Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Woman and Knowledge in the Bunker

When Chen Qing realized these things, he also understood some of the rules governing this back room.

The moment he set foot in the earth tower, he entered the past. And each time he left the earth tower, he arrived in a present that existed within the past.

Every time he set out for a new earth tower, he was gradually making his way back to the “now”—that is, returning to the back room from the very first time he entered the earth tower.

Because the three hints were mutually valid, it could be deduced that when the contents written on the document were “false” or “nonexistent,” those contents would become reality. However, if the document truly recorded events that happened in the current earth tower, nothing would occur. The investigators all recorded the circumstances within the earth tower during their first or second entry, thus fulfilling the rule of recording history on the document and earning the qualification to successfully leave—or rather, to enter the next earth tower, to step into the future.

Since they existed in the past, the events they recorded would take place in the future. When they wrote down the past as it existed in the present, everything had already occurred.

This is the first rule: one must record events that have already happened in history.

Once Chen Qing grasped this rule, he began testing the points at which the future could be altered. So he wrote a record that caused a donut to appear in the past.

But after writing it down, he found that the past at that moment did not change, meaning the irreversibility of time still held true—just as the hints indicated.

The future can only be modified in the present and the past. But the future cannot alter traces left by the past.

This is the second rule: past time cannot be affected by the future, but past time can influence the future.

Understanding this, Chen Qing began to formulate a plan.

In this earth tower, as long as he remained buried under the yellow sand, he could continuously alter the future to achieve his aims.

But to influence the future from the past, he needed a pair of eyes to see what the future held.

So he wrote a record:

“The dead will return to the place of their birth.”

After these words were written, Chen Qing and Jiang Wan, buried in the yellow sand, were unaffected. But after using the Yin-Yang Dawn to split themselves into two, and once Jiang Wan lost all her memories and personality, lying in bed bound by ropes—

After Chen Qing left “kill any living thing that appears before me” within his main body and separated out all remaining memories and personalities, the two gained a pair of eyes to observe the future.

After their consciousness transferred to their split forms, each part went to the second earth tower, then the third.

Because the separated bodies had their appearances altered by Chen Qing with a human-skin mask, the conflict between the Church of Divine Grace and the Foundation grew more intense.

After walking the entire path and dying, they returned to the first earth tower.

Upon reaching their place of origin, Chen Qing and Jiang Wan regained the memories belonging to the future. Based on what would happen, they wrote on paper content that could change the battle’s outcome.

“Let all things influenced by me return to the beginning.”

And this pertains to the most crucial rule within this back room.

The past cannot be changed, but the birdsong and flowers Chen Qing first encountered upon entering is the true present, the real here and now. All the disasters experienced in the current earth towers were fated to happen; history had already shaped things this way.

This is the past, a fixed fact that has already transpired. The past needs no one to change it.

The past will naturally evolve into the present. Anyone who tries to describe or alter the past will not be acknowledged by history.

Because of this rule, Chen Qing and Jiang Wan were the only two who satisfied all three rules of the back room, allowing them to step onto the road to the future, the road toward their desire.

They reached level 2 of this back room.

After the two walked side by side for over ten minutes, a huge archway stood on either side of the path ahead. Passing through it, they arrived at an entrance to a mound-shaped bunker.

As they approached, they saw a string of meaningless numbers written in ink above the entrance:

SBL-1701.

The bunker’s iron door was covered in rust; in places the heavy iron had grown noticeably thinner. Chen Qing touched the door, but the marking on it was strangely fresh, the letters sticky to the touch, likely written only days before.

He knocked gently. The iron ring on the door clanged, the sound echoing throughout the bunker and growing louder.

After three knocks, the heavy door swung open.

Inside, visibility was extremely limited—barely ten meters could be seen; deeper in, darkness swallowed everything.

Chen Qing and Jiang Wan stepped inside. The moment they crossed the threshold, the iron door slammed shut behind them.

The noise was immense; the heavy iron door pushed a gust of air that made them stumble forward, their vision shifting with each step.

When they looked up again, searching for each other, Chen Qing couldn’t find Jiang Wan. He frowned slightly, scanned the surroundings, and suddenly a desk lamp not far away flickered on.

By its light, Chen Qing could see the room.

But what he saw was far from the neat space he’d glimpsed from outside. The room was chaotic, cluttered with all manner of objects, and scattered everywhere were countless bones.

He nudged his foot forward, clearing a path toward the lit lamp.

Beneath the lamp stood a table and two chairs.

The chairs were thick with dust, but the table was spotlessly clean.

Chen Qing sat down, and the lamp before him changed color—from warm orange to a hint of azure at the wick.

The blue light spread through the room, casting the objects in a bizarre glow.

“You may take whatever you desire from here.” A voice spoke from the darkness.

It was old and deep, like an elderly man in his later years, his lungs diseased.

“There’s nothing here that I want,” Chen Qing replied, shaking his head. He had already inspected the room the moment the light came on.

He was certain that none of the items scattered about were important.

“Then leave.”

He shook his head again. “I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.”

“What do you want?”

“I want the knowledge recorded on paper, the data that can only be passed on by word of mouth.”

The voice in the shadows fell silent, plunging the bunker into a deep hush.

After a while, a woman’s indifferent voice sounded from within.

Her tone was languid, as if she had just awoken from a long sleep.

She yawned and asked Chen Qing, “What do you want? What do you wish to take? Knowledge is always the most precious commodity for equal exchange. What will you trade me for it?”

Chen Qing stroked his chin, questioning the shadow, “I need to know what knowledge you can offer. Occultism? Or science?”

The voice seemed to laugh—not mockingly, but with a hint of amusement. She chuckled a few times before replying, “Science. Of course it’s science. Everything in this world can be explained scientifically. Even the occult, it’s just that people are ignorant.”

As she finished speaking, a woman in a qipao stepped from the shadows.

She was graceful, her hair wound into a glossy bun. There were traces of solution on her fingertips that had not been washed away. Her face was lightly lined, yet she did not seem old.

She sat across from Chen Qing, legs elegantly crossed, a fan in her left hand. On the fan was a dense array of tiny numbers, extremely complex and crowded like a swarm of ants.

She leaned forward, her figure so full that she pressed against the table.

“Any knowledge you desire, I can give you. But in return, what can you provide me?”

Chen Qing listened, feeling a slight surprise, but quickly gathered his wandering thoughts and focused on her.

“I can offer you a non-legacy artifact as payment, in exchange for the Foundation’s method of promoting a non-legacy artifact.”

“Oh?” She smiled, continuing, “You realize you’re asking for one of humanity’s paths to ascension. Trading only a non-legacy artifact? You’d need an S-class one for that.”

Chen Qing frowned, instantly realizing something.

She hadn’t asked what the non-legacy artifact was. She must have spoken with others before.

He watched her, but the woman simply sat quietly, waiting.

“I only need a few paths,” he said.

“Even a few paths aren’t worth that price.”

“You could tell me another story.”

“Stories aren’t free.”

“Your story.”

“My story costs even more.”

Chen Qing listened, then took a small cube from his pocket and placed it on the table.

“With this, exchange your golden words: tell me how you became a traitor.”

She smiled faintly, her gaze never leaving the cube.

“That’s a complicated story. But for the sake of an old acquaintance…” She hesitated, then asked, “If you’ll sign a contract with me, I’ll bestow upon you all the knowledge I possess.”

Chen Qing met her eyes, staring intently for several seconds before he spoke. “I don’t think I have enough capital to buy all your treasures.”

“Perhaps you do,” she replied, smiling. “If you sign this contract with me, then you will.”