Chapter Thirty: The People Within the Ruins

When the nurse returned with water, Yang Fan drank it, feeling as though he had come back to life. This time, the external wounds hardly mattered; it was the internal injuries that would require time to heal. The displacement of his internal organs had already been corrected, but the rest would have to be worn away with patience. The resilience of a second-tier martial artist’s body was quite impressive, but true fortitude of the viscera belonged to those of the fourth tier and above.

After regaining consciousness, Yang Fan checked himself again and found nothing seriously amiss, but he knew he’d best avoid any strenuous activity for a while. The endless hospital tests soon wore down his patience; the atmosphere was stifling, and he could hardly stand it. He began to insist on being discharged, despite the doctors recommending continued observation. Yet Yang Fan was determined to leave, and the doctors, though helpless, could not force him to stay.

He disliked lingering in the hospital for two reasons: firstly, every extra day meant more money, and Yang Fan’s frugal nature would not allow such waste—he could just as well recuperate at the academy. Ouyang Yunlei from the infirmary seemed far more reliable than the hospital doctors. Secondly, he was desperate to visit the Bureau of Cultivator Affairs and ask who the black-robed man was; after all, he had narrowly escaped death at that stranger’s hands.

Packing his things, Yang Fan left the hospital and made his way to the Bureau of Cultivator Affairs.

Luoyang, the ancient capital, had served as the seat of many dynasties throughout history, earning its reputation as the “City of Thirteen Dynasties.” At the Bureau, the same two staff members received him.

“I don’t care about anything else. Just tell me who that black-robed man was. Why did he try to kill me?” Yang Fan asked, his brow furrowed.

“Normally, it wouldn’t be appropriate to disclose such information,” one staff member replied gravely. “But you’re a student at the Cultivation Academy and the victim in this incident. We’ve reported to our superiors, and they’ve agreed to let you know, but you must promise not to share this with anyone.”

“I promise,” Yang Fan said, his expression earnest.

“We have basically confirmed that the man is from the Ruins. As for his purpose, we don’t know. Why he tried to kill you—we have no idea,” the staff member explained.

Yang Fan was stunned, utterly shaken. He knew something about the Ruins: they acted as spatial passages connecting two worlds, one being Earth and the other the Dark Realm. So, a person from the Ruins would be a denizen of the Dark Realm?

“How is that possible? I thought all the countries on Earth had joined forces to block people from the Ruins. How could someone end up here?” Yang Fan pressed.

“We’ve built cities at the entrances to the Ruins to guard against threats from within. But those cities can only fend off large-scale invasions. Occasionally, someone slips through the defenses and crosses the border into Earth—it’s happened before. Still, this is the first time we’ve seen someone so weak from the Ruins, and why he wanted to kill you, we simply don’t know,” the staff member said, clearly baffled. “In the Dark Realm, a second-tier cultivator is nothing more than cannon fodder. Yet somehow, this second-tier Dark Realm denizen made it all the way to Luoyang and targeted you. We just can’t figure it out.”

He’d been just as shocked when he first saw the man last night, barely able to believe his own eyes.

Yang Fan felt a pang of helplessness. A stranger from another world had appeared so inexplicably, materializing on Mount Mang, and then, just as inexplicably, tried to kill him. The whole affair was utterly bewildering.

“Brother, let it go,” the staff member said comfortingly. “There’s nothing you can do about it. Just consider yourself unlucky. At least you’re still alive—otherwise, that would’ve been a real loss.”

But Yang Fan found this comfort hard to swallow. Was this how one was supposed to console another? Where had he learned such a style?

The staff gave Yang Fan some additional instructions, but they were trivial matters. Task completed, Yang Fan departed.

On the train from Luoyang back to Magic City, Yang Fan’s mind remained unsettled. Too many questions plagued him. How had the Dark Realm man arrived here, how had he reached Mount Mang, and why had he hunted Yang Fan? What was the reason? All these mysteries lingered unanswered in his heart.

Ever since learning about the Ruins, Yang Fan had kept an eye out for any news related to them. There were about fifteen Ruins entrances across the country, scattered geographically, though all entry points led to the same location within the Ruins.

That place was reputedly guarded with utmost rigor—even a tenth-tier cultivator could not misbehave there. How, then, had a second-tier Dark Realm man managed to cross over? There was only one Ruins entrance in all of China, located on an island in Chinese territorial waters, thousands of miles from Luoyang. How could someone travel from there to Luoyang?

Yang Fan was utterly at a loss.

Even after the long train ride back to the Cultivation Academy in Magic City, he still hadn’t figured anything out. Arriving at the academy, he submitted his completed task.

