen before, blue-black in color, and it was ridiculously hard, breaking several drill bits. But the strange thing was, the 'rock' itself seemed to 'move.' Not really moving, but it felt like… it was 'breathing'? It would also emit a very, very low 'sound,' like something scraping against metal. Instruments couldn't even detect it, but people who got close would get dizzy and irritable after a long time. Later…"

He paused, a look of lingering fear on his face: "Later, an old master didn't believe in evil, got too close, and wanted to take a sample. As a result… the whole person seemed to have his strength drained, his face turned gray, and he was gone in a few days. The hospital couldn't find the cause, just said it was organ failure. Since then, that area was marked as a restricted zone and quickly backfilled and sealed. The factory moved away less than two years later."

A blue-black "rock layer"? "Breathing"? Emitting low-frequency "scraping sounds"? Causing loss of vitality upon approach?!

Ling Ye's heart was in turmoil!

This description was so similar to the "sense of dissonance" he perceived and the "texture" of that terrifying existence in the chip's imagery!

That wasn't any "rock layer" at all; it was very likely an "outcrop" or "infiltration point" of some heterogeneous existence from the "Nine Nether Realm" or a similar dimension that possessed activity and corrosiveness!

The "accident" at the Seventh Machinery Factory back then was very likely an accidental breakthrough into some weak point connecting to the "abnormality"!

"After it was sealed, wasn't it fine?" Ling Ye suppressed his shock and continued to guide him.

"It was sealed," Old Zhao sighed, his eyes dim, "but that 'cold' smell, and the 'strange noises' heard at night sometimes, are like a lingering ghost. We old workers say among ourselves that the thing isn't dead, just suppressed, and is slowly 'seeping' underneath. The smell has gotten stronger in recent years, and the noises are more frequent… I'm afraid the sealing has lasted too long, or there's been some minor crustal activity, and it's loosened up again?"

He grabbed Ling Ye's arm suddenly, with great strength, his eyes burning: "Kid, I see you're a steady person and live nearby, so take my advice: stay away from that area! Don't go poking around the Old Factory District at night! That's not something to mess with! It used to be about losing your life, but now… who knows what it will turn into!"

His warning came from the heart, carrying the simple, unadorned nature typical of an old worker, mixed with a profound fear born from witnessing horror.

"I understand, Master Zhao, thank you for telling me this." Ling Ye nodded solemnly and gently patted the back of Old Zhao's hand, where veins were bulging, conveying a trace of comfort, "You take care of yourself too, and don't worry too much about these things."

Old Zhao seemed to realize he had said a bit too much and was feeling a bit emotional.

He let go, took a few deep breaths to calm down, and returned to his usual slightly rough demeanor, waving his hand: "Alright, alright, why am I telling a young pup like you all this. I'm off, going home to eat!"

He picked up his things and left the park with a somewhat stumbling gait, his back appearing exceptionally old and heavy in the twilight.

Ling Ye sat on the bench for a long time, motionless.

The last glimmer of the sunset was swallowed by the clouds, and the streetlights in the park lit up one by one.

He had finally obtained the most direct description of the secret beneath the Old Factory District from the mouth of someone who had experienced it!

Buried down there wasn't just a simple industrial accident or pollution, but some living, corrosive, heterogeneous existence from an unknown realm!

The Seventh Machinery Factory's accidental touch was just the tip of the iceberg.

And now, sealed away by time and geological activity, it might be loosening; "its" influence (smell, sound, energy field) was seeping back into the surface, triggering the Crystal-Armored Beast abnormality, the strange noises in the community, and attracting attention from all sides.

His parents' mission, the "Star Gate," "Deep Space Frontier Capital," the forces represented by Su Qing and Zhou Ming, the lurking strange creatures, the surveillance vehicles… all of these seemed to revolve around this buried "heterogeneous existence."

And he, Ling Ye, or rather Lin Ye, this Soul from another world bearing the "Gatekeeper" Legacy and the "Reincarnation" mark, seemed destined to have an unavoidable intersection with this "existence."

The sense of crisis was unprecedentedly strong, but his goal was also unprecedentedly clear.

He stood up slowly and looked toward the Old Factory District.

In the darkness, it was as if a giant beast was sleeping there, slowly opening its cold eyes.

He needed to become stronger faster, needed to learn more, needed to… prepare to face it.

Turning around, Ling Ye walked away from the park with firm steps.

Slow and steady wins the race.

And the real storm might be coming soon.