SES Chapter 231 Part 1

Chapter 231

The door stood there like a natural checkpoint.

On one side: rolling fog, decay, darkness, everything on the verge of collapse. On the other: a sapphire-blue sky, porcelain-white clouds, a gentle breeze, and the noisy voices of the living world.

Is this the exit?

Cao Yanhua couldn’t help stepping forward, craning his neck to look. Suddenly, he heard Mu Dai shout, “Where’s Luo Ren? Where’s Yi Wan San?”

From within the thin mist came a strange, mocking laugh. The shadows overlapped—one stacking over another—merging two into one, then one into one again.

In the end, only a single figure remained. At first, it seemed like each voice meant something different, but in the end, they all spoke of the same thing: the human heart.

Mu Dai recognized it as Xiao Qi. The shoe she’d thrown at it in anger still hung around its neck.

“They can’t get out,” it said. “You should leave. If you don’t go now, it’ll be too late.”

Mu Dai snorted. “Are you the ones who tricked Luo Ren and the others into getting trapped with your sweet talk?”

Xiao Qi burst into laughter, its upper body folding forward a full one hundred eighty degrees until it overlapped its lower half. At a glance, it looked as if it had been sliced clean in half at the waist.

“Nope,” it said. “We didn’t say a single word to them.”

Luo Ren was calm and methodical, used to gathering information from every side before making his own judgment. Yi Wan San was cunning in his own right—the kind of guy who could outsmart a con artist. Maybe whatever lurked here knew their personalities well enough to realize that talking to smart people only increased the chance of slipping up. So it simply said nothing.

Mu Dai’s thoughts tangled into a mess.

When those malevolent fragments were around, things were oddly simple—just a multiple-choice question. Either you believed them, didn’t believe them, or chose what parts to believe. At most, three options.

But left to their own devices? With Luo Ren’s caution and Yi Wan San’s constant suspicion, their intelligence might backfire. They could interpret the puzzle a thousand different ways, sinking deeper and deeper into the mirage-filled swamp of the Fourfold Illusion Tower.

“I told you before,” Xiao Qi said, “I’m one of the good guys. I wanted to help you leave, but you wouldn’t believe me. I’ve said everything there is to say. If you don’t go now, I won’t let you go at all. I’m about to lose my temper.”

Goosebumps prickled along Mu Dai’s arms. She couldn’t tell what these “fierce fragments” really were. They weren’t human—awkwardly imitating human shapes and speech, yet lacking any real polish or subtlety. It sounded like an old friend chatting casually when it said I’m about to lose my temper, but Mu Dai could tell it meant every word—and when it did lose its temper, it would be terrifying.

She lifted her chin and shouted, “We’re not leaving without them! Luo Ren and Yi Wan San are still inside!”

Xiao Qi gave a dry laugh. “Don’t humans believe in sacrificing the small to save the big? Two people were supposed to be enough—you three could’ve lived. Now you all want to die together? Fine. Nobody leaves. I’ve played with you long enough. I’m tired of this game.”

Before the words even faded, one of its arms suddenly stretched out, whipping toward the door.

Yan Hongsha screamed, “It’s trying to destroy the door! Mu Dai—if the door’s gone, none of us can get out!”

She rushed forward, grabbing the arm head-on—but her feet left the ground as the limb flung her aside. Cao Yanhua roared and tackled Xiao Qi. Its body felt soft at first, then suddenly compressed to the thickness of paper, slipping free of his grip in an instant. A tentacle-like arm lashed out, smashing heavily into the door.

With a creaking groan, the door tilted ominously.

Chaos erupted. Mu Dai abandoned any sense of form or technique—she and Yan Hongsha lunged in together, grabbing, kicking, stomping, tearing, using anything they could. Xiao Qi’s limbs twisted like the body of a python—heavy, slick, bending at impossible angles, stretching longer and longer. It hooked their necks, tangled their legs, binding all three together before rolling wildly across the ground with a shrill, hissing laugh.

The grip tightened. The three of them became a tangled ball, tumbling faster and faster, dizzy and disoriented. One moment Mu Dai was crushed at the bottom; the next she was on top, glimpsing the thin mist and the five floating bridges stretching into the dense fog—and the cliff edge rushing closer and closer…

In a flash of inspiration, Mu Dai shouted, “Blood! It’s afraid of our blood!”

The next moment, timing the roll, she thrust her arm outward, scraping it across a jagged rock. Pain shot through the back of her hand; blood welled instantly. Without hesitation, she pressed the wound against Xiao Qi.

Sure enough, the piercing laughter twisted into a cry of pain. Its hold loosened, and the three of them scattered apart. Mu Dai had just scrambled to her feet when Xiao Qi let out a monstrous roar. The platform trembled violently; rocks tumbled off the cliff; the floating bridges swayed precariously.

Mu Dai reacted at once. “If they can’t get out, we’ll go find them! As long as we bring them back, it’ll work!”

She stumbled toward one of the bridges and saw the archaic character “Wood” carved into the first plank—not this one. That was her own path. She needed Luo Ren’s.

The platform shook even harder. Mu Dai fell, crawling on hands and knees until she spotted the ancient character “Metal.”

“I’m going to find Luo Xiaodao,” she called out. “One of you find Yi Wan San—leave one person behind to hold off the fragments!”

With that, she forced herself up and rushed onto the bridge. Strangely, once she stepped onto it, the shaking eased. The farther she went, the thicker the fog became. She gripped the ropes on both sides, her palms slick with sweat.

She didn’t know how long she walked. The moment she stepped into the corridor, Xiao Qi’s eerie voice echoed from every direction:

“Everyone can only walk their own path. Do you really think barging in like this will bring him back?”

—Do you really think barging in like this will bring him back?

What did that mean?

Inside, it wasn’t the same kind of corridor she’d seen before. There were no mountains, no shifting reflections—just a vast, barren expanse stretching endlessly.

Mu Dai wandered forward in confusion.

Without warning, she stepped into a lavishly decorated room. Everything looked luxurious but outdated—like something from decades ago.

A middle-aged woman stood by a dragon-and-phoenix-carved dining table, hands trembling as she unscrewed a bottle of pills. A few tablets slipped into a bowl of soup, fizzing as they dissolved. The woman stirred frantically with a spoon.

“Who are you?” Mu Dai asked. “Do you know Luo Ren?”

The woman didn’t react at all. Mu Dai turned, puzzled—and saw a full-length mirror. But no matter how she looked, her face didn’t appear in it.