The Divine Hall by the lakeshore blazed with bonfires.
All beings were still chanting "Return to the Source," while the stele glimmered faintly with the words Cultivation must have flavor. The Holy Son, Luo Xingyun, lay sprawled before the stele, his brush nearly snapping, eyes bloodshot, muttering to himself: "Cumin… cumin… so that's the fifth taste of cultivation! The Five Flavors of the Dao—salty, sour, bitter, spicy, and cumin!"
Around him, cultivators wept with fervor, shouting in unison: "The Holy Word is supreme!"
At that moment, a cold female voice abruptly shattered the madness.
"Absurd."
The crowd instantly fell silent.
A woman in blue approached, a bronze array disk hanging at her waist, its light flickering. Her gaze was clear and sharp, her steps steady, eyes as if piercing all falsehood.
"Dungeon Observer, Su Wan-ci," she declared, showing her badge, her voice icy. "Appointed by the Alliance of Myriad Sects, tasked with investigating anomalies in this dungeon."
Cultivators held their breath, some whispering nervously.
Luo Xingyun shot to his feet, hair bristling in rage. "You dare question the Holy Stele?!"
Su Wan-ci raised her array disk. Spiritual light revealed a string of complex fluctuating curves.
"When the stele carved itself just now," she said coldly, "the spiritual energy's epicenter pointed directly to the wooden hut. In other words, the source of the stele's resonance was a living being's dream-murmurs."
The entire plaza froze.
Faces blanched across the crowd. If that were true, then the so-called Holy Word was nothing but…
Luo Xingyun roared, voice cracking: "Insolence! That's blasphemy against the Heavenly Emperor! The Holy Stele has never lied! And you, with your broken trinket, dare slander the Emperor?!"
"I speak fact," Su Wan-ci's eyes were colder than frost. "A dungeon is nothing but the sum of its governing laws. It records disturbances. I suspect your so-called 'Holy Word' is merely the dungeon auto-engraving certain soundwave interferences."
Her words fell, and the lakeshore erupted into chaos, whispers breaking out: "Could it… could it be true?"
Luo Xingyun flushed crimson, his brush trembling as if about to snap, his voice hoarse with rage: "Nonsense! The Holy Stele never deceives! With one breath from the Emperor, all laws bow!"
The air was taut with tension. Just then, from inside the wooden hut came a muffled murmur:
"…Don't burn it…"
Su Wan-ci froze, staring down at her array disk.
"Beep-beep-beep—!"
The device screamed, lights spiking to their limit.
She gasped: "Spiritual interference above dungeon threshold?! Impossible—"
Luo Xingyun was already sobbing, falling to his knees, carving into the stele with abandon: "Holy Word! The Holy Word has appeared again! Cultivation cannot be rash—His Majesty enlightens us with grilled fish!"
"The Holy Word is supreme!" the crowd wailed as one.
Su Wan-ci stood stiff, her fingers trembling, her throat choking. Her mind screamed it was nothing but sleep-talk. Yet the broken device, the world's resonance, the stele carving itself—all lashed her like cruel whips.
…
Inside, Ji Canglan rolled over, clutching his fish basket in his sleep, mumbling: "…Less salt, more cumin."
Boom!
The stele blazed, new words searing themselves into stone:
[Holy Word: The Dao requires balance—cumin is the supreme flavor]
Luo Xingyun shook violently, overcome with ecstasy. "Ahhh! The Emperor reveals new truth! Salt is the base, cumin the king! The flavors of cultivation… salvation is at hand!"
Cultivators broke into sobs, bowing low.
Su Wan-ci's array disk flickered, went black, sparked, then snapped apart with a sharp crack.
Her face drained, whispering: "…No. This isn't right. This isn't possible…"
Yet when she looked up, the stele was radiant, cultivators prostrate, Luo Xingyun writing like a man possessed. The suspicion clawing in her chest was forced back down.
Clenching her fists, veins bulging at her temple, she hissed through her teeth: "I'll find out… who is truly behind all this."
None noticed the youth in the hut turn over again, clutching his fish basket with a silly grin.
"…Heh, next time I'll definitely win…"
The lakeshore fell silent. Then—
Boom!
The stele lit once more, etching out eight characters on its own:
[Holy Word: Victory requires self-confidence first]
The crowd erupted in madness, mountains echoing with their cries.
Luo Xingyun sobbed hysterically: "Even the Emperor's dream-talk is truth!"
Su Wan-ci bit her lip till blood welled, a vein throbbing on her brow. "…Dream-talk my ass!"
And Ji Canglan slept on, undisturbed.