Dragon Raja: Lu Mingfei finds a Freylian

That aligns with our thinking! Although the wording is different, the core principle is the same!

Just as Lu Mingfei was about to ask another question, the train's arrival announcement came on. Zhu Mumu glanced at the compass and hurriedly said, "The energy at this station is unusual. I need to investigate carefully. I'll go ahead first."

After saying that, he pulled his junior sister and hurriedly got out of the car.

The group continued to split up and work separately.

By the end of the day, the four of them were practically exhausted from running around. Lu Mingfei's transportation card was almost maxed out, but the card remained unchanged, still with that ordinary plastic texture.

In the evening, the four met up in a rest area at a transfer station, all of them looking exhausted.

"It's not working, there's absolutely no response." Lu Mingfei slumped in his chair, tossing the unchanging transit card onto the table. "Did we misunderstand? Or is that legend just a hoax?"

Chu Zihang took out his phone and showed photos of various anomalies he had taken. “There are many suspicious points in the physical structure, especially in the stations on the loop line. The structure may not match the design drawings. But it cannot be determined by the naked eye alone.”

Fingel yawned. "There are too many messy rumors in the database. Some say they heard crying from underground, others say they saw the shadows of ancient soldiers. But none of them have any concrete evidence. Oh right, I did dig up something interesting. When the Beijing subway was being built in its early days, they hired quite a few 'feng shui consultants.' Some of their suggestions seem very strange now, such as burying talismans at specific stations."

Frillie had been silent until she suddenly spoke: "Perhaps we've overlooked time."

"Time?" Lu Mingfei asked, looking at her.

“There’s a time limit within a day. But are there any rules about the start and end of a day?” Frilian analyzed. “Is it any 24 hours? Or must it start at a specific time and end at another specific time? Like midnight? Or is it related to the time of the last train?”

Everyone was taken aback.

This is indeed a blind spot! Both the legend and Wan Boqian's notes only emphasize the period within one day, but do not specify the starting point.

Just then, Lu Mingfei's phone vibrated. It was a text message from an unknown number, containing only one sentence:

"Starting at midnight and ending at dawn, the procession and inspection of the day's movements can only be completed during times of intense Yang energy. — Zhu Mumu"

Lu Mingfei looked up. "It was that Taoist priest! He told us! It has to start at midnight and end at dawn the next day! It must be done at night!"

All the clues connected instantly.

The reason why Wan Boqian, Gao Mi, and even Zhao Menghua might have succeeded is because they likely started the ritual around the time the subway stopped running late at night.

Nighttime is when the Nibelungian forces are most active and the entrance is most likely to appear!

Chu Zihang immediately stood up. "Adjust the plan. Meet at Xizhimen Station at 11 PM tonight. Repeat the ceremony."

As midnight approached and the last train departed, most of the station lights went out, leaving only a few emergency lights. The long corridors and empty platforms were a stark contrast to the bustling daytime scene.

Xizhimen subway station, this huge transportation hub, now resembles a sleeping steel behemoth.

Lu Mingfei, Chu Zihang, Frilian, and Fingel met up with the Taoist Zhu Mumu and his junior sister Lingdang, whom they had met during the day, at a relatively hidden entrance to the equipment passage.

The atmosphere was somewhat heavy; they were about to attempt an extremely dangerous and unknown ritual.

Perhaps to ease the tension, or perhaps because Fingel's excessive curiosity was simply too much to bear, he leaned closer to Zhu Mumu and asked in a low voice, "Hey, Daoist Master, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a long time. How exactly do you cultivate immortality? Aren't you all, well, hybrids? Is there really some different kind of cultivation method?"

Lu Mingfei and Chu Zihang also subconsciously perked up their ears. This was indeed a blind spot in their knowledge outside the Kassel College education system.

In their understanding, the power of hybrids mainly comes from their bloodline, which is enhanced through the exploration of dragon genes and the power of words, physical training, and alchemical equipment.

The term "cultivating immortality" is too Eastern and too metaphysical.

Upon hearing this, Zhu Mumu paused slightly, stroked his beard, and chuckled, revealing his otherworldly and refined demeanor. "May the Heavenly Venerable grant you boundless blessings. What my fellow Daoists say is true. We are indeed different from ordinary people, bearing the blood of the Finger Dragon, a gift from Heaven. However, the paths of East and West are indeed different."

His voice was calm as he spoke slowly and deliberately: "I have heard a little about the ways of the Western barbarians. They seem to place more emphasis on outward manifestation of power, excavating the power of the bloodline's origin, borrowing the power of words and alchemical materials, in order to seek the ultimate strength and control. It is like a craftsman forging a divine weapon, revealing its full sharpness."

