Feng Yilian and Chen Mo gritted their teeth, pushing their speed to the absolute limit. Yet after being delayed by the assassins for so long, even with wings, catching up in time felt nearly impossible.
They were still ten kilometers away from Wu Qiang.
“Heh, too late,” Wu Qiang muttered, glancing back at the two figures trailing far behind.
The spatial rift lay a mere five hundred meters ahead.
Lifting the Cage of Shrinking Earth, Wu Qiang peered inside at Jing Pei. “At least you can die knowing your friends gave everything to save you.”
Jing Pei lay motionless inside the cage, resting in a fresh pool of her own blood. A heavy layer of Atavist energy pinned her to the bottom, keeping her from slamming against the bars as the cage swung, while simultaneously preventing her from making any sudden moves.
She offered no futile struggle. Instead, she let out a faint, raspy laugh. “A person with friends is never a true failure. Unlike your Young Master, Jiang Qing—a failure through and through. When news of Master Wu’s death spread, did a single soul weep for him or claim he was wronged?”
Wu Qiang’s face stiffened. He didn’t dare imagine Jiang Qing’s reaction to those words.
In truth, Jiang Qing’s face was twisted in anger. When he was younger, reading books or watching shows, he had always sneered at villains who ruined their own plans by talking too much. Why couldn’t they just wait until their enemies were dead? But experiencing it firsthand brought understanding.
He couldn’t blame them for speaking. Certain hatreds simply had to be aired out. Spewing venom at a corpse provided no satisfaction; suffering only registered while the victim was still alive to feel it.
Just like when he had slaughtered that Atavist’s entire family right before the man’s eyes—watching the monster weep, beg, and crumble like a pitiful stray dog had been pure bliss, refreshing like a cold drink on a scorching summer afternoon.
He had called Wu Qiang, and the phone now lay inside the cage right beside Jing Pei. His voice carried raw, poisonous venom through the speaker. “Long Jin, you will pay for everything you’ve done. Chu Xusheng, Long Yiming, every single member of the Long family—I won’t spare a single one. Especially Chu Xusheng and your friend in the Nevergone District. I will tear them apart piece by piece and burn their bones to ash, making them curse the day they ever met you!”
“And Qiu Fa—he might be strong, but I’ll find a way to kill him too. Wait for them in hell, Long Jin! Every person you love, and every person who loves you, will join you soon!”
Yet, he failed to spot a single shred of fear or despair on Jing Pei’s face.
“You’re dreaming,” she whispered softly. “I told you—you’ve reached your limit. You can’t kill me, and you can’t kill a single one of my friends.”
“Where do you get this confidence?” Jiang Qing slammed his fist onto the armrest, his knuckles aching from the force. Fury surged through him, yet he felt as if his punches were landing on soft cotton.
“Jiang Qing,” she murmured, her tone carrying a gentle, almost mocking pity. “How do you know that everything you’ve set up isn’t just another piece in my plan?”
Even battered and bleeding, her cat-like eyes held a dark, mysterious glimmer, wearing a faint smile that suggested every single variable remained firmly within her grasp.
For a brief, disorienting second, Jiang Qing felt as though he were the victim, and she was the true villain orchestrating everything.
A storm raged in his mind. A piece in her plan? What plan? Where did it begin? Did it include her injuries? Did it include her death today? No… no! She’s just trying to get under my skin! She’s a delusional lunatic!
She’s playing with me!
“Throw her in!” Jiang Qing roared through the phone. “Let’s see how tough your mouth is when you’re frozen solid!”
Wu Qiang and his cohort reached the abandoned primary school’s courtyard, leaping up the corridor railings and landing on the rooftop.
The spatial rift hovered in midair just above the roof. Bitter, sub-zero air spewed from the dark, oval tear in space. Cold air sank downward, turning the damp moss covering the concrete into a thick sheet of frost that spread rapidly across the roof.
The organization members tasked with operating the machines were ordinary humans. Unable to endure the brutal drop in temperature, they had already fled the building.
Wu Qiang and his companion felt the icy bite as well, but they pressed forward. Unlocking the Cage of Shrinking Earth, Wu Qiang drew back his arm and hurled Jing Pei toward the hovering rift.
The moment her body cleared the cage, she grew back to her normal size. Her dark hair flew in the wind, while her pale skin and crimson lips looked delicate beneath the dim sky—like a flower blooming just before it wilted.
“Xiao Jin!”
“Sister Long!”
Feng Yilian and Chen Mo gasped in terror as they crested the horizon.
Too late! Despite pushing themselves beyond their limits, they couldn’t bridge the distance. They could only watch helplessly as she arc’d toward the darkness.
SWOOSH!
A gust of wind cut through the sky behind them—fast as lightning, sharp as thunder, splitting the heavy cloud cover in two. Chen Mo nearly lost his balance from the violent air current.
Before they could even register what had passed them, a formidable shadow appeared right before the rift, extending an arm toward Jing Pei as her lower body began slipping into the dark abyss.
Jing Pei, who had remained composed through every crisis, widened her eyes in shock. Looking up through the bitter chill, she saw the familiar short-cropped hair, the handsome face and the amber eyes of an apex predator.
It was her dream man.
His hand reached out with all his strength, desperate to pull her back from the dark void. Jing Pei tried to raise her hand and take his, but the movement tore at her wounded shoulders. A sharp burst of pain clouded her vision as fresh blood spurted from the wounds.
Qiu Fa’s eyes changed the instant he took in her condition. His black pupils narrowed into dangerous, vertical slits.
Qiu Fa!
Jiang Qing’s face went pale inside the conference room. Amid the terrified gasps of the organization executives, he bolted from his seat and rushed down the hall into a lab, shoving aside an operator to take control of the main console.
After the previous incident where Jing Pei had managed to obtain the shutdown code, the organization had upgraded their technology.
Their breakthroughs in spatial engineering had advanced rapidly. While opening a rift still required manual activation on-site, closing one could now be managed remotely via the central mainframe. Shutting down the signal would cause the rift to snap shut within moments.
Under normal circumstances, a simple lift of Jing Pei’s hand would have allowed Qiu Fa to snatch her back. But her mangled shoulders refused to yield. Her fingers fell inches short, leaving Qiu Fa’s hand to grasp at empty, freezing air and a single drop of blood that froze mid-fall.
Her body sank completely into the dense, suffocating darkness behind her, vanishing from sight.
Qiu Fa’s eyes burned with raw emotion as gravity dragged him back toward the rooftop. Landing heavily on the frost-covered concrete, he stared at the pitch-black tear where she had vanished, feeling the icy air sear his palm. His breath hitched in his throat.
Wu Qiang and his companion hadn’t recognized the intruder in the dim twilight, but sensing an opportunity, they lunged at his back.
The towering, terrifying figure turned around slowly. Eyes like a starvished beast locked onto them, filled with lethal fury.
“You… pathetic… worms!”
Their blood ran cold.
Wu Qiang’s companion recovered his senses a split second faster, kicking Wu Qiang forward toward Qiu Fa before turning to flee at top speed. Yet before Wu Qiang could even scream, he collapsed onto the concrete, lifeless.
The fleeing companion felt a sudden, icy grip clamp around his neck from behind. He was dragged backward violently as his vertebrae snapped with a sickening crunch.
He hadn’t even managed to take three steps off the rooftop.
Turning one’s back on an enraged predator was the ultimate fatal mistake.
Feng Yilian and Chen Mo finally landed on the roof. Chen Mo hovered near the rift for a second before the leaking cold air threatened to freeze his wings solid. He dropped to the roof, unable to comprehend how low the temperature inside that void must be.
Feng Yilian summoned his Phoenix Flame to ward off the chill as he inspected the tear. But when he extended a foot near the edge, his muscles instantly stiffened from the frostbite.
Even with the Phoenix Flame, no one could survive in that environment for long.
Just then, he noticed the edges of the rift beginning to shrink and mend at a visible pace.
“Director Qiu!” Feng Yilian called out. “The rift is closing!”
Qiu Fa tossed aside the two lifeless bodies, strode into the building, and smashed the three membrane-breaking machines into scraps of metal with three heavy blows. The shrinking process instantly slowed.
According to research from Hualan’s top scientists, spatial walls possessed natural self-repair capabilities. Unless a tear exceeded half the dimension’s total volume, it would gradually close on its own. If it exceeded half, the entire space would collapse into a singularity.
The organization’s machines accelerated this natural repair process by emitting specific energy frequencies. With the machines destroyed, the closure rate dropped back to its natural speed.
