55: Chapter 55 The Passerby on the Lost Island

Since his luggage was all in Hu Jinsi's personal backpack, he just checked the door of his room, walked out of the residential complex, and took public transportation to the gathering place at the entrance of the Wandering Isle dungeon.

Perhaps because it was the holiday season, the entrance to the Wandering Isle was filled not only with students but also with some older individuals, likely people who had just changed classes and were preparing to retrain.

They stood in small groups near the entrance, some wearing coarse martial artist robes, some draped in physician's long coats, and others with long swords tucked at their waists, looking like knights-errant who had walked out of some wuxia world.

The air was permeated with a scent mixed with sweat, herbs, and metal—the unique aroma of Eastern class professionals.

Unlike when everyone went to the Blood Moor over in Wei City, the professionals coming to the Wandering Isle dungeon in Daibei City during the holiday mostly wore attire oriented toward Eastern classes.

Only a minority sported the Western "tin can" style or the tech-oriented style with handheld firearms; for the most part, the styles before Hu Jinsi's eyes were dominated by martial artists, knights-errant, and physicians.

A few martial artists in cloth armor were sparring in the open space next to the entrance; the muffled thuds of fists and feet colliding and shouts echoed one after another, with a crowd of onlookers surrounding them, occasionally cheering.

Hu Jinsi stood on the periphery of the crowd, watching everything silently. He was wearing a Raccoon City police uniform, a dark blue jacket and pants, with Hot Boot Spikes on his feet. Compared to the Eastern styles of robes and short garments all around him, he looked like someone who had wandered onto the wrong set, appearing somewhat out of place with everything here.

He did not attempt to form a party.

Because this dungeon could no longer pose much of a threat to him, he didn't actually come with any hope of gaining anything; rather, he wanted to see a place he used to be familiar with and just walk around by himself.

After all, this sense of loneliness had begun to dissipate with his awakening and the day-to-day battles, but for that final lingering trace, he hoped to make a decent farewell in a familiar place.

After a simple registration at the dungeon entrance, Hu Jinsi entered the Wandering Isle dungeon.

Hu Jinsi opened his eyes to find himself standing at the foot of the stone steps of the Five Mornings Temple.

The humid sea breeze, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood, rushed toward him. The bluestone slabs under his feet were as warm and smooth as jade, with a few stubborn patches of moss growing in the crevices. Sunlight spilled down from the high canopy, casting mottled spots of light on the stone path. The sound of distant waves was faint, like an endless lullaby.

He looked down at his hands. Soft white light flowed at his fingertips; that was the Qi only a Monk would have. It was a familiar place, yet what he wore was not the heirlooms he had farmed from the dungeon back in the day, but a Raccoon City police uniform, which felt somewhat out of place with everything here.

Hu Jinsi knew he wasn't here to level up. Everything here had long since ceased to offer any experience for him.

"Directly teleported to the Five Mornings Temple, huh..." Hu Jinsi muttered to himself, his voice sounding exceptionally thin before the empty mountain gate.

He looked up at the vermilion gate. The doors were half-ajar, and the copper beast on the door knocker was still as vivid as ever, exactly the same as in his memories. But he knew in his heart that behind this door, there would no longer be anyone to shout that familiar "Welcome to the Five Mornings Temple" at him.

Hu Jinsi stepped onto the steps, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Upon reaching the threshold, he habitually turned sideways, wanting to avoid the narrow gap that had been intentionally left to glitch the camera angle back in the day—it was his favorite place to play hide-and-seek when he was still a low-level character.

The great hall was empty.

Prayer mats were arranged neatly on the floor, and a few unburnt incense sticks even stood in the incense burner. The blue smoke rose straight up, dispersing in mid-air into faint wisps of cyan silk. The giant statue still kept its eyes lowered, compassionately overlooking the empty great hall.

Hu Jinsi stood at the entrance and did not walk in.

He just watched. Watching those familiar pillars, watching the high platform where Master Shang Xi had once stood, and watching the golden particles suspended in the air—those had once been special effects that the game engine refreshed eternally to create a sense of sanctity, but they were still preserved within the dungeon.

"Master Shang Xi." Hu Jinsi called out tentatively.

