FIMA Ch177: Conclusion [Part 1]

The boundless dragon-like weapon carried an overwhelming aura as it clashed fiercely in midair with the consciousness of the Lingting secret realm.

The spiritual power spilling out from that collision nearly seemed enough to shatter heaven and earth. Even the surrounding air felt as though it might ignite.

Gu Siyuan stared upward, his gaze calm.

Xiao Qi’s face was deathly pale.

Because the thing he had declared impossible was truly happening.

Reality often worked like that.

The very things one most desperately did not want to happen in one’s subconscious were often the things most certain to occur.

This was not some terrible curse laid upon mankind. Rather, the reason such subconscious dread existed in the first place was because signs had long been present already—only people, from the bottom of their hearts, had refused to believe them, and so instinctively ignored or blocked them out.

A dazzling flash of light streaked across the air.

At the same time, there came a soft crack—like a young sprout being torn from the soil. The Lingting secret realm fully manifested in the air and was then forcibly tilted and shifted toward another side.

Inside the secret realm, the Xiao family members felt as if heaven and earth had been overturned, their bodies losing all stability.

But of course, the ones who suffered the greatest shock were not them.

It was the two Body Integration great powers from the Spirit Realm who had already entered the pillar-like passage of light.

Because the destination point had suddenly changed and deviated from its predetermined trajectory, the passage of light in outer space also tilted and bent slightly.

Truly only slightly. So slightly it was nearly invisible.

But the Dao of space was originally something so stable and so powerful that even the tiniest alteration in the middle of transit would immediately rebound onto those inside the passage with the most violent possible cost.

Gu Siyuan looked at the two faces that had originally appeared at the far end of the passage.

Those faces, once proud and disdainful, now twisted with rage and fury. Their lips moved ceaselessly, though who knew what curses they were spewing.

He watched as they were swept up by spatial storms.

Watched as both body and soul were shredded into piece after piece.

And in the end, nothing remained.

The summoned targets were gone.

The light-pillar passage connecting the two worlds also began to flicker uncertainly, gradually blurring, and finally, in the end, disappeared completely into the heavens like a shooting star, leaving not the slightest trace behind.

As though everything that had just happened had been nothing more than a dream.

But of course, it was not a dream.

At the very least, the Lingting secret realm—which had already been moved and displaced—would not mistake it for a dream. Nor would all the Xiao family disciples, who had already lost their blood essence and spiritual power through the sacrifice and then died from the backlash when it was interrupted midway.

Inside the secret realm, only Xiao Qi remained standing there blankly, like a sculpture with no consciousness.

It was one thing for ten thousand years of waiting and preparation to vanish in a single morning.

But to think that their final absolute blow—paid for with the sacrifice of their entire clan and even their own lives—would also end in such a fashion…

More importantly, it had also caused the deaths of two Body Integration powers of the Xiao family in the Spirit Realm. The Xiao family had never been anything but a small, insignificant clan there to begin with, surviving only because a few old ancestors upheld it. After this, it was not difficult to imagine that the entire Xiao family would soon become meat in others’ eyes, stray dogs waiting to be devoured.

Faced with such an ending, it would be hard for anyone to bear.

By contrast, Gu Siyuan was in rather a good mood. Several faint traces of a smile curved his usually cold face as he said into the command token at his waist, “That’s enough.”

“Alright!” Xie Xueyi immediately answered, and what followed was an endless storm of rainbow-fart praise. “Gege, you’re incredible, absolutely incredible! Not only did you solve the problem, you even turned it around and got rid of those two old bastards too!”

His voice was obviously full of delight and excitement.

Clatter, clatter, clatter—

At that moment, a continuous series of clear, crisp impacts rang through heaven and earth as the great artifact-dragon slowly began to come apart again, breaking into streaks of light that flew back into the hands of their respective masters.

Gu Siyuan looked up at Xiao Qi. “Are you going to come out on your own, or simply kill yourself?”

Hearing Gu Siyuan’s words, Xiao Qi seemed at last to recover a fragment of his soul.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze nailed to Gu Siyuan. “Hahaha… haha… you thieving old heavens, if you already gave birth to me, why did you have to give birth to him as well?”

The instant those words fell, he raised a hand and struck his own forehead with a palm.

Blood instantly streamed out from all seven orifices of his face, and the white-robed figure crashed to the ground with a bang.

