Chapter 645: Return to the Tower

Author: Sanjiu Yinyu

Word Count: 1190

Guernica.

Chen Ling looked at the miniature realm in his hand, his eyes slightly narrowed.

As if he had guessed something, he looked up at the patterns on the relief gate suspended above, and understanding dawned on him. He wondered if this was the authority granted by the gate. Plum Blossom 8 had said that this gate allowed one's consciousness to descend upon every corner of the Mortal Realm. However, this authority belonged only to the Second and Third Halls. Now, Chen Ling, having obtained the foundation fragment of "Guernica," was like holding a key, naturally possessing a portion of that authority.

Chen Ling's consciousness overlooked the entire realm, and only then did he truly comprehend the vastness of the Mortal Realm. Hundreds of small towns dotted the realm like stars, connected by roads. Even though nearly half of the main city had already been reduced to ruins, with countless casualties, these towns remained quiet and peaceful, showing no signs of an impending war.

Surrounded by these densely scattered towns, the Mortal Main City resembled a colossal entity. However, this behemoth was now scarred and ravaged. Thick smoke billowed from the ruins, and apart from members of the Floating Life Painting and police officers, there were almost no pedestrians on the streets. Most people were hiding in their homes, fearing for their safety. However, Chen Ling's gaze could not penetrate walls, preventing him from seeing more specific details.

Chen Ling had always believed that the Mortal Main City was the center of the Mortal Realm, and most residents of the realm thought the same. But it was only when Chen Ling observed from this new perspective that he realized this was not the case. While the Mortal Main City's location was indeed central relative to other towns, it was slightly to the east when compared to the realm's structure resembling a flower bud. The true center of this "flower" was a seemingly unremarkable town, where the flower's stem connected, and beneath it lay the green leaf where the Mortal Base was located.

He concluded that Willow Town was indeed the heart of the Mortal Realm. In fact, when Yang Muxuan had taken Chen Ling through the "staff passage" from Willow Town, Chen Ling had already suspected this, but it was only now confirmed.

Chen Ling's gaze swept across the sky, spotting an ink-like afterimage. It was a young man in white, carrying an eight-foot ink brush on his back, moving at a speed comparable to a supersonic jet. In moments, he traversed a significant portion of the realm. Chen Ling was secretly alarmed by the powerful aura.

This was Chen Ling's first encounter with Lu Liangren. Unlike the enigmatic aura of the Second Hall, Lu Liangren made no attempt to conceal his sharp edge and dominance. His Rank Eight aura surged through the sky like a cataclysmic tsunami. As soon as Chen Ling's gaze fell upon him, Lu Liangren seemed to sense something, looking up at the sky with a hint of confusion. Chen Ling wondered if he had been discovered. A slight alarm rose in Chen Ling's heart, and he immediately averted his gaze.

Fortunately, Lu Liangren did not become suspicious, merely assuming it was the Second Hall overseeing the situation. He lowered his head and continued to fly forward. After all, who would have thought that besides him and the Second Hall, someone else could wield the authority of the relief gate?

Chen Ling continued to traverse the Mortal Realm from his overhead perspective a few more times, finding nothing noteworthy. Just as he was about to withdraw his consciousness, he suddenly remembered something and directed his gaze toward a particular street in the Mortal Main City. This street was one of the best-preserved during the convergence with the Gray Realm. Under the sealed gray sky, a theater building remained brightly lit.

Chen Ling looked down at the theater, but his gaze could not penetrate the roof to see what was happening inside. He couldn't help but sigh helplessly. He wished he could directly move there using the relief gate. As he thought this, the small flower in Chen Ling's hand gently floated. The power from the authority surged into his palm, and a strange sensation welled up in his heart. As Chen Ling felt this power, his eyes slowly closed.

With a thought, a small portion of his consciousness, which had been hovering over the Mortal Main City, detached and began to fall. It was like a wisp of his divided consciousness, carrying his awareness, gracefully descending through the howling wind, finally stabilizing on the ground. When Chen Ling opened his eyes again, he was already standing on the street where the Jinghong Theater was located.

He looked down in slight surprise, seeing that he was still wearing a large red opera robe, but his form was semi-transparent, like a disembodied soul. Chen Ling murmured to himself that it was truly miraculous, the culmination of the first generation of Floating Life Painting's Halls, to be able to not only cover the entire realm with his consciousness but also send a portion of it to move within.

Chen Ling's main body remained trapped within "Guernica." However, after gaining control over the relief gate's authority, he could project his consciousness to any corner of the realm. But it was merely consciousness; in this state, Chen Ling had no physical form and could not use any forbidden abilities. He was effectively like a ghost. This was already enough for Chen Ling; he simply wanted to return to Jinghong Theater to see how Li Qingshan and the others were faring. Chen Ling headed directly towards the entrance of Jinghong Theater.

Jinghong Theater.

Drip-drop—drip-drop—

Drizzling rain rolled down the hollowed-out sections of Jinghong Theater's roof, eventually falling into a wooden bucket prepared on the stage, creating ripples. Large red lanterns swayed slightly in the wind. Perhaps due to the stormy weather, the lanterns, which normally illuminated the entire theater brightly, were now largely dim, barely casting a faint glow amidst the eerie silence.

Inside Jinghong Theater, only the sound of falling rain broke the silence. Huang Suyue and Uncle Quan were still seated on the audience chairs in front of the stage. They looked towards the center of the theater hall, their gazes incredibly complex.

In the open space of the theater hall, the faint lantern light flickered slightly in the wind. A small boy was kneeling on the ground. In front of him lay a figure wrapped in a white sheet. Li Qingshan stood behind him, seemingly wanting to offer comfort, but unsure how to speak.

Kong Baosheng seemed deaf to his voice, remaining still on his knees like a bewildered statue. Only the lingering tear stains on his face bore witness to the hysterical wailing that had just occurred. Huang Suyue's lips were tightly pressed, but she couldn't help but stand up from the audience seats and crouch beside the boy.

She spoke softly, explaining that lymphoma was a very painful and tormenting illness, and for such patients, death could also be a release. Kong Baosheng's pale face stiffly turned, his chapped lips trembling. He explained that when she left, she was in so much pain, rolling on the ground in agony, as if something was being ripped out of her alive. Huang Suyue opened her mouth, unsure how to offer comfort. Looking at Kong Baosheng's almost broken eyes, her own heart ached involuntarily.