Crushed.
Condensed.
Kneaded.
Compressed.
That writhing mass of eyeballs was squeezed and worked like bread dough, until it finally manifested into a small crystalline block, as solid as the black bone from the depths of the Abyss. Dark and heavy, with a faint gleam.
Only one small component was set aside.
—A single eye, the prettiest of the lot. Round and plump, bright and glistening. It rolled around once, as if still trying to figure out what had happened.
Ling held it up for inspection, turning it over twice. "Much easier on the eyes now."
"I… I'm gone?" A feeble voice emerged from the remnant.
"My cultivation… my malevolent aura… my tens of thousands of ghost-lives… all gone?"
"Yep. Gone." Ling toyed with the black crystal tube in her hand—what had once been the ghost-eye's proudest source of power.
"Now you're just scrap."
Her tone was calm, like a surgeon who'd just finished an operation, informing the patient: Surgery was successful, tumor completely excised. With a hint of satisfaction at her own handiwork.
"Wuu… wuuuuu…" The little eyeball suddenly burst into tears, fat droplets rolling down.
"So sad… so quiet… so happy… so miserable… I…"
Ling paid no attention to this idiot's inexplicable flood of mixed emotions.
She didn't hesitate, cutting off her pain perception with a sliver of hopeful expectation. Sure enough, her vision was instantly drowned in explosive red light. Shrill alarms nearly blew the roof off her consciousness:
"Warning! Disabling pain perception will force activation of deep hibernation state. Based on current conditions, assessment: suicidal behavior (confidence 99.99% (CI [99.98, 100.00])). Deliberate destruction of Heavenly Court property will result in severe criminal penalties… Please…"
"Okay okay okay, I won't disable it, I won't, shouldn't have even tried." Ling didn't waste her breath. She accepted her fate. Bracing her consciousness against the numbing assault of system alerts, she took a deep breath and picked out a short, worn-down vessel from the tangled mess of celestial meridians at random—the pathway that maintained her right eye's vision.
Her gaze turned vicious, pupils contracting. She ripped it out.
"Ngh—ahhh!"
Catastrophic pain exploded from deep within her right eye socket, like a burning hook had been thrust into her cerebral cortex, violently tearing away the string that connected her to the world.
For an instant, Ling felt her right brain had been hollowed out. Her entire right field of vision plunged into absolute darkness, accompanied by the sizzling, burning sensation of severed nerve endings firing wildly. Half her face went numb, while the muscles deep in her eye socket spasmed uncontrollably from neural reflex.
The celestial meridian, cut off from energy, rapidly withered at her fingertips, fading until it resembled a piece of rotted straw.
Enduring pain intense enough to induce shock, Ling trembled as she forced herself to align the "ghost vessel"—now smooth as ink jade yet radiating bone-deep cold—with the severed connection point. She drove it in with a sharp thrust, like hammering in a steel nail, forcing this black jade anomaly into place.
A scorching sound came from within her body.
Succeed or die trying.
?? 【 SYSTEM WARNING: HARDWARE MODIFICATION 】
● Status Monitor:
Original celestial meridian (VS-092) has been
physically removed
● Port Feedback:
Current connected device: 【 UNRECOGNIZED 】
● System Response:
Running disconnection diagnostic…
Report will be sent to Heavenly Court Asset
Management Bureau in 30 seconds
(30… 29… 28…)
?? 【 Friendly Reminder: Know Your Celestial Law 】
Theft or misappropriation of Heavenly Court assets
constitutes serious criminal activity.
Per Amendment 472 of the "Heavenly Court Asset
Protection Act":
Severe cases punishable by fines of 100,000-200,000
Merit Burns, plus mandatory reincarnation in the
Animal Realm for 100-200 years.
Please cherish your cultivation achievements ?
Ling cursed silently. She should have known the Court was cut from the same cloth as Dax—couldn't do their actual jobs worth a damn, but guarded their scrap metal like hawks.
She glanced at the countdown.
