32: Chapter 32 Eight Years of Conquering the World, a Broken Door Blocks Her Way

Donghai City, temporary shelter.

The municipal gymnasium had been requisitioned.

Over three thousand folding cots were arranged in a square formation.

Military-green blankets were folded neatly, though few remained that way; most were wrapped around bodies, curled up into balls along with the people inside.

Old Zhao sat on the edge of a cot in the corner, his back against the wall, his hands folded over his knees.

He had been sitting there for six hours, his posture unchanged.

Thirty years of sailing the seas.

He had seen typhoons, he had seen giant waves, and there had even been times when he nearly capsized.

But compared to that vertical pupil from last night, those things were like comparing a paper boat to an aircraft carrier.

The phone screen lit up and dimmed, then lit up again.

His wife had sent her nineteenth message.

He hadn't replied to a single one.

He didn't know how to type.

"Dad, when are you coming back?"

His son's message was sandwiched in between.

Old Zhao stared at the line of text, his lips moving slightly, before finally flipping the phone face down onto the blanket.

On the cot next to him, a young mother holding a child was scrolling through her phone.

On the screen was the Weibo trending list.

#Donghai Phenomenon#

#Donghai New Weapon Test#

#China's New Defense Equipment#

The official announcement from the Donghai City Weibo account was pinned to the very top:

"Yesterday was a routine test of our country's new defense equipment. The optical and acoustic effects produced during the test are normal phenomena; please remain calm, citizens. The blockade of the area is expected to be lifted within three days."

The comment section was split in two.

"I knew it! Great power heavy weaponry! I have no regrets being born in China!"

"What kind of weapon is this? It burned the sky red? What about the video I took from my balcony? Why can't I post it?"

"Warship formations + city-wide evacuation + air raid sirens; does testing a weapon really require this level of mobilization? Do you guys believe it? Because I don't."

"To the person above, have you ever been to Donghai? My home is by the sea; the ground was shaking last night! The window glass cracked on its own! Is this something a test can cause?"

"Does anyone get it? Please don't let me be the only mortal left; next thing you know, you'll all be flying on swords."

Under this final high-ranking comment, thousands of replies flooded in with memes and screenshots from xianxia novels.

Some people were laughing.

More were not.

Those who lived by the sea and saw the sky change color with their own eyes, those who were herded onto buses by armed convoys without even having time to grab their luggage—they silently scrolled through their phones, looking at the words "New Weapon Test," knowing in their hearts that it wasn't a weapon.

Weapons wouldn't turn the sky the color of blood.

Weapons wouldn't make the sea churn like water in a pot.

Weapons wouldn't burn a pillar of fire into the night sky that was white enough to blind the eyes.

But they couldn't say anything either.

Those who had signed confidentiality agreements dared not speak, and those who hadn't were not believed even if they did.

Two hours later, those questioning posts were precisely deleted.

The comment section regained its orderly formation of "Great power heavy weaponry" and "No regrets in this life."

Old Zhao pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes.

Behind his eyelids was only that pillar of flame.

And at the top of the flame, that figure stepping on white fire, face partially obscured by a mask.

— —

Jingzhou, western suburbs, Torch Base.

Su Chen leaned against the altar steps, scrolling through his phone.

The golden light of the ancient tree fell onto the screen, mixing with the blue light of the Weibo comment section in an eerily harmonious way.

He took a screenshot of the highly-ranked comment, "Please don't let me be the only mortal left," and saved it to his phone album.

It might come in handy later; material for public opinion.

He then exited Weibo and opened his notebook.

"The official silencing efficiency is top-tier. The announcement wording is professional, the post deletion is precise, and the public opinion guidance completed its shift within two hours."

The pen tip moved down a line.

"But the gap can't be plugged for long. When the next exotic beast appears, if it's in a densely populated area, a single announcement won't be able to suppress it."

He turned to a blank page and began to calculate.

Current points: 3250. E-tier crystal × 1.

Creating an E-tier Kindling: 1000 points + crystal.

Bestowing a transcendent sequence on others: 1000 points.

Making a Kindling for Liu Yuyan and bestowing it cost a total of 2000.

After finishing, 1250 remained.

Su Chen circled the "2000" and wrote three words next to it — "Black Market System."

After thinking about it, he circled it three more times.

To break through from Tier 2 Watcher to Tier 3: Fire-Bearer, he needed a Kindling of at least D-tier.

But the system's current level could only create E-tier.

Upgrading required Reality, and Reality was the hard currency.

Su Chen closed his eyes for a moment.

The bronze piece was still in the military laboratory.

The perception module was kept on, intermittently capturing fragments of information from the surroundings.

Section Chief Han Zheng had established the "Xinhuo Tracing Special Office."

The first archaeological team had already set off, targeting the ruins of the Ancient Observatory in Qin Province.

Su Chen's pen tip paused on the paper for two seconds.

The Ancient Observatory in Qin Province.

Section Chief Han Zheng choosing this point as a breakthrough indicated his intelligence integration capability was stronger than expected.

But there was nothing there.

At least, not right now.

Su Chen wrote a line in his notebook — "Let them dig first. Let them dig up a blank slate. I'll fill it in after I upgrade."

No rush.

The process of the archaeological team digging up "nothing" was itself a form of preheating.

When they had scoured the entire Ancient Observatory and were left empty-handed and full of confusion, suddenly discovering a stone tablet carved with the totem of spark in the most inconspicuous corner—the impact of that moment would be ten times greater than burying an entire ruin directly.