Gu Siyuan watched the scene, his eyes narrowing slightly, yet his expression remained just as cold as ever, with hardly the slightest change.

“Oh? Dead already!”

A bright and pleasant voice rang out beside him—not from the communication token this time, but at his side.

Gu Siyuan turned his head and saw Xie Xueyi, dusty from travel and looking somewhat disheveled. “You got here this fast. Used an escape talisman?”

Xie Xueyi nodded proudly. “Mm. I had to personally see this old dog’s carefully calculated schemes all fail. Isn’t that interesting? I originally wanted to throw out a few good insults too, but who knew his mental resilience was this poor…”

“Exactly. We came back specifically to see this old dog’s basket draw water from an empty well!”

“But this is way too weak. With this little backbone, how was he supposed to be a final villain?”

Voices from nearby kept echoing in agreement.

Gu Siyuan looked at the figures appearing one after another behind Xie Xueyi and, rarely enough, felt a little helpless.

Escape talismans involved the laws of space and had always been the rarest of all talismans. For ordinary cultivators, obtaining even one was exceedingly difficult.

And yet these people had used them just to come back in time to watch someone make a fool of himself.

At that moment, perhaps because all their masters were dead, the previously sealed gate of the Lingting secret realm suddenly swung wide open.

Spiritual energy slightly denser than that of the outside world slowly spilled out through it.

Xie Xueyi tilted his head. “This time it should really be over, right? Don’t tell me it’s still going to keep dribbling on endlessly.”

Gu Siyuan reached out and pinched his cheek. “There’s one more thing to do before it’s truly finished.”

“Mm?” Xie Xueyi blinked, then suddenly, feeling the spiritual energy washing toward him, reacted and pulled a black object from his spatial ring. “Right, right. We still have to undo the sealing formation.”

Gu Siyuan took it from him.

It was the Black Dragon Spike.

The Xiao family of the Lingting secret realm had spent nearly ten thousand years preparing it, intending to use it to break the sealing formation on the ascension passage and return to the Spirit Realm.

But in the end, Xie Xueyi had stolen it out.

Now, the Xiao family was dead to the last member, and even the two Body Integration powers from the Spirit Realm had died as well.

From this day onward, even if cultivators of Canglan Continent ascended to the upper world, they would no longer face any threat.

Canglan Continent was about to regain the flourishing cultivation age it had lost ten thousand years ago.

…

Beep… beep…

Inside the white and icy-cold room of the research institute, an ice-blue electronic display suddenly emitted a sound. “Mental power data restored. Test result: Excellent.”

Ying Ze, seated in front of the monitors, froze for a moment.

Then his eyes widened abruptly as he realized something.

He almost jumped as he spun around to look toward the nutrient chamber at the side.

And in the very next moment, he met a pair of familiar eyes—calm, sharp, and intelligent.

His mouth fell open as he cried out in delight, “Old Gu…”

“Old Gu, you’re finally awake!”

A flood of information from several worlds suddenly rushed into Gu Siyuan’s mind, complicated and dense, and his black brows, sharp as swords, lifted slightly.

Ying Ze, however, turned from joy to alarm in an instant, his heart skipping. “Old Gu, are you feeling unwell? Sleeping that long might leave aftereffects—”

Gu Siyuan shook his head, his voice cool. “I’m fine. Aren’t all the data for my body right there in front of you?”

Ying Ze gave a laugh and glanced toward the cold figures on the electronic screen. Sure enough, all of the indicators were extremely stable—honestly healthier even than he himself was, and he could still run and jump around just fine.

At once, all his old joking attitude toward this strict boss and friend came flooding back. “Fine, fine. You’re the most rational and clear-headed person around. You’re not the type to joke about your health, so I can’t even be bothered trying to manage you.”

Gu Siyuan ignored him after that. Reaching out, he pressed the button beside the chamber door, then stepped directly out of the nutrient tank.

He took a few steps, stopped by a nearby workbench, casually picked up a specially prepared nutrient solution, and tilted his head back to drink it.

Because he had been meticulously maintained throughout his sleep, his body remained fit and upright. As he swallowed, his long neck lifted slightly, and the pronounced Adam’s apple at his throat moved up and down—so absurdly sexy it was almost criminal.

Ying Ze stole glances at him.

And once again, he could not help sighing inwardly: Old Gu really was the absolute male god. Even after being injured and sleeping for so long, he was still calm as though he had merely woken from an ordinary nap, still noble and elegant as ever, beautiful from afar but untouchable.

