TGA Chapter 113

In Country H, golden-red wisps of thin clouds intertwined like rays of light. Beneath the snow-covered mountains sat the research station.

Near the ruins, countless neatly dressed researchers busily moved about. Only Abner, wrapped in a scarf, waited outside. He stood on one side of the cliff, raising his head to look at the fantastical, painting-like sky above, then gazed into the distance at the small city at the foot of the mountain, feeling a sense of peace and tranquility like never before.

Abner sneezed in the chilly air, then sniffled and sighed, “It’s still better here.”

Moments later, an elderly man with silvery-blond hair and a straight back emerged from the research station. His eyes were a light grey-blue, yet not dull in the least. Every gesture carried the grace of an old-fashioned gentleman, yet he exuded the composure and authority of a leader. A refined brooch, depicting a snake and an apple, was pinned to his chest.

“Abner,” Q called out when he saw the man by the cliff. He walked over and said, “I heard about it—your terrible negotiation and that ridiculous loss of the key.”

Abner pulled a wry smile, helplessly replying, “…How am I supposed to explain that I tried my best?”

“I don’t believe your pendulum couldn’t foresee how things would turn out,” Q said calmly. “You’ve always disliked Lin, deep down.”

Abner shrugged. “Okay, I admit it was a little satisfying to see him mess up. But I swear, I didn’t neglect my duty on the bigger issues. I didn’t expect Lin to take the key. Divination doesn’t reveal everything, you know. You need a direction, like solving a puzzle in the ruins.”

“Honestly, with the way Lin’s behaving now, he’s bound to cause chaos in the ruins sooner or later. I don’t even need a pendulum to know that. He’s openly hostile to us foreign explorers and shows no intent to cooperate.”

Q pondered for a few seconds before speaking: “I’ve thought this through—I’m not letting him be involved in exploring the ruins anymore. From now on, you’ll be in charge of this part of the work.”

Abner looked surprised. “Really? I bet he’ll explode when he hears that.”

“I don’t have many years left,” Q said, standing beside Abner as he looked down at the Nordic-style buildings below. The corners of his eyes were marked with the wrinkles of age, but he spoke calmly. “I had hoped he would take over, but he’s clearly not ready. Once we’re done with the ruin exploration, we’ll have him manage the infant stone development. By then, the researchers will be gone, and there’ll be less trouble.”

Q glanced at the Mondersen family crest pinned to his chest. “People always hope things will keep getting better. I used to think that too. But as you get older, you come to realize—accepting reality is just as important. Accepting that the future may not be better than the present, accepting that reaching the peak means decline will follow. All we can do is delay that decline.”

“You’ll lead the next phase of ruin exploration. Lin will handle the peripheral coordination.”

Abner: “Alright.”

At the Chinese Embassy abroad, Chu Qianli and the others had also arrived in high-latitude Country H after a long journey.

Outside the window, the wide, empty streets were covered in a light layer of snow. Occasionally, two or three pedestrians passed by slowly. Nordic-style buildings lined both sides, with no high-rises in sight—the most prominent structure being the clock tower.

Contrary to what they had imagined, Country H wasn’t fraught with danger. Instead, it was quiet, peaceful, pure—and even a little lonely.

Chu Qianli leaned against the window, peering curiously outside. “It’s my first time in a country like this. It’s completely different from what I imagined.”

“That’s because it’s not very big to begin with,” Tan Muxing replied. “Country H has only a few hundred thousand people, and not even a thousand in its military—fewer than the population of the imperial capital.”

Country H, smaller than a single province, had its economy tightly controlled by the Mondersen family. Its people led long-term low-desire lifestyles. The city center appeared somewhat desolate, and the remote areas were even more sparsely populated.

However, the country’s natural scenery was breathtaking, featuring a wide range of geological landscapes rarely seen elsewhere.

Mei Rujing browsed her phone. “They say if we’re lucky, we might catch the northern lights.”

Before long, the group gathered at the embassy gates, fully equipped and ready to go. Even Xuanzaiyuan, Huang Jue, and others stepped out of the building.

Pan Yicheng had been waiting for a while, standing beside a man who was also a familiar face—though today, he wasn’t wearing Taoist robes.

Liu Jun had changed into an outfit suited for field expeditions and looked energetic. He was no longer standing among the Taoist group.