The voice struck the walls of the great hall, bounced a few times, and then sank into the dead silence.

There was no response. Not even a small Pandaren NPC responsible for running errands was there.

Hu Jinsi suddenly felt a bit amused. He clearly knew there was nothing here, yet he still greeted the air like a fool.

Hu Jinsi withdrew his gaze and turned toward the side hall on the right. That was the training ground from back then. Passing through an archway, a few thick wooden stakes stood quietly in the courtyard, with a few worn-out sandbags scattered nearby.

Everything was exactly the same as when he did his newbie quests back then.

Hu Jinsi walked to the most prominent wooden stake, subconsciously assuming the [Crane Stance], with a ball of soft Qi condensing at his fingertips. Back then, it was right here that he had struck the wooden stake blow by blow, doing those rather interesting newbie quests.

Now, his hand hovered in mid-air.

He knew that if he struck, the wooden stake would vibrate and make a sound, but no quest progress bar would pop up, and there would be no system notification of "Quest Complete."

Hu Jinsi paused, and in the end, he gently pressed his hand against the rough surface of the wooden stake. The white light at his fingertips flickered slightly, as if he were patting an old friend on the shoulder rather than attacking.

"Still here, huh," he said.

Then, he turned and left the side hall, walking toward the direction of Morning Breeze Lake down the mountain. There was still a fishing spot there; he had to go see if the fish there had disappeared as well.

Hu Jinsi walked down along the stone path from his memories, passing through a sparse bamboo forest. The bamboo leaves rustled in the wind, but the sound seemed a bit too "clean"; there were no bird calls, no insect chirps, and even those subtle background noise frequencies mixed into the background music, typical of a newbie village, seemed to have been erased by a mute button.

This was like a scene stacked up purely from art assets; only the monsters that could be defeated still existed, while everything else had been wiped away.

He soon arrived at the edge of Morning Breeze Lake.

The lake water was still that same emerald color, shimmering with fine silver light under the sun. The familiar protruding rocks by the lake were still there; back then, he had stood on these very stones, practicing jumping toward the lake surface to avoid those annoying Water Pincers.

Hu Jinsi walked onto that most prominent stone and stood firm. The tactile sensation under his feet was very real; even the texture of the stone was exactly the same as when he had stood there for the first time many years ago.

"Fishing spot," he muttered, and almost as a conditioned reflex, he grabbed the empty air with his right hand, making a casting motion.

Of course, nothing happened. There was no fishing rod in his backpack, and no shimmering fish schools around. He wasn't even sure if there were any fish left under this lake in a version where even the NPCs had vanished.

But Hu Jinsi still habitually squatted down and stared at the water surface.

The water reflected his face and the quiet Five Mornings Temple behind him. He remembered very clearly that back then, in order to grind his fishing skill points, he had squatted here for an entire afternoon just to max out the fishing spot.

Hu Jinsi reached out, his fingertips grazing the surface of the water. Qi circulated at his fingertips, yet it didn't stir a single ripple.

He suddenly felt a bit bored. This boredom wasn't because there was nothing to play with, but because you knew full well the game rules had ceased to function, yet you still subconsciously wanted to follow them.

Hu Jinsi stood up and brushed off the non-existent dust. Since the fish were gone, so be it.

The first night, Hu Jinsi stayed by Morning Breeze Lake. Just as the Gunpowder Squad had said, for low-level dungeons, you don't have to use them to gain experience; using them for tourism or to clear your mind is also an excellent option. You don't have to worry about the monsters inside; you just need to find a place you find comfortable and rest there.

He took a sleeping bag out of his backpack and spread it on the rocks by the lake. The night sky was clear, with stars densely covering the firmament, brighter than the starry sky anywhere in the real world. From afar came the sound of waves, monotonous and long, one overlapping another.

Hu Jinsi did not meditate. He just lay there, looking at the stars, until sleepiness slowly crept over him.

The next morning, Hu Jinsi turned around, facing away from Morning Breeze Lake, and looked toward the southeast. Across a patch of woods, he could see smoke rising faintly in the distance; that was the direction of Mandori Village, and a bit further on was the Stormstout Brewery he had been longing for.