"Our Central Plains Xuanmen, passed down since ancient times, places even greater emphasis on the harmony between mind and nature and the universe," Zhu Mumu continued. "Our cultivation is not simply about pursuing the strength of bloodline power, but about regarding the dragon blood in our bodies as a point of innate Qi, guiding it, refining essence into Qi, refining Qi into spirit, and refining spirit into emptiness."

"One must comprehend the way of the universe, harmonize yin and yang, and preserve one's spirit within. In stillness and tranquility, one can capture the mysterious opportunities, using one's own qi to unite with the qi of the universe, proceeding step by step, nourishing things silently. A strong physique and longevity are merely superficial; what is truly needed is a clear mind and spirit, to glimpse the ultimate principles of the universe, and even the faint chance of ascending to immortality."

He paused, then gave an example: "For instance, when dealing with an unstable bloodline within the body, Westerners either suppress it with a stronger will or use external objects to balance it. We, on the other hand, tend to guide it back to its essence, regard it as part of ourselves, understand it, guide it, and make it coexist harmoniously with our own soul, turning it into our own use, rather than simply fighting against it."

Lu Mingfei listened with a sense of understanding but not quite, feeling that it was somewhat like a philosophy class, yet somehow it also made sense.

Fingel scratched his head. "It sounds like it's going to be slow and complicated?"

“Indeed,” Zhu Mumu nodded. “The orthodox path of the Xuanmen emphasizes the natural progression of things and avoids being impatient for quick success. Therefore, those with profound cultivation often have a restrained and harmonious aura, rather than an aggressive one. However, the mysteries within this are beyond words to fully describe.”

He glanced at Chu Zihang, "This fellow Daoist's aura is incomparably sharp, like a drawn sword; he should be one of the best in Western Daoism. And this one..."

He then looked at Lu Mingfei, a hint of doubt flashing in his eyes, "Fellow Daoist's aura is quite peculiar, hidden and unpredictable, somewhat reminiscent of my Xuanmen's 'heavy sword has no edge, great skill is without artifice'."

Lu Mingfei: "......"

Taoist priest, you can see that?

On the other side, the little girl with the bell approached Frilian, blinking her big eyes curiously. "Sister Frilian, are all the mixed-race people outside the East like you? You're so beautiful, like an elf in a painting! And you seem so amazing. During the day in the car, my senior brother said he couldn't see through you."

Frillie looked down at the lively young Taoist priest and shook her head slightly. "That's not the case. Every individual is different."

"So how did you all become stronger?" Lingdang pressed. "Was it like what Senior Brother said, meditating and practicing Qi every day? Or was there some kind of special magic? Like in the stories?"

“Mainly through learning and practice,” Frilian thought for a moment and explained in a way that the bell could understand, “learning to control one’s own magic, understanding the rules of the world, and accumulating knowledge and experience to deal with different situations. Time is also a very important factor.”

"Oh! I get it! It's about learning until you're old, plus leveling up by fighting monsters, right?" Bell suddenly realized and excitedly summarized.

Frillie paused for a moment, then nodded slightly: "That's one way to understand it."

This analogy is surprisingly apt.

"Sister Frilian, you must have killed a lot of monsters, right?" Bell asked with admiration.

Frilian gazed at the deep tunnel in the distance, the shadows of a thousand years flashing across her emerald green eyes, and she answered softly, "Yes, many."

The midnight bell tolled silently.

Zhu Mumu's expression turned serious. He took out a compass, and saw that the pointer on it was no longer spinning randomly, but was trembling slightly, pointing in a specific direction.

"The time is approaching, and the energy has been drawn," he said in a low voice. "Fellow Daoists, prepare for your 'rallying and roll call.' Remember, stay close to me and remain focused."

Everyone composed themselves, and Lu Mingfei gripped the transportation card tightly.

Chapter 158 is here.

At midnight, deep inside the passageway of Xizhimen subway station.

The compass needle in Zhu Mumu's hand stopped trembling and pointed straight to an ordinary-looking cement wall covered with faded propaganda posters.

The tips of the pointers even emitted a faint, warm white light that was barely perceptible to the naked eye.

"This is it!" Zhu Mumu shouted, making a hand seal with one hand and chanting incantations, while pointing his other hand at the wall with fingers like a sword.

There was no earth-shattering noise; the wall rippled outwards like water with a pebble thrown in, creating circles of transparent waves.

The interior scene began to distort and change; the original cement walls seemed to dissolve and fade away, revealing a downward staircase entrance that exuded an old and worn atmosphere.

