34: Chapter 34 The Truth.

The stone steps leading down were longer than those leading up. The night pearls had vanished from the walls, and darkness pressed in from all sides. Lu Chen felt his way down along the wall, his fingers brushing against the rough stone surface, yet he could not feel the coldness of the rock.

He walked for a long time. So long that he began to doubt if these stairs had an end.

Then, his hand touched a door.

It was also grey. Just like the one on the fourth floor. But there was only one word on the door—"Truth."

Lu Chen pushed the door.

There was no resistance. The door opened on its own, as if it had been waiting for him.

Inside was a stone chamber. It was larger than the fourth floor, larger than the third floor, larger than the previous four floors combined—not in terms of physical space, but in the sense of scale. The vaulted ceiling was so high the top was invisible, and light filtered down from above, though its source was unknown—it wasn't night pearls, nor lamplight, but a kind of heatless white light.

In the very center of the stone chamber sat a person.

No, not a person. It was a skeleton.

A complete set of white bones sat cross-legged, hands folded on the knees. The bones were jade-white, emitting a faint fluorescence—after a Cultivator at or above Foundation Establishment dies, their bones undergo jade-transformation; the higher the cultivation, the deeper the transformation. This skeleton had reached the pinnacle of jade-transformation, white to the point of transparency, looking like it was carved from a single piece of mutton-fat jade.

There were no injuries on the skeleton. No cracks, no breaks, no signs of poisoning.

He had died of his own accord.

He had dispersed his own cultivation. He had extinguished his own life. He had chosen to sit here and wait for death.

To the right of the white bones was a wall. The wall was covered in inscriptions—not the handwriting of many people, but of one. From beginning to end, from the first line to the last, the handwriting grew fainter and more chaotic, until it was almost unrecognizable at the end.

Lu Chen walked over. As the first word met his eyes, he knew who had written this.

The Ancestral Master of the Danding Sect. The master of the Inverted Tower. The creator of the Love-Refining Furnace.

"My name is Li Xuanyi. Founding Ancestral Master of the Danding Sect. Master of the Inverted Tower."

The characters were carved deep. Every stroke had penetrated three inches into the stone. It was written by a very earnest person.

"I entered the Dao at ten, reached Foundation Establishment at fifteen, Core Formation at thirty, and Nascent Soul at fifty—the world called me a Genius. I also considered myself a Genius. A Genius should seek longevity."

"At a hundred years old, I reached Soul Transformation Perfection. I was but a step away from Ascension. Yet the gate to Ascension would not open—not because my talent was lacking, nor because Spiritual Qi was insufficient. It was because 'emotion' was lacking."

Lu Chen continued reading. The script was changing.

"Ascension to the Heavenly Dao requires the Seven Emotions as a catalyst—Joy, Anger, Sorrow, Thought, Grief, Fear, and Fright—only when the Seven Emotions are complete can the Heavenly Tribulation be triggered. I was born with a Grey Spirit Root. In my youth, I did not know the meaning of the Grey Spirit Root, thinking it only meant faster cultivation. It was only when I reached Soul Transformation Perfection that I discovered—I had no emotions to refine."

"Those with a Grey Spirit Root are born with a lack of emotion. I spent my entire life cultivating, reaching the end of Spiritual Qi, only to find a wall beyond that end—that wall was myself. It wasn't that I was one step away from Ascension. It was that I could never fly from the very beginning."

"I was unwilling to accept this."

The handwriting became heavy from this point. Every stroke seemed to be carved into the stone through bone—carved into his own bone.

"I consulted ancient texts and, with ten years of effort, refined the first Love-Refining Furnace—the Inverted Tower. The principle of the Love-Refining Furnace is simple: emotions can be extracted and transferred from one person to another. Those with a Grey Spirit Root cannot generate enough emotion themselves, but they can take it from others."

"I began to collect emotions. I collected those of Mortals, of Cultivators, of friends, Disciples, and kin. Every floor of the Inverted Tower is a 'furnace chamber'—the first floor refines Fear, the second refines Friendship, the third refines Compassion, the fourth refines Self, and the fifth—"

The writing broke off here. It was as if the carver had hesitated.

"The fifth floor refines 'Truth'. Truth is the true self. What I wanted to refine was not others, but myself."

"I refined for fifty years. I extracted the emotions of countless people, filled the Inverted Tower, and then channeled them into my own body. I thought that by doing this, I could gather enough of the Seven Emotions—that I could ascend. I was wrong."

"The emotions of others are, in the end, those of others. Refined into the body, they can be used, but they cannot take root. Like a bucket—it can hold water, but the water is scooped from elsewhere, not fallen from the heavens. When the bucket is full, the water is still someone else's water. My body was filled with the joys and sorrows of others, but I myself—was still empty."

"I sat on the fifth floor for a hundred years. During those hundred years, I repeatedly asked myself one question—who am I? A vessel filled with the emotions of others? A Puppet driven by the joys and sorrows of others? A thing whose very 'self' is borrowed?"

"I found no answer."

"And I no longer wished to look for one."

The handwriting began to fade. It wasn't that the carving was shallower, but that the carver's strength was failing.

"I decided to disperse my cultivation. Disperse those borrowed emotions. Disperse those joys and sorrows that did not belong to me. After dispersing them, I was left with only one thought—'I want to ascend'. This thought is my own. The only one."