Pan Yicheng addressed the crowd, “Thank you all for traveling so far to be here and for being willing to work toward a shared goal. I’m Pan Yicheng, in charge of your work and daily life while in Country H. This is Liu Jun. He and the embassy’s armed police officers will be responsible for your safety.”

Huang Jue looked at Liu Jun in surprise. “So this guy is really a cop?!”

Liu Jun had quietly joined the selection process, blending in so well that no one expected he had another identity beneath those Taoist robes. Back when he faced off against the spirit medium during the exam, he’d been fully immersed in his role.

Liu Jun: “Sorry—different departments.”

Chu Qianli: “If he’s a forest ranger, he might actually get along with the spirit medium. They both deal with wild animals all the time.”

Huang Jue: “?”

Pan Yicheng handed out communication devices and various pieces of gear, emphasized the key safety precautions, and then led the group to meet with the Mondersen Corporation.

To their surprise, it wasn’t Lin or Shi Zhuoqu who led the delegation today—but A and Joe instead.

Joe and the others naturally wouldn’t stay at the Chinese embassy. They arrived in Mondson’s vehicle from another embassy.

Chu Qianli looked at the snake and apple brooch on A’s chest and muttered, “They’re not even pretending anymore, just laying all their cards on the table?”

A had worn a panda brooch back in G City, but now in H Country, he bore the Mondson emblem.

Ebner said calmly, “Perhaps we should reintroduce ourselves today. I’m Ebner, one of the earlier participants in the exploration and now acting as the guide for this ruins development.”

“Due to certain special reasons, Lin is temporarily absent,” Ebner glanced at Chu Qianli with a smiling face. “I have the honor of taking charge of the preliminary work.”

“Got a promotion, huh?”

“Thanks to you.”

Chu Qianli suddenly understood. Ebner was likely the old gun, and now that Lin had lost the key, he had naturally risen in rank. No wonder he was being so cordial toward the group. After all, when someone disliked their superior, and that superior got dismissed by upper management, it would understandably put them in a good mood—especially if it came with increased authority.

The group boarded the bus headed for the ruins.

There weren’t many roads in H Country. After leaving the urban area, the scenery on both sides turned white and desolate.

Chu Qianli gazed at the snowy glaciers in the distance. She tugged at Tan Muxing and exclaimed in curiosity, “Xingxing, look! It feels like a place polar bears would live in. Maybe your kind is here too.”

Tan Muxing patiently explained beside her, “But reportedly, only arctic foxes live here.”

“So would they have a language barrier with fox spirits?”

Tan Muxing pondered for a moment. As an atheist, he hesitated and replied, “…That’s a bit outside my knowledge base.”

Chu Qianli looked around, intending to ask Huang Jue, but her movement caught the attention of Ebner seated behind them.

Seeing her looking around, Ebner asked with a smile, “Do you like it here?”

Chu Qianli nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

Ebner replied, “I like it too, and it’s peaceful. Even if there weren’t any ruins, I might choose to settle here in the future. It’s a pure land on the world map.”

“A pure land?”

“Yes. Human history is essentially a history of war. Anywhere humans have set foot is usually filled with conflict and strife,” Ebner said, looking out at the snowy scenery. “H Country is one of the few nations that has never experienced war. Even its regime transitions have been peaceful, so I call it a pure land.”

Tan Muxing asked in surprise, “Mr. Ebner, do you like peace?”

Ebner stroked his chin. “I’m not sure how to describe it exactly. I’m just very interested in diverse civilizations, and wars often destroy them. That’s something I don’t want to see.”

After a long journey, they finally arrived at the ruins.

Beneath the vast snowy mountains was a narrow cave entrance, appearing deep and mysterious.

Pan Yicheng, who had a keen sense of terrain, looked around and said, “This area seems volcanic.”

“Most ruins are buried underground. We’ve already completed the preliminary preparations and have secured and treated the developed sections,” Ebner explained while communicating with the research station staff. “Is Q not here?”

“He didn’t come today.”

“Alright, then we’ll head down ourselves,” Ebner said methodically. “After passing through the initial corridor, you’ll reach the hall where the Gate of Truth is located. That requires the first ruin key, which is currently the disputed crystal orb.”

Liu Jun now firmly held the small black case—in it was the crystal orb. After negotiations ended, the Chinese side retained custody of the key and did not return it to Mondson Group.

