C113 — Qin Zu’s Witness

Mu Sichen was always calm. He had the habit of thinking things through before acting, observing before making a move, and rarely letting impulse get the better of him. But once he did take action, he trusted his own judgment completely.

Yet at this moment, staring at that face, Mu Sichen’s blood pressure kept rising, and countless images flashed through his mind.

In the sanatorium — the trust and admiration he once had for Shen Jiyue.

In the factory — the terror Shen Jiyue’s true form had inflicted upon him.

In the library — how Shen Jiyue had disguised himself as He Fei, nearly deceiving him completely.

Though he didn’t know why Shen Jiyue had appeared in Mengdie Town, why the phone belonged to him, or why it was his voice on the call — with so many questions unanswered, Mu Sichen made his decision in an instant:

Shen Jiyue must not be allowed to speak.

This god-level monster was toxic.

His words could warp one’s understanding.

His language could lead people by the nose.

His voice could, invisibly, manipulate the human spirit.

Mu Sichen took less than 0.1 seconds to decide. He shoved Shen Jiyue back into the room, quickly locked the door behind them, and left He Fei — too straightforward, too easily swayed by words — shut outside. Then, he summoned the crossaxe.

The crossaxe carried old grudges against Shen Jiyue too — after all, the first name it had given itself was “Moonbreaker.” That alone proved its hatred.

“Don’t be rash…” Shen Jiyue said with his usual smile, as warm and gentle as the bright moon. But he had barely spoken when the crossaxe whirled like a storm, smashing every mirror, pane of glass, and reflective surface in the room — stripping away anything that could amplify Shen Jiyue’s abilities.

Mu Sichen didn’t leave the crossaxe to fight alone. He pulled from his inventory the half-severed mechanical tentacle and lashed it fiercely at Shen Jiyue.

“Why so hasty?” Shen Jiyue lifted a finger toward the ground. A corpse lying on the floor suddenly jerked upright, shielding him from the blow.

Only then did Mu Sichen notice the body sprawled in the room, and that Shen Jiyue’s hands were smeared with blood.

That sight made Mu Sichen falter for a split second. Shen Jiyue seized the opening to speak:

“I’m not your enemy. This time, I’m your ally.”

“You’re always my ‘ally,’” Mu Sichen said coldly. With a gesture, the crossaxe — having reduced the room to wreckage — flew back toward him, then lunged straight for Shen Jiyue.

“I swear in the name of the Moon,” Shen Jiyue said quickly, “I will help you seize the Dreamspace. But you must help me reclaim what’s mine — witnessed by Qin Zu.”

The crossaxe halted a mere centimeter from Shen Jiyue’s throat.

Mu Sichen stayed its hand.

Not because he believed Shen Jiyue’s so-called “swear in the name of the Moon,” something that sounded like childish nonsense from a cartoon, but because Shen Jiyue had spoken a name — Qin Zu.

His real name. Not a title.

Until now, aside from Mu Sichen, no living person — or god-level monster — had ever uttered Qin Zu’s name directly.

The people of Xiangping Town called him General Qin.

The diary’s owner had written “Qin Zu,” but the diary’s owner had gone mad.

Even Shen Jiyue, when speaking of him before, had only dared to use titles: “the Absolutely Rational One,” “the Guardian of Humanity,” “the Hand that Covers the Sky.”

Even the system, when speaking with Mu Sichen, only called him “the Relatively Rational One.”

The more one understood Qin Zu’s power, whether human or monster, the less they dared to speak his name.

And now, Shen Jiyue had spoken it outright.

That was proof enough his words weren’t a lie.

But Mu Sichen didn’t completely trust Shen Jiyue.

His hand gripped the circular center of the Crossaxe, eyes wary as he stared coldly at Him.

“You only have the right to say three sentences. If you can’t explain the whole story clearly in those three sentences, I’ll eliminate you.”

Mu Sichen knew well — the being before him wasn’t Shen Jiyue’s true body. If it were, neither he nor the crossaxe would stand a chance of harming Him.

This was merely a vessel Shen Jiyue had possessed. And with Mu Sichen’s strength, disposing of such a vessel was an easy task.

Shen Jiyue nodded, accepting Mu Sichen’s condition.

He fell into thought, carefully arranging his words, then under Mu Sichen’s pressing gaze, he finally spoke:

“The Deep Sea was the world’s first Mitian.”

Just the first sentence was enough to make Mu Sichen draw the crossaxe back slightly.

He had known it. The moment Shen Jiyue spoke, one’s thoughts were inevitably pulled into His rhythm, unknowingly led along to His reasoning, manipulated by His voice.

And yet — the information was so enticing that Mu Sichen couldn’t help but want to listen.