His bank card now showed a deposit of 150,000 yuan.

Instantly, all his worries evaporated. For Yang Fan, that sum could last an eternity. Why dwell on unsolvable mysteries? Live in the moment. Since he’d survived this ordeal, nothing else really mattered.

With a light heart, Yang Fan returned to his dormitory.

He was exhausted. After more than ten hours on the train, even a cultivator could feel fatigue. Yang Fan resolved that next time, he’d take a plane—faster and less punishing; besides, he’d never flown before, nor even seen an airplane up close.

As these thoughts played in his mind, Yang Fan drifted off to sleep, lying on his bed.

...

The next morning, Yang Fan assessed his injuries and felt that this slow recovery was a waste of time. He headed to Ouyang Yunlei’s infirmary, convinced she could heal him quickly. After all, a cultivator’s wounds were best treated by another cultivator; relying on ordinary people was not in keeping with the world’s new order.

Entering the infirmary, he found Ouyang Yunlei reading a book. Without looking up, she asked, “What’s wrong?”

Yang Fan replied, “I got some internal injuries on my last mission. I’ve come for your help.”

“Take off your clothes and lie down,” Ouyang Yunlei instructed.

Yang Fan felt a bit embarrassed.

“Just your shirt. Hurry up! Honestly, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before,” she chided, seeing his hesitation.

Yang Fan blushed. Indeed, back on the island, she’d tended to his injured thigh—so why feel shy now?

Despite his reasoning, he still felt awkward as he slowly removed his shirt and lay down.

The infirmary lacked modern equipment—no X-rays, no CT scanners. Ouyang Yunlei simply placed her hand on Yang Fan’s chest, and her aura suddenly surged forth, covering his entire body.

Soon, her aura ceased its flow, and a white light emanated from her being.

Yang Fan felt enveloped in warmth under the white glow. The organs that had occasionally ached now tingled pleasantly.

“Supernatural power,” he thought.

After a short while, the white light faded from Ouyang Yunlei.

“All done. You can put your clothes back on,” she said, withdrawing her hand.

Yang Fan dressed in a flash, much quicker than he’d undressed. Ouyang Yunlei watched, amused.

“Teacher, was that white light just now a supernatural power?” Yang Fan asked as he dressed.

“Yes, a light-type ability,” Ouyang Yunlei replied.

“May I ask, what exactly is a supernatural power? Why have I never seen anyone with such abilities at the Cultivation Academy?” Yang Fan wondered aloud.

He’d heard of Awakened Ones before entering the academy—beings who, at the dawn of spiritual resurgence, suddenly gained immense power and sometimes lost control, committing unspeakable acts. When talents were tested, both cultivation aptitude and the presence of awakened bloodlines were checked.

Yet, after joining the academy, he’d never heard of anyone being an Awakened One.

Yang Fan didn’t consider himself awakened; his lightning ability came from consuming a fruit and was different from the awakened. For them, power surged instantly upon awakening, whereas Yang Fan’s lightning couldn’t even charge a phone at first.

“Awakened Ones aren't at the Cultivation Academy. Their growth differs from cultivators, and the government educates them elsewhere,” Ouyang Yunlei explained.

“Elsewhere? Is it like our academy?” Yang Fan asked.

“More or less. The difference between cultivators and Awakened Ones is fundamental. Cultivators grow stronger step by step; Awakened Ones gain explosive power in an instant, so their education is more complex. I can’t explain the details to you, but you’ll encounter Awakened Ones eventually,” Ouyang Yunlei said, then fell silent.

Yang Fan finished dressing and thanked her. Seeing she didn’t wish to elaborate, he didn’t press further.

He had always known when to stop; only a fool would insist when someone was unwilling to share. Besides, he didn’t care much about the Awakened Ones. His own lightning ability was clear enough to him—it changed as his cultivation advanced. At first, his lightning was too weak to charge a phone. Now, as a second-tier martial artist, its power had increased hundreds of times, enough to incapacitate a second-tier cultivator. Unfortunately, Yang Fan couldn’t project lightning outside his body, unlike Ouyang Yunlei’s light, which could only be transmitted through physical contact.

Leaving the infirmary, Yang Fan found himself at loose ends.

He had only thirty credits from his recently completed task, and his cultivation felt lacking. Zhou Ting had once said the academy would provide all resources for his first and second tier, but in retrospect, that was probably a lie—how could a hundred credits suffice for both tiers’ needs?

But having entered the den, there was little he could do now.

Walking through the Cultivation Academy in Magic City, Yang Fan watched students pass by, and felt a touch of loneliness.