Chapter Seven: The Forbidden Record… The First Words of Truth
A heavy silence prevailed in the heart of the sulfur mine after the explosion of the Scorched Rodent King, a silence broken only by the hiss of lingering energy in the air and the ragged breaths of Zhou Fan. The bronze wall still radiated a faint heat, as if the rock itself were breathing after being relieved of a burden it had carried for millennia.
Zhang crawled out from behind the rubble, his face smudged with ash, eyes hollow from the shock. "Fan… are you alive? What… what did you do? You killed it… you killed the Rodent King as if you had electrocuted it with the lightning of heaven!"
Zhou Fan did not respond. His hand was still extended toward the dark crevice in the wall. He didn't feel the texture of the old leather scroll; instead, a strange metallic chill seeped directly into his marrow.
He slowly withdrew the scroll and the black dagger. As soon as he pulled them out of the crevice, the bronze wall began to crack and crumble, as if the magic that had preserved it had ended with its mission.
"We have to leave… now," Zhou Fan whispered, his voice hoarse, as if speaking a language his own tongue had never used.
"Where? The exit is blocked by debris, and the Snake is waiting for us outside!" Zhang shouted desperately.
Zhou Fan looked at the black dagger in his hand. It had no sharp edge in the traditional sense; it seemed like a "hole in reality" shaped as a knife.
"The equation number 402 from the wall…" Zhou Fan thought, his eyes glinting with a dim golden light. "Reality is not solid… it's merely organized vibrations. If I can change the vibration frequency at a single point…"
He lifted the dagger and pressed it against the air in front of the debris that blocked the exit. He did not use muscle force, but directed a "thread" of the black substance flowing in his veins toward the dagger's grip.
Trrrrrrnnnn…
The dagger emitted a loud sound that tore the silence, and suddenly, the massive stones that had weighed tons began to "melt," turning into fine dust, opening a narrow passage just wide enough for them to slip through.
Zhang was so stunned he forgot how to breathe. "This… this is not swordsmanship… this is magic!"
"This is not magic, Zhang," Zhou Fan said, staggering, leaning on the wall. "This is 'computational negation.' I calculated the resonance point of the stones, and the dagger did the rest. Follow me, and don't look back."
They slipped out of the mine through twisted paths calculated by Zhou Fan alone. The sun had begun to rise, sending pale golden rays over the peaks of Long Yuan. They returned to the servant quarters before Supervisor Gao awoke, as if nothing had happened.
In a dark corner of the hut, far from the eyes of other disciples, Zhou Fan opened the leather scroll.
It contained no combat techniques like "Thunder Palm" or "Wind Steps." Instead, the first page was completely blank, except for a single sentence written in black blood that would not dry:
[To the one who has an eye for numbers and a heart that bears mortality: the universe is not creation, but a great computational error. Immortality is not survival, but the correction of this error.]
As Zhou Fan read these words, the letters began to move and rearrange themselves, revealing the name of the book:
"The Lost Celestial Calculations: Volume One – The Derivation of Chaos"
He began to read, and with each word, his body trembled. The book spoke of a terrifying philosophy: ordinary cultivators absorb chi to become part of the system (the Heaven), whereas the owner of this record "deconstructs" chi to return it to the original chaos (void).
"This… this is why my body is perforated!" Zhou Fan shouted internally, a tear of astonishment falling from his eye. "The record says the 'perforated veins' are not a biological defect, but 'drainage channels' necessary for this type of energy. Ordinary cultivators are like cups that fill up… but I… I am like a 'whirlwind' that never rests unless empty!"
Three days passed, and Zhou Fan did not leave the hut except to work. He flogged himself in silence, practicing the first techniques of the record, called "Three Steps of Nothingness."
While carrying water, he did not merely walk. With each step, he imagined stepping on the "weak points" of gravity itself.
"Step one: Weight Nullification…"
He lifted the heavy buckets, suddenly feeling as if the air itself bore their weight.
"Step two: Void Glide…"
He moved between rocks at a speed that made his form seem blurred, as if he did not fully exist in that space.
But this development did not go unnoticed.
On the fourth day, as Zhou Fan emptied water at the peak, Yang Lian stood before him, surrounded by his loyal disciples. Yang Lian seemed more arrogant than ever, already reaching the "Second Level of Body Refinement."
"You pest," Yang Lian said mockingly. "I heard you caused trouble in the sulfur mine. Supervisor Gao is looking for the one who destroyed the mine entrance. Do you think your silence will save you?"
Zhou Fan did not look at him, continuing to calculate the "angle of the sun" above Yang Lian's head.
"I'm talking to you!" Yang Lian shouted, launching a powerful punch imbued with thunder energy at Zhou Fan's face.
Normally, Zhou Fan would have been crushed. But this time, instinctively, the "Derivation of Chaos" activated.
He did not dodge. He slowly raised his hand and gently touched Yang Lian's fist.
At that moment, something caused the surrounding disciples to recoil in horror. The thunder energy that burned in Yang Lian's grip did not explode upon Zhou Fan; instead, it began to "disintegrate" and dissipate into the air as if it had never existed.
Yang Lian felt his energy being sucked from his veins, thrown into a "black hole." He shouted, withdrawing his hand, staring at Zhou Fan in true terror.
"What did you do? What is this dark magic you wield?"
Zhou Fan looked at him with cold eyes, eyes no longer belonging to a mortal servant.
"I calculated the resonance of your thunder, Yang Lian, and found it… unbalanced. I did nothing, I merely 'corrected' your mistake."
He walked away, leaving Yang Lian trembling. The balance of power had begun to shift; the child once deemed "trash" now held a weapon that could make emperors tremble.
Yet in the shadows, atop the seventh peak, a cloaked elder watched the scene with a chilling smile.
"The Lost Record of Calculations… has finally appeared. Zhou Fan… you do not yet realize that by touching that book, you have become the 'feast' the world has awaited for millennia."