Strange Omens in the Mortal Realm

Inside the gilded private box of the Eternal Joy Palace in Yan Capital, a moment of silence gave way to the middle-aged man's deep voice. "Are you certain there is a sign of life deep in the earth?"

"I am certain. I was there myself and observed it—there is absolutely no mistake."

Bang!

At that moment, a tremendous roar erupted from deep within the ruins, followed by a flash of blood light that soared upward like a colossal blade, thrusting out of the ground into the sky.

The blood light blazed intensely, a beam hundreds of meters long that pierced the clouds, driving away the swirling dust and sand all around it.

Several screams rang out from below as the men seemed to be in a state of terror.

"It's terrible! Everyone caught in the blood light turned to dust—vanished into the mist of blood!"

"This is a haunt of devils. We can dig no further…"

Plainly the men below were utterly horrified, their own eyes having witnessed several companions dissolve into bloody mist—nothing could be more shocking.

Above the ruins, Director Wu's face was ashen. He clenched his fists tightly.

"Director Wu… are you all right?" A young man steadied him at his side.

"It's over. This has completely slipped beyond our control. A natural disaster. Notify the proper authorities at once. We can't be involved in this any longer." As he spoke, he seemed drained, a mix of reluctance, unwillingness, and lingering dread.

"But Director Wu—"

"Enough. Do as I say." Director Wu waved his hand.

"Very well."

The young man turned and dialed a few numbers, then his eyes glittering, he stepped aside and placed a secret call. "Mr. Johnson, I know you've always been dedicated to the study of ancient esoterica. I have a piece of information to sell you. The consortium behind this has immense financial backing…"

Bang!

The ruins shook again, and more terrified shouts came from below.

"We've detected what's emitting the blood light! It's terrifying—this place is a hell of devils!"

"What has happened?" Director Wu asked, his curiosity now overriding his earlier caution.

"Down there… layer upon layer of skeletons… and the object emitting the blood light, the one with a pulse of life… it's a clump of rotting flesh, standing out starkly among the bones!"

The men underground seemed utterly frightened, their speech broken and stammering.

"Heavens! It's beautiful!"

Another cry of astonishment came from below.

"What have you found now?"

"A peerless treasure!"

The men below gasped in wonder and temporarily forgot their fear. "We've detected a spirit tree, blazing with nine-colored divine light. A fine mist swirls around it, but it cannot hide the nine-colored rainbows shooting from its nine leaves. So intoxicating!"

"A spirit tree? Among the bones?" Director Wu's eyes shone as he pressed.

"No. It is rooted at a distance, beside an underground river. It is utterly transcendent, unsullied by the world. Am I dreaming? A sacred relic must have fallen from heaven into this hell."

Director Wu and the young man wanted to send people to dig it up at once, but they could not approach that area—the nine-colored divine radiance repelled all tools.

Had Xiao Chen been here, he would have recognized it as the former Seven-Colored Sacred Tree. But now it had nine leaves, and had grown from palm-sized to over a foot tall.

In those days, after returning the sacred tree to Keke, Xiao Chen no longer held it. He could never have imagined it would reappear here, in this world.

Soon, the sky above the ruins rumbled as large aircraft landed one after another.

Personnel from seven national research institutes—paleontology, ancient esoterica, natural sciences, and others—arrived under heavy military guard. The site was quickly sealed off.

But the news could not be fully contained. Foreign consortiums were already plotting to claim a share.

Of course, ordinary citizens would never learn of any of this.

Where was Xiao Chen?

In a small town called Dongying, in Shandong Province, a newly drilled oil well had encountered a problem. A crowd had gathered.

"What's going on?"

"Strange. The drill pipe and bit shattered."

"We've broken drill pipes before, but this one is eerie. Look at the fragments of the bit we pulled up—there are strands of long hair caught on it! How is that possible?"

Several workers pointed at the broken bit.

"You're not telling me these strands of hair came from several thousand meters down, are you?" A man in a hard hat, presumably the supervisor, glared at the workers and technicians. "Don't give me such preposterous excuses. I'm starting to wonder if your brains are working properly."

"Director Zhang, it's true!" a technician beside him testified.

"Yes, what Chief Li says is right. We saw it with our own eyes," several other workers chimed in.

"Ridiculous!" Director Zhang glared angrily at the men on site.