After wrecking the equipment, Qiu Fa turned back toward the roof.
Feng Yilian realized his intention immediately and stepped into his path. “Director Qiu, you can’t go in there! That’s an entirely different world! You won’t even know where she landed—it’s like searching for a needle in an ocean! And if that rift seals shut while you’re inside, you will never be able to return!”
The organization wouldn’t open the rift a second time to let him out. Furthermore, in an extreme environment capable of wiping out all life, how long could even someone of Qiu Fa’s strength endure? It would become a tomb for both of them, and no one would ever recover their remains.
“The future of this world needs you!” Feng Yilian urged.
Qiu Fa met his gaze, his voice low and absolute. “Move.”
Feng Yilian froze, catching the quiet, unyielding resolution in Qiu Fa’s amber eyes. Without another word, he stepped aside.
My future needs her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Qiu Fa leaped straight into the freezing void.
Feng Yilian and Chen Mo stood on the rooftop, watching the dark tear. They knew with absolute clarity that entering meant instant death—the extreme cold was an enemy they couldn’t fight. They could only stand by, watching in silent powerlessness.
“I’m weak,” Feng Yilian whispered, lowering his gaze. “I don’t even have the right to compete.”
“What?” Chen Mo blinked, confused.
Feng Yilian offered no explanation. He picked up the Cage of Shrinking Earth from the ground, shoved the two unconscious traitors inside, and sealed it.
He had told Qiu Fa that the world needed him, but Qiu Fa’s eyes had answered loud and clear.
Inside the organization’s headquarters, the conference room fell into dead silence.
“Qiu… Qiu Fa went in?” an executive stammered, staring at the screen in disbelief.
A strange mixture of joy and apprehension filled the room.
“Qiu Fa jumping in means he’ll likely freeze to death… but what about the Dragon Pearl?”
“Yeah! How do we get the Dragon Pearl now? We were planning to use the headquarters’ machine to reopen the Ice Age Realm later to retrieve Long Jin’s body while she still had a breath left… but now?”
Who would dare reopen that portal now? What if Qiu Fa came bursting out?
Mr. Fei scowled, visibly agitated by the unexpected turn of events. He turned to Jiang Qing. “Young Heir, how do you suggest we proceed?”
Qiu Fa was their greatest threat, and seeing him gone was a massive relief. But obtaining Jing Pei had been their primary objective. To lose both the target and the potential asset felt like a hollow victory.
Jiang Qing maintained a cold, composed front despite his internal turmoil. “What’s the rush? Even if she dies, the Dragon Pearl won’t vanish. Once the rift seals completely, we can send a retrieval team in a few days to collect her corpse.”
He knew what the Ice Age Realm was like. The moment Jing Pei dropped in, she would sink deep into snowdrifts at least ten meters thick. Loose snow would instantly fill the entry point, burying her like a needle in the ocean. Weakened and bleeding, she had no way to protect herself.
In that sub-zero wasteland, human senses failed within seconds. In a whiteout where visibility was practically zero, Qiu Fa had no chance of finding her before the rift closed.
The tear was small and would seal completely within an hour. Qiu Fa would either have to abandon her and come back, or freeze to death beside her.
If she didn’t actually possess a Dragon Pearl, Qiu Fa’s death was more than enough compensation. The executives couldn’t blame him for the outcome.
Mr. Fei suppressed his frustration. If Qiu Fa failed to return before the portal sealed, the operation could still be considered a partial success.
Everyone turned their attention back to the main monitor, which now displayed the feed from the abandoned school’s courtyard.
The clock on the wall ticked away. The room grew tense as they waited for the final hour to run out.
In the Nevergone District…
Chu Xusheng sprinted through the streets, having fully reverted to his human form. The district had undergone a complete transformation—modern apartments and small townhouses stood side by side, bright streetlights illuminated every corner, and clean paved roads wound through the neighborhood.
Fortunately, dawn hadn’t broken yet, and the residents were still asleep. Otherwise, his blood-soaked appearance would have caused panic.
His skin was deathly pale, stained with bright crimson. Sneaking into the Mayor’s residence, he leaped onto the balcony of the Mayor’s daughter’s bedroom. Through the sheer white curtains, he tapped on the glass, startling Min Yue—who was wearing pajamas with messy, bedhead hair—so badly she nearly jumped out of her skin.