Chu Qianli asked, “The Gate of Truth? Like the gate where mortals become saints?”

“That’s just the name we gave it based on the carvings. You’re welcome to call it something else—we just felt the name was appropriate,” Ebner explained gently. “Once you walk through the corridor, you’ll likely understand what I mean. Just a heads-up—the first time is a bit unpleasant.”

The group looked puzzled, but after putting on their gear, they followed Ebner into the corridor.

The passage was dim, pitch-black even—one couldn’t see their own hand in front of them, causing discomfort.

Joe asked, “Aren’t we turning on the lights?”

Ebner shook his head. “Honestly, you won’t want to. I’m worried it might be too much for you the first time. The path is smooth, though—don’t worry, you won’t step on anything.”

Mei Rujing, Xu Zaiyuan, and the others went down in succession, followed closely by Chu Qianli and Tan Muxing.

Because of the darkness, Tan Muxing walked ahead, while Chu Qianli followed behind. She only took a few steps before understanding why Ebner refused to turn on the lights—the walls of the corridor were seemingly covered with complex and distorted text and bizarre, mysterious illustrations.

At first, the group struggled to adapt to the dark and couldn’t make out the wall’s patterns. But as their eyes adjusted, a strange sense of dizziness followed!

The murals on the walls resembled whirlpools, densely covering every surface, bearing down from all directions, pulling people in!

Chu Qianli only glanced at it and immediately felt something was wrong. She shut her eyes instinctively, but the imagery still exploded in her mind. That one glance felt like reviewing a million years of the past and simultaneously glimpsing a million years into the future—the overwhelming information shattered her mental defenses!

“Ah!” Huang Jue suddenly screamed, vomiting blood before collapsing unconscious.

Pan Yicheng exclaimed in alarm, “What’s going on!?”

Ebner was startled. “I did get a high fever my first time through the corridor, but I’ve never seen such a violent reaction!”

Mei Rujing asked, “What exactly is on the walls?”

Joe blocked his line of sight with his hand and tried to lower his head to avoid the murals. “I just saw some kind of mysterious magical script.”

Ebner explained helplessly, “The corridor walls are covered in occult information. We can’t decipher all of it, only that it records the past, present, and future. First-time visitors react differently—some have nightmares, others see deceased family members, and some claim to witness a small future event that later proves true.”

“The pattern we’ve gathered is this—the higher a person’s affinity for the occult, the stronger their rejection reaction here. It’s probably due to differences in information processing capacity,” Ebner said. “Divination itself is a combination of logical deduction and spiritual perception, so people with those skills are more sensitive to the murals than ordinary folks.”

Powerful diviners have an extremely high ability to acquire information from the outside world. Placing them in a passageway with an overwhelming amount of information naturally causes them to crash, reaching a state of overload.

Pan Yicheng, being both nearsighted and farsighted due to age, couldn’t see the murals on the wall clearly. He immediately called for someone to carry Huang Jue away and suggested, “Let’s take him to the hospital first!”

Ebner was puzzled. “Logically, it shouldn’t be this severe. The worst reaction should be a headache and weakness—unless there are two conflicting elements within him, causing simultaneous rejection.”

Huang Jue’s abilities were usually minimal and mostly relied on his spirit medium state. Now that the spirit medium couldn’t withstand the murals, the backlash naturally affected Huang Jue.

The exploration had to continue. Pan Yicheng took the injured away, and Liu Jun took over managing the site.

Xu Zaiyuan looked pale, barely able to stand, and needed Liu Jun’s support to stay upright.

Tan Muxing turned to look back with concern, and sure enough, found Chu Qianli walking with her eyes shut tightly, brows furrowed. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her hair clung messily to her face. She was clearly suffering from a splitting headache.

Mei Rujing asked, “So there’s really no way to deal with it? What if we just cover our eyes while walking?”

“It won’t work. The murals near the Gate of Truth are even more complex than those in the passage. You could say this corridor acts as an adaptation period. If you stumble through in complete darkness, it’ll be even more painful once you reach the hall. You might not even have the strength left to use the key. In a sense, this really is the road from mortal to sage.”

Ebner sighed, “I don’t have any good suggestions. If it’s too unbearable, try to think of something else. Don’t focus all your attention on the murals. Just glance at them occasionally—try to get used to it gradually.”

