49: Chapter 49 The Tipping Point (Part 2)

9:40 PM. Summer Palace, back hill.

Lin Yuan stood in the same patch of woods he had snuck through that night. Fifty meters ahead, two cold white emergency lights illuminated the main entrance of the abandoned hall, making the doorway look like the entrance to an operating room.

Six men in black were scattered around the entrance. Two by the door, two in the veranda on either side, and two at the back wall. Their positioning was calculated, covering each other with no blind spots.

Lin Yuan took the Button out of his inner pocket, glanced at it, and put it back.

He opened his phone and pulled up the architectural blueprint.

Underground floor, the core refinement area for the ten thousand infant banner. There was only one entrance—that door with the lights on. But twenty-one years ago, during the renovation, Zhou Jishen had left a small note on the blueprint.

"Spare ventilation duct, diameter 0.7 meters, leads to the abandoned drainage well on the north slope of the back hill."

Lin Yuan zoomed in on that detail.

The duct exit was in a bush thirty meters north of the hall. His current position was another two hundred meters north.

He closed his phone and disappeared silently into the night.

Fifteen minutes later, he crawled out of an abandoned drainage well, covered in mud. In front of him was a rusted iron grate, and behind it was a pipe sloping downward, just wide enough for a person to crawl through.

He tried pushing the grate.

It was rusted shut.

He drew the alloy short blade engraved with anti-evil runes from his waist, inserted it into the gap between the grate and the wall, and pried it little by little. Rust flakes fell with a rustle, and the iron grate let out a faint creak.

By the third minute of prying, the grate loosened.

He gently took it off, leaned it against the well wall, and crawled into the pipe.

The pipe was dark and narrow, filled with a smell of decaying rust and something even colder, something that made one's soul tighten—the smell of the ten thousand infant banner. He crawled forward, his elbows and knees grinding against the hard pipe walls, each movement making a faint friction sound.

Every ten meters, he stopped to listen.

Footsteps and muffled voices occasionally came from above the pipe. He couldn't determine their exact location, only estimating the direction based on feeling.

After crawling for about twenty minutes, the pipe came to an end.

Ahead was an iron louver, through the gaps of which leaked a faint, ominous blood-colored light. He pressed his eyes against it.

Below was the core refinement area of the ten thousand infant banner.

That small blood-colored banner, pieced together from countless infant faces, hovered in the center of seven vein-locking nails. It was darker than it had been four days ago, with more frayed edges, and the faces emerged more frequently. Below the banner, a person was tied to a metal chair.

Zhou Jishen.

His head hung low; it was impossible to tell if he was unconscious or awake. His only suit was covered in dust, and the sleeve was torn.

The seven vein-locking nails were vibrating more violently than before, emitting a continuous low-frequency hum. The runes on the nails flickered rapidly, as if they were about to explode at any moment.

Mo Feigong stood three meters in front of Zhou Jishen, his back to Lin Yuan. Today he wasn't wearing his black Taoist robes, but a dark red robe, the hem dragging on the ground, stained with some black, viscous, unidentified substance.

The doctor—the man named Zhou Jishen—stood half a step behind him. No, not behind him. The position that had once been behind him was now occupied by another person in a white lab coat.

The new doctor.

Mo Feigong had been prepared.

Lin Yuan suppressed his breathing to the minimum.

"Jishen." Mo Feigong spoke, his voice hoarse, like rusty iron rubbing together, "You've followed me for twenty-one years. I've given you far more than you deserve. Eight thousand in internship allowance, fifteen thousand in starting salary, doubled year-end bonuses, your mother's medical bills. Which one wasn't given by me?"

Zhou Jishen did not look up.

"That testimony you gave this morning cost me the deposit for six overseas guardians, two backup plans, and the three buffer channels I had already negotiated with the Regulatory Committee." Mo Feigong took a step forward, "Tell me, how should we settle this account?"

Zhou Jishen slowly raised his head.

Lin Yuan saw his face. He looked even more haggard than in the morning, but his eyes were very bright.

"The money you gave me," Zhou Jishen said, "I've kept track of every cent. The first degree of earth vein vitality extracted by the vein-locking nails, I remember. The day the green bonds defaulted, my mother's second hospitalization expenses, I remember that too."

He paused.

"The thirty-seven instructions I read out this morning, every single one was true."

Mo Feigong laughed.

The laughter echoed in the empty underground space, like the cry of a night owl.

"True." He said, "Of course it's true. Every one of those thirty-seven instructions was spoken by me personally, but so what?"

He stepped closer, leaned down, almost touching Zhou Jishen's face.

"Your testimony this morning was missing the most critical link—the instruction to refine you into a container, did you read that?"

