Chapter Three: Celestial Steed Soaring, Flowers Bloom on the Distant Shore

“Wow, this...”

“Such a huge cavern, yet they built glass walls, a glass ceiling, even the floor is glass. What could this possibly be for?”

“Regardless, just the technique alone impresses us in the architecture department. The glass pieces are completely seamless, joined without any visible connection.”

“We chemistry students are impressed as well!”

“But why is it so empty inside? There’s nothing at all.”

“Damn, what a waste! Is this all? How are we supposed to get underground?”

“Feels like we could go in and check—maybe there’s a secret tunnel leading below.”

Everyone began voicing their opinions, while a few daring young men were already eager to step into the rocky cavern.

After all, Xu Zhe had already tested it with a stone, and it seemed there were no dangerous traps inside. Some people's innate adventurous spirit and desire to show off were stirring.

“Everyone, I, Li Chungang, will go in first to investigate. Female students should wait outside. I fear nothing; once I confirm it’s safe, you can come in—hey, Wang Jianguo, get back here!”

Li Chungang had planned to make a grand entrance, but halfway through his act, Wang Jianguo stepped into the rocky cavern before him.

Wang Jianguo was cautious, only placing one foot inside, carefully testing the weight-bearing capacity of the glass floor.

“Thud!”

At that moment, Li Chungang stomped heavily onto the glass, producing a faint, muffled sound, but the floor remained unharmed.

“It’s safe!” Li Chungang immediately called out, while scanning the ground and shaking his head. “But aside from those LED strips under the glass, there’s nothing to see. Looks like solid ground underneath, but maybe not.”

“So it’s just a super huge glass house?” Wang Jianguo shrugged.

“Let’s search a bit. I think the underground entrance is probably hidden in here somewhere,” Xu Zhe said, stepping inside.

This cavern was clearly more than it appeared; it couldn’t just be a secret room, especially one so vast—thousands of square meters, all encased in glass, such a grand undertaking, truly extraordinary.

If the surface was so elaborate, what could be hidden beneath it?

“A masterpiece—feels like we’re in a sci-fi movie,” Wang Jianguo said, marveling at the surroundings.

The others nodded in agreement.

Someone took out a phone, preserved by days of being powered off, and began taking pictures.

Someone lay flat on the glass floor, knocking on it here and there.

Another sat cross-legged, claiming the spiritual energy might be awakening.

Xu Zhe raised his head and looked around carefully, but inside it was just a rectangular glass enclosure, nothing but a door and floor lighting strips.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, a deep, thunderous sound echoed.

Outside the cavern's entrance, a sheet of rock crashed down, sealing the door instantly.

At the same time, the glass floor beneath everyone trembled, startling them all.

“What the hell happened?”

“The door’s shut?”

“Who triggered something? Hurry and open the door!”

“Is anyone still outside? Get them to open up!”

“No, I was the last to enter. There’s no one outside.”

No one outside?

At that, panic swept through the crowd.

Ninety-nine people were trapped inside—about to be taken all at once.

“Beep...”

The next moment, a shrill alarm blared.

The white lights beneath the glass floor, arranged in grids, suddenly turned red.

The shift in color bathed the entire glass chamber in blood-red light.

“This is bad!” Xu Zhe’s heart pounded. Sensing danger, his first reaction was to find Lin Keyi.

“Boom!”

Suddenly, the glass floor shook again.

Then, from the red grid lighting strips, a thin layer of glass shot up at an astonishing speed, surrounding Xu Zhe from all sides.

The glass rose to a height of two meters, then swiftly extended overhead, flowing like liquid toward the center and sealing him inside.

This abrupt change happened in the blink of an eye.

Xu Zhe had no time to react before he found himself isolated inside a small glass dome.

At the same time, he was shocked to discover that not only Lin Keyi or Li Chungang, but everyone present had been sealed off in their own glass domes.

Some were shouting, some pounding with their hands, others kicking or even headbutting.

But inside his own glass dome, Xu Zhe felt an uncanny silence.

All sound was completely blocked out!

“How... is this possible?” Xu Zhe was horrified, struggling to believe it.

A completely soundproof glass dome—modern technology could certainly achieve that.

But glass that could grow on its own, extend seamlessly, fuse and seal, autonomously forming domes—he had never seen or heard of such a thing.

What kind of black technology was this?

“Clang!”

Suddenly, a faint sound came from within the glass dome.

Xu Zhe realized this was the vibration of his own dome.

But before he could think further, a strong sense of weightlessness swept over him.

He watched as he and everyone else, each encased in their own glass domes, dropped rapidly from the floor.

The red grid lights beneath them suddenly went dark, plunging Xu Zhe into darkness. He could no longer see the others.

“This is big trouble!” Xu Zhe frowned tightly, quickly bending his knees and pressing his back against the dome.

But the weightlessness did not last long; it soon faded, as their descent slowed.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared.

The source was below, deep in the abyss.

Xu Zhe’s vision cleared, and he saw his classmates in their domes nearby, as well as Lin Keyi not far off.

Everyone was still trapped in their glass domes, but all the domes hovered in the abyss, with nothing pulling them, yet they slowly descended.

Looking up, there was only darkness above, but the rugged contours of the mountain walls around him were clearly visible.

This reference point made it clear they were sinking deeper.

But as Xu Zhe’s gaze lowered, his expression changed.

Deeper in the abyss, more glass layers appeared on the mountain walls.

As they sank, those sealed walls came level with their sight, and with the illumination, he glimpsed what lay beyond the glass—and was utterly stunned.

Within the enormous abyss, the mountain walls held spaces, separated by glass layers.

Behind the glass were countless... monsters!

No—beasts!

One creature had the body of a horse, a human face, and bird-like wings striped like a tiger...

“A horse-bodied, human-faced, tiger-striped, bird-winged beast, called Yingzhao!” Xu Zhe whispered in shock.

Next to Yingzhao, a glass dome held a cow—yet it had only one foot, no horns, and its body was a bluish gray.

“Looks like a cow, single-legged, hornless, radiating sun-and-moon-like light—called Kui Niu!”

“Lion-like, fond of smoke and sitting, eats tigers and leopards—called Suanni.”

“Human-faced, sheep-bodied, eyes beneath the armpits, tiger teeth, human hands—called Taotie.”

“Pixiu.”

“Phoenix.”

“Vermilion Bird.”

“Azure... Azure Dragon!”

Wherever Xu Zhe looked, all manner of legendary creatures from the Classic of Mountains and Seas were arrayed before him.

His heart raced wildly, nearly scaring him to death.

Behind a giant glass layer was the mythical Phoenix; next door, an Azure Dragon, its head visible, but not its whole body.

Yet all these beasts seemed lifeless, inert, lying with eyes closed.

Their bodies were pierced with transparent, gigantic tubes, colored fluids being extracted and channeled deeper into the abyss.

“What on earth... is this place?” Xu Zhe’s worldview, shaped by years of cultural education, was shattered.

There really were divine beasts in this world.

And all were locked here, their blood drained?

This island, its depths—what power possessed such strength?

Not only Xu Zhe, but everyone else was equally stunned.

Everyone wore identical expressions of disbelief, eyes bulging in shock.

Even through the glass dome, Xu Zhe could tell from Li Chungang’s mouth that he was shouting countless expletives.

Some female classmates appeared to be shouting toward him; from their lips, he guessed phrases like “Xu Zhe, I love you, I like you.”

“Sigh!”

Xu Zhe shook his head and sighed. Even at a time like this, how could they... Wait, when did the glass domes change direction?

He suddenly realized his own dome—and all the others—were drifting toward the mountain walls of the abyss.

No way, no way—could they really be planning to confine them here, like those beasts, to drain their blood?

Xu Zhe quickly turned to look behind him, feeling inexplicably relieved, though his expression twisted.

Behind him were rows upon rows of rectangular machines, neatly arranged. They looked like operating tables, though far more complex, with colorful tubes connecting them.

His own glass dome was being guided toward one of these machines.

Imagining the combination of dome and machine, it felt strangely familiar.

“Wang Xinran’s sleeping pod...”

Xu Zhe recalled the photo on his phone of Wang Xinran lying in such a sleeping pod.

“Clang!”

Sure enough, as his dome drew close, the machine extended robotic arms, tightly embedding his glass dome onto the apparatus.

“Hiss...”

A moment later, the sound of gas entering the dome echoed.

Xu Zhe’s face changed, seeming to recall something. He quickly turned, searching for Lin Keyi’s location—she was in his left front.

Everyone, like him, was being embedded onto the machines with their domes. Lin Keyi had been watching him, her face full of anxiety and panic, mouth moving as she tried to speak.

“Keyi, Keyi...”

Xu Zhe shouted as loudly as he could, knowing she couldn’t hear him, but still calling out.

Then, his reason returned. He leaned close to the glass, breathed on it, fogging a patch, and began writing with his finger.

On the other side, Lin Keyi paused, then realized—sound couldn’t pass, but they could write. She quickly breathed on her glass and raised her hand.

She remembered something important she wanted to remind Xu Zhe about.

But Xu Zhe seemed equally anxious, wanting to tell her something, so she watched him, preparing to write.

Xu Zhe raised both hands, each with a finger, and drew a heart on the misted glass.

Lin Keyi’s expression froze instantly; her finger, about to write, slid downward unconsciously.

Xu Zhe’s eyelids grew heavy, his head clouded—clearly, the gas released in the dome was an anesthetic.

But he fought to keep his eyes open, gritting his teeth, using his last ounce of willpower, and finally saw the mark Lin Keyi left on her glass before fainting—a question mark.

“?”

Xu Zhe’s vision went black, and he slipped into unconsciousness.

Everyone succumbed to sleep.

“Bang!”

At that moment, ninety-nine sleeping pods, all their pipes detaching automatically, slid from the walls into the abyss.

Drawn by invisible forces, the pods settled quietly beside the one containing Wang Xinran.

Thus, all one hundred were reunited.

“Beep... Automatic destruction protocol initiated. All personnel have safely entered lifeboats. Destination... unknown.”

...

“Boom—!”

Moments later,

In the tranquil night, the boundless ocean erupted in a thunderous explosion, flames spreading in all directions.

A deserted island was obliterated, sinking into the churning waves.

In the night sky, the stars clustered, faintly forming ethereal flowers of the other shore, glowing softly and blooming.

Further away, stars gathered, seeming to become celestial steeds galloping across the sky, forging a path of the Milky Way.

Heavenly steeds soar, other shore flowers bloom.

From the blaze above the ocean, a hundred streaks of light burst forth, shooting into the dark sky, streaming toward the vast depths of the universe.

...

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