Chapter 62 When I woke up, you were back to being my Pingyu...
If invading one's consciousness is likened to a surprise visit, then what he's doing now is burglary. In his vision, the girl's eyes gradually glazed over. Through contact, crimson spiritual energy brutally crashed into Ping Yu's consciousness.
She returned to her empty spiritual realm once more, but this time it was different from before. Pingyu, who had collapsed to the ground, saw the boy standing in front of her.
Nezha, using his spiritual power to wrap a wisp of his primordial spirit, forcibly pried open Ping Yu's sea of consciousness. Because it wasn't his true primordial spirit, it appeared somewhat illusory. Even this wisp of divine power was something Ping Yu couldn't withstand. She hurriedly stood up and tried to grab him: "Nezha!"
He took a half-step forward, but was blocked.
A sharp pain shot through her forehead; her nose had almost been knocked crooked from the impact! From the point of impact, a red wave spread out, outlining the entire barrier. Four walls blocked her way, and the top was sealed off. Her range of movement was extremely limited, confined to the small area beneath her feet. Pingyu slammed her fist against the wall in front of her; she knew Nezha could hear her. The girl shouted angrily again, "Nezha, let me out!"
Damn it, whose sea of consciousness is this? How can its master be so incompetent?!
Just as she expected, Nezha turned around with a twitch of his ear. He stood before Pingyu, the two separated only by a wall. Nezha looked at her as if she were a cat in a box.
He reassured her, "If you can move, things will get complicated. Don't worry, I'll just take a look and then leave."
“This is the most important thing,” he said earnestly to Ping Yu. “You are the most important.”
"I don't want to drag this out with you."
She was startled by the gaze directed at her and felt somewhat at a loss.
What does this mean?
Am I the most important...?
For a fleeting moment, she saw Nezha's kind attitude towards her, and the subtle emotions were as elusive as downy feathers.
Pingyu was only a second late in not asking further questions, so Nezha ignored her.
He moved swiftly and went straight to the gates of hell.
Upon seeing the door, the boy's brow twitched. It was indeed different from what he had first seen, especially the crystal panel embedded in the door's surface. In this era, there was no concept of glass; looking at the panel, clearer than a bronze mirror, he curiously reached out to touch it.
The surface is smooth and has a cool touch.
Could it be made of pearls and jade?
His fumbling hand happened to touch the power switch on the edge of the tablet. The pitch-black screen suddenly lit up, and the interface of the modern system popped up. The characters on the panel seemed to be tailored to the user, changing from simplified Chinese to oracle bone script. Nezha asked in surprise, as if to himself, "What is this...?"
He had never seen this object in anyone else's consciousness.
The material of its shell resembled meteorite iron, yet it was lighter and purer. Nezha recalled the feeling he had just experienced; it seemed he had touched a switch that had caused the crystalline surface to light up. Sliding his gaze to the side, he indeed saw a small protrusion near the edge of the surface.
For example, the Bagua Mirror, after being infused with spiritual power, also has the ability to probe its surroundings. But the crystalline surface that lit up before my eyes was different. The image it presented did not belong to any one place; it was simply a flat, painting-like surface, and the words on it were not written in one stroke, but were composed of tiny squares.
If Pingyu were here, he could tell him that this is called a pixel.
She recalled the countdown on the interface earlier; the time to enter the modern room had already run out, so Nezha was unable to enter.
With that, she felt relieved.
Now, all I have to do is think about how to make up a lie to fool the tablet.
But things are not that simple.
Nezha's question was recorded by the tablet's microphone, and the screen opened a blank window automatically without him having to lift a finger.
Amidst the sound of typing, the cursor uttered a sentence:
I am the [Simplified Operating System of Ghost Gate, specially designed for short and illiterate people]
Nezha didn't recognize simplified Chinese characters, and he was still a child.
Therefore, the system's venomous tongue not only hurt Pingyu, but also insulted Nezha.
He repeated briefly in a flat tone: "A short, illiterate man?"
The cursor paused for a moment, sensing danger, then immediately changed its tune: "If there's any danger, feel free to ask me, I'll answer it for you right away."
Cowardly yet talkative, is he truly a product of Ping Yu's consciousness?
Nezha chuckled almost imperceptibly.
Discovering that it could communicate via voice, he continued, "Open the door for me."
Looking at the words above, Nezha thought he hadn't guessed wrong.
The door really can be opened.
What did she see behind the door that made her choose to keep it from him?
When asked about the language vulnerabilities of tablets, he retorted, "I didn't experience them; I wasn't the one experiencing them."
The tablet is stuck.
"If the experience is obtained by exchanging ghosts and monsters, then I should also enjoy this privilege. After all, I was also involved in the demon-slaying operation."
The tablet remained silent.
Nezha finally asked, "What do you think?"
The tablet was convinced!
Since Pingyu is a team that fights demons, her teammates and she should have equal access to the game.
The cursor resumed blinking, and the last line of text was revealed to Nezha:
[You are being granted trial access.]
[Time limit: 30 minutes. Please wait.]
As his gaze finished reading the last word, the door began to open.
The moment the door was moved open, it shook violently, causing even the entire sea of consciousness to tremble. The celestial river water on the ground trembled, raising layers of high water droplets and waves. Ping Yu, who had been sitting back on the ground dejectedly, stared in disbelief at the familiar sight.
"Why!?"
She exclaimed in disbelief, "Didn't the countdown end? Why was Nezha allowed in?!"