That was asking the impossible!

If Chu Qianli weren’t in so much pain that she couldn’t speak, she probably would’ve cried out already. Just one brief glance earlier had burned the image into her mind. Her brain was now running at high speed, and she couldn’t make it stop!

Countless fragmented images surged through her thoughts like a human history documentary being fast-forwarded—trying to drain her of all mental energy and deplete what little strength she had left!

Under the crushing pressure, warmth suddenly arrived.

Chu Qianli felt as if waking from a dream.

Tan Muxing had taken her hand. Feeling the cold sweat covering her palm, he asked worriedly, “Are you okay? Should you leave with Professor Pan?”

She hadn’t said anything in a long time, as if she were suffocating, which naturally worried him.

Chu Qianli took a deep breath, like a drowning person breaking the surface. The warmth and dryness of his palm gave her a real sense of anchoring in the present moment. She gradually emerged from the chaotic abstract storm of thoughts and silently shook her head.

If Ebner was right, she would have to walk this road eventually—leaving now would make no difference.

Seeing that she stubbornly refused to retreat, Tan Muxing gently offered, “I’ll lead you forward. Just try not to look up, okay?”

Chu Qianli nodded.

Besides Huang Jue, Xu Zaiyuan and Chu Qianli had the strongest reactions.

Xu Zaiyuan chanted a Taoist calming mantra while slowly moving forward. Chu Qianli was led by Tan Muxing.

Though Chu Qianli still felt hazy, following in Tan Muxing’s footsteps, walking exactly where he stepped, gradually calmed her mind. In place of her earlier turmoil, a subtle emotion rose within her.

She couldn’t stop thinking about divination. But now, her mind oddly blanked out. Her thoughts drifted.

She remembered the sunny days on the school track, how she used to love stepping on Tan Muxing’s shadow. His shadow had been big enough to cover her completely—like a clumsy, cuddly polar bear in silhouette.

Tan Muxing noticed her dragging her steps and sensed her fatigue. Suddenly, he let go of her hand.

Chu Qianli immediately looked up and pouted, “Why did you let go?”

“Uh…” Tan Muxing had thought she was too weak to continue, and was about to suggest carrying her. But her fast reaction caught him off guard. Her tone of complaint made him flustered. He replied in a small voice, “…I thought maybe I should carry you.”

But she had cut him off before he could say anything—much too quickly for someone who claimed to be weak.

Chu Qianli was momentarily speechless.

Awkward silence fell between them.

“I…” Tan Muxing was thrown off. He now didn’t know whether to hold her hand again or what he should do.

Chu Qianli’s brow twitched. Her face had been tense for a while. She said awkwardly, “Squat down.”

“…Okay.”

Tan Muxing bent down and carried Chu Qianli on his back. He felt her resting her head against his neck, and his ears began to burn.

He had only intended to ease her discomfort. But after the little hiccup earlier, the atmosphere had shifted. Her hair playfully brushed against his cheek like a soft feather plucking at his heartstrings—everything suddenly felt messy and confusing.

Lying on his back, Chu Qianli began to feel a little regret. But after her initial heartbeat calmed down and she adjusted, she started to accept it shamelessly. She even muttered in dissatisfaction, “If Star Star hadn’t lost weight, this would be even more comfortable. A proper polar bear would be better.”

Tan Muxing hadn’t expected her to still care about him gaining weight back. He responded good-naturedly, amused, “Sorry, am I affecting your ride comfort?”

“Hmph.”

Ebner had said the passage would take thirty minutes to walk through. He led the group from the front.

Tan Muxing carried Chu Qianli without any difficulty, his pace unhurried, guiding her steadily past the murals.

Resting against her familiar polar bear, Chu Qianli finally dared to open her eyes. She no longer avoided looking down.

Her gaze slowly passed over the ancient script. But unlike earlier, she didn’t react violently—she received no new information.

Tan Muxing noticed her subtle movements. Unable to see her face, he asked with concern, “You’re not dizzy looking at the murals now?”

Chu Qianli replied softly, “Mm, because I’m not thinking about divination anymore.”

Or rather, she couldn’t bring herself to think about it at all right now.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not telling you.”

I am just a novice translator and Chinese is not my native language. I try my best to translate the chapters as accurate as possible.
If there are any mistakes then kindly comment and remind me. Your support means a lot.