Zhou Jishen looked at him.

"No."

"Because it hasn't happened yet." Mo Feigong straightened up, "In two more hours, it will happen."

He turned around and walked toward the ten thousand infant banner.

"Zhou Jishen, do you know what a 'container' is?"

Zhou Jishen did not answer.

"A container isn't about killing you and refining you inside." Mo Feigong's voice came from the ten thousand infant banner, "A container is letting you live, live to feel every degree of earth vein vitality flowing through your body, live to watch your own soul being squeezed out bit by bit, living until the day the critical value is reached—bang."

He snapped his fingers.

"That sentence of yours, 'Mom, wait for me to come back,' you'll never be able to go back."

Zhou Jishen did not speak.

Lin Yuan, in the pipe, gripped the Button tightly.

He needed an instruction.

A personally delivered instruction to "refine Zhou Jishen into a container."

But everything Mo Feigong had said so far was "it will happen in two hours," "a container isn't about killing you and refining you inside," and "after you become a container."

It wasn't an instruction.

It was a description.

It was a presupposition.

He was too cautious. For twenty-one years, he had never given a direct instruction on any occasion that could leave evidence. He wouldn't today, either.

Lin Yuan put the Button back in his inner pocket.

He had to try another way.

He gently pushed the louver open, widening the gap enough for his body to pass through. Then he slid out of the pipe silently, landing in a shadowy corner of the underground floor.

About twenty meters from Zhou Jishen.

About twenty-five meters from Mo Feigong.

Distance to the six overseas guardians—unknown. But they were all upstairs, guarding the door.

He crouched behind a pile of discarded debris, making himself as small as possible.

Then he did something.

He pulled a talisman from his pocket—the first anti-evil talisman he bought at the black market three months ago, which he hadn't finished using. He folded the talisman into a very small piece, pinched it between his fingertips, and flicked it gently toward Zhou Jishen.

The talisman drifted three meters and landed on the ground, soundless.

Zhou Jishen's head moved slightly.

Lin Yuan pulled out another one. This time he infused a trace of extremely subtle spiritual energy into it, making the talisman emit a faint, warm fluctuation when it landed—completely opposite to the cold atmosphere around the ten thousand infant banner.

Zhou Jishen raised his head.

He saw it.

Lin Yuan, in the shadows, held his index finger to his lips.

Zhou Jishen didn't move. But his eyes told Lin Yuan: I see you.

Lin Yuan pointed to his own ear, then to Mo Feigong's back, and then made a gesture of crushing something.

Zhou Jishen watched for three seconds.

Then he lowered his eyes, as if he had lapsed back into unconsciousness.

But his lips were moving. Moving silently.

Lin Yuan understood.

He was saying: "I am waiting for your instruction."

Lin Yuan took the Button out of his inner pocket and held it in his palm.

Mo Feigong was still standing in front of the ten thousand infant banner, his back to them. The new doctor was sitting in front of the monitoring terminal in the corner, head down, looking at data.

Time passed second by second.

Lin Yuan counted his heartbeats. About seventy-two per minute. From now until the Zi hour, there was about one hour and forty minutes left.

Mo Feigong was waiting for the critical value.

Zhou Jishen was waiting for him.

He was waiting for Mo Feigong to say that sentence.

But Mo Feigong might never say it.

He had to make him say it.

Lin Yuan closed his eyes, drawing a three-dimensional map in his mind—the chair where Zhou Jishen sat, the position of the ten thousand infant banner, Mo Feigong's stance, the new doctor's perspective.

Then he opened his eyes.

He made his second move.

He stood up from his hiding spot.

—Not rushing out.

Walking.

Step by step, walking out of the shadows, into the blood-colored light.

Mo Feigong sensed the aura behind him and turned around abruptly.

He saw Lin Yuan standing fifteen meters away, his hands hanging naturally at his sides, no weapons, no talismans, no spiritual energy fluctuations.

Zhou Jishen raised his head abruptly.

The new doctor jumped up from the monitoring terminal.

Rapid footsteps came from above—the six overseas guardians were rushing down.

But Lin Yuan didn't look at them.

He looked at Mo Feigong.

"Mr. Mo," he said, "I'm here."

Mo Feigong stared at him.

A full five seconds.

Then he laughed.

Louder, longer, and more cheerfully than when he had laughed at Zhou Jishen just now.

"Lin Yuan." He said, "God of Ruins. The counterparty to Lingxiao Capital. The ant I've been looking for for three months."

He waved his hand.

The six rushing overseas guardians stopped at the stairs.

"Don't move." Mo Feigong said, "Let him walk over."

Lin Yuan didn't move.

"I'm not walking." He said, "I'll just stand here."

Mo Feigong's smile faded slightly.

[part:gemini-3.0-flash]

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to trade for him." Lin Yuan looked at Zhou Jishen. "His godhood isn't worth much—a data engineer with no foundation of faith. Mine is different. BBB rating, S-rank expansion potential, a cross-border Optimization case just completed, and expected yield for the next twelve months—"

He paused.

"You need a vessel that can stably suppress the backlash of the ten thousand infant banner. He isn't qualified. I am."

Zhou Jishen struggled violently, the ropes biting into his wrists.

"Lin Yuan—!"

Mo Feigong waved his hand again. An Overseas Protector stepped forward and struck the back of Zhou Jishen's neck with his palm. He slumped down.

Lin Yuan didn't move.

He looked at Mo Feigong.

Mo Feigong also looked at him.

"Do you know what you are saying?" Mo Feigong's voice lowered.

"I know," Lin Yuan said. "My godhood in exchange for his release. Refine me into it instead. His mother is waiting for dumplings; my sister is waiting for her next stage of treatment. You can do the math on this account."

Mo Feigong fell silent for three seconds.

Then he laughed. This time, it was a genuine laugh coming from deep in his chest.

"Interesting," he said. "Three months ago when you signed the godhood loan, you were also settling accounts. Settling Zhao Wuyong's account. Today you're here to settle accounts again."

He took a step forward.

"But you missed one thing."

"Since you're standing here, you're already unable to leave. Whether Zhou Jishen leaves or not, you are the vessel."

Lin Yuan looked at him.

"I know."

Mo Feigong stopped.

"Then why come?"

Lin Yuan didn't answer.

He made a third move.

He reached out and pulled a Button from his inner pocket, holding it up in the air.

Mo Feigong's expression changed.

"A Psionic Real-time Transmitter," he said. "You brought a dog from Lingxiao Capital with you."

"Yes."

"You haven't crushed it yet."

"Yes."

Mo Feigong stared at the Button in his hand.

"What do you want to do?"

Lin Yuan turned the Button slightly, letting it reflect a faint light in the blood-red glow.

"If I crush it now, Lingxiao Capital will initiate intervention within three minutes. Your people won't be able to stop them, the power to the ten thousand infant banner will be forcibly cut off, Zhou Jishen will be taken out, and all accounts under your name will be frozen."

"But you also know."

"The moment I crush it, you will kill me immediately. Lingxiao Capital will only be coming in to collect my corpse."

Mo Feigong didn't speak.

"So this is how the account is calculated," Lin Yuan said. "I'm betting this life on a single command from you."

"A command?"

"I want you to say it yourself: Refine Lin Yuan into the vessel."

Mo Feigong's pupils contracted slightly.

"If you say it, I'll crush it. Lingxiao Capital will come in, collect my body, collect Zhou Jishen, and seize your ten thousand infant banner. My life will be gone, but the chain of evidence will be complete—an illegal command given by you personally, transmitted in real-time, undeniable."

"If you don't say it, I won't crush it. You kill me, kill Zhou Jishen, and refine us both into vessels. But without that command recorded, Lingxiao Capital will never have a reason to intervene. The freeze order will automatically expire after forty-eight hours, your accounts will be unfrozen, and you can continue to drain the ley lines and refine the ten thousand infant banner."

He looked at Mo Feigong.

"You choose."

The underground space was deathly silent.

Countless infant faces silently emerged and vanished within the ten thousand infant banner. The seven vein-locking nails vibrated continuously, emitting a low hum.

Mo Feigong stood there, motionless.

A long time passed.

Then he spoke.

"You miscalculated one thing."

Lin Yuan didn't move.

"If you don't crush it, I kill you and refine you into a vessel. If you do crush it, I kill you, Lingxiao Capital arrives in three minutes to collect your corpse, Zhou Jishen, and the banner—all my accounts are frozen, but so what?"

He took a step forward.

"Frozen accounts don't mean the ten thousand infant banner is destroyed. The energy within it remains. Lingxiao Capital can cut its external power supply, but they can't cut the connection between it and me. As long as I live, it exists."

"When they rush in three minutes later, I won't be able to leave. But Zhou Jishen won't be able to leave either. Because I will finish the final step before he is taken away."

He took another step.

"The Button in your hand right now isn't a threat. It's a wager. You're betting that I care about the accounts, betting that I wouldn't dare personally destroy twenty-one years of accumulation."

"But you bet wrong."

He walked until he was a meter in front of Lin Yuan.

"I don't care about the accounts."

"What I care about is why an ant like you always dares to stand before me and try to settle accounts."

He raised his hand.

Lin Yuan didn't dodge.

The hand hung in mid-air.

Then Mo Feigong laughed.

It was a very soft laugh.

"You're right," he said. "If I don't say those words, you have no evidence. Lingxiao Capital will never be able to get in."

He lowered his hand.

"But where you're wrong is—I don't need to say those words."

He turned and walked back to the front of the ten thousand infant banner.

"Lin Yuan, by standing here, you are already the vessel."

"A vessel doesn't need a command."

He stood with his back to Lin Yuan.

"The ten thousand infant banner has already remembered your aura. From the first second you entered this underground space, it has been marking you. In another hour and thirty-seven minutes, when the threshold is reached, it will automatically extract the nearest and most suitable living soul—if not you, then him."

He didn't look back.

"Of the two of you, one must stay tonight."

Lin Yuan's hand holding the Button tightened slightly.

He looked at Zhou Jishen.

Zhou Jishen's head was bowed, unconscious. There was a bruise on the back of his neck from where the protector had struck him. His only suit was torn, and his cuffs were stained with black mud from the ground.

He looked at the ten thousand infant banner again.

Those infant faces were still drifting. Their eyes were closed, but Lin Yuan knew they would open.

The moment the threshold was reached.

He looked at Mo Feigong's back again.

A dark red robe, its hem dragging on the ground, stained with a black, viscous substance.

He remembered Zhou Jishen's mother's words: "He told me, 'Mom, wait for me to come back.'"

He remembered how steady Dr. Li's hand was when she signed the witness commitment form.

He remembered Zhou Jishen standing in the witness box, reciting those thirty-seven commands without looking at a single document from beginning to end.

He thought of that pot of dragon tail plant.

The roots weren't broken; it could live.

He gripped the Button tightly.

Then he spoke.

"Mo Feigong."

Mo Feigong didn't look back.

"You just said that by standing here, I'm already the vessel."

"Correct."

"You said the ten thousand infant banner has already remembered my aura."

"Correct."

"You said that when the threshold is reached, it will automatically extract the nearest living soul."

Mo Feigong finally turned around.

He looked at Lin Yuan.

"What are you trying to say?"

Lin Yuan held up the Button.

"I want to say—"

He crushed it.

"You're finished."

The moment the Button shattered—

Mo Feigong's pupils shrank!

But in the next second, his expression changed.

It wasn't shock or anger.

It was confusion.

Because the shattered Button didn't emit any psionic fluctuations.

No transmission signal.

No audio or video feed.

Nothing at all.

Mo Feigong stared at the fragments in Lin Yuan's hand.

"It's a fake."

Lin Yuan didn't answer.

He just stood there, looking at Mo Feigong, with a very faint curve at the corner of his mouth.

Mo Feigong suddenly realized something was wrong.

He whipped his head around to look at the seven vein-locking nails.

The vein-locking nails were still vibrating, but the frequency—had changed.

It wasn't the stable, low hum from before.

It was a sharp, chaotic screech, as if trying to break free from something.

Every infant face in the ten thousand infant banner opened its eyes.

They were no longer drifting within the banner.

They were all looking in the same direction—

Looking at Mo Feigong.

Mo Feigong's face turned deathly pale instantly.

"What did you detonate—"

Before he could finish his sentence.

A muffled rumble from deep underground echoed from beneath their feet!

The entire underground space shook violently!

All seven vein-locking nails simultaneously erupted with blinding blood-red light; the runes on the nails flashed like mad, and cracks rapidly spread upward from the base of the nails!

The faces in the ten thousand infant banner all surged out—not toward Zhou Jishen, not toward Lin Yuan—

But toward Mo Feigong.

Mo Feigong stumbled back, crashing into the ten thousand infant banner.

Those faces pounced on him, tearing and biting, burrowing into his skin, eyes, and mouth.

He screamed.

The screams echoed through the underground space, mingled with the silent roars of the infant faces.

Lin Yuan stood where he was, unmoving.

He saw Mo Feigong rolling and thrashing on the ground, his fingers clawing into the stone crevices, his fingernails completely torn back—

He saw more and more faces pouring out of the ten thousand infant banner like an opened sluice gate, all pouncing on the owner of the dark red robe.

He heard the sound of the vein-locking nails shattering.

One.

Two.

Three.

All seven vein-locking nails exploded at once, shards flying everywhere. The vitality of the ley lines gushed out from underground like an uncontrolled flood, and the entire underground space was illuminated as bright as day by the blinding psionic light!

Lin Yuan closed his eyes.

Then he heard—

From far away.

Many footsteps.

Rushing down from above.