Chapter 277.2: I’m Out of the Capsule and Feeling Fine (2)

Even the severe aberration contamination that had plagued it before was now transformed into fuel under spirit matter catalysis. Scarlet flames flowed like blood, writhing as if alive as they surged outward to reveal a savage and merciless visage.

From high above, Ji Jue glanced down. The ocean churned as though boiling. Towering waves rose seemingly out of nowhere before crashing into the distance. Beneath the vast expanse of sea and sky, the island below seemed no more than a fragile leaf, trembling on the verge of collapse.

Amid the flashes of lightning, he spotted a terrifying outline in the distance, wavering like a mirage. It was a grotesque shadow so immense that the mere sight of it sent a chill down his spine.

The world that had once seemed so vast and empty suddenly felt like a cramped cage. When a small section of that colossal creature rolled up from beneath the sea, it unleashed a storm that swallowed the world whole. Only the barest fragment of it appeared for a brief moment, yet that single glimpse was enough to carve an indelible shadow into the hearts of those who witnessed it.

This was the so-called Nethersea Worm!

That single, inadvertent glimpse was like a bucket of icy water poured straight through Ji Jue’s skull, washing away every trace of satisfaction that had just started stirring within him. Compared to a force truly capable of poisoning the entire world and destroying everything in it, a mere craftsman, no different from a speck of dust, was simply far too insignificant.

So what if he was insignificant? Ji Jue didn’t care in the slightest. He closed his eyes and, amid the mounting gravitational force of the ascent, hummed to himself and spread his arms wide.

Neither the darkened heavens nor the raging storm could conceal that tiny spark of light any longer. It was like a star breaking free from the shackles of the endless night and returning to the heavens!

Boom!

When the second booster section broke away from the deforming hull, the storm clouds and lightning vanished beneath him.

He had risen above the black clouds. Light had returned to the darkened world once more. High in the distant night sky, stars twinkled, as if countless curious eyes were watching him.

Looking down from there, he could see the land changing shape. From such a lofty height, the world that had once seemed vast and flat slowly revealed its true contours.

The only sounds left were the frantic shuddering of the cabin and the crack of things breaking apart. Mercury surged through the breaches, sealing them as they appeared. Fissures spread across the furnace, releasing waves of intense heat that drove the temperature inside the core cabin to several hundred degrees.

Still, Ji Jue continued to rise higher and higher. As he cheered triumphantly, he kept climbing toward the distant heights of the heavens, breaking free of every restraint and finally embracing freedom.

Even if all of this was nothing more than an illusory dream, even if this freedom was only a fleeting glimmer within that dream, brief as it was, it had already left him utterly entranced.

Boom!

The final propulsion engine tore free from the battered cabin and plummeted toward the world below. Inside the ruptured hull, the furnace shook violently before crumbling, leaving behind only one last, tiny flame. The core cabin had completely fallen apart.

The explosion sent Ji Jue drifting helplessly upward inside his protective suit. He was flung out into the darkness, tethered only by strands of mercury that pulled him into a futile spin as scattered fragments of light glinted across his helmet.

The night sky seemed to curve around him. Countless dots of light moved through the darkness, distant and unreal. They were stars. The moon hung high like a mirror, illuminating everything before gradually sinking toward a deeper darkness. Far away, the enormous sun slowly rose, bathing the broken world in light once more.

Ji Jue could already see distant land. Throughout streaks of flowing light, everything that had once seemed shattered slowly pieced itself back together.

Above the deep blue ocean, the vast bank of storm clouds that had once seemed to blanket the heavens now looked like nothing more than an insignificant speck. At the center of the world lay the ruined and desolate Central Lands, surrounded by numerous islands scattered like stars. Dreamlike radiance shrouded the Empire to the south and the Federation to the north.

The world was square.

Vast, majestic outlines emerged from outer space, overlapping. The Supreme Benevolences stood like pillars, supporting everything and forming the foundation of all that existed. A myriad of rift realms revolved around the mortal world like satellites, occasionally flashing into view as they tore through the void.

Beneath the world, the edge of an eternally raging vortex emerged from the emptiness. It turned soundlessly, expanding and contracting, and swallowing every tiny fragment that broke away from the mortal world above.

This was the world as it truly was. Whole, yet broken. Shining with light, yet steeped in darkness. Magnificent, yet cruel.

“Beautiful.” Ji Jue reached out and, through the thick layers of his protective suit, brushed his hand against that faint glow.

The world remained silent. It never answered him.

***

Jiang Tongguang took one last look at the magnificent image within the projection and couldn’t help murmuring in admiration, “Beautifully done. From the highest heavens to the deepest underworld, the thirst for knowledge knows no bounds, and the flame of Reformation never dies. I’ve been with the Association for all these years, yet this is the first time I’ve seen anything like this.”

But the moment he turned around, his expression became grave. “Just one thing. When Delon calls in a little while to chew us out, don’t drag me in to take the blame with you.”

“Don’t worry. He won’t.” Gustav remained perfectly calm. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and switched it off.

Rendered speechless, Jiang Tongguang applauded in admiration. Nicely done! If I turn off my phone fast enough, the chairman can’t yell at me.

Now that was something worth learning. He would have to try it next time.

Still, after witnessing that spectacularly overambitious attempt at Ember spaceflight, Jiang Tongguang looked back at the many projections and ever-changing scenes within the shimmering light and couldn’t help letting out a heavy sigh.

“What is it?” Gustav asked. “Worried I’ll make you take the blame for this?”

Jiang Tongguang glanced back at him. “No. I’m just impressed. As a teacher, you really are beyond reproach.”

