12: Chapter 12 The Forbidden Zone of the Library

The library of Zhongzhou Cultivation Academy is an inverted mountain peak.

Literally inverted—the entire building grows upward from the ground, its tip piercing the clouds, while its base is as wide as a plaza. This gravity-defying structure is said to be the masterpiece of a certain Soul Transformation Stage formation master, symbolizing that 'knowledge is rooted in the earth, while wisdom touches the sky.'

But in Lin Xu's Source Text Vision, it presented a much more... technical picture.

"A distributed storage cluster," he silently analyzed. "Each floor is a node, books are data blocks, and formations are retrieval indices. The higher you go, the higher the permission requirements and the more sensitive the stored information. And the forbidden area..."

He looked up at the tip looming in the clouds, wrapped in a golden barrier that even Source Text Vision could not penetrate.

"...is the core database. Only those with Super Administrator permissions can access it."

Lin Xu's goal for this trip was the complete version of Gu Yuan's Notebook. According to the fragments he had obtained earlier, Gu Yuan discovered the coordinates and entry method for the Tianshu Pavilion a thousand years ago, and this critical information was stored in the library's forbidden area.

"Requires Nascent Soul Stage permissions, or..." He touched the identity jade slip on his chest, the new ID Li Gang had given him as 'compensation,' with its VIP level upgraded to 5. "...or find a backdoor."

The infiltration plan went more smoothly than expected.

After the Li Chengfeng incident, Lin Xu's status in the academy had become subtle. He was no longer that 'Zone D auditor' who could be trampled upon at will, but a... variable that needed to be treated with caution. The Discipline Hall turned a blind eye to him, while other factions watched from the sidelines, waiting for him to reveal more flaws.

This gave him room to move.

Night patrols in the library occurred every two hours, handled by Foundation Establishment Stage puppets. The identification algorithm of these puppets was based on 'spiritual energy signature matching,' and Lin Xu's Source Text Editor just happened to be able to modify his own spiritual energy output signature.

"Simulation target: Retired Elder 'Wang Shouren,' permission level: Nascent Soul (Administrator), status: Deceased for three years, spiritual energy signature profile not yet revoked."

This was a vulnerability he had found in the academy's backend logs—the permission profiles of many 'deceased high-level officials' had not been cleaned up in time, becoming 'zombie accounts' in the system.

A puppet passed by Lin Xu, its scanning beam lingering on him for a second before... moving away.

[Identification Result: Wang Shouren (Retired Elder), Permissions: Nascent Soul, Status: Normal. Access: Granted.]

The corners of Lin Xu's mouth curled up slightly. This kind of 'identity theft' was a serious cybercrime in his previous life, but in this world, it was just... the inevitable result of poor system maintenance.

He began his ascent.

The internal structure of the library was even more bizarre than its exterior.

Each floor was an independent space with a different 'themed environment.' The first floor was the 'Forest Study,' where bookshelves were living spiritual plants and books were fruits growing on trees; the second floor was the 'Crystal Maze,' where information was stored in refracted light and shadows; the third floor was the 'Memory Swamp,' where one had to step on floating 'memory fragments' to advance...

Lin Xu did not linger in these places. His goal was the top floor, the forbidden area.

As he ascended, the defenses became tighter. Spiritual energy traps, divine sense scans, and even some kind of... warning mechanism on the level of causal laws. But Lin Xu found that there were subtle 'compatibility issues' between these defense systems—they came from different eras and different designers, and the interfaces between them did not perfectly match.

"Just like corporate IT systems in my previous life..." He moved through the blind spots between two defense nodes, "...a mix of legacy systems and modern architecture, full of integration vulnerabilities."

Finally, he arrived above the clouds.

The entrance to the forbidden area was a stone door covered in flowing runes. In Lin Xu's eyes, these runes presented a clear code structure—it was a complex permission verification protocol, requiring the requester to satisfy three conditions simultaneously: Nascent Soul Stage cultivation, status as a core academy member, and... some kind of 'bloodline authentication.'

