novelraw Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
Chapter 3 : Chapter 3
Chapter 3: Buddha's Relic
I gripped the Yellow Dragon Sword tightly, peering through the cracked cabin window at the outside.
The boundary between the sky and the snowy ice had blurred beyond recognition.
Only occasional flashes of lightning could tear through the snowy clouds, briefly illuminating the chaos.
Thunder roared, winds howled.
Snowflakes, sharp as blades, battered the ship’s hull like a barrage of gunfire.
The bear-like creature was nowhere to be found, its tracks lost.
“College kid, no need to be so tense! No matter how strong that bear-like creature is, it’s as fragile as we are in this harsh weather. Facing such a violent blizzard, it’s surely retreated to its lair.”
Xie Jin was Second Mate Xie Tianshu’s cousin. Though he was also somewhat of a connection hire, he had been selected through official channels, naturally believing it was due to his own merit. Thus, he never saw himself as the same kind as me, holding himself in high esteem.
Of course, no matter how much he looked down on this inexperienced college student, he wouldn’t have targeted me so relentlessly, appearing so graceless, if not for Xie Tianshu’s orders, which were tied to the rivalry between the first and second mates.
I held a different view but didn’t want to argue with Xie Jin, responding with silence.
I continued to vigilantly scan the outside through the window.
“Tap! Tap! Tap…”
A cold female voice came from the direction of the stairs: “That bear-like creature is no longer a normal Earth lifeform. Bullets can’t even penetrate its bones—how could a mere blizzard stop it?”
Cai Yutong descended the stairs, appearing before the security team members.
She was a chemistry Ph.D. student from Capital University, the nation’s top institution, who had unexpectedly gone viral online for her stunning looks.
The security team knew of this beautiful woman on the research vessel, but she was so reclusive, spending most of her time in the lab, that many were seeing her in person for the first time.
She looked exactly like in her online videos, without excessive filters.
In fact, her real-life presence was even more striking.
“Dr. Cai, let me help you carry that. What are these?”
Xie Jin quickly stepped forward, acting gentlemanly, but his overly eager and ingratiating demeanor cheapened his image.
He reached out to take the box Cai Yutong was holding tightly.
Cai Yutong didn’t let him touch it, her tone keeping him at a distance: “Some concentrated acid that can dissolve bodies and freshly made explosives—you’d better not touch them.”
Xie Jin withdrew his hands, wary and embarrassed, forcing a smile: “That’s great! As expected of a chemistry Ph.D.—knowledge is power.”
Cai Yutong, carrying the box, walked toward me by the window and said, “I know you, the basketball prodigy from Capital University’s freshman year. What should I be called?”
“Li Weiyi.”
I hadn’t expected her to know me.
“I’m asking what you should call me,” Cai Yutong said, her tone and demeanor aloof. She was tall, over 1.7 meters, with exquisitely beautiful features.
I gave an awkward smile: “Senior Sister.”
“Help me out, gently, and be steady,” Cai Yutong said.
I quickly leaned the Yellow Dragon Sword against the wall and, with both hands, carefully helped Cai Yutong lower the box steadily to the floor.
Between alumni, even if we’d never met before, there was always a special bond and trust when meeting far from home.
Having practiced martial arts since childhood, my physical strength and reaction speed far surpassed ordinary people. The basketball scholarship was just one way to gain extra points. If I wanted, I could develop another specialty in a few months.
Xie Jin returned to the security team members, maintaining his smile.
Seeing the team members, who had once flattered him, now winking and exchanging strange looks, Xie Jin felt a mix of shame and annoyance, unable to keep up his fake smile. Seeing me and Cai Yutong interacting familiarly only added another layer of bitterness.
If his earlier targeting of me was at Xie Tianshu’s behest, now he genuinely harbored some jealousy and resentment.
Over there.
Cai Yutong opened the box, explaining the usage and precautions for the items inside. Her eyes frequently met mine up close, her hair brushing my face in the cold wind, carrying a faint fragrance.
“Senior Sister, are you handing this entire box over to me?” I asked.
Cai Yutong, not adept at social niceties, countered, “I’m a researcher. Are you suggesting I go fight that bear-like creature?”
“That’s not what I meant… I, I just think the security team members could also learn how to use these,” I said.
Cai Yutong glanced at Xie Jin and the others.
Xie Jin smiled: “Dr. Cai, your junior brother here is a martial arts expert. See that sword? In his mind, that sword is probably more useful than your stuff. He looks down on the rest of us.”
A security team member close to Xie Jin chimed in: “I heard practicing traditional martial arts can cultivate inner strength and true qi. Little Li is the first mate’s junior brother, specially recruited into the security team. He must be one of those types.”
Anyone could hear the provocation in their words.
Pointing out that I was Zhao Meng’s junior brother was their way of telling Cai Yutong that this college kid was unreliable, just a connection hire.
I remained calm: “What inner strength and true qi? Practicing traditional martial arts only strengthens the body. It’s not that mystical—everyone should trust science.”
I’d been training in martial arts since I was five, enduring harsh winters and scorching summers. My martial arts skills were naturally exceptional.
But I was only stronger and faster than the average person, with more refined techniques and moves—nothing like inner strength or true qi.
When the old sect master spoke of the decline of martial arts, I had asked him about it.
He sighed deeply, saying I was born in the wrong era, that my physical prowess was near its limit, and if I’d lived in ancