C124 — Sacrifice

Unfortunately, the Butterfly was an evil god who tolerated no dissenting opinions.

Along with the surge of hatred came an enormous pressure. Mu Sichen instantly felt the full weight of the entire domain pressing down on him. He didn’t even have time to think of how to defend himself before he collapsed into a pile of black-and-white little cubes.

After that, the black cubes began rolling continuously toward the Path of Metamorphosis, as if trying to transfer away every part of Mu Sichen that Butterfly had deemed “tainted.”

Fortunately, in the very next second, an extremely heavy force propped up that pressure. Then the two terrifying forces vanished entirely, and the rolling of the black cubes stopped.

Along with that weighty power, Mu Sichen—now reduced to black-and-white cubes—felt a familiar gaze.

It was Qin Zu.

[When you hit someone, don’t hit their face; when you insult someone, don’t expose their scars. You stabbed Butterfly right in the sore spot. Even while fighting the Deep Sea, It didn’t forget to punch you once by manipulating the power of its domain.]

The system’s voice rang out in Mu Sichen’s mind.

“What’s going on with my current state? Why can I still think even though I’ve turned into black-and-white cubes?”* Mu Sichen thought.

He tried moving a finger. On the ground, one black cube and one white cube bounced slightly.

He could actually still move.

[It’s not like your body was chopped into countless pieces—this is just a division of your spiritual body. A spiritual body is maintained by consciousness. As long as your consciousness doesn’t disperse, the spiritual body can reassemble at any time. Stop pretending. Get up.]

When consciousness was intact, reassembly was instinctive.

 

With a single thought, Mu Sichen sent out the signal that he wanted to stand up and move.

The cubes on the ground began to roll, gathering together until they reformed Mu Sichen’s body, which even took a couple of steps forward.

Ji Xian’an, who had been crouching nearby and watching Mu Sichen with concern, finally let out a sigh of relief.

“I’m fine,” Mu Sichen said. “I knew there couldn’t be any fighting inside the Gate of Dawn, so I dared to scold it.”

Yes—Mu Sichen had never been the reckless type who charged ahead without thinking. What he said earlier was partly because he wanted to say it, and partly because he was testing the limits of the Gate of Dawn.

From the very beginning, Mu Sichen had been trying to take out his crossaxe, but this time the pickaxe stayed lazily in the weapon inventory, acting as if it couldn’t be bothered to move—almost as if it had long known that the external environment wasn’t suitable for it.

From this, Mu Sichen concluded that the Dependent hadn’t lied even once: fighting was completely impossible here.

But what he wanted to know was whether this rule applied only to outsiders, or if even the Dependents themselves were restricted.

He had been trying to provoke the dependent all along, but he seemed to have handed over all negative emotions entirely, becoming like a dead fish—utterly unresponsive, leaving nothing to test.

So Mu Sichen boldly spoke ill of Butterfly.

He was well aware that Butterfly was locked in a bitter battle with the Deep Sea and shouldn’t be able to spare much attention or power. Even if It did strike back, it might not be that formidable.

Sure enough, things unfolded exactly as he had expected. Even Butterfly’s power couldn’t truly engage in combat inside the Gate of Dawn.

Because this rule had been set by Butterfly itself—and even It could not violate it.

However, just moments ago, Butterfly had indeed been capable of taking away Mu Sichen’s black cubes. If Qin Zu hadn’t stepped in in time to restrain Butterfly, Mu Sichen would really have overplayed his hand this time.

Of course, Qin Zu’s intervention had also been within Mu Sichen’s expectations.

He had just directly called Qin Zu by name; Qin Zu’s gaze was bound to fall upon him.

In order to secure the dream space for him, Qin Zu had paid a heavy price, maneuvering between Butterfly and the Deep Sea.

Qin Zu truly couldn’t interfere with matters inside the domain—but restraining Butterfly, who was seeking power from Him, was hardly a difficult task.

Mu Sichen believed that Qin Zu, his “angel investor,” had already poured a hundred million into him—surely he wouldn’t mind spending another million.

Overall, this test had yielded two key gains.