The contrast creates the thrill.

He closed the notebook.

The system panel flashed quietly in the corner of his vision.

Then a line of red text popped up:

"Unknown human individual detected within a 50-meter radius of the courtyard perimeter. Not Liu Yuyan. Not construction personnel."

Su Chen's hand stopped.

He pulled up the system's spatial perception interface.

A heat source signal was approaching the courtyard along the dirt road.

The movements were cautious, the stride was minimal, and there were frequent pauses.

Three steps, wait two seconds. Another three steps, wait three seconds.

Every time they paused, their center of gravity shifted slightly, as if observing the surrounding environment.

It was a typical reconnaissance movement pattern.

Not official.

Section Chief Han Zheng's people would have vehicles and formations; they wouldn't be walking alone.

It wasn't the construction team arranged by the Liu family; the construction team was in the backyard and took a different route.

Su Chen flipped the notebook to the code name he had circled.

Zero.

The lips beneath the mask curved into a subtle arc.

"Arriving faster than I expected."

He leaned against the ancient tree, not moving.

The notebook was closed and placed beside the stone steps.

The mask was within reach, but he didn't take it.

Waiting.

— —

Outside the courtyard.

Lin Xiaoman stood at the end of the dirt road.

Her hat was pulled down to her eyebrows.

The backpack straps dug into her shoulders; inside were two changes of hoodies, a bag of barbecue-flavored potato chips, three charging cables, and a palm-sized portable terminal.

She looked like a middle schooler running away from home.

The courtyard in front of her was different from the satellite images.

The walls had been freshly plastered, two shades whiter than the surrounding abandoned farmhouses.

The courtyard gate had been repainted in a dark brown, and the bronze door knocker was polished to a shine.

The weeds at the entrance had been cleared, and a bluestone path paved all the way to the edge of the dirt road.

From the backyard came the sporadic sound of electric drills and the muffled thuds of workers moving bricks.

Someone was renovating.

Lin Xiaoman walked around the courtyard wall.

She scanned the wall with her portable terminal.

The result was exactly the same as what she had seen on the screen two weeks ago.

No abnormal electromagnetic radiation.

No encrypted signal sources.

No anomalies on any digital level.

Clean.

She put the terminal back into her pocket and stood in front of the gate.

The cell phone signal had one bar, teetering on the edge.

Wind blew through the withered grass, the rustling sound filling the entire dirt road.

The sunlight of the late autumn afternoon was thin, casting no warmth on her face.

Lin Xiaoman stared at the newly painted gate for ten seconds.

Eight years.

She had sat behind a keyboard for eight years; every door in this world with a password was as good as non-existent in front of her.

But this courtyard had no door.

It wasn't that it couldn't be opened—it was that there was simply nothing to open.

Yet all the "problematic" clues pointed here.

Yet the place itself had "no problems."

She had only seen this feeling in one place—a honeypot.

Top-tier honeypots weren't designed for defense; they were designed for fishing.

The more ordinary the surface, the more the things inside didn't belong to this level.

Lin Xiaoman had finished her lollipop, but the plastic stick was still in her mouth, bitten with tooth marks.

She reached out and pushed open the gate.

The bronze door knocker was ice-cold in her palm.

The sound of the door hinges turning was exceptionally clear in the quiet courtyard; a creak, dragging out a long tail.

The front courtyard.

Cleaner than expected.

The stone path had been swept, the moss at the base of the walls had been mostly scraped away, and several bags of cement and a stack of new bricks were piled in the corner.

Her footsteps were very light.

Her canvas shoes made almost no sound on the stone slabs.

Passing through the middle courtyard.

A pomegranate tree, most of its leaves fallen, branches swaying in the wind.

Under the tree was a stone table, the surface wiped very clean, with a coarse porcelain teacup resting on it, dried tea stains clinging to the cup walls.

Someone had drunk tea here.

Lin Xiaoman crouched down and touched the edge of the tea stain with her fingertip.

Dried for less than two days.

She stood up and continued walking inside.

The innermost room.

An old wooden door.

Unlike the renovated courtyard in front, this door hadn't been replaced.

The paint was mottled, the wood grain cracked, and aged dust was embedded in the door cracks.

But beneath the door crack—there was light.

Extremely faint, warm, golden.

Not sunlight; sunlight was white.

This light carried a texture she couldn't describe, as if something was quietly, continuously, and tirelessly burning behind the door.

Lin Xiaoman's footsteps were frozen.

She pulled the plastic stick from her mouth and clutched it in her palm.

Her other hand slowly reached toward the door panel.

Her fingertips were two centimeters from the wood.

— —

Behind the door.

On the stone steps.

Su Chen leaned against the ancient tree, watching the heat source signal on the system perception interface stop in front of the innermost door.

Heartbeat accelerating, breathing frequency changing, fingers hovering near the door panel, not touching.

Hesitating.

Su Chen leaned against the ancient tree, his gaze falling on that pulsing heat source dot.

The world's number one hacker, who had hacked through all the digital walls of this world.

Now she stood in front of a broken wooden door.

The thing behind the door was not in the network cables.

Su Chen picked up the mask and pressed it onto his face.

His fingers pressed the edge of the bronze mask, clicked it into place, and released.

Then he stood up, walked down the stone steps, and headed toward the entrance of the stone corridor.