Chapter 27: Sudden Mutation

After hearing Yu Jing’s words, a wave of emotions surged within me. It seems that surviving in another world isn’t easy either—human hearts are indeed frightening. The reason life is so exhausting is that we pursue too many things, and satisfaction is never within reach.

Xiao Xiang Ke’er nudged me gently as I stared absentmindedly at the cave ceiling. She hugged her knees and asked, “Brother Li, is it true what Yu Jing said, that you aren’t from this world?”

“That’s right. I crossed over from a distant time and space—you can tell just by looking at my hair,” I replied, running a hand over my short-cropped hair.

She made a playful face and said, “Hmm, now that I look closely, you do seem rather handsome.”

I grinned, “Of course.” Back in my days studying law at Peking University, countless women were drawn to my looks, confessing their feelings openly or in secret. But then, I was single-minded in my studies, determined to become a good police officer. Dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. It wasn’t until I actually joined the force that I realized being a police officer was far from easy. People would curry favor when they needed help; if I refused, I’d be criticized by my superiors; if I accepted, it always felt improper.

Within a year of joining the force, the dreams of my childhood were shattered. It wasn’t until I met Liu Tingting that hope returned—she was like a dream, leaving an indelible mark on my heart. Xiao Xiang Ke’er looked up at me with her bright, limpid eyes and asked, “Brother Li, what is your world like?”

Leaning back on my hands, I raised my head slightly and said, “Our world is an era of technology. There are no martial artists there—people are physically very weak, even weaker than the ordinary people here.” By “ordinary people,” I meant the ones in this world—though they call themselves ordinary, their strength far surpasses that of twenty-first-century humans. Here, an average person could easily leap two meters high and lift two hundred pounds with one hand. If they became athletes, each would be a champion.

Yu Jing, equally curious, leaned in to listen. “Is there no killing in your world?”

“Of course there is. In our twenty-first century, killing is against the law. Law is the set of rules established by the nation. Anyone who kills faces severe punishment.”

Yu Jing nodded thoughtfully. “How wonderful. No killing, no conflicts—how I wish I could visit your world.”

I could only give a wry smile. A life without conflict—who wouldn’t want that? But sometimes, one cannot escape the world’s entanglements. Xiao Xiang Ke’er seemed to have another question, but before she could speak, the entire cave began to shake violently. Was it that monstrous humanoid again?

I quickly looked toward the magma pool, but saw no sign of the creature. The tremors were even stronger than before. I called Yu Jing and Ke’er to run out. Staying vigilant behind them, I retreated, wary of a sudden attack. We managed to reach the surface safely, where Xu Lin was already waiting at the cave entrance. Seeing us emerge, he hurried over to help, his voice anxious: “The White Fox is in trouble!”

Hearing that the Nine-Tailed Fox was in danger, I rushed into the castle. Inside, Xu Qinghuan was pacing anxiously by the bed. Lying there was a woman as ethereal as a fairy, but her face was deathly pale. As we entered, she slowly opened her hollow eyes. I asked, “What happened?”

Xu Qinghuan replied, “I don’t know. She was fine this morning.”

The White Fox struggled weakly to sit up, coughing softly. “Young Master Li, take them and leave—if you don’t go now, it will be too late.”

I quickly helped her up. “Miss Bai, what’s going on?”

She looked at me with lifeless eyes. “Don’t ask, just go.”

I knew we couldn’t afford to delay. The cave could collapse at any moment. I scooped up the Nine-Tailed Fox and dashed out, urging everyone to follow. But just as we were about to reach the exit, a massive boulder crashed down, sealing the entrance. More stones tumbled down, trapping us in the narrow passage. I gently set the Nine-Tailed Fox down and checked her pulse—it was extremely weak. Having enjoyed reading medical books since childhood, I’d picked up some basic skills like taking pulses and acupuncture. I asked, perplexed, “What’s actually happening?”

The Nine-Tailed Fox, barely able to open her eyes, whispered, “I’m afraid I can’t hold on much longer.”

It turned out that after my battle with Mo Laosan, I’d suffered grave internal injuries. The Nine-Tailed Fox had given me a pill, which I only now realized was her own inner elixir, condensed through a century of cultivation. All creatures can pursue the Dao, but few comprehend how perilous the path is. Every hundred years, one faces a tribulation—cultivation is seen as defying the heavens, and the trials are unimaginably dreadful. If one fails, not even the soul remains. Many creatures, fearing this fate, would rather live out their lives in ignorance, hoping for a better reincarnation.

The Nine-Tailed Fox had survived nine such tribulations. Perhaps her kindness moved the heavens, or perhaps it was the spiritual herbs she had consumed over the centuries. She had never harmed another being, sustaining herself solely on spiritual plants. Losing one tail meant losing a hundred years of cultivation; giving me her inner elixir cost another hundred. Now she had only seven hundred years left.

When Yu Jing was injured, the fox had given up her only life-sustaining pill. To keep us safe, she stayed behind in the underground castle, missing the best chance to heal. I wanted to slap myself—if I’d known how precious that pill was, I would never have accepted it. After all, my body has the power to heal itself, though the fox didn’t know that.

After she finished speaking, the Nine-Tailed Fox closed her eyes. Silence fell. Time seemed to freeze. Did all good people come to bad ends? No! My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. At that moment, a black aura enveloped me. With a roar, I hurled myself at the massive stone blocking the exit, punching it again and again. My hands were soon a bloody mess, but I felt no pain.

Xu Qinghuan’s face was etched with worry, tears glimmering in her eyes. Li Yunfei, you’re useless—even the people closest to you, you cannot protect! I pounded the stone with growing force, shattering it piece by piece. Finally, with one final, powerful blow, the stone exploded. I scooped up the White Fox and charged outside. There was only one hope left: Murong Xue. I had to bring her to Murong Xue—maybe there was still time.

I sprinted across the vast grassland, Yu Jing and the others close behind. We had barely gone far when a deafening roar erupted behind us. I turned to see a gigantic beast climbing out of the ruins. It had nine heads, a serpentine body, and its massive form blocked out the sun. With a few heaves, it pulled itself from the ground, licked at the blood I’d spilled, and lunged toward us.

I cursed in frustration—another monster at a time like this! I called to Yu Jing to hold it off for me. There was no time to waste; I didn’t know if Yu Jing could handle it, but there was no other choice. I shouted for everyone to follow me into the Misty Forest, and Xiao Xiang Ke’er insisted on staying by Yu Jing’s side, so I had to let her.

We wandered the Misty Forest for a long while before finally finding Murong Xue’s home. I pushed open the door and hurried in, only to find her gone. I paced anxiously, then arranged for Xu Qinghuan and her father to wait for her and explain the situation when she returned. I headed back the way I’d come—I could not let harm come to those beside me again.