First, Mu Sichen saw just how much Butterfly valued the Gate of Dawn, worrying that it might be interfered with from the outside while It was trying to seize the “Pillar.” By provoking Butterfly first and then having Qin Zu step in to stop It, Mu Sichen ensured that—based on his understanding of Qin Zu—Qin Zu would never give Butterfly a second chance to influence Mengdie Town. One hidden danger had been eliminated.

Second, Mu Sichen confirmed that the greatest danger inside the Gate of Dawn was losing control of the black cubes.

Here, having one’s body shattered wasn’t a serious injury—losing the black cubes was what truly damaged the soul.

Mu Sichen didn’t think having flaws was a bad thing.

Humanity progressed precisely because it was imperfect.

Moreover, some emotions were inherently dual in nature.

Anger could sometimes drive progress. Guilt could become the catalyst for change. The other side of recklessness and courting death was courage. Without sadness, how could one ever understand the beauty of happiness?

Under normal circumstances, people lived their daily lives step by step, rarely feeling particularly happy—sometimes even bored or irritable.

But if one day they suffered from severe toothache, they would begin to long for their past life of health and comfort. And once the pain was cured, happiness returned.

Looking at the Dependent before him—lifeless and devoid of vitality—all his black cubes had vanished. Was he truly happy? Did he even understand what happiness was anymore?

The black cubes couldn’t be lost. But Mu Sichen also knew that within this “Pillar,” it seemed impossible to approach it without surrendering them.

With a thought, Mu Sichen took out five cubes labeled “Laziness 1–5,” considering how to resolve this situation with the least sacrifice.

When he had shattered earlier, he had counted—he had fifteen “Laziness” cubes. Giving up five instead of all of them… would that be enough

 

Just as he hesitated, Ji Xian’an suddenly asked, “Can we form a team to clear this? Use my black cubes to let both of us move forward.”

“No,” the Dependents replied. “Metamorphosis is a single-plank bridge—only one person can pass.”

“Then it can only be like this.” Ji Xian’an turned to Mu Sichen. “I’ll go first.”

Mu Sichen immediately understood what he meant and objected, “No. You stay here and watch—I’ll go.”

Ji Xian’an shook his head. “That doesn’t follow the rules of Xiangping Town. Mu Sichen, at the very center of our town stands a massive ‘Pillar.’ It has been there since the town was founded—the very first Pillar. Do you know what kind of emotional energy it requires?”

 

Mu Sichen had seen this scene before—in the book Embrace.

 

“Sacrifice,” both Mu Sichen and Ji Xian’an said in unison.

“You knew?” Ji Xian’an was briefly surprised, then smiled. “Everyone in Xiangping Town knows—peace and harmony are bought with ‘sacrifice.’”

Mu Sichen knew that too. And he also knew why Ji Xian’an had always been so impulsive.

Because Ji Xian’an understood clearly that she had lost Qin Zu’s totem and was left with only a pair of mechanical arms. In a “Pillar” governed by such complex rules and unique abilities, in battles between Dependents, Ji Xian’an no longer had much combat strength.

According to the rules of Xiangping Town, the only thing Ji Xian’an could do… was sacrifice.

That was why, back in Shouwang Community, she had acted without restraint—doing everything she could and even things she shouldn’t—just to help Mu Sichen gather information.

That was also why, earlier, before Mu Sichen could stop her, she had taken the initiative to attack the Dependent—to test how combat worked within this domain.

And when she learned that the Path of Metamorphosis required abandoning negative emotions, she was the first to suggest going ahead—so that Mu Sichen could find a way to break through it.

This was the Xiangping-style of sacrifice.

“I don’t want any of my companions to sacrifice themselves,” Mu Sichen stopped her.

Ji Xian’an said, “In Xiangping Town, there is no meaningless sacrifice. I choose to go first because I know you are more capable than I am of breaking the Gate of Dawn. If I were more capable than you, I would not hesitate to push you onto this path to pave the way for me.”

“Actually, I had a better way to sacrifice. I already handed it to you—why won’t you use it?”

Ji Xian’an picked up the ten black cubes she had given Mu Sichen earlier and smiled. “I know your weapon has the ability to seize other people’s emotions. Chi Lian once told me that in Tongzhi Town, you escaped a crisis by taking five emotions from a follower.”

“I originally thought that if I gave you these cubes, you could use my negative emotions as dice. That way, you could walk all the way to the seaside intact.”

“But you refused to use them.”