"Let's go," he said to the empty lakeshore, "and see if Old Chen is still drinking."

Hu Jinsi did not use stamina to accelerate, nor did he run. He just walked step by step, passing through the empty thatched cottages of Morning Breeze Village, and passing by the ridge where he had once been chased by Hozen until he rolled all over the ground.

The wheat in the fields grew tall, a vast expanse of golden yellow, undulating with the wind. But he knew that no farmers would come to harvest it here anymore.

When he reached the entrance of Mandori Village, the sky began to turn yellowish. He stopped and looked at the wooden sign at the village entrance; it should have had the quest summary written on it, but now only a bare wooden board remained.

"It's the second day." Hu Jinsi looked at the sky, his tone flat.

Since the NPCs were gone, there was no such thing as a "quest deadline." But he still wanted to follow the rhythm of back then. The first day visiting the temple and the lake, the second day going to the inn.

Hu Jinsi took a deep breath and stepped toward the direction where the scent of wine drifted. Although he knew that the scent of wine was likely just an illusion in his memory.

The morning in Mandori Village was excessively quiet.

The wheat waves rolled, yet there was no sound of wind. The golden wheat ears glowed with warmth in the setting sun, like an oil painting that someone had pressed the pause button on. He walked on the ridge, his footsteps falling on the dry, hard dirt road, making a monotonous "rustling" sound.

Hu Jinsi looked up at the distant field ridges.

A few Hozen were jumping up and down among the wheat stalks, tearing at each other in play. In the past, when he saw this, his first reaction would be tension, afraid of being chased all over the map by them. But now, there was only a faint trace of annoyance in his eyes.

"So noisy."

He reached back and pulled a long staff from his backpack. He did not charge forward, but stood his ground, flicked his right arm, and the long staff extended diagonally. The movement was clean and efficient, without any unnecessary flair.

"Bang, bang, bang."

A few muffled impact sounds rang out in the empty wheat field.

Those Hozen didn't even have time to scream before they were struck by the long staff blows. The flesh and fur on their bodies disintegrated the moment they made contact, turning into clusters of colorless light particles, dissipating silently into the air like erased ink marks.

There were no corpses, no bloodstains, not even a speck of dust left behind.

This was the truth of this world; they were never "life," just projections of the past waiting to be cleared.

Hu Jinsi withdrew the long staff, weighed it in his hand, and slung it back over his shoulder. Looking at the empty field ridges, he said calmly:

"Quiet at last."

Passing through the wheat fields, passing through the gap in the fence that always used to get him stuck, the familiar two-story wooden building gradually came into view.

Stormstout Brewery.

The characters on the sign were still striking, and the lanterns at the entrance were still hanging, but they no longer cast their flickering light.

Hu Jinsi walked to the entrance, but instead of pushing the door open, he went straight around to the side of the building. Familiar with the way, he stepped on a few protruding wooden planks and leaped directly onto the second-floor open-air platform.

This was his "old spot."

Hu Jinsi walked to the wooden table by the railing and pulled out a chair to sit. The tabletop was clean as new, with no grease stains or wine spills, and of course, none of those mouth-watering plates of roasted ribs or hot soup.

Hu Jinsi looked around. The hall downstairs was empty; those Pandaren NPCs that used to gather around Chen to listen to stories were long gone. In the distance, at the brewery, the lever that once required jumping up to pull and trigger the barrel animation was nowhere to be seen.

Everything was just as he had expected: clean, with nothing left.

He reached into the side pocket of his backpack and pulled out a small glass bottle of "happy water" he had bought in the real world. This was an "alien object" he had specially brought into this world.

Hu Jinsi placed the bottle on the table and took out two disposable paper cups from his small bag. He filled one cup and placed it on the chair opposite him—that was Chen's spot. He filled another and placed it on the floor nearby—that was Li Li's spot.

Hu Jinsi filled a cup of clear water for himself as well.

The setting sun dyed the entire brewery orange-red, and he could almost hear that chubby figure slapping his thigh and saying in a booming voice, "Back in Kalimdor, Rexxar and I were friends who had been through life and death together! If I hadn't blocked that arrow for him, the gates of Orgrimmar might not even be standing today!"