"Director Zhang, behind you!" a worker suddenly cried.

"What about behind me? Look at yourselves—the drilling has problems precisely because you're so rash and careless!" Director Zhang was thoroughly displeased.

The people around him looked as if they had seen something unbelievable, all backing away. The engineer called Chief Li shouted in shock, "Director Zhang, behind you—the wellhead is filled with heads…"

Director Zhang whirled around furiously and saw, turning pale as death. He scrambled forward, tumbling several times before stopping far enough away to turn back with the others, trembling like a leaf. "Wh-what I saw just now… was it real?"

They were now about fifty meters from the wellhead, and the crowd stared back in fearful uncertainty.

"It-it-it's real!" someone stammered. "L-lo-look at the well!"

At the mouth of the oil well, locks of long hair were emerging, followed by a grimy, disheveled head.

A chill ran down everyone's spine.

Director Zhang mustered his courage and shouted at the workers, "What nonsense is this? Who sent a man down the well?"

"No, no, no! Who would dare, Director Zhang? Look for yourself!"

At that moment, everyone's face turned ashen, and they fled even farther.

From the wellhead, a strange figure was climbing up slowly, covered in matted hair, wearing bizarre ancient robes. His eyes were like twin bolts of lightning, so piercing that they nearly knocked the crowd senseless.

Director Zhang ran with the others, stopping only after a great distance. His heart thudded as he forced himself to call out, "You… you there! Who are you? How did you… get under our drill rig? Why… did you climb into the well?"

His voice shook as he stammered.

"I was sleeping. Did you disturb my rest?" The disheveled young man's face was mostly hidden by tangled hair, and his voice was cold. Coupled with his tattered, bizarre ancient robes, even in the noonday sun, it made everyone's spine run cold.

"You… you… what nonsense are you talking?" Director Zhang was both frightened and bewildered. "You… how could you possibly be underground? How could you be sleeping beneath our well? Who… who are you?"

The disheveled young man was eerily calm, his voice steady but biting. "I was sleeping two thousand five hundred meters below, and you used an iron drill to bore into my skull, disturbing my rest."

"You… you… this is absurd!" Director Zhang was furious, convinced this was a prank by some bold troublemaker. "The drill bit was two and a half kilometers down, and it woke you? What a story! And you think your skull is diamond? That our drill would break on your head? Ridiculous! We're calling the police and throwing this troublemaker in jail…"

"Have you finished?" The disheveled young man looked calmly at the crowd. "You disturbed my sleep, and now you act as if you're the wronged party. It was you who drilled into my skull."

"This is outrageous! Where did you come from, spewing such nonsense? Who are you to sabotage our well?"

The disheveled stranger pondered for a moment. "In a sense, I am your ancestor."

"What the—" Everyone was dumbfounded. This freak had the audacity to claim that!

Even Director Zhang cursed under his breath. "What the hell? Who is this guy? To fool us like this… Call the police, and check if there's a TV crew nearby filming a prank. If I find out some station came here for a stunt, I'll drive them bankrupt! The media these days will do anything for a show, daring to trespass on our oil tiger's turf. I won't let this slide!"

"Exactly! Even if oil prices keep rising, they can't mess with us like this! We should recommend another price hike to headquarters!" Others, now convinced it was a hoax, chimed in.

At that moment, the disheveled young man said nothing further. Instead, he picked up the broken drill bit and scraped it across his own skull.

Crack!

The bit shattered on the spot, the pieces falling to the ground with a piercing sound.

As the crowd stared in shock, the young man casually lifted several lengths of drill pipe—each weighing tons—and struck them against his body.

The result sent half their souls flying: every single pipe snapped, crashing to the ground with dull thuds!

"Oh my god!"

"A ghost!"

"It's the corpse demon from the deep earth!"

The crowd, faces white, tried to flee, but their legs gave way, trembling beneath them. Nearly all collapsed where they stood.

And then, to their utter horror, the disheveled young man drifted forward without touching the ground, as light as a feather, floating like a wraith until he stood before them.

"Don't be afraid. I'm not a ghost. In a sense, I truly am your ancestor."

The disheveled young man hovered close and crouched down, his long hair veiling most of his face as he gazed at them.

Several men promptly rolled their eyes and fainted from sheer terror.