Chapter 89: Cause of the Apocalypse

Chapter 89: The Cause of the Apocalypse

It was understandable that the people in the isolated utopia of Peach Blossom Spring were naively trusting.

After all, in *The Peach Blossom Spring*, the villagers warmly welcomed the fisherman who accidentally wandered in, serving him wine and freshly killed chicken. Here, judging by the furnishings in the house, the locals were clearly better off than those peasant villagers.

Under such circumstances, it seemed plausible that they had been coddled into gullibility.

The catch was, Ji Zichen hadn’t missed their earlier attitude.

Never mind the mother and daughter. The young men who entered afterward hadn’t been nowhere near this friendly when they first came in.

In particular, many of them had locked their gazes on him, their eyes scouting him for weak points—clearly preparing to attack.

The stark contrast in their behavior put him on high alert.

Could it be that, after assessing the situation, they realized they were no match for him and decided to change their approach—first placating him until the authorities arrived, then attacking together?

Ji Zichen’s expression remained calm, but his mind raced with possibilities.

"When you think about it, the Little Emperor really had it rough."

"After a full day of handling state affairs, he washes up and lies down on his imperial bed, ready to sleep—only to suddenly find himself teleported into a closet before he can even close his eyes, almost smothered by a pile of clothes."

"In the original novel, the emperor, upon arriving, didn’t encounter Mother Chang or Chang Zilan. At the time, the house was empty, so after observing his surroundings, he simply slipped away unnoticed. The plot didn’t include this scene."

Chang Zilan froze. She *had* come home early today.

Normally, she would still be at work, but with the recent release of the therapeutic device, her boss had given everyone half a day off in the afternoon so they could line up to buy one.

Since the therapeutic device required either an ID card or household registration to purchase, and she hadn’t brought her ID, she had come back to fetch it.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been home at this hour.

As for Mother Chang, she glanced at the foyer cabinet, where a therapeutic device sat.

She had braved the crowds to secure one and, thinking of her daughter, had rushed over to deliver it. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been here today either.

At the sight of the device, everyone understood the chain of events.

It was all a domino effect. In other words, if not for this sequence of events, the Little Emperor’s arrival might have gone undetected. This realization made the staff instinctively worry—does that mean the changes in reality could affect the accuracy of the prophecy book?

Fortunately, they quickly dismissed these worries as overreaction. Similar incidents had happened before—though never quite this blatant—and there had been signs. None of it had ever interfered with the novel’s predictions.

Besides, even if it *did* affect the prophecy, does that mean Blue Star should stop advancing and developing?

Impossible.

Whether we die now or later, the end result would be the same.

What worried them more was another issue.

Had the Little Emperor come alone this time, or was it like the previous ancient world—a whole world merging? Two worlds combining, or one consuming the other?

Could the impending apocalypse be the result of a botched dimensional merge?

Or is Blue Star the one being devoured—its entire world turned into raw materials for another?

Or perhaps the world fusion went smoothly, and it's purely a human issue.

Martial artists flout the law with their skills.

Jianghu folk are the least compliant with authority. They value settling scores and living free.

Sounds exciting on paper.

But in reality, no matter how noble the rhetoric, such actions are illegal. Killing on a whim is illegal, even if the victim is truly wicked—such matters should be reported to the police for handling.

Shaking people down for protection money or tolls is also illegal. How is this any different from organized crime?

Not to mention martial artists frequently sneaking into palaces at night or infiltrating mansions and estates. Try that now—even without stealing, it’s breaking and entering.

Then there are the unique traits of the martial world: demonic cults, evil sects, and even so-called righteous figures who treat human lives as worthless. After the worlds merge, it’s obvious what depraved shit they’d pull to seize territory and expand their influence.

Compared to others with martial skills, the ordinary people of Sky Blue Planet are like easy pickings.

Even if Sky Blue Planet’s authorities possess high-tech gear and guns, they’d struggle to cover every angle in a sudden crisis.

Moreover, if people from both worlds intermingle, heavy firepower becomes unusable—otherwise, allies might be killed before enemies.

The staff’s hearts sank deeper the more they thought about it. Even the initial excitement over potentially obtaining martial arts manuals faded entirely.

Sheng Qingquan had no idea the others had already considered such distant consequences. As he read the novel, he felt worse for the Little Emperor.

"In the original story, after the Little Emperor ventured outside, he quickly adapted to modern life. He deliberately mimicked passersby, changing how he talked and walked to fit in."

"He even found a traditional medicine shop and sold a prescription to the owner. Not only did he earn money, but he also convinced the owner that he wished to remain anonymous, afraid of being hounded or strong-armed. That’s why he refused to provide ID for a contract or use the convenience of online transfers—instead taking partial cash and an untraceable prepaid card."

"The owner was convinced the Little Emperor had more valuable prescriptions. To leave a good impression and secure future deals, he accommodated every request."

"In less than two days, the Little Emperor had earned enough money, acquired a fake identity, changed into modern clothing, and settled in smoothly."

"Things were smooth—but he was still a fish out of water."

"His martial arts display was caught on CCTV."

"Normally, nobody checks random CCTV. But he was unlucky, and the one who noticed him wasn’t ordinary. No matter how skilled the Little Emperor was, he still walked into a trap."

"He was cautious—fearing traps, he avoided touching any projectiles thrown at him. But he didn’t realize the projectiles were designed for him not to catch them."

"The so-called 'hidden weapons' were actually inhalable anesthetic pellets. Upon shattering on impact, the gas knocked him out cold. Ji Zichen had never encountered anything like this—it was entirely different from the knockout drugs he’d trained against."

"The stuff worked scarily fast. The Little Emperor was subdued instantly, with most of the prepared pellets unused."

"His captors didn’t know he was from the past—they only knew he possessed legendary martial arts. They plotted to grab him and wring the secrets out of him."

"Initially, after discovering Ji Zichen had sold prescriptions, they considered buying them."

"But who knew if he’d even sell? And if he did, it’d cost an arm and a leg. Who wouldn’t hesitate before parting with such a fortune?"

"While they wavered, they uncovered Ji Zichen’s fake identity."

"That settled it—those with underworld experience no longer hesitated. No ID? Nobody’d miss him."

"To force the truth from Ji Zichen, they injected him with muscle relaxants to paralyze him. Then came more torture to break him—before finally pumping him full of truth serum."

"These people were convinced that this would allow them to obtain the secret manual."

"And indeed, they did get it. But what they didn’t expect was that the manual Ji Zichen gave them was rigged."

"Despite being a spoiled emperor, Ji Zichen was still a martial artist. He had suffered plenty during training, so he possessed considerable willpower."

"Moreover, while soul-hijacking arts were rare in the martial world, the imperial family, aware of such methods, had taken precautions. Royal descendants were taught a Taoist technique from childhood to guard their spiritual core. Though the truth serum had some effect on him, he managed to retain a shred of awareness."

"That shred of awareness proved crucial."

"He noticed that every time they questioned him, they attached a device to him. Ji Zichen shrewdly deduced that it might be a lie detector. After several attempts, he realized that while the machine could detect lies, its mechanism for determining falsehoods was rigid—primarily based on heart rate."

"Even under the influence of the drug, controlling his heart rate wasn’t particularly difficult for him."

"Besides, the manual he provided was indeed a genuine combat text—powerful and capable of rapid mastery, perfectly meeting their demands."

"There was just one catch."

"Practicing this martial art required medicinal baths as a supplement. Without them, practitioners would eventually suffer qi deviation—first descending into madness, attacking indiscriminately, then ultimately exploding in a violent death—blood gushing from every orifice. Without exception."

The listeners shuddered, now realizing how the apocalypse began.

With so many people on Tianlanxing, how could everyone be a saint? Even with the government’s strictest crackdowns, some dark corners remained untouched.

Or, even if cleansed, new evils would soon sprout again.

Even within the authorities, rotten eggs persisted—just last month, several corrupt officials had been exposed.

People were unpredictable. Complete eradication was impossible; only constant vigilance could mitigate it.

And Ji Zichen, as an emperor, had been reduced to a prisoner and subjected to such treatment—how could he not seek revenge?

Honestly, who could blame him? Even an ordinary person in his place would have made the same choice.

Likely, the manual had later been leaked.

A scramble for it broke out, and as more people practiced it, the madness multiplied, sending society into freefall.

"Ji Zichen was cautious. The manual he chose wasn’t a quick poison—it took two or three years of practice, when the martial arts had reached a minor level of mastery, for the backlash to hit."

"After obtaining the manual, those people saw results within two or three months. Using these early gains, they showed off its power to others, trading the manual for greater benefits."

"It spread through back-alley deals, whispered to family members, spilled by loose lips, or auctioned on the black market... By the time the first batch of practitioners lost their minds, many across the nation had already learned the techniques."

"And this manual wasn’t something one could simply abandon midway. Stopping practice only delayed the inevitable—the madness would still come."