No one answered, but Nezha had already seen the scene that Ping Yu had just witnessed, just as he had wished.
Nezha didn't understand even the Arabic numerals on the countdown; he simply entered the light membrane.
The room that comes into view is clean and tidy.
Compared to the lavish decor of the Lin and Li families, this house even looked like a bare shell. Under the minimalist style, Nezha saw many things that he could not understand.
There are no bones, bronzes, gold, agate, or rare treasures here.
The floor was made of wood, smooth, dark in color, and with clear grain. Each plank fit together tightly, covering the entire floor. Rare paper items seemed commonplace here; piles of books, pamphlets, and scrolls were everywhere… Nezha randomly flipped open one and found that even he couldn't understand the writing inside.
Instead of a table, what's used here is a board supported by a pillar.
There was no futon in sight; the object he could sit on was a structure Nezha had never seen before. Sitting on it, he even felt a tendency to relax his waist and hips.
Nezha went to the dressing table and faced the mirror.
Although the mirror did not reflect his image, Nezha was unaffected, for he knew he was merely a wisp of his primordial spirit. To the boy's surprise, the mirror was even clearer than a stream, capable of reflecting everything perfectly, a quality unmatched by any mirror of his time.
He, like Ping Yu, saw the person on the bed in the mirror.
Upon getting closer, Nezha felt a tremor in his heart.
Although Pingyu was young, the person on the bed looked seven or eight parts like her, and it was clear that this was what the girl would look like when she grew up.
Why is her body here too?
It has no soul.
This is an empty shell, a soul that has left.
And the soul of the girl on the bed is there, which must be obvious at a glance.
Although young, he had read extensively under the tutelage of Taiyi Zhenren and Li Jing. While most of his reading focused on military strategy and esoteric arts, he also dabbled in other subjects. Nothing in Pingyu's room was within Nezha's knowledge. It wasn't just the empty shells and the unusual materials of the ornaments; more importantly, he couldn't understand the writing on them. He was proficient in astronomy, the language of demons, and even oracle bone script. But he couldn't understand a single character on the scrolls in this room.
This place is full of things that Nezha doesn't understand.
Since Pingyu wanted to hide it, it proved that she understood everything here and could read every word.
Moreover, this is clearly the place where the girl on the tatami mat, who bears a striking resemblance to Hirayu, lived.
This realization filled Nezha with apprehension.
It was as if something was about to reveal the surface and escape his plans.
The sea of consciousness cannot produce things that the owner has never seen, meaning it cannot imagine them and relies solely on factual accounts.
Nezha exited from the light membrane.
He remembered that before going in, the mysterious sign said: "After collecting all the demons and ghosts, you can exchange for permanent access!"
No wonder I couldn't find her anywhere in Chentang Pass.
The boy's face was gloomy as he paced toward where Ping Yu was.
The room behind the door was clearly not a product of this place.
The body on the bed had no soul, and together with the body she now possessed, she could only make one choice.
Her body was now an empty shell, as if she were dead; he would never find her again.
Since Pingyu wanted to keep it a secret, she should say that she already had the answer in her heart.
She wanted to choose the side behind the door.
Why?
He thought.
Mingming Pingyu was Xue Yue'e's child, born after ten months of pregnancy. How did she come into contact with that kind of world?
In an instant, all the strange things about Pingyu were suddenly revealed to Nezha:
She never killed indiscriminately; she showed compassion to both bad and good people.
He was extremely opposed to human sacrifice, and even when he was seriously ill, he strictly forbade his parents from using slaves as sacrifices to heaven.
Sometimes they act unlike typical children, knowing much more than others their own age...
All these incongruities caused Nezha's emotions to somewhat collapse.
He finally walked up to Pingyu and looked at the girl's uneasy expression.
"Nezha...?"
When Nezha came face to face with the girl, the gloom on his face had vanished. Only his expressionless features remained, frozen as if sculpted from ice. She called out tentatively, but received no response. With a wave of his hand, the spiritual energy surrounding her dissipated. Trembling with fear, she cautiously took his hand.
"you......"
His inorganic gaze scrutinized her, surprisingly calm: "Who exactly are you?"
"I'm Pingyu..." she replied, then, clinging to a sliver of hope, asked, "You... saw what was behind the door?"
"Um."
He nodded: "Don't you have anything to say to me?"
She had just started to speak when the boy stopped her with a muttered remark: "Never mind, it's not important."
A crimson light flashed in the other's eyes again, and he gripped the other's head like an eagle's claw. He tightened his grip, causing Pingyu to gasp in pain. Nezha, however, seemed oblivious, and smiled at her. He always remembered not to speak harshly to Pingyu, and said in a soft, gentle voice, "No matter who you are, you won't remember."
All we need to do is erase the image behind the door from the other person's mind, and then none of the unknown things in the future will happen.
Pingyu realized something was wrong, and she struggled to grab Nezha's hand: "What are you doing? Li Nezha, I'm warning you, don't go crazy!"
Pingyu will not be angry with him, nor will she remember his actions.
They can still be best friends, and grow up to be an enviable couple.
Her smiling eyes curved even wider, so sweet they seemed to ooze honey.
Her face was pale, her lips red, yet the boy seemed like the most ferocious ghost, chilling her to the bone. Spiritual energy surged from Nezha's palm, filling her head with heat. Altering a mortal's memories was effortless for Nezha; he ignored Pingyu's resistance and answered in his usual tone:
"A good night's sleep will do the trick."
"When you wake up, you'll be back to being my Pingyu."
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