A godlike person like this—it was no wonder little classmate Xie had been so…

Thinking of that, he quickly opened the communicator on his wrist and, like a guilty thief, began tapping out a message.

“Who are you contacting?”

A cold, low voice rang out almost right beside his ear, its texture like metal and carved jade.

“Little classmate Xie, of course,” Ying Ze answered absentmindedly.

Then he instantly clapped a hand over his own mouth.

This was truly the end of him.

Ying Ze slowly raised his head.

Gu Siyuan was standing only two steps away, staring steadily at him.

Ying Ze immediately slapped off the glowing communicator screen. He did not even dare reply to the message anymore, and instead said with guilty flattery, “Old Gu…”

Gu Siyuan gave a light cough and asked quietly, “Where is he now?”

“Ah?” Ying Ze looked blank.

Gu Siyuan frowned, and his tone turned a little colder. “I’m asking you, where is Xie Qingxiao now?”

Ying Ze was stunned for quite a while before he finally realized what was going on.

With narrowed little eyes, he looked at Gu Siyuan and grinned in a badly intentioned way. “Old Gu, are you asking about little classmate Xie?”

Gu Siyuan said, “What else?”

Ying Ze could tell from that tone that this was not a friendly mood at all, and for once his colleague-love kicked in. Delighted at someone else’s misfortune, he still threw out a warning. “Old Gu, not that I’m saying anything, but what happened before really wasn’t little classmate Xie’s fault. And these past days, it’s thanks to the treatment suggestions he gave that you recovered this quickly…”

“I know.” Gu Siyuan cast him a glance, then asked again in that cold voice, word by word, “So where is he?”

Ying Ze instantly wilted. His joking spirit was gone, and he answered dryly, “At XX Hotel. I think today is the engagement banquet for his younger brother, Zhuang Ming.”

“Good.”

Gu Siyuan nodded once, then immediately turned and strode toward the door.

He was the owner of the institute and possessed the highest authority in all matters. There was no need for verification of any kind; as he walked, doors simply opened and closed automatically one after another.

Outside, meanwhile, every researcher who saw him along the way instinctively widened their eyes.

“My god, am I seeing things? Th-this…”

“The boss—the boss woke up?”

“Boss, have you fully recovered?”

Gu Siyuan gave a slight nod. “Mm. It’s nothing serious. Everyone continue working. I have something to do.”

“Uh… alright!” everyone answered blankly.

It was not until Gu Siyuan’s figure completely disappeared beyond the entrance of the institute that they came back to themselves.

Then, naturally, they huddled together and began whispering complaints.

“The boss has been unconscious for half a year, hasn’t he? How does he wake up with this terrifying aura? I almost thought the time before was just some dream.”

“Right? Fine, forget throwing a party together to celebrate—he actually told us to keep working, and then he ran off himself. Who even knows what he’s busy with?”

“Tsk. Truly worthy of Boss Gu. Ruthless with us, even more ruthless with himself.”

Naturally, Gu Siyuan did not hear any of that chatter. Even if he had, he would not have cared.

He took the elevator down to the underground parking lot, reported his destination to the car’s onboard system, and the vehicle automatically drove itself up onto the road.

It was now the year 2060.

Technology was more advanced than in any world he had ever visited before.

Yes—he remembered everything that had happened before, or rather, all the stories of the many worlds he had experienced while sleeping.

Thinking of that, he could not help thinking of Xie Qingxiao.

Gu Siyuan’s own parents had died early, and his childhood had been rather difficult.

After entering university, once he had project funding and was financially secure, he began sponsoring several middle-school students from the orphanage in his hometown so they could continue their studies.

Xie Qingxiao had been one of them—and the most outstanding among them.

When Gu Siyuan returned home, he had visited him several times and had also guided him with many of his schoolwork problems.

A few years later, Xie Qingxiao got into the very university where Gu Siyuan taught. After that, he became Gu Siyuan’s graduate student and later joined his research institute.

Xie Qingxiao was exceptionally clever, and because there was also the old connection between them, Gu Siyuan naturally felt more than a little fondness and indulgence toward him.

But precisely because of this, the little fellow’s possessiveness toward him had become unusually strong. Any time Gu Siyuan spoke more than a few words with someone else, the boy would grow awkward and moody without showing it too obviously.

Gu Siyuan had once found this rather troublesome and had even decided to distance himself from him for a while. But later, certain things happened, and those thoughts were left unfinished.