“So let’s each take a step back and choose a method we can both accept.”

“Either way, we both have to walk this path. Let’s rely on our own abilities—whoever reaches the end first wins. If I go first, isn’t that actually taking advantage?”

Mu Sichen clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly before finally saying, “Fine. You go first.”

Ji Xian’an smiled in relief.

But immediately after, she heard Mu Sichen say, “But I won’t sacrifice you—because I can’t.”

As he spoke, Mu Sichen unbuttoned three buttons of his shirt, revealing the rune on his chest.

This was the promise he had once made with Ji Xian’an.

He had promised to take her back to Xiangping Town. Every word he had spoken had turned into thorny bindings, tightly wrapping around him.

If Ji Xian’an died here, it would mean Mu Sichen had broken that promise.

Those barbed words would pierce through his chest. He might not die—but he would have to endure unbearable pain every moment.

“You…” Ji Xian’an said, confused. “When you made that contract with me, why did you set such a condition?”

She herself only had to endure being unable to leave the Ideal Restaurant and complete the causal chain—but Mu Sichen had staked his life to fulfill the promise. Why?

“Because people from Xiangping Town have too strong a tendency toward self-destruction,” Mu Sichen said. “I want you to value yourselves more. And besides, I’m something like your pseudo-god, right? Someone you trust and believe in. If I can’t protect my followers, then what’s the point of being this pseudo-god?”

“Sacrifice is necessary,” Ji Xian’an said.

Mu Sichen nodded. “I know. If there are things that should be done by me, then even if the chances of survival are slim, I will still do them. But I will value myself more—because I know that if I’m gone, someone will grieve for me.”

“Maybe the person who cared about me the most is no longer in this world. As for others… like He Fei, he might cry for a day or two, then go back to eating, drinking, and living his own life.”

“But years later, when he thinks of me again, there will still be regret and melancholy. That’s the trace a life leaves behind.”

“I can say out loud that I’d feel heartbroken if a companion sacrificed themselves—you might not feel that directly. But now, you should understand: we all feel pain, right?

“Promise me—value yourself. Never give up on your life. As long as you’re alive, there’s still a chance I can save you. But if you die… then there’s truly nothing left.”

Ji Xian’an’s gaze swept over the curse markings on Mu Sichen’s chest. She turned her head away, facing her back to him. “People like you, who live in peaceful worlds, are hopelessly naïve.”

From the very beginning, she hadn’t liked people like Mu Sichen.

They had never seen true despair, never witnessed the terror of god-level monsters, never experienced the hardship of living through a great catastrophe.

Flowers raised in a greenhouse could never understand how biting the cold wind truly was.

But perhaps it was precisely those who lived in beauty who were more willing to cherish it, to hope for it—and to share a bit of their warmth to light up others.

“I won’t die,” Ji Xian’an said, pointing toward the pure white ocean. “Even if I turn into that pile of white foam, you’ll be able to fish me out, right?”

Holding up a white cube, she added, “At least ‘sacrifice’ is white. You can bring this emotion back to Xiangping Town and place it beneath the stone pillar in the central square—offering my final piece of emotional energy to Xiangping.”

With that, Ji Xian’an took out a black cube labeled “Pain” and tossed it onto the ground. It landed on the number 5.

“Not bad luck for the first try,” she smiled, stepping onto the Path of Metamorphosis.

 

This time, there was no invisible barrier blocking her. She smoothly advanced five squares before stopping again at another barrier.

The moment she stepped onto the square, a line of huge text appeared in the air:

[The fortunate traveler receives a reward—your next roll will be tripled!]

“So there are rewards too,” Ji Xian’an turned back to Mu Sichen. “Don’t let your guard down. Where there are rewards, there are punishments. If there’s a multiplier bonus, then there must also be penalties like halving your points or moving backward.”

She was sharing her experience with him.

It turned out she wasn’t blindly reckless—she had simply positioned herself as a blade meant only to charge forward.

Ji Xian’an took out a second “Pain” cube and tossed it. This time, her luck was even better—she rolled the maximum number, 6. Tripled, that became 24.

She advanced 24 squares in one go. Though it was just an empty stretch with no rewards or punishments, covering so much distance at once made it seem like she might reach the end very quickly.

