228: The Forest of Illusions: Breaking Free from the Cage

Late at night.

The study in the Su residence.

The snow outside the window made the room somewhat bright.

Su Ming dismissed all the servants and sat alone at the desk.

Before him lay a sheet of fine rice paper, held down by a warm, smooth piece of Hetian jade paperweight.

He picked up the brush and dipped it into thick ink.

It was not that he wanted to write.

It was a deeper urge, stemming from his Soul, that was driving his arm.

The brush tip fell, and the ink lines wandered.

The start was crisp, the strokes rounded, the turns sharp.

They were not words.

They were lines.

They were Runes.

"Gather," "Defend," "Flow," "Balance"...

Those patterns, which he did not know why he knew but felt incredibly familiar with, flowed naturally from his brush tip.

Those basic runes that he once knew by heart were not drawing upon any Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi at this moment; it was merely ink seeping into the paper.

But Su Ming's hand was trembling slightly.

A long-lost palpitation, originating from the depths of his Soul, traveled along the brush handle and spread through his entire body.

It was a brand carved by thousands of monotonous practices during those days and nights at Hundred Refinements Peak, under the dim oil lamp, in the cold pile of scrap material.

This body had no spiritual power, had not been tempered by Spiritual Qi, but this brand had long since transcended the physical body and was inscribed within his consciousness.

The brush tip moved faster and faster.

The prototype of a complex Formation diagram slowly emerged on the paper.

Nine-Bend Blazing Sun Formation · Variant.

This was the flash of inspiration he had during the second stage of the Outer Sect assessment. Using water to guide fire, turning hardness into softness.

He did not remember when he had seen this pattern, but it appeared just like that, carrying an unquestionable sense of "reality."

He looked at the imperfect, smudged, and trembling lines on the paper, and his eyes grew hot.

These "imperfections" made him feel more intimate and grounded than that perfect world outside.

"My Dao..."

Su Ming put down the brush, looked at the ink-drenched rice paper, and whispered to himself.

"Does not lie in this perfect cage."

The moment these words were spoken, the air in the study seemed to solidify.

The candle flame, which had originally been burning very steadily, suddenly flickered violently, elongated, and turned into an eerie blue-gray color.

Su Ming stood up and calmly surveyed his surroundings.

"Dissipate," he said indifferently.

There was no earth-shattering explosion, nor any heart-wrenching roar.

It was like a scroll scorched by fire.

The sandalwood grain on the edge of the desk began to twist and fade, turning into countless tiny gray specks of ash, disintegrating silently.

The warm, smooth Hetian jade paperweight lost its luster rapidly, turned into a rough, stubborn stone, and then immediately crumbled into powder.

The famous calligraphy and paintings hanging on the wall, the Persian carpet on the floor, and even the perfect snowy scene outside the window...

At this moment, all began to collapse silently from the edges toward the center.

The "Xu Qing" wearing the scarlet official robes, that kind mother, that dignified father... their figures flashed in Su Ming's mind one last time, and then shattered like bubbles.

Su Ming stood amidst the flying ash, and the official robes on his body also began to dissipate, revealing the familiar, patched gray Utility Disciple robe beneath.

Cold.

The bone-piercing cold wrapped around his body once again.

That was a real sensation.

Darkness surged in like a tide, swallowing the brightly lit Hanlin Academy, swallowing the warm capital city.

Su Ming closed his eyes, a look of relief curling the corners of his mouth.

...

Outside the Heart Questioning Forest.

Inside that seemingly ordinary mountain rock, the atmosphere suddenly became heavy.

On the light screen, which had been as calm as water, violent ripples were now emerging.

The light spot representing Su Ming, which had previously been emitting a soft and stable milky white light, had been slowly wandering at the edge of the light screen, as if sleeping in warm water.

But just in that instant, the brightness of the light spot surged violently.

Following that, the original slow oscillation frequency changed drastically, shifting from deep calmness to violent high-frequency tremors.

The milky white light quickly faded, replaced by a deep, ancient, metallic copper color.

"This fluctuation..." The Heart Questioning Elder, who had been sitting with his eyes closed, suddenly opened his eyes and stared fixedly at the violently trembling light spot.

"A violent tremor of the spirit, yet not a collapse, but rather... Awakening?"

Beside him, Zhang Lie's face, which was usually as cold and hard as iron, also revealed an undisguisable look of shock.

"Junior Martial Uncle, this is..." Zhang Lie pointed at that copper color, his voice somewhat dry. "This is not the feedback a 'Basic Style' illusionary realm should have! In a Basic Style illusionary realm, when breaking the situation, there should be clear light soaring into the sky, and the Heart Demon should dissipate. This copper tremor... it looks more like..."

"True Style."

The Heart Questioning Elder slowly spat out these two words, his tone carrying a trace of disbelief. "He directly triggered a 'True Style' resonance."

"True Style?!" Zhang Lie gasped. "Isn't that the Formation mode that only activates during the assessments of Inner Sect Core Disciples or even True Disciples? This kid... is just a Utility Disciple; how could his mind be so complex that he could actually stir the deep-level Array Patterns of the Heart Questioning Forest?"

The Heart Questioning Forest Formation becomes stronger when it encounters the strong, and more complex when it encounters complexity.

Ordinary Utility Disciples have simple minds, seeking nothing more than Immortal Ascension and longevity, so the illusionary realm remains at the shallow level of Mortal World wealth.

Only those who are compatible with the Dao of Formations or possess special Soul bodies will cause the Formation to determine that the 'Basic Style' cannot contain them, thus automatically upgrading.

"The last time someone triggered the True Style before entering the Inner Sect..." The Heart Questioning Elder tapped his fingers lightly on his knees, his gaze deep. "It was three thousand years ago, that previous Ancestral Master of Formation Peak, Xuan Yunzi."

Zhang Lie's expression tightened.

Xuan Yunzi was a monument in the history of the Cloud Hidden Sect's Dao of Formations.

It is rumored that he was born with a 'Seven-Orifice Exquisite Heart,' breaking any Formation upon entry, mastering all laws naturally.

"This child..." Zhang Lie looked at the light spot that was still trembling violently and becoming deeper in color, his throat feeling somewhat dry. "Could it be a special Soul body? Or is it that he is also naturally compatible with the Dao of Formations?"

The Heart Questioning Elder did not answer. He raised his hand and cast a spell into the light screen.

"Since it has been triggered, then it is his fortune, and also his tribulation."

The Elder's voice returned to calm, but the slightly trembling tip of his horsetail whisk betrayed his inner unrest.

"Beneath the True Style, great terror will arrive. I hope he does not breed a Heart Demon because of this."

...

Within the illusionary realm.

The perfect world had completely collapsed into a void of ash.

Su Ming stood in a dead silence of darkness.

There was no light here, no sound, and he couldn't even feel the passage of time.

The joy of having just rediscovered his true self was being rapidly devoured by a deeper, colder aura.

If the 'Hanlin Academy' from just before was a gentle tomb, then now, the malice squeezing in from all directions was a naked blade.

Su Ming did not move.

He just stood there quietly, adjusting his breathing.

Since he had chosen to break that false perfection, he was prepared to face all of this.

"No matter what it is..." Su Ming chanted silently in his heart, his fingers gripping the air, as if that brush were still in his hand.

"It is better than the fake."