That was Chen Stormstout, the most famous traveler of the Wandering Isle. What he told the newcomers here were not lies, but the true glory of the Stormstout family.

And now, even the person who recounted this history had been reduced to nothing but air.

Hu Jinsi picked up his cup, looked at the two full cups, and whispered, "To everyone who is not here."

After saying that, he tilted his head back and drained the cup in one gulp.

Putting down the cup, Hu Jinsi looked at the empty chair opposite him. For a split second, he had an illusion that he could see a chubby figure sitting there, grinning at him.

He shook his head, casting the illusion from his mind. Long before Hu Jinsi entered the dungeon, he had already thought it through clearly; Zhen Jin had already been in as a Mistweaver monk for over a month, and if anything could truly be triggered, he would have triggered it long ago.

Hu Jinsi, who came here today, was just a person revisiting an old place, a person saying goodbye to his past self once again.

He stood up and packed away his small bottle and paper cups. As he passed the railing, he subconsciously glanced at the hall downstairs.

A few Hozen had been peeking and poking their heads there, trying to rush in and cause trouble.

Hu Jinsi stopped, turned around, and faced downstairs. He reached back with his right hand and grasped the long staff on his back once more.

He didn't speak, just flicked his wrist, and the long staff swung out through the air. Several staff shadows, imbued with Chi, lashed out through the air and landed precisely on those Hozen.

"Bang, bang, bang."

There were no screams, no struggles. The moment the staff shadows touched those brown figures, they disintegrated into clusters of colorless light, shattered into dust, and silently vanished into the gradually dimming light.

The hall returned to absolute cleanliness.

Hu Jinsi retrieved his long staff, slung it behind his back, and said faintly to the empty inn hall, "Good night."

Then he turned and walked down from the second floor along the path he had come.

The night grew darker. Tomorrow, he would go to the very edge of the island to confirm one last thing.

Tonight, Hu Jinsi rested at the Stormstout Brewery. What was especially rare was that tonight, Hu Jinsi did not meditate but instead slept quietly. Unfortunately, no old friends came to find him in his dreams.

---

On the morning of the third day, Hu Jinsi walked out of the Stormstout Brewery, and the sunlight had already blanketed the southern peninsula.

He did not take the main road but instead turned into a familiar side path. It was a shortcut to Singing Ridge; back in the day, to avoid those annoying Hozen, he had always pushed through this bamboo forest.

The bamboo leaves rubbed against each other in the breeze, making a rustling sound. He remembered very clearly that back then, many Cloud Serpents roamed this bamboo forest. They would coil on the bamboo tips, their scales gleaming coldly in the moonlight, making them the "invisible monsters" that beginners feared the most.

Now, Hu Jinsi saw a few ghostly blue shadows moving between the bamboo branches.

He stopped and grasped the long staff on his back with his right hand again.

The Cloud Serpents seemed to sense his aura, hissed, and dove down from the bamboo tips. He did not retreat, just flicked his wrist, and the long staff swept across.

"Bang."

Soft white light enveloped the staff's shadow, and the moment the Cloud Serpent touched the staff, it turned into a cluster of colorless light points and dissipated into the night breeze.

There was no battle, just a simple clearing out.

Hu Jinsi passed through the bamboo forest, and the path under his feet began to grow steep. He arrived at the entrance of the Silent Cave. The entrance was pitch black; back then, it was filled with a faint mist, and the stone walls were carved with ancient Pandaren text, telling stories of reincarnation and parting.

He stood at the cave entrance but did not go in.

He just leaned his head in and, by the moonlight, took a glance at those familiar symbols on the cave wall. That was the guidance left by Master Shang Xi, and it was the only "instruction manual" for the Wandering Isle.

"Master Shang Xi," he whispered to the pitch-black cave entrance, "I know you are not here anymore."

After saying this, he withdrew his gaze, did not linger, and continued along the mountain path toward the outermost side of the island.

That was his true destination for today.

Hu Jinsi went straight through the fields, following the path in his memory, walking toward the outermost edge of the Wandering Isle.

The sensation under his feet changed.

