Chapter Seventeen: The Art of Conjuring Something from Nothing

On the walls of Star City, the old ragged man was so drunk he had lost all sense.
The ground was littered with wine jars, scattered and overturned, fiery-red crystalline liquor flowing wastefully across the stones, its fragrant aroma drifting upward, causing the cultivators below to exchange glances of surprise.
The old man twitched his nose, feeling an itch, wanting to sneeze but failing, scratched his foot and absentmindedly brought it to his nose for a sniff.
“Ah-choo…”
The sneeze burst forth, and in his dream, the old man’s lips curled into a sly smile.
Still the familiar scent.
…
“Let’s go ask him.”
At the heart of the Ninth Layer World.
Qing, cradling an ancient book in one hand, rose tall amidst the Sacred Tree, her delicate snow-white feet bare, the skin of her soles visibly flushed with a hint of pink.
Though only nine years old, her bright eyes already held a hint of graceful elegance, setting her apart from the simple Xiao Huang and Ying; she could truly be called a budding beauty.
“Qing, who are we going to ask?”
Xiao Huang smiled, revealing a row of snow-white, crystalline teeth, still basking in the joy of solving a riddle, without Qing’s deeper contemplation.
“Of course, Old Ragged. We must find out whether he was merely teasing you, or if he truly foresaw it.”
Qing spoke with certainty, leaping down from the Sacred Myriad Spirits Tree, then turned toward the tree behind her: “Grandpa Myriad, may I take a jar of Nine Thunder Wine?”
“Certainly, haha…”
The radiant Sacred Tree replied with a warm, genial voice, its joy evident in the company of the children.
Soon after, a hazy ball of light floated from the tree, dissolving into a gentle rain of light, revealing an item within: a jar crafted from lamb-fat spiritual jade.
Within, arcs of electricity danced, thunder power suffused the air, and the blue-violet wine gleamed as if containing a splendid world of thunder, dazzling and exquisite.
“Thank you, Grandpa Myriad.”
Qing caught the precious jar of Nine Thunder Wine and said to Xiao Huang and Ying, “Let’s go.”
Xiao Huang and Ying exchanged puzzled glances. Qing rarely left the Sacred Tree, preferring to sit and read, and only ventured from the Star Tower when absolutely necessary.
What had changed today?

Could “Sister-in-law” have another meaning?
…
A golden little boat drifted leisurely down the river. Feng Shang lounged on a wicker chair, hands behind his head and legs crossed, a green wooden fishing rod dangling in front of him.
His posture suited sightseeing far more than adventuring.
Splash…
Suddenly, the glittering line quivered.
The golden river rippled, a powerful tug surged down the resilient fishing line; something substantial had been hooked.
“Here it comes.”
Reclining as before, Feng Shang watched the taut line, his eyes alight with excitement, as if glimpsing some delectable fare. He gripped the rod and jerked it upward.
A peculiar spirit fish, clutching a fiery-red crystal in its mouth, burst from the water on the end of the line.
Its scales, black and white and diamond-shaped, glimmered; small in size, it flashed a tail as it surfaced, releasing a sharp, chilling aura that crackled and shook the boat.
This mysterious black-and-white river housed lifeforms with ferocious tempers.
Feng Shang only recently discovered this, startled when the previous catch broke through the golden waves and lunged for his throat, making him sit up abruptly.
“Obediently fill my belly.”
Feng Shang’s face was alight with excitement as he pointed a finger.
A hidden stream of mysterious astral energy surged within him, condensing at his fingertip, and brilliant rays shot forth.
The black-and-white fish sensed mortal danger, released the fiery-red crystal from its mouth, and its sharp scales, charged with a terrifying aura, fired like bullets, churning the golden river’s surface.
Boom, boom, boom!
The spirit fish shed its scales, briefly repelling the light, and darted toward the river. Feng Shang was stunned for a moment, not expecting his meal to slip away.
The fish’s brilliance soared as it fled desperately.
It was clever, coveting the crimson divine crystal, which got it hooked; sensing danger, it immediately abandoned it and dove straight down.
The process was lightning-quick, beyond the boy’s control.
Feng Shang was annoyed, seeing his delicacy escape before his eyes was a vexation beyond words. Just as the spirit fish whipped its tail, half its body plunging into the river, he shouted:
“Manifesting Qi from Nothing!”
Responding to his call, the mysterious Starforge Treasure Qi hidden throughout his body surged forth, revealing a fraction of its formidable power.
Crack… crack…

To human ears, it sounded like fine ice shattering, or the surface of water freezing solid.
A tide of intense light swept out, and a startling scene unfolded.
The golden river instantly froze, down to the ripples and splashes, all sealed in silence.
The black-and-white spirit fish halted abruptly, half-submerged, comically writhing in midair.
“Come here.”
Feng Shang’s expression relaxed, the mysterious Starforge Treasure Qi surged again, and with its motion, time seemed to flow backward—the spirit fish embedded in the river flew back to its original place.
Its eyes were wide with bewilderment and terror.
The fish could not comprehend: it had sacrificed so much, unleashed unimaginable power, seized the vital moment of life and death—yet it still could not escape the boy’s grasp!
It even felt that, upon reflection, its own strength might rise to a new level, equal to a significant opportunity.
Why was it so?
…
Bubbling sounds rose from the pot, where creamy white fish soup simmered, scallions floating atop, steam carrying an enticing aroma.
Feng Shang, long hungry, could not wait to taste it, scooping up a spoonful—the flavor was rich, fresh, sweetly mellow, warming heart and tongue, lingering on the palate.
“So fresh! If I could take this back to Star City, the old drunkard would surely call it the best dish to accompany wine.”
Feng Shang praised the soup, its fragrance and flavor filling the air, tempting him to abandon all decorum and feast heartily.
The spirit fish’s flesh was firm and tender, slippery and requiring a good bite, but the taste was unrivaled—the finest fish he had ever eaten. After his fill, Feng Shang broke off a fish bone and leisurely picked his teeth.
“Who would have thought such delicacies existed here? Perhaps I’m the first to taste them in the Black Prison,” Feng Shang mused as he savored the flavor.
Leaving his initial location, the golden boat sped up, drifting for two days until it reached the heart of the Black Prison.
The ancient, solemn land was scarred with signs of destruction—sword marks, deep black fissures bottomless as the abyss.
Ancient celestial debris lay embedded in the earth, deeply sunken, the laws left behind by terrifying battles still smoldering.
“Hell’s bells, what is that…”
Feng Shang was dumbfounded, mouth agape, all his usual composure vanished, and his former confidence and arrogance utterly faded.
What shocked him was something utterly inconceivable!