Chapter 56: Helpless Before Shattering Delusion (Part One)

Following the direction Su Ying’s mother indicated, I gazed ahead, only to be met with a vast expanse of swirling mist. Gradually, an ancient blood-red bridge emerged from the haze, its outline becoming clear before me. Step by step, I walked toward the blood-colored bridge.

Behind me, Su Ying’s mother fell silent. With a single stride, she mounted the head of the blood serpent, which let out a thunderous hiss before plunging into the boundless mist and vanishing from sight.

A thousand questions welled up inside me, and endless doubts, but in this moment, I had no idea where to seek the answers. The spiritual energy around me kept my mind exceptionally lucid. Just then, Tu must have sensed the departure of the blood serpent and Su Ying’s mother, for he appeared at once. Now the size of an infant, Tu sat suspended in the void, greedily gulping down the thick spiritual energy that filled the air. His entire little body became crystalline, his skin glowing with a rosy translucence.

“Master, why don’t we cultivate here for a while before leaving?” Tu asked, his expression hungry and eager. I was at a loss for words. Indeed, this might be a perfect place for cultivation, but my heart was still tied to Xiyue, and to my primary school Chinese teacher, Zhao Wen—how were they now?

The thought of them made me anxious to leave as soon as possible. “Tu, let’s just go,” I said.

Tu took deep breaths of the terrifying spiritual energy and then replied softly, “Very well, Master. To be honest, I feel as if someone is watching us, and this place is truly strange.”

I had felt the same, perhaps even more keenly than Tu. Taking a step forward, I prepared to set foot on the blood-red Bridge of Forgetfulness.

There are many legends about the Bridge of Forgetfulness, but I had never seen it with my own eyes. Before me was a red stone bridge, weathered and ancient, shrouded in thick, swirling mist. The scene felt unreal, as though I stood between illusion and reality. Perhaps that was the true nature of the Bridge of Forgetfulness.

“Master, let’s go,” Tu urged. “We might as well use this bridge to glimpse your past and present lives. Though this isn’t the true Bridge of Forgetfulness, it can still reveal them to you.”

“This isn’t the true Bridge of Forgetfulness?” I echoed. Hearing Tu’s words, I felt a shiver of apprehension. Yet if this was not the genuine bridge, why was it called by that name?

“Yes, Master. The Bridge of Forgetfulness is a supreme treasure of the Netherworld. All the ghosts and wandering souls in this world actually originate from the Netherworld, and the real bridge lies deep within its spacetime,” Tu explained.

“Go on…” I pressed, sensing that Tu had regained many memories after absorbing the spiritual energy.

“The power of the true Bridge of Forgetfulness is beyond measure. If this were truly the bridge itself, there’s no way we could approach it in our current state. It is filled with countless fragments of universal law, embodying the rules of both this world and the Netherworld, and is imbued with infinite might. The bridge’s spirit was born from the purest yin energy of heaven and earth—a being so powerful that ordinary people can neither approach nor see it.

I recall that in ancient times, the Elder of Yin and Yang once tried to enter the Netherworld to rescue someone, but was stopped outside the realm by the Bridge of Forgetfulness. The Elder was ranked among the immortals of old, yet even he was helpless before the bridge. He told us that the Bridge of Forgetfulness was the very gateway of the Netherworld, containing too many of its laws.”

Standing before the blood-red bridge, listening to Tu’s account, I was filled with awe. The world was indeed more mysterious and wondrous than any novel could convey. The mention of the Immortal Ranking piqued my curiosity.

“So, Tu, does that mean there’s an Immortal Ranking in this world? Those on the list are true immortals?” I asked.

Tu pondered a moment before replying, “Yes, but these days, fewer people cultivate, and the distinctions between levels have become blurred. The once strict hierarchies have faded and transformed into the arts of yin and yang. In fact, those techniques originated from the countless spells the immortals once wielded. Today, even a master of yin and yang is but a novice compared to the lowest cultivators of old. Only those who can comprehend the laws of heaven and earth and rule over their own small worlds are qualified to compete for a place on the Immortal Ranking. Such people are rare now, and they may not even know of the ranking itself. Above it lies the legendary Immortal Realm—whether it still exists, no one knows. After the Great Chaos, countless worlds were destroyed.”

The enormity of Tu’s revelations left me momentarily stunned.

“What we see here is only a phantom reflection of the Bridge of Forgetfulness. It seems that when a master from the Buddhist realm once entered the Netherworld, he used this Buddhist painting to record the bridge’s form.”

Gazing at the blood-red, ancient stone bridge before me, I sighed, realizing it was not the Bridge of Forgetfulness I had imagined.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped onto the red stone bridge. Tu’s words had left me even more astonished, for I could not begin to imagine what my future or past lives might have been.

I once read in an ancient scripture—a Buddhist classic—about the Stone of Three Lifetimes, which described the mysteries of past, present, and future lives, yet no one truly knows what those lives are.

In today’s world, where technology advances at an astonishing pace, few people still believe in spirits or gods, let alone the existence of such extraordinary things. No one cares for their next life; all that matters is the present.

With each step, I felt the blood-red bridge beneath my feet begin to fade, dissolving bit by bit until it vanished into endless nothingness.

“Master, don’t look down!” Tu cried out, just as a shudder ran through me and I felt myself about to fall into the boundless void.