As far as he knew, “the Deep Sea” was merely a Sun-Eclipser, and it wasn’t as strong as Qin Zu. No Mitian had ever been born in this world.

Shen Jiyue smiled faintly and continued:

“It tried to rise above Mitian, devouring the powers of other gods, leaving us incomplete.”

Mu Sichen’s grip on the crossaxe slackened further.

Then Shen Jiyue gave his third sentence:

“Until the Butterfly stole Its power, forcing It back into being a Sun Eclipser.”

He tilted his head, eyes shimmering with amusement. “Three sentences aren’t enough to explain what happened back then. May I continue?”

Mu Sichen asked coldly: “If It had already become a Mitian, how could the Butterfly possibly steal Its power?”

“Of course, because we didn’t allow It,” Shen Jiyue said with pride. “If we had let the Deep Sea keep devouring, sooner or later we all would have become Its food. The first to take action… was Qin Zu.”

“You dare speak His name now?” Mu Sichen asked.

Shen Jiyue’s smile deepened. “Without His witness, how else would you believe my words?”

Mu Sichen pressed his lips together. It was true. The moment he had heard that name, the violent agitation he’d felt upon seeing Shen Jiyue had eased.

Even though Qin Zu was not here, when Shen Jiyue spoke those two characters, it was as if someone whispered by his ear: I am here.

“What did Qin Zu do?” Mu Sichen asked.

Shen Jiyue replied:

“At that time, the Deep Sea’s power was unmatched. Even Its lieutenants were close to Hidden Star level, and through them the Deep Sea could descend without dying. It sent Its servants ceaselessly to invade other domains. The whole world lay under Its shadow.

Until Qin Zu gave the Butterfly in Xiangping Town the gift of reason.

Reason allowed the Butterfly to awaken — to realize It was merely the Deep Sea’s vessel, destined to one day collapse beneath Its power and die. No longer blinded by worship, It grew the seed of rebellion.

“Think of it, Sichen — isn’t humanity fascinating? Faith born of blindness, and the very first act upon regaining clarity is betrayal.”

“I’m not close enough with you for lectures,” Mu Sichen said coldly. “And every individual is different. Faced with the same situation, different people make different choices. Faith, too, can be divided — into noble belief worth dying for, and false deceptions not worth trusting. You can’t use the word humanity to cover all things.”

Shen Jiyue gazed into Mu Sichen’s eyes, sighed softly, and said, “You’ve grown so much.”

“Continue,” Mu Sichen commanded.

Shen Jiyue’s voice lowered, almost reverent:

“After the seed of rebellion sprouted, Qin Zu risked Himself — splitting His own being, gifting the Butterfly the power of ‘Rebellion,’ helping It to grow.”

Ever since they entered the Repentance Community, Mu Sichen had felt the weight of unspeakable truths, but what Shen Jiyue just revealed left him shaken to the core.

“Other gods also granted the Butterfly different powers. Even your system lent the power of transfer to the Butterfly, leaving behind a hidden danger for your world,” Shen Jiyue said.

Mu Sichen’s mind spun out of control. These stories of battles and betrayals among god-level beings were almost too much for him to bear. His grip on the crossaxe loosened, and he collapsed weakly into a chair.

Shen Jiyue smiled faintly.

“Seems you still can’t handle too much truth. Then let me simplify. In short—the Deep Sea, who had become a Mitian, was divided. The Butterfly carried away the ‘Sea of consciousness’ and built its own dream kingdom.”

“The Butterfly couldn’t devour all of the Deep Sea’s power at once. It gave portions to Deep Sea’s other followers, who then divided Deep Sea Town into territories and built their own small towns. Later, those territories were swallowed again by other gods.”

 

“Now the Deep Sea shows signs of revival. Everyone fears its return, but the one who fears it most… is the Butterfly.”

“So the Butterfly prayed to Qin Zu for help, risking everything to devour the Deep Sea. And your power gave the Butterfly greater odds of success.”

Mu Sichen had never imagined that behind his trip to Mengdie Town was such a grand game of gods.

He rubbed his forehead, took out a “self” sticker, pressed it to his palm, and laid that hand against the back of his neck. Only then did his mind clear enough to think.

From what the system had said before, it was clear that the system feared powers above Mitian. It never wanted such an existence to appear, because it would mean the destruction of this world. And if this world collapsed, pollution would descend upon reality.

That meant the system wasn’t just some tool—it was the will of an entire force protecting reality itself. It had been struggling with all its strength to guard the world.

When the Deep Sea grew too strong, it wasn’t only other gods who opposed it—the system also intervened. That was when it helped the Butterfly transfer part of the Deep Sea’s power. The method it used must have been similar to Mu Sichen’s “Wall-Digging” skill or Chi Lian’s “Cut-and-Paste” ability. In short, a power of transfer and relocation.