"But I cannot disperse this thought. Because it is not an emotion, not a memory, not anything that can be extracted. It is the reason I have lived for several hundred years. It is the only thing I have possessed from beginning to end."

"I sit here with this thought. Waiting for death."

"Later, people came. The first person took a finger bone. The second person also took one. I do not know who they were, nor where they went. But I know—they were just like me. Grey Spirit Roots. Natural empty shells. Coming to the Inverted Tower to find something they could fill themselves with."

"I leave a finger bone here—one of my own. In those bones that came from others, their original emotions are stored. In my finger bone, my sole thought is stored—"

The writing was almost illegible here. The final line was crooked, as if written with the last of his strength—

"Longevity is but an infinite prison sentence. I, Li Xuanyi, have served my term. May those who come after—leave this prison soon."

Lu Chen finished reading the last word. He pulled his hand back from the wall; his fingertips were dry—the words on the wall had no moisture. Carved for hundreds of years, they were as dry as a desert.

He took a step back, looking at the cross-legged white bones.

Ancestral Master of the Danding Sect. Soul Transformation Perfection. Master of the Inverted Tower. The person closest to Ascension in the entire world.

Sitting here. Having dispersed his own cultivation. Having waited for his own death.

"Longevity is but an infinite prison sentence."

The corner of Lu Chen's mouth twitched. It wasn't a smile, nor a sob. It was a kind of confirmation—a confirmation of something he had known from the very beginning. Every Breakthrough cost him something, and every time he grew stronger, he became emptier. This wasn't a price. It was the essence.

Longevity itself was the prison sentence.

And he—was still serving his time. Nor would he be leaving prison early.

The white skeleton's right hand hung down from its knee, palm open. In the palm lay a finger bone.

Pitch black. A deep golden light shone from within the marrow.

The fifth one.

Lu Chen reached out to take it. The moment his fingers touched the bone, the skeleton disintegrated—not shattering or collapsing, but silently turning into fine powder. The centuries-old skeleton turned into glowing dust in an instant, floating up from the ground, drifting toward the vaulted ceiling, and dissipating into that heatless white light.

Only the finger bone remained, falling to the ground. It hit the stone slab with a crisp sound.

Lu Chen bent down to pick it up. As the finger bone entered his hand, deep golden light surged into his body—from his palm to his arm, to his shoulder, and into his Dantian. The Spiritual Qi in his Dantian surged: seventy-five percent, eighty percent, eighty-five percent, ninety percent—ninety-three percent.

It stopped.

Qi Refining Level 5 Peak. Only half a step away from the sixth level.

It wasn't that the Spiritual Qi was insufficient. There was something blocking him—a transparent wall. Not a physical wall, but one in his heart. The truth of the fifth floor was still weighing on him.

He tucked the finger bone into his robes and turned around. There was another door in the stone chamber—one leading upward. Walking through it would be the exit of the Inverted Tower.

When he reached the door, he looked back once.

Only a pile of fine powder remained where the Ancestral Master had sat. The glowing dust had already completely dissipated.

The crooked line of words on the wall remained—"Longevity is but an infinite prison sentence. I, Li Xuanyi, have served my term. May those who come after—leave this prison soon."

Lu Chen pushed the door.

He walked upward.

Step by step. The night pearls reappeared, the light going from dim to bright. After walking for a long time, the sound of wind came from above. In the wind was the scent of grass and earth—the scent of the surface.

He stepped out of the Inverted Tower.

The sunlight was blinding.

It was the same kind of sunlight as the day he walked out of the Council Hall. So bright it made one unable to open their eyes. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, looking out through the gaps between his fingers—

The back mountain of the Danding Sect. The bluestone slabs were still there, and the word "Tower" on them was still there. The grass was the same grass, and the trees were the same trees.

But something was wrong.

The color of the leaves on the trees was wrong—they were dark green when he entered, but now they were a tender green.

It was spring.

How long had he stayed in the Inverted Tower—was it one month? Or three?

"Lu Chen."

Someone was calling him on the mountain path. The voice sounded urgent.

It was Su Qing. She was wearing a cyan robe, her hair held by a silver hairpin, and she was running fast, as if she had been searching for a long time. Seeing him emerge from beneath the bluestone slabs, she stopped in her tracks, panting, her face pale.

"You were inside for three months."

Three months.

Lu Chen looked down at his hand. The white thread on his wrist was still there—six loops, seven knots. The thread hadn't changed, but his hand was much thinner. The bones protruded, skin clinging to bone.

"Something has happened in the sect," Su Qing said. "Elder Sun's remnants have made their move. Three people—the three core members on your list—acted together last night. The Sect Head was injured."

Lu Chen lowered his hand. Sunlight shone on his face, but it had no warmth.

He could not feel the warmth of the sun.

Nor could he feel anything else.

Three months. On the fourth floor, he forgot himself. On the fifth floor, he saw the truth.

After coming out—was he still Lu Chen?

tianxuan calendar, 19th Year of taiping, Spring.

Lu Chen, Qi Refining Level 5 Peak. Dantian at ninety-three percent.

The fourth finger bone in hand. The fifth finger bone also in hand.

Compassion—gone.

Next—Elder Sun's remnants. Three people.