91: Chapter 91: Heading to the Moon to Investigate the Crisis

Chen Mo's sense of crisis was sending out warnings.

It was an extremely strange perception.

It was as if some earth-shattering event was about to occur, like a silent earthquake brewing somewhere he could not see.

But when he focused his mind, trying to pierce through that vague premonition to touch the truth, he could see nothing clearly.

Chen Mo pushed his perception to the limit.

Yet, his premonition revealed an indescribable contradiction: the crisis did not seem to directly affect him personally; what was truly threatened was this world.

Not just a certain city, not a certain country, but the entire Blue Planet; some massive change was about to descend.

A change?

He hovered in the air, his brows furrowing ever so slightly.

Spiritual Energy Revival had been going on for quite some time, the atmospheric oxygen content had climbed to 23%, the Human Breathing Method was being promoted globally, and hundreds of millions of people were learning and evolving.

At such a juncture, what new change could there be?

Could it be that Spiritual Energy Revival was about to undergo some kind of qualitative change?

Or was it that the structure of the world itself was about to encounter some turn he knew nothing about?

Chen Mo thought for a long time.

Several guesses flashed through his mind: would Spiritual Energy Revival usher in a new stage?

Or would some unknown existence appear in the world again?

Every speculation had its own reasonableness, yet none could be confirmed.

But one thing was certain: a huge crisis was brewing somewhere. And for now, it had not yet arrived.

He had to prepare in advance.

He took his phone from his pocket, his fingertips sliding quickly across the screen to send a message to Minister Li Long.

"Assemble all departments and take all kinds of preventive measures. I sense that a crisis affecting the entire world is imminent."

The wording was brief, the tone calm, without any unnecessary embellishment.

After sending the message, Chen Mo put his phone away.

He raised his gaze, piercing through the atmosphere, through the stratosphere, through that deep blue boundary, and cast it toward a higher and more distant place.

A pale golden light shone from his body, and a Force Field instantly enveloped him.

The next second, Chen Mo's figure turned into a stream of light, piercing straight into the sky.

His speed climbed to Mach 25, exceeding eight thousand meters per second.

The air was pushed aside by the Force Field before him, and the sonic boom was completely eliminated.

Only a thin golden line remained, streaking across the dome of the sky; if someone happened to look up, they might catch a glimpse for an instant before it vanished at the edge of their vision.

In just over ten seconds, Chen Mo had broken through the Kármán line.

All sound vanished in that instant.

The last trace of the atmosphere was left behind, replaced by boundless silence.

That absolute quiet was different from any environment on the Blue Planet.

There was only him, and this silence itself.

Chen Mo did not stop.

He continued to fly forward, his direction clear—the Moon.

He needed to confirm one thing: whether the impending crisis was limited only to the scope of the Blue Planet, or if even the Moon would be affected.

The distance from Earth to the Moon is about four hundred thousand kilometers. At Chen Mo's current speed, it would take about thirteen hours.

There was enough time.

He maintained his speed, advancing at a constant rate through the vacuum.

The blue planet beneath his feet was slowly shrinking, while the Moon ahead was slowly growing larger.

After entering space, Chen Mo's perception could still capture that faint sense of crisis.

It did not weaken because he had left Earth; on the contrary, it appeared even clearer in space, as if the Universe itself was echoing with some kind of low-frequency tremor.

This deepened the doubts in Chen Mo's heart.

Even in space, there was an effect?

What exactly was it?

He had no answer. He could only continue forward.

Time passed minute by minute.

Thirteen hours later, Chen Mo arrived ten kilometers above the Moon.

He began to descend slowly. The lunar surface grew larger and closer in his field of vision.

Those craters that could only be seen with a telescope now became real mountain ranges, lying rolling and undulating on the grayish-white surface.

The edges of the craters cast sharp shadows, their outlines distinct under the moonlight in the vacuum.

He continued to descend.

The moment his toes gently touched the surface of the Moon, fine lunar dust slowly rose.

On the Blue Planet, dust would fall quickly after being stirred up.

But here, the extremely low gravity made everything become slow.

Those gray particles floated leisurely into the air, taking a long time to fall back to the ground, like a silent movie in slow motion.

Chen Mo stood on the Moon.

He looked quietly at the land beneath his feet.

There was no air, no water, no life here.

Only endless silence and desolation.

For billions of years, nothing had ever grown here; no wind had eroded these rocks, no rainwater had washed over this land.

Every speck of dust maintained its original form from when it was created by impact, sleeping as if timeless.

But the Spiritual Qi was the same.

Including the same sense of crisis.

This made Chen Mo increasingly puzzled.

It was on the Moon as well.

The scope of the crisis was larger than he had imagined; it was not a regional event, nor a change in the Blue Planet itself.

It was something more fundamental, touching upon the Spiritual Qi itself, or touching upon some kind of rule deeper than Spiritual Qi.

With puzzlement, Chen Mo raised his head and looked at the Sun.

It was not the Sun seen from the Blue Planet.

Without the scattering of the atmosphere, the Sun was no longer a warm, golden-yellow disk.

It was a searing white circle with extremely sharp edges, like a precisely cut diamond, embedded rigidly in the pure black canopy of the sky.

Its brightness far exceeded the scope of anything measurable by experience on Earth; an ordinary person's retinas would be burned through the instant they looked directly at it.

But Chen Mo's eyes could withstand such light.

Chen Mo also saw a ring of pearl-like silver solar corona.

That thin layer of plasma extended outward from the Sun's surface, curving into graceful arcs, flowing slowly in the vacuum.

Each arc of light was longer than the diameter of the Blue Planet itself, carrying radiation capable of piercing through everything.

He stood there, feeling the breathtaking, magnificent power from that star in the distance.

After a long while, he turned around and looked at the other side.

The Milky Way.

It was a brilliant, three-dimensional river of stars.

Countless stars poured down from the deep space overhead, like a waterfall of light, spanning the entire field of vision, extending all the way to the distant horizon.

He could not see the end of the sky, nor the beginning and end of time.

Billions of stars were burning simultaneously above his head.

Distances of billions of light-years were compressed before his eyes into a vast sea of light.

Chen Mo remembered the starry sky he had seen when he was at the Shennong Mountain Range.