"Eventually, the world descended into chaos."

"At first, it was about the manual. Later, it was the sheer number of people suffering qi deviation, wreaking havoc everywhere. Even when the authorities realized something was wrong and tried to contain them, it was too late."

"Under the truth serum, after revealing the manual, Ji Zichen made sure to mention that mastering the techniques required guidance—otherwise, one might screw it up. So, even when those people succumbed to qi deviation, they never suspected the manual itself was the problem."

"Ji Zichen said this to ensure they wouldn’t kill him after extracting the manual, making them believe he was still useful."

"Ironically, Ji Zichen taught them convincingly, even sharing the occasional pointer. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have progressed so quickly."

"Originally, Ji Zichen’s plan was to string them along while plotting his escape."

"The plan was moving forward smoothly. At the very least, he had gradually earned their trust. From initially being tightly restrained and unable to move during the teaching sessions, it wasn’t long before he could walk freely around the room."

"But before Ji Zichen could take the next step, he was sent back."

"He disappeared without a trace, leaving those who reviewed the surveillance footage startled. Since they had already learned the martial arts techniques and could continue practicing on their own, they shrugged it off."

"It wasn’t until the first person suffered from cultivation backlash that they recalled Ji Zichen’s warning, assuming it was due to a lack of guidance in their training."

"Only as madness spread among them did they begin to suspect that the manual itself was flawed."

He really went back?!

Everyone was floored, their focus locked onto that detail. Whatever Sheng Qingquan said afterward barely registered in their minds.

However, they quickly realized that, setting aside the original story, this was almost the best possible outcome.

After all, Ji Zichen was an emperor. His vanishing act would throw things into chaos in his world.

Staying here, where feudalism had long been abolished, would be problematic. The government wouldn’t let anyone turn back the clock and attempt to restore imperial rule.

Even though Ji Zichen appeared intelligent, it was precisely his intelligence that made him a greater risk.

What if, after familiarizing himself with the environment, he still sought to claim territory and crown himself?

The authorities could handle it, but why invite extra headaches?

If handled well, a short-term stay wouldn’t be a disaster but an opportunity for both sides.

With this in mind, they turned up the hospitality.

"The police haven’t arrived yet, and standing is tiring. Why don’t we sit down for a while?" A staff member gestured toward the living room sofa, inviting Ji Zichen to take a seat—even though it wasn’t their place.

Since this was her home, Chang Zilan felt even more at ease. "Are you thirsty? I’ll pour you some juice. Oh, wait—back in your day, you called it ‘thirst-water’ or ‘drink-brew,’ yeah?"

"Are you hungry? I can cook something for you. What do you like? Do you eat beef?" Chang’s mother added, already reaching for an apron. "No worries, it’s not working cattle. The beef here comes from cattle raised for meat. And we don’t use oxen for plowing anymore."

Playing it cool, Ji Zichen scoped things out while also keeping a close eye on their expressions.

Had he not confirmed that none of them possessed internal energy—making no way to whisper mind-to-mind—their rapid shifts in emotion would have been baffling. Sympathy, shock, realization, understanding—all subtly concealed but not escaping his notice.

Their faces cycled through emotions like a slot machine, and what really threw him was that this wasn’t just one or two individuals but everyone present.

It made him suspect they were using some sneaky way to plot against him in plain sight, relying on his inability to hear.

And whatever method it was, it had to be ruthless.

Otherwise, why the pity looks if they meant him harm?

Though he couldn’t quite grasp why understanding was part of their emotional spectrum, their eager grins and fussing just put him more on edge.

Fortunately, right then, the cops—well, government agents—showed up.

Seeing the officials, Sheng Qingquan had expected this. The moment he had identified Ji Zichen’s identity, he had used his plant-link to the capital, looping in the top brass while reading the novel.

Thus, everything he knew had been simultaneously shared with them.

Upon entering and seeing Ji Zichen, the officials cut to the chase.

They immediately showed their IDs to prove who they were.

"I know these might not be enough to convince you."

"After all, even if they're real, you're new here and wouldn’t know real from fake."

"But look, Your Majesty, if I told you that you'll automatically return soon, and your time here is running out—so let’s not waste it on pointless stuff—would you believe me, Ji Zichen?"

When addressed as "Your Majesty," Ji Zichen remained composed, as his attire easily revealed his status.

But when they called him by his name, his face fell.

"You expected me?"

"What’s really happening here?"

"Did you bring me here?"

This time, Ji Zichen blurted out three questions in a row.