Gustav remained as aloof as ever, his face expressionless. “I never taught them anything.”

“You taught them what setbacks feel like, gave them room to grow, taught them reverence, and showed them the road ahead. There are plenty of teachers who can’t even manage that much, aren’t there?” Jiang Tongguang grinned teasingly. “But all these years, I’ve constantly heard people talk about how demanding you are, how strict the Lithogenesis School under your leadership is, and how anyone who isn’t a true genius isn’t even worth your attention. Looking at you now, you’re actually the one who believes in talent and natural aptitude the least, aren’t you?”

“Talent? Natural aptitude?” Gustav seemed to smile for a second. Unfortunately, the only thing that surfaced on his perpetually impassive face was a trace of mockery. “How much talent does someone need before it truly counts as talent? How exceptional must one’s natural aptitude be before one counts as gifted?

“True talent and natural aptitude are what the Ploughsmith possessed when he broke free of the old conventions and carved out an entirely new path. They are what the Scavenger possessed, with disciples and apprentices beyond counting. They are what the Divine Furnace possessed, reaching the pinnacle of the Ember Path in just ten years. Forget those apprentices. Even across the entire Association and the Depths, who would dare claim they could compare with the likes of them?”

If you could compare, then why had you accomplished nothing of the sort? And if you could not, then all that talent you took such pride in was nothing more than a bit of petty cleverness unworthy of mention. Thinking yourself clever sometimes meant nothing more than walking willingly toward your death.

Ember was cruel and had no mercy for the mediocre. How much of that saying had been born from the anguished cries of overconfident craftsmen who had lost themselves amid praise and arrogance, trapped themselves in their own conceit, and ultimately reaped what they had sown?

Rather than watch these apprentices bask smugly in the halo of being called “geniuses,” lose themselves, and eventually become unrecognizable, it was better to slap some sense into them while there was still time. At the very least, they would not have to wait several decades only to find themselves unable to accept the brutal reality and be crushed by it head-on.

“That’s how it is for ordinary people. They need constant reminders, constant setbacks, constant tempering and restraint. The only difference is the amount.” Gustav looked down at the many projections, watching one person after another fail or perish without the slightest change in expression. “A true genius can grow wings and soar through the sky. But others fail to understand that, for them, jumping off a cliff leads only to death.

“For the vast majority of people, good or bad rules are still better than no rules at all. They are crutches meant for ordinary people. As long as they can endure restraint, hard work, adversity, and pain, they can still move forward one step at a time and eventually reach places that would otherwise seem accessible only to those with wings.”

“That sounds wonderful.” After a long pause, Jiang Tongguang shrugged and sighed. “It’s rare to hear you speak so earnestly, Gus. You’re making me feel ashamed of myself. If you ever run for chairman someday, I’ll definitely vote for you.”

Gustav remained unmoved and looked over at him. Eyeing Jiang Tongguang’s cheeky grin, he asked, “What about you?”

Jiang Tongguang looked puzzled. “Me? What about me?”

“How much longer can you put up with it?” As if returning the favor, Gustav mercilessly tore through that false smile. “The way I see it, you, the most popular council member in the Association, might actually be the one most disappointed in the Association.”

Jiang Tongguang said nothing. He didn’t even wave away the allegation as casually as he usually did.

“Do whatever you want.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Then let’s just talk it over and decide together. ”

“Isn’t that fine too?”

For as long as anyone could remember, those were the only kinds of things they ever heard him say at council meetings. Or, looked at another way, those words could carry an entirely different meaning: Fuck this. I’m done caring. Do whatever the hell you want!

The person who got along with everyone often wasn’t truly close to anyone. A friend welcomed by all did not necessarily welcome everyone in return.

It wasn’t that people didn’t understand this. They had simply grown too accustomed to that easygoing smile after seeing it for so many years. So accustomed, in fact, that they had unconsciously, or perhaps deliberately, forgotten.

Before Jiang Tongguang became a council member, he had once flown into such a rage that he stormed into the Valley of the Depths three times. He hunted down his fellow disciples, juniors, nephews, and students one by one and dragged them all back and hanged them from the gate of Starpivot.

Gustav sighed softly. “To be fair, given Delon’s capabilities, it’s impressive that he’s managed to hold things together this long. His capabilities are simply limited. The fact that you’ve kept the bigger picture in mind and restrained yourself from making a move until he retires has exceeded my expectations.”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” Jiang Tongguang looked horrified, staring at his colleague in shock. “I just don’t want to take the blame for you, that’s all! Don’t go slandering me! Everyone knows that I’m the very picture of modesty and easygoing good nature, with no desire to compete with anyone. My name is Tongguang, for crying out loud. It means ‘joining the dust and harmonizing with the light[1].’ It’s ancient Federation wisdom! If you don’t understand it, don’t talk nonsense!”

Gustav looked at him for a long moment, then nodded in understanding. “Then let’s say that’s how it is.”

“That is how it is!” Jiang Tongguang nodded firmly, pulled out a flask, and took a sip to steady his nerves. “The Association is my home. I love the Association. I fucking love it so much. Don’t be so extreme, Gus. We’re all one big loving family. What problem could there possibly be that we can’t work through together?”

And just like that, silence returned to the Myriad Transformations Tower. The ‘family’ forgot the conversation they had just had and went back to work in perfect harmony.

Meanwhile, the results of the second round of eliminations were about to be announced.

1. 同尘合光 is a classic Daoist idiom originating from the Tao Te Ching by the ancient Chinese philosopher Laozi. It means softening one’s brilliance rather than flaunting one’s talent or making oneself stand out from others; blending into the ordinary world rather than holding oneself aloof, and living among others on equal terms.