It shifted from soft soil to a hard, rough shell. This was the back of Shen-zin Su, the true body of this island. The shell was covered in the ravines of time, feeling cold and hard to the touch, yet it faintly revealed a steady pulse—or rather, a pulse that had once existed.

He walked fast and quietly. He didn't use any movement skills, just moved forward step by step. The wind whistled in his ears, but Hu Jinsi always felt that something was missing from the sound of the wind.

It was missing that low, long turtle call.

By this time, it was already the night of the third day.

Arriving at the cliff edge at the very end of the island, Hu Jinsi stopped. Beneath his feet was an abyss, and the pitch-black seawater surged in the night, lashing against Shen-zin Su's shell and emitting a dull, booming sound.

The night was like ink, and starlight sprinkled on the sea surface, shimmering with fine silver light.

Hu Jinsi stood at the end of the cliff, facing the vast ocean.

This was the place where he had first seen Shen-zin Su. That giant sea turtle carried the entire island, traveling through the mist, bearing the last hope of the Pandaren.

Hu Jinsi took a deep breath, his chest filled with the salty, humid sea breeze. He raised his head, gazed at the stars in the void, and with all his might, shouted loudly toward the direction of the sea: "Shen-zin Su—!"

The sound exploded over the empty sea, but there was no echo.

There was no signature low hum carrying ancient wisdom.

There was no system prompt saying, "You have discovered Shen-zin Su."

No giant head emerged from the sea to gaze at him with gentle eyes.

There was only the sound of the wind, only the monotonous sound of waves lashing against the rocks.

He waited for a while and shouted again, his voice louder and more forceful than before, as if trying to shout out years of accumulated longing. "Shen-zin Su—!"

It remained dead silent.

The waves continued to lash against the cliff, as if they had heard nothing. The hard shell under his feet remained motionless, no longer transmitting any tremor of a heartbeat. It was no longer a living giant turtle but had truly become a dead island, a huge, cold rock model.

Hu Jinsi slowly crouched down, placing his palm against the rough shell.

Chi flowed from his fingertips, but in his perception, there was only a void of hardness; there was no blood flowing, no organs rising and falling, no resonance of a soul.

There was nothing left here. Even the final physical body was nothing more than an empty shell.

He withdrew his hand and looked at his fingertips. The light of his Chi flickered slightly in the darkness, yet he could not find any object to heal or soothe.

"So even you..." Hu Jinsi muttered, his voice dissipating in the wind.

He stood up and took one last look at the pitch-black sea. He did not turn back, nor did he say another word. He took his steps and walked back into the island, step by step.

He walked on like that, step by step, his back disappearing into the darkness deep within the Wandering Isle.

---

At 9:00 AM on the fourth day, Hu Jinsi appeared again near the gates of the Temple of Five Dawns.

He tried to use his phone to record everything he had seen; he knew well that there was not much time left for this dungeon. It might not even last until the end of the winter break before this dungeon shattered.

Perhaps in the near future, a Water Blue Star version of the Wandering Isle would truly appear near Daibei City, but that would no longer be the one in Hu Jinsi's memory.

Hu Jinsi returned to the training grounds of the Temple of Five Dawns.

He walked to that old training dummy from back in the day, preparing to take one last look.

Suddenly, he discovered that on the surface of the originally bare training dummy, a line of crooked yet vigorous carvings had appeared at some point: "Chi is not limited to moves."

—That was Master Shang Xi's handwriting.

Hu Jinsi reached out and stroked those words. The light of his Chi overlapped with the carvings, and he finally understood that this trip was not about seeking inheritance; his talent had already given him everything, and this journey had finally filled that trace of emptiness in his spirit.

---

Time was up, and Hu Jinsi's figure was about to vanish from the Wandering Isle.

A line of familiar system text appeared in the void before his eyes: [Hu Jinsi, thank you for your exploration of the Wandering Isle. This memory has been archived.]

[Achievement Obtained: Passerby of the Wandering Isle (Unique)]

Achievement Description: "You have been here, and that is eternal."

As for the achievement reward, Hu Jinsi took a look; the Brewmaster and Windwalker specialties had now been added to his pool of specialties available for drawing, waiting for a reunion on some future day.