And now…

Gu Siyuan could not help the slight curve of his lips.

Wasn’t that just how children were? Strong possessiveness was perfectly normal.

Honestly, it was rather cute.

“Mr. Gu, we have arrived at the destination.”

A gentle, soothing robotic voice sounded inside the car.

“Thank you.”

Gu Siyuan unfastened his seatbelt, stepped out of the car, and narrowed his eyes at the lavishly splendid hotel before him.

…

Xie Qingxiao lounged lazily on a sofa in the corner of the banquet hall, his cold and beautiful face filled with unmistakable impatience and estrangement, utterly out of place with the lively celebration around him.

A few people occasionally wanted to approach and invite him to dance, but the aura around him was enough to scare them back.

Xie Qingxiao rolled his eyes and slowly withdrew his gaze from Zhuang Hongkai and his family.

Eighteen years ago, he had just turned six.

Less than three months after his mother died, Zhuang Hongkai married his secretary and brought her into the house—along with a four-year-old son.

And then, only a few months later, Xie Qingxiao himself had gone missing and had been abducted by traffickers.

If he had not been clever from childhood and escaped in secret, who knew what might have become of him now?

After that, for many years, he had grown up in the orphanage.

Life there had not been easy.

But compared to the Zhuang family, it had at least been much safer.

And besides…

Xie Qingxiao smiled faintly.

That was where he had met Gu Siyuan.

A year ago, while accompanying Gu Siyuan to a technology exhibition, he happened to encounter Zhuang Hongkai again.

Perhaps because he looked very much like his late mother, Zhuang Hongkai had recognized him almost at a glance. And after learning that he worked in Gu Siyuan’s research institute, this man—who had never truly put any effort into searching for him over all these years—had immediately staged a farcical display of father-son affection and shamelessly tried to acknowledge him again as his son.

Xie Qingxiao had no interest at all in being father and son with Zhuang Hongkai.

But even if he personally did not care for the Zhuang family assets, there was no reason to let them all go cheaply to others.

So on the surface, he resumed the role of the Zhuang family’s eldest young master.

However, from the moment he returned, not a single day in the Zhuang household had passed peacefully. His stepmother and stepbrother practically ran to Zhuang Hongkai every day to complain about him.

As for this, Xie Qingxiao found it deeply enjoyable.

But Zhuang Hongkai, that old bastard, might simply have been his natural nemesis.

After learning that Boss Gu Siyuan was still single, Zhuang Hongkai had actually come up with the idea of joining the two families by marriage.

When Xie Qingxiao first heard about it, he really had been smug for a while, thinking that though the old bastard was disgusting to the extreme, at least he still had some taste.

But who could have known that the person Zhuang Hongkai intended to match with Gu Siyuan was not him at all—

but his stepbrother, Zhuang Ming.

Heh. Go to hell.

The current him was no longer that powerless little child from years ago.

No one could ever steal anything from his hands again.

Much less the person he had already fallen for and long since decided upon.

Thinking of Gu Siyuan, Xie Qingxiao lifted his hand and glanced at his communicator. It had been flashing for quite a while now.

Earlier, for some reason, that fool Ying Ze had suddenly cut off the communication, and then that old bastard had dragged him away for something else.

Suddenly, staring at the few short words displayed on the communicator, he reacted as though his rear had been set on fire and jumped straight off the sofa.

“He woke up, he woke up…”

Without caring in the least what kind of occasion this was, he shoved through the crowd and ran madly for the main doors.

“Xie Qingxiao!” Zhuang Hongkai saw this from afar and instantly flew into a rage.

That little bastard was humiliating him in public again.

Xie Qingxiao kept his head down and strode out at full speed.

After only a few steps, he slammed headfirst into a tall, solid body. The rebound nearly sent him crashing onto his backside.

But the man opposite him reacted swiftly and caught him at once, hauling him directly into his arms.

Rubbing his head, Xie Qingxiao had originally been about to offer a word of thanks.

But in the next instant, he realized this person was not behaving very properly. One hand had directly settled on his waist, and that chin was outright resting on his shoulder.

His fine brows lifted, and he had just been about to curse the man savagely—

when suddenly, a familiar low and magnetic voice sounded by his ear.

“So we’ve already returned to the real world, and yet you still won’t change your script? You still have to throw yourself into my arms the moment we meet?”

Support me on Ko-fi