A cold wind, carrying the smells of rust, dust, and decay, poured out from the entrance.

"Let's go!" Chu Zihang said without hesitation, stepping in first.

Fingel muttered, "Hopefully there's something good in there," and followed suit.

Lu Mingfei took a deep breath, exchanged a glance with Frilian, and stepped inside.

Zhu Mumu and Junior Sister Lingdang covered their retreat.

After the last person entered, the ripples behind him instantly subsided, and the walls returned to their original state, as if nothing had happened.

The stairs were long and spiraled downwards, dimly lit, with only a few low-wattage incandescent bulbs spaced far apart on the walls, casting a dim yellow light that barely illuminated the rusty steps beneath our feet.

After walking for about two or three minutes, the view suddenly opened up before us.

They were standing on a subway platform.

But the scene before them made everyone feel as if they were in a time warp.

The overall layout of the platform is similar to that of modern subway stations, but the details reveal a unique style belonging to the end of the last century.

The walls are covered with old-fashioned white tiles with blurry diamond or wave patterns, many of which have yellowed, cracked, or even peeled off in large pieces, revealing the gray cement underneath.

The support columns are covered in light green or beige terrazzo, which is badly worn.

The overhead lighting consisted of long, dusty fluorescent tubes that cast a dim, yellowish light that made people's shadows appear to be of varying lengths.

Inside the old, tin-roofed advertising light boxes, most of the fluorescent lights have been turned off, with only a few remaining illuminating the faded posters.

A man wearing a padded-shoulder suit and with his hair slicked back held up a bottle of laundry detergent that read "Vitality 28, Shashi Daily Chemicals".

A woman wearing brightly colored leggings and fingerless gloves is doing aerobics, with a sign next to her that reads "The feeling of the space age - Chiant!"

There are also slogans like "Wan Jiale, Happy Wan Jia" and "When the sun rises, our love will last forever - Sun God Oral Liquid".

These advertising slogans and images, full of nostalgia, are like frozen slices of time.

The signs are made of thick sheet metal with a painted finish, white background with blue or red lettering in old Song or Hei typeface. The words "This stop: Xizhimen", "Next stop: Jishuitan", "Exit" and "No smoking" are still faintly discernible.

The benches were the heavy kind, painted with dark green wood, many of them rotten and cracked.

The ground was covered with small, dark red tiles, thick with dust, and felt soft and spongy underfoot.

The entire platform was completely silent, not because there was no one there, but because it was a deathly silence where all sound had been absorbed.

There was no train in sight, nor any sound coming from the tracks.

"Holy crap, this... this is time travel?" Fingel's eyes widened as he looked around curiously. He reached out and touched an abandoned coin-operated public telephone next to him; its yellow plastic casing had become brittle and hard. "I've only ever seen this kind of thing in old movies!"

Lu Mingfei also felt uneasy, as if every step he took was stepping on the dust of history.

He bent down and picked up half a trampled newspaper from under the dusty bench.

The newspaper paper was rough and yellowed, and the date on it was clearly visible—Beijing Evening News, July 15, 1992!

The front page headline reported on the convening of an important meeting, while the adjacent advertising board featured an advertisement for a learning machine that proclaimed "Little Tyrant: Endless Fun!"

"1992." Lu Mingfei couldn't believe his eyes. "Has time stopped in the Nibelungen? Or rather, has it frozen at a specific point in time?"

Chu Zihang observed the environment and said, "Not only time, but space is also disordered. The spatial structure here is very strange, and the frame of reference is unstable."

He tried to sense his direction, but found that his sense of direction was being interfered with here, and the passage in the distance would be slightly distorted at the edge of his vision.

Frillie crouched down, gently running her fingers across the thick layer of dust on the ground, then touching the cold, rusty wall.

"It is not entirely real matter, but rather a highly stable illusory realm constructed from underground matter, based on a powerful consciousness's memories and obsessions about the past. Yet it is almost indistinguishable from reality."

Zhu Mumu's expression was solemn as she ran her fingers over the peeling tiles on the wall, a faint light shimmering on her fingertips as she sensed the wall.

"Such a strong obsession and resentment. It has managed to so completely extract a lost time from the river of reality and turn it into an eternal prison. The master of this place has an extremely strong obsession with the past, or rather, resentment."

The little girl with the bell approached her senior brother somewhat fearfully and whispered, "Senior brother, this place feels so oppressive. It's gloomy and even scarier than the mass grave on the back mountain."

"Keep your mind focused and do not let external evils invade." Zhu Mumu protected the bell behind his back. The compass in his hand no longer pointed to a fixed direction, but trembled slightly.