I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

The three exchanged codes and agreed on a meeting place in a tree hollow near the Forgotten River Lake.

Near the tree hole, there's a rock that looks like a squatting frog; it's easy to spot.

Then, Zhang Yangqing began to modify the spatial numbers inside himself and the woman with peach blossom eyes.

He closed his eyes and placed his hands on the shoulders of the beautiful woman with almond-shaped eyes.

Gray spatial energy surged from his palm and seeped into the body of the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes.

The energy manipulated itself with a more refined and subtle way, like weaving cloth, stitch by stitch modifying the invisible numbers within the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes began to tremble, not from fear, but from pain.

It was a pain that went deep into her bones, as if someone had carved words into her soul.

She gritted her teeth, remaining silent, beads of sweat dripping from her forehead.

Zhang Yangqing's hand was very steady, and it did not shift even slightly because of her trembling.

His consciousness navigated through the string of numbers, finding the parts that needed to be modified, and then gently, slowly, and little by little, he adjusted them.

It's unclear how much time passed—perhaps the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, or perhaps half an hour—but Zhang Yangqing withdrew his hand.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes swayed slightly and almost fell, but quickly regained her balance.

She looked down at her hands, feeling the unfamiliar aura within her that didn't belong to this world, and her heart pounded.

Zhang Yangqing walked to the edge of the Forgotten River Lake, took the human head bag from the waist of the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes, untied the bag, and poured out the two heads.

The head landed in the lake and slowly sank.

Ripples spread across the water's surface, growing larger and faster until they eventually formed a massive whirlpool.

Zhang Yangqing stood up and glanced back at the strange consciousness: "Take care."

The eerie consciousness nodded without speaking.

"Let's go." Zhang Yangqing grabbed the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes and jumped into the whirlpool.

The familiar feeling returned; a bone-chilling cold instantly enveloped my entire body. It wasn't a physical cold, but a chilling and deathly stillness that penetrated straight to my soul.

The woman with peach blossom eyes felt her blood congealing, her bones freezing, and her consciousness blurring.

She instinctively gripped Zhang Yangqing's arm, like a drowning person grabbing onto the last piece of driftwood.

All around was boundless darkness and heavy pressure.

They keep sinking, endlessly.

There was no direction, no time, no sound, nothing at all.

There was only darkness, only cold, only that kind of despair that seemed to have no end.

After sinking for an unknown amount of time, just as my consciousness was about to be frozen by the endless darkness and cold, a faint, distorted, vortex-like light suddenly appeared in the endless darkness below.

The light rapidly expanded, forming a slowly rotating portal that emitted unstable spatial fluctuations.

exit.

The light gradually engulfed the two figures.

When Zhang Yangqing and the beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes awoke again and felt grounded, the scene before them had changed.

This is not an underground altar in the Netherworld, but a dilapidated temple on the outskirts of a city.

It was night. A crescent moon hung in the sky, its light faint, mostly obscured by clouds, with only a few streaks of silvery light leaking through the gaps and falling on the roof of the dilapidated temple.

It was very quiet around, with only the rustling of the wind through the dry grass and the occasional chirping of unknown insects in the distance.

It's like a relatively 'normal' world of ghost stories, at least it's relatively normal here.

Zhang Yangqing began to observe the surroundings as usual. The dilapidated temple was not large, with only one main hall and two side halls.

The main hall's door is gone, leaving only a dark door frame.

The walls were covered with vines, their leaves gleaming with a faint green light under the moonlight.

More than half of the roof tiles were missing, revealing the blackened rafters underneath.

There are no gods, Buddhas, or ancestral tablets enshrined inside the hall; there is only a carved stone bowl.

The bowl appears on the offering table in the center of the main hall.

The offering table was made of stone, its surface covered with cracks, and some parts had collapsed, but the bowl sat there steadily, without moving.

The bowl was small, about the size of an ordinary rice bowl, and completely black with no patterns or luster on its surface, resembling a piece of scorched clay.

But someone like Zhang Yangqing, an "expert," could tell at a glance that this thing was no ordinary object.

The rim of the bowl has a ring of extremely fine, almost invisible lines. These lines are not carved on, but rather emanate from the inside of the bowl, giving the impression that some kind of power is flowing within it.

There were burn marks on the bottom of the bowl, but those marks were not ordinary fire marks, but a more advanced and purer kind of marks, as if the bowl had been "refined" by some kind of law.

Could it be a template for some "god's" magical artifact? Zhang Yangqing wondered to himself.

The fact that I was able to appear here proves that the space number I created actually has a corresponding supernatural world.

I just don't know what kind of place this strange world is, what its rules are, or what dangers it holds.

Before Zhang Yangqing had even left the dilapidated temple, a sharp pain shot through his chest!
It wasn't physical pain, but a tearing of the soul, as if something was pulling his consciousness out of his body!

His head began to spin, everything in front of him became blurry, and the world spun around him.

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes rushed over anxiously, supporting Zhang Yangqing, her voice trembling: "Boss, what's wrong?"

Zhang Yangqing waved his hand, took a deep breath, and tried to steady himself.

His forehead was covered in sweat, his face was as white as paper, and his lips were purple, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness.

"The backlash has begun. My body has violated the rules of space and can't hold on for long, but I'll hold on as long as I can. If I 'disappear,' you'd better find a way to go back and make contact with the strange consciousness, or wait for me to come find you next time."

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes nodded, her worry lessening and replaced by a sense of relief, as if she understood.

She knew that Zhang Yangqing had the special ability of being "immortal and indestructible." As long as he "died" or "disappeared," Zhang Yangqing could be resurrected in different worlds and could travel between different planes.

At least, that's what Zhang Yangqing told her.

Of course, Zhang Yangqing made all of this up. He couldn't possibly say, "I am the chosen one, and I can return to my original world as long as the settlement is completed," could he?

The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes helped Zhang Yangqing sit down on the threshold of the dilapidated temple, then turned around and began to pack her things.

She carefully wrapped the holy sword and armor again, slung them over her back, put the pills and spirit stones Zhang Yangqing had given her into her storage bag, and then checked the dilapidated temple inside and out to make sure there was no danger before returning to sit down next to Zhang Yangqing.

"Boss, where is this?" The beautiful woman with peach blossom eyes looked at the outline of the city in the distance, her brows furrowing slightly.

The city's outline was blurred, resembling a sleeping giant in the night.

The silhouettes of skyscrapers and the flickering neon lights in the distance were faintly visible. (End of Chapter)