"25… 24… 23…"
No time to hesitate. Ling yanked out the knockoff she'd just installed.
She closed her eyes again, sinking her consciousness into the black crystal still warm.
Back to the forge.
The crystal began softening under her touch, edges blurring like a piece of black glass candy melting.
All those chaotic patterns, rough fractures, lingering traces of malevolence—she ground them down, kneaded them apart, remixed everything.
"15… 14… 13…"
Fine beads of sweat appeared on the celestial maiden's forehead, while the Ling inside spread open the "genuine" celestial meridian she'd removed—like opening a precision casting mold—and poured the softened black crystal in.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
"10… 9… 8…"
The crystal flowed along the original vessel's patterns, filling every groove, conforming to every node, replicating every anti-counterfeiting watermark—all perfectly duplicated.
It was almost done—
Something was wrong.
The "genuine" vessel began to tremble.
The black crystal's density was too high. The original's flimsy materials couldn't contain it—like using a paper cup to hold molten iron. The walls were already warping, bulging, about to burst.
"7… 6… 5…"
Ling's eyes went sharp. No other choice. She violently summoned her soul's core essence—that terrifying, all-crushing "ultra-high pressure" from the depths of the Turbid Abyss.
The force was so immense it affected even the physical body. The maiden's delicate face began to contort—brow knotted tight, jaw clenched, blue veins bulging at her pale temples, every tendon in her neck standing out in sharp relief. Those features that should have been graceful and elegant now twisted into something almost unrecognizable.
No—more accurately—
This was the true face of what lurked inside.
Those eyes that should have been soft and alluring were now wide and round, dark patterns spreading through their depths. Like cracks appearing in a porcelain doll's glaze, revealing the pitch-black form beneath. Even the celestial maiden system was terrified, frantically spitting out warnings:
?? Expression management module overloaded, auto-correction failed
?? Warning: Current expression deviates from "Dignified Dharma Appearance Index" by 297%
Ling had no time for it. An invisible force surged from all directions, clamping down around the mold on the verge of collapse. The black crystal trapped within underwent rapid quenching under that pressure, hardening into shape.
Patterns began surfacing—fine, precise, perfectly replicating every physical characteristic code of the original spiritual vessel. Even the distinctive anti-counterfeiting patterns unique to the "Vessel Forging Sect" were clearly visible.
Hexagram base pattern. Cloud motifs in hidden relief. And along the edge, a manufacturing code so small it was nearly invisible.
Identical in every way. So fake even its own mother wouldn't recognize the difference.
Meanwhile, the original vessel couldn't hold out. Under the pressure, it began to liquefy, squeezed down into a viscous, iridescent puddle.
"5… 4… 3…"
Ling took a deep breath.
"2… 1…"
The pressure released all at once.
Demolded.
Inserted.
"0."
A soft click from the connection point, like a puzzle piece snapping into place.
The system chimed:
? HARDWARE IDENTIFIED (Success)
● Device Type : Standard Celestial Meridian
(Right Eye Branch)
● Serial No. : VFS-7749-XXXX-0092
● Manufacturer : Manufacturing Division ·
Vessel Forging Sect
● Status : Normal (Warranty Expired)
?? [ SYSTEM WARNING RESCINDED ]
System log sync:
"Hardware YX-092 back online. Status: Excellent."
?? Friendly Reminder:
Please maintain elegant celestial maiden posture.
Move with care. Avoid strenuous activity to prevent
spiritual vessel strain or detachment.
PS: New practitioner discount in effect!
Upgrade to Ultra-Clear 4K Pro Eye Meridians
for only ?199/unit
Wishing you pleasant usage ?
Ling stared at this "friendly reminder," the corner of her mouth twitching.
She opened both eyes.
Ling's vision began to shudder violently.
Ling issued a "visual synchronization test" command in her consciousness. A lopsided diagnostic report flickered to life: her left eye was chugging along at a grainy 480p, while the right was screaming in lossless 4K HDR. The forced alignment hadn't even reached sixty percent when a muffled _zap_ crackled from the back of her skull.
"Ngh—!" Ling grunted, her body going rigid.
An intense burning sensation exploded from her occipital bone, like someone had poured a ladle of molten iron into the back of her head. A torrential flood of raw signals was crashing with devastating force directly against her still-locked core.
This was like cramming an entire library's collection into a hamster's brain in one second. Not a question of whether you could finish reading it. A question of whether your brain would explode on the spot.
The pre-dawn alley was rendered in excruciating detail by her right eye. Broken glass on the ground refracted the distant streetlamp's flicker; the ink diffusion and paper fibers of utility pole advertisements were visible down to the finest strand. Wynn on the car roof—the viscous spray pattern of his blood and the trembling of torn flesh, all crystal clear. And the boy in front of her—his pores, the minute tremors of his pupils from fear, even the loose thread at his collar—all presented on her retina with merciless high definition.
Too much information.
So much her brain was starting to smoke.
?? [EMERGENCY WARNING]
Central processing unit temperature abnormal
Current core temp: 89°C
Overheat protection imminent…
The image in her right eye began stuttering, repeating, like a scratched old VCD.
Ling felt her consciousness being torn in two.
Ling was completely speechless. Every time she thought she'd accepted just how pathetic this fancy shell was, it would tear through rock bottom to show her there was a basement beneath the basement.
The school-uniformed boy who'd narrowly escaped death was shakily getting to his feet, about to approach. Ling reached out directly and yanked the gold wire-rimmed glasses off his face, settling them on her own nose.
She rapped sharply on the "ghost-eye" with her consciousness—now reduced to a single eye.
"Hey. These glasses are your anchor, right? Get in there and turn the picture down to 480p!"
"Filter! Now!"
The one-eyed General bristled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
"480p?!"
"Madam, that's an insult to this General!"
"How is that different from being blind??"
It protested indignantly: "This General was meant to peer into the Nine Heavens above and survey the Netherworld below! A peerless Demon King!"
"480p? You might as well just smash me!"
Ling was braced against the wall, retching until she saw stars, stomach acid practically coming up. Who had the patience for this chuunibyou eyewear's dramatic manifesto?
She bared her "fangs" directly—that thing gleaming with cold light in the void. Made as if to continue grinding down this clueless piece of junk.
The eyeball visibly deflated.
Pride? What pride? Does it put food on the table?
It shook like a leaf, voice cracking:
"Alright alright! I'm going, I'm going."
"480p, right? I'll lower it!… Um, would 720p work? Dropping that much is really exhausting…"
"Ah… no no, my mistake!"
"480! 480 right away!"
The world finally went "clean." Though the image quality was now a blurry mess, at least it was smooth and controllable.
Ling checked the background processes—sure enough, with this garbage configuration, just running a "filter plugin" had visibly loosened things up.
Ling checked the background processes—sure enough, with this garbage configuration, just running a "filter plugin" had visibly loosened things up. The CPU load had finally dropped to 65%, a full thirty percent down from its peak, and while the RAM was still sitting at a precarious 88% usage, her vision was no longer a stuttering mess. The frame rate had stabilized at a locked 24 fps—cinematic, perhaps, but at least she had temporarily escaped the misery of living in a slideshow.
Ling straightened up, rolled her shoulders, tested her grip, then roughly wiped her face on Dax's trench coat sleeve, leaving a large smear of grime.
Not bad. That constant half-beat delay was much less noticeable now.
Ling exhaled with relief, adjusted the glasses, right eye flickering with an ominous gleam, corner of her mouth curving into a dangerous smile.
Understanding this, Ling felt like she finally had a handle on things.
For a brewmaster like Ling, there was no liquor that couldn't be brewed—only recipes not yet assembled.
Remembering Wynn's fate was still uncertain, Ling strode forward to check on him.
Two blinding headlights cut straight toward her, so bright she couldn't keep her eyes open…