But both Ji Xian’an and Mu Sichen knew—it wouldn’t be that simple.

Sure enough, the moment she stopped, a loud voice echoed across the Path of Metamorphosis:

“Traveler of metamorphosis has used the same ‘taint’ twice consecutively, a severe violation of the rules. All ‘Pain’ taints will be confiscated as a warning.”

The black “Pain” cubes scattered across Ji Xian’an’s body—her head, limbs, and internal organs—fell away all at once. She lost thirty to forty cubes in an instant.

The places where the cubes had been were left empty, with nothing to replace them.

Ji Xian’an began to lose her completeness.

Yet she still calmly told Mu Sichen, “Looks like we underestimated the Path of Metamorphosis. It’s impossible to rely entirely on a single, less important negative emotion to get through. We have to be careful.”

“I understand,” Mu Sichen replied, his voice heavy with restraint and sorrow.

Ji Xian’an had given him invaluable experience.

 

She continued, “I can’t see where the black cubes disappear to—they seem to vanish into the Path itself. I don’t know if they can be preserved or recovered.”

After speaking, Ji Xian’an took out a black cube labeled “Impulsiveness” and gently tossed it.

This time, her luck wasn’t as good—she only rolled a 1 and moved forward by a single step.

It was a black square, a color that seemed to symbolize misfortune.

Sure enough, a line of text appeared within the square:

[While traveling, you accidentally stepped on a pitiful ant, causing it great “pain.” What will you say to the ant?
A. I’m sorry. I will bandage your wound and give you my good qualities to heal your pain.
B. Step on it again, causing it even greater “pain.”]

Most people would be inclined to choose A, since B felt violent and seemed like a trap.

But choosing A meant losing one’s good qualities—even the white cubes would be taken away.

There was no truly “correct” answer.

After a moment of thought, Ji Xian’an chose A.

[Correct answer. You are a child worthy of salvation. You will receive a reward—closer proximity to the Pure White Sea.]

As a result, about fifty of the white cubes on Ji Xian’an’s body fell away, rolling along the Path of Metamorphosis into the sea, merging with countless white foam bubbles—completely indistinguishable.

Ji Xian’an continued to calmly share her observations:

“I’ve lost ten cubes each of ‘Happiness,’ ‘Diligence,’ ‘Family Affection,’ ‘Friendship,’ and ‘Love.’ But fortunately, the one I value most—‘Sacrifice’—hasn’t disappeared. Otherwise, I might not have been able to keep going.”

“When the white cubes sank into the sea, I felt a kind of warmth—like returning to a mother’s embrace. It only lasted for a moment, but it was deeply intoxicating.”

“I feel like I want to experience that sensation again. But to do that, I’d have to give up more white cubes, because the ones that fell into the sea instantly left my control.”

“I can hear the sound of tides in my ears. It feels like something is calling to me—telling me to come closer, that I’ll gain eternal happiness.”

 

“I’m probably being contaminated by ‘Dreams.’ But fortunately, with my rationality, I can still tell it’s false.”

Ji Xian’an took out a black cube labeled “Paranoia” and was about to toss it when Mu Sichen suddenly said, “I can see them.”

She turned to look at him.

Mu Sichen said, “I have the ‘Eye of Truth.’ In that sea, I can see your fifty precious qualities. They still bear your name—they still belong to you. They haven’t drifted away.”

“As long as your sense of self doesn’t disappear, you won’t be drowned by the Pure White Sea.”

A relieved smile appeared on Ji Xian’an’s face.

Mu Sichen could clearly see that—even though she had already lost a portion of herself—
the totem of self, at her chest, was actually shining even brighter.

---

TN:

Hi, long time no time no update, my life has truly been a mess. Possibly triggering content ahead, head on to the next chapter if this bothers you, I just want to explain a bit.

My mum had a mental breakdown, full on psychosis in December, she’s my rock basically and watching her like that broke something in me, she became physically and verbally abusive for a while. I began to dislike her until I realised something was wrong with her mentally, she had to be forcefully admitted but she only stayed for a week because she was deteriorating, she didn’t think anything was wrong with her. I’m with her now, she says she’s fine and she wants to work through it, and it’s been a bit better so I have time to update and try and put my life back together. Thanks for the comments and everything else ♥️.

Onto the next chapters.