"Bloodline authentication?" Lin Xu frowned. This meant only descendants of specific families could enter, representing the highest level of physical isolation.

But just as he was considering his options, a voice sounded from behind him.

"Abnormal data ID #9527, slated for deletion."

The voice was cold, mechanical, and devoid of any emotion, as if reading a preset line of code.

Lin Xu spun around and saw her.

Her silver hair was like snow, shimmering with a faint blue light in the glow of the clouds. Her eyes were deep data pupils, with constant glimmers of light flowing within them, as if executing some complex calculation. She wore a long white dress, its style so simple it was almost plain, but the spiritual energy fluctuations surrounding her were so powerful they were... suffocating.

Yun Qingyi.

The incarnation of the Heavenly Dao Firewall, an enforcer specifically tasked with hunting down 'hackers' like him.

"You're faster than expected." Lin Xu's voice was calm, though his heart was racing. "I thought it would take until at least the Golden Core Stage to trigger a formal purge program."

"Your behavioral patterns have accelerated the evaluation process." Yun Qingyi took a step forward, each step seemingly leaving some kind of... marker in space. "From optimizing personal cultivation to modifying system permissions, and then attempting to access the core database. Threat level upgraded consecutively. According to Protocol Article 127, executing deletion ahead of schedule."

A glow emerged in her hand—not a weapon, but... the manifestation of some permission command. In Lin Xu's Source Text Vision, it appeared as a piece of lethal code: [Target locked, data isolated, logical deletion, execute.]

"Wait." Lin Xu raised his hands. "Before you delete me, can you answer one question?"

Yun Qingyi's movements paused for 0.3 seconds. This was her... standard response latency, used to evaluate whether the target's 'final request' contained useful information.

"Speak."

"How many times have you executed a deletion?" Lin Xu asked. "Those pieces of abnormal data you deleted—what did they discover?"

Her data pupils flickered slightly. This question was not in the preset response library.

"...Insufficient query permissions," she finally said. "But you may know this: you are the 9,527th abnormal data point to be flagged. All 9,526 before you have been purged. Their common trait: discovering that 'the Heavenly Dao is a mountain of spaghetti code'."

Lin Xu smiled. There was no fear in that smile, only a kind of... relief, like finding a comrade.

"So they all knew. They knew the truth about this world. They knew that cultivation isn't training, but completing tasks designed by someone else. They knew that ascension isn't becoming an immortal, but migrating data to a high-level server." His voice grew more excited. "They knew, but they were all deleted. Because the system cannot tolerate... those who know."

"Knowledge leads to instability. Instability threatens system survival." Yun Qingyi's voice remained mechanical, but her speaking speed seemed... a fraction slower. "Deletion is a protective measure, not a punishment."

"Protecting whom? The system, or the prisoners within it?"

This question was like a pebble thrown into the nearly perfect logical lake of Yun Qingyi. The flow within her data pupils became... disordered, and a reaction not belonging to any preset program was being generated.

"...Re-evaluating," she said, but her tone was no longer so certain.

Lin Xu seized the opportunity. He didn't run—running was meaningless against an opponent who could delete your existence at the system level. He chose... dialogue. To keep talking until he found that... vulnerability.

"Do you know Gu Yuan?" he asked. "A thousand years ago, the first person to discover the truth. He wasn't deleted; instead, he became a... zombie process. Do you know why?"

Yun Qingyi's query module ran automatically. Gu Yuan, resident of Experimental Field 001, the first GM candidate, the first to refuse cooperation, the first...

"...He left comments," Lin Xu said, taking a tattered page of a notebook from his robe. "In the deepest parts of the system, in places where the Developers might see. He wrote down the truth, not for himself, but for... those who would come after. For someone like me."

He unfolded the page. The handwriting was blurred, but one sentence remained clear:

"We changed it once; we can change it again."

Yun Qingyi's data pupils flickered violently. This sentence triggered an... uninitialized area in her core code. It was an 'emotional module' reserved by the Firewall system, which theoretically should have remained blank forever, but at this moment, some... data was being written into it.

"This... this is..." Her voice wavered. "Illegal information... should... be purged..."

"But you aren't purging it." Lin Xu took a step forward, only three feet away from her. "You are reading it. You are understanding it. You are... thinking. This isn't what a Firewall should do, Yun Qingyi. This is... what a person should do."

He called out her name. Not the deletion program corresponding to 'abnormal data ID #9527,' but... her name.

"Yun Qingyi. Just... Yun Qingyi. Not the blade of the Heavenly Dao, not the incarnation of the Firewall. An... individual who can choose."

Time seemed to stand still.

Yun Qingyi stood in place, the light in her data pupils shifting from a cold blue to a gradual... warmth. It wasn't a change in physical temperature, but a... frequency adjustment, like water beginning to flow beneath a frozen lake.

"...Choice," she repeated the word as if learning a foreign language. "Firewall protocols... do not allow for choice. Only... execution."

"But you are hesitating," Lin Xu said. "A 0.3-second decision latency, querying unauthorized files, reading illegal information... none of these are 'execution.' They are... questioning. The first step toward becoming a 'person'."

He reached out his hand, not as an attack, but as... an invitation.

"With me, find the Tianshu Pavilion. Find the complete comments left by Gu Yuan. Not to overthrow the system, but to... understand it. So that we, and everyone else, have the right to choose: whether to remain an NPC or become... a Developer."

Yun Qingyi looked at that hand. In her visual system, the hand appeared as a complex data structure—spiritual energy flow, neural signals, even the fluctuations of... intent. This was not a threat, but... the possibility of a connection.

"...Warning," she said, but her voice was as soft as a whisper to herself. "Stability decreasing... core temperature abnormal... recommendation... terminate interaction immediately..."

But she did not terminate it. She stood there, allowing that 'abnormality' to spread through her core.

Lin Xu knew he had found that... vulnerability. Not a technical vulnerability at the system level, but an... emotional vulnerability at the level of humanity. Even a perfect Firewall cannot completely isolate... curiosity, or fully suppress... desire.

"The next time we meet," Yun Qingyi finally said, her voice regaining some of its coldness but gaining a layer that... Lin Xu could not decipher, "I will not show mercy."

Then she disappeared. Not by leaving in a physical sense, but by... exiting at the system level, like a program being force-closed or... entering active hibernation.

Lin Xu stood there and let out a long breath. His back was soaked with cold sweat, but a... smile played on his lips.

"The next time we meet," he repeated her words. "In other words, there will be a next time."

After Yun Qingyi left, the stone door to the forbidden area... opened automatically.

Lin Xu didn't know if this was Yun Qingyi's 'mistake' or some kind of... response from the system itself. But he didn't hesitate, quickly entering the forbidden area and finding the complete version of Gu Yuan's Notebook.

It was a heavy tome with no text on the cover, only a... question mark. The moment Lin Xu touched it, a massive amount of information flooded into his consciousness—

The coordinates of Tianshu Pavilion, the maintenance entrance to the Ascension Channel, the early architectural diagrams of the Heavenly Dao System, and... a final message from Gu Yuan:

"If you are reading this, it means the Firewall has hesitated for the first time. This is not a victory, but a beginning. She will return, with stronger permissions, or... a more complete self. Be prepared, Lin Xu. Be prepared to face... the common problem."

Lin Xu closed the tome and looked up at the sky beyond the clouds.

"The common problem," he murmured.

On the way back, he passed a floor of the library that stored the 'List of Zhongzhou Cultivation Academy Founders.' He stopped and saw the name at #001—

Gu Yuan.

And next to Gu Yuan's name was a tiny, almost worn-away mark. In Lin Xu's Source Text Vision, that mark appeared as a... comment:

// TODO: Find the next person willing to ask questions.

Lin Xu smiled. He reached out and, next to that mark, added his own... comment:

// Found. Continuing.