“I thought I saw a ghost!” Min Yue whispered, lowering her baseball bat as she unlocked the sliding door. “Get in here!”
Once inside, Chu Xusheng picked up the landline phone on her nightstand to dial a number. Min Yue hurriedly asked what had happened, and he gave a brief, urgent summary while she rushed over to her closet to search for something.
Chu Xusheng’s first call was to Feng Yilian. Though his mind had been foggy from entering his Atavist state earlier, he faintly recalled seeing a phoenix in the sky. As his mind cleared during his run, he realized Feng Yilian’s group must have rushed to rescue Jing Pei, which was why he had pushed straight to the Nevergone District without stopping to find a working phone.
He needed to know his master’s condition.
When Feng Yilian answered the call, he didn’t sound surprised. Standing in the chilly air leaking from the fading portal, he watched the tear shrink to half its original size.
“The situation… isn’t good,” Feng Yilian replied softly.
Just then, several figures landed on the rooftop. Mei Yanlan and Wen Yuxian arrived in their Tribunal Division uniforms, followed closely by Tang Qiaoqiao and the others.
They took in the bizarre, freezing temperature that set this rooftop apart from the rest of the city.
Tang Qiaoqiao, her twin tails messy and her clothes torn from battle, rubbed her arms as she stared at the rift. “What’s going on? Where’s Xiao Jin?”
“Inside. Director Qiu is in there too.”
Mei Yanlan leaped upward, attempting to breach the rift, but the searing cold forced her back to the roof instantly. Experienced fighters possessed sharp instincts regarding environmental hazards, and she knew at once that this wasn’t a terrain she could force her way through.
“We need heavy thermal gear to go in. But there’s no time,” Mei Yanlan muttered, her brow furrowed. The problem was that as Atavists, even during the coldest winter days, a light coat was usually more than enough. They had never needed heavy down jackets, let alone specialized thermal suits. Layering their thin jackets onto one person wouldn’t offer enough protection.
By the time someone fetched proper gear, the rift would already be sealed.
Wen Yuxian’s face was filled with worry. As the person with the lowest Atavist purity in the group, he was practically useless in this situation. Feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket, he knew without looking that Zhang Simiao was asking about Jing Pei.
He couldn’t bring himself to send a tragic update. He could only stare at the shrinking tear in midair, praying that Qiu Fa would burst out with Jing Pei in his arms any second.
Less than twenty minutes remained before the rift sealed completely.
Meanwhile, another group watched the rift with equal tension—the Atavist family members who had managed to escape the scene without being caught.
Thanks to the mercenaries drawing attention away, these locals had navigated the terrain easily. Wrapped in cloaks and masks, a few had discarded their disguises and joined the rescue teams, pretending to be concerned allies.
Now, two of them blended into the crowd, relaying updates to their accomplices via text.
“Qiu Fa and Long Jin both went in. That world is unimaginably cold—even Mei Yanlan didn’t dare step inside. With Long Jin’s injuries, she’s dead for sure!”
“Unless Qiu Fa brings her out.”
“Let’s hope not! Otherwise, we’re finished!”
Greed had blinded them earlier, driving them to attack Jing Pei in hopes of claiming the Dragon Pearl. But now that the crowd had scattered—some captured, some killed, some fleeing—and with Qiu Fa involved, fear had finally set in.
If Jing Pei survived, her status as the Information Broker meant she would instantly know who had participated. If she returned alive, none of them would walk away.
She had to die. Only her death guaranteed their safety.
Yet deep down, a sense of dread lingered. They hated and feared Qiu Fa precisely because he represented an insurmountable wall of power. They couldn’t shake the feeling that the unstoppable war god would somehow pull her back from the brink.
Ten minutes left until closure…
Six minutes left…
Three minutes left…
One minute.
The spatial rift snapped shut, sealing completely.
Neither Qiu Fa nor Jing Pei had emerged.
A heavy silence fell over the rooftop. Everyone stared at the empty air in stunned disbelief, feeling as if they had fallen into a bad dream.
Even inside the organization’s headquarters, dead silence reigned. No one had expected the rift to seal so smoothly without a single hitch.
“It… succeeded?” an executive asked, staring at his colleague in shock.
The colleague nodded slowly.