“After the Butterfly divided Deep Sea’s power, did you all reclaim your own?” Mu Sichen asked.

Shen Jiyue’s eyes glowed with admiration.

“You asked the key question. The answer: some did, some didn’t.”

“Whose power was reclaimed?”

 

“Your system reclaimed its transfer power. It had an entire world behind it, and the Butterfly couldn’t break its pact. But with other gods, the Butterfly broke its word. It kept what it could keep and discarded what it couldn’t.

“Qin Zu’s Sprout power was abandoned in the wasteland, where a mortal picked it up and became a new god—the Origin.”

“As for me, I was the most miserable. The Butterfly transformed my power into a tool, and sealed it within the Dream Space. I’ve always wanted it back.”

“But the Butterfly guards its territory jealously. Our followers couldn’t penetrate its realm—until you claimed one of the Pillars. Only then could I send a follower back into Mengdie Town.”

No wonder powers resembling Shen Jiyue’s had appeared in the Repentance Community. It wasn’t an illusion—his powers had truly been stolen by the Butterfly.

Thinking of “tools,” Mu Sichen finally understood how the Butterfly had used Shen Jiyue’s abilities. Just like how the big-eyed being had once turned into golden spectacles, god-level powers could indeed be bound into objects and wielded as artifacts.

“Other god-level monsters might be helpless against the Butterfly, but your followers are your avatars—how could you be unable to reclaim your own power from the Butterfly’s domain?” Mu Sichen asked.

Shen Jiyue smiled with a delighted expression. “Sichen, I didn’t expect you to rate me so highly, to trust in my strength like that.”

Mu Sichen felt nauseous and short of breath at the familiar, intimate way Shen Jiyue addressed him. He had already stopped Shen Jiyue once and threatened him; but some god-level beings have the nerve of steel and insist on cozying up—what could he do? Rip Shen Jiyue’s mouth to shreds?

“I’ve merely experienced your cunning,” Mu Sichen said.

Shen Jiyue replied, “That in itself is a high compliment. Unfortunately, I really am a bit helpless against the Butterfly.”

“First: it belongs to the power of the Sea, not the Sky. Even if my level is somewhat higher than theirs, I can’t hide from their perception.”

“When I entered Tongzhi Town, I could move freely beneath the eyeball of the ‘Eye of the Sky’ because I possess Sky power—I can subtly influence its spirit and slightly confuse it so it won’t recognize me. But Mengdie Town is different. You should understand the Butterfly’s power: it guards that dream-space like a brooding hen; if an intruder appears, it immediately pounces.”

“To make it sleep, Qin Zu gave up so many beautiful memories—I can’t bear to let those precious memories go.”

Mentioning the beautiful memories Qin Zu gave up made Mu Sichen feel a dull ache in his chest. He gradually began to believe some of Shen Jiyue’s words, but he still couldn’t let his guard down with that god-level being.

Shen Jiyue hadn’t lied: he did want to reclaim their power and did indeed need Mu Sichen’s help. But that didn’t mean Shen Jiyue would cooperate obediently—Shen Jiyue would surely try to corrupt him.

In this situation, being overly defensive would only make Shen Jiyue more cautious, making his moves subtle and hard to detect. It would be better to relax a little and show a slight vulnerability—Shen Jiyue would deliberately attack that flaw, which would be easier to guard against.

Mu Sichen thought for a moment and, half-true and half-false, said, “Why does the Butterfly cherish beautiful memories so much? Could I help Qin Zu retrieve his beautiful memories?”

As soon as he said this, Mu Sichen felt a scorching gaze land on him. The stare was so intense his face flushed. He hadn’t actually intended to help Qin Zu recover anything—he only wanted to show Shen Jiyue a crack, to make Shen Jiyue think Qin Zu was important to him, and thus attack that angle so Mu Sichen could defend against spiritual contamination.

Shen Jiyue looked at Mu Sichen with some surprise and said meaningfully, “I don’t recommend you place too much hope or fondness in that ‘Cold-Blooded One.’ I speak under his witness because I know he will cooperate with you, not because he is trustworthy.”

“That’s none of your business,” Mu Sichen said.

Shen Jiyue smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He said, “Since you insist on being overconfident, I’ll grudgingly give you a hint. If you can enter the Gate of Twilight, there might still be a chance to recover Qin Zu’s memories.”

“But before that, the most important thing isn’t Qin Zu’s beautiful memories—it’s my power. I’m quite sure my power is inside this ‘Pillar’; it’s just that I don’t know in what form the Butterfly has hidden it. I want to take it back.”

 

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