After a brief pause, a wave of ecstatic cheers erupted in the conference room.
Jiang Qing, however, remained seated in silence.
Unlike the organization’s celebration, the rooftop of the abandoned school was consumed by a suffocating, unbearable grief. A few of the younger Atavists had already broken down in tears.
Madam President had stayed up all night awaiting news. Listening to her secretary’s report, she closed her eyes slowly.
“Ma’am!” Her secretary hurried over in concern.
“I’m fine,” the President said quietly, allowing her secretary to help her to a chair.
The secretary poured a glass of warm water, her lowered gaze hiding the complex emotions in her eyes.
News of Jing Pei and Qiu Fa’s deaths swept through Yunjin Prefecture like a wild storm, spreading across the entire nation within hours—fueled in part by the organization’s deliberate media push.
“Spread the news while the iron is hot. Without Qiu Fa, Hualan’s defense takes a massive hit. Without Long Jin, Hualan loses the leader of its rising generation. They have no present and no future—it will spark immense panic and chaos!” Mr. Fei had ordered.
The organization needed chaos to distract the government, ensuring no one had the resources or manpower to interfere with their grand plan for the Great Convergence.
Jing Pei and Qiu Fa were officially trapped in a dead world where no life could survive. They hadn’t fallen off a cliff or gone missing at sea—they were in an entirely different dimension, with no way back.
Yet Jiang Qing’s brow remained tightly knit as he watched the celebration around him. Why did his heart feel so uneasy? Was it because everything had gone too smoothly? Because two major threats had been eliminated without a single unexpected twist, making it feel surreal?
“Jiang Qing… how do you know that everything you’ve set up isn’t just another piece in my plan?”
Her gentle, strangely pitying voice echoed in his mind.
At the time, he thought she was bluffing, trying to get under his skin. But what if she was telling the truth? What if she had a plan after all? What could it be? What was she trying to achieve by dying? What could a dead person do? What was the point?
Jiang Qing couldn’t find an answer. Half of him believed she was just playing mind games, while the other half spun into a frantic storm of overthinking.
#LongJinDead #QiuFaDead
The two hashtags hung at the top of the trending lists. Citizens waking up and checking their phones rubbed their eyes in disbelief.
Wait… am I dreaming?
Holy shit… it’s not a dream!
Drowsiness vanished instantly across the nation.
In the Nevergone District…
Chu Xusheng looked down at his phone. A message from Feng Yilian read: The rift has sealed. Long Jin and Qiu Fa did not return.
His pale face showed no expression, but his dreamy eyes lost every trace of light.
Beside him, Min Yue held the dagger she had pulled from her closet. Seeing the news of Jing Pei’s death, panic surged through her, and she drew the blade without hesitation, aiming it straight at her own throat.
Hearing the metallic sound, Chu Xusheng turned. Watching her raise the dagger to reset the timeline, his body moved before his thoughts could catch up.
“Go to the Nevergone District and find Min Yue. Protect her. Do not let her suffer a single injury before the final moment. Do you hear me? Absolutely… do not… let her… get hurt.”
His master’s repeated, heavily emphasized words echoed in his mind.
He reached out instantly, grabbing the sharp blade with his bare hand, stopping the dagger inches from her skin.
“What are you doing?!” Min Yue gasped.
“No. Wait,” Chu Xusheng said quietly. Do not let her suffer a single injury… does that injury include harm she inflicts on herself?
“She said it’s not the final moment yet,” he said, looking at Min Yue to confirm his theory. “Do you know when the final moment is?”
There were many things he didn’t understand—such as Min Yue’s exact ability or why she was so crucial—but he had his suspicions.
Min Yue froze, slowly lowering the dagger.
A sharp, calculating light flickered in her eyes. Looking up at Chu Xusheng, she asked, “What exact time were you ambushed last night?”
“Right after the banquet ended.”
“What time did the banquet end? Give me the exact minute.”
“Nine-thirty PM,” Chu Xusheng replied with absolute certainty. He had been waiting outside, checking his watch constantly, ready to burst in if anything went wrong. He remembered the exact minute she stepped out.
“Nine-thirty PM…” Min Yue paced back and forth across the room, her brow furrowed. “Nine-thirty… Okay. I know. I understand now.”
She murmured softly, as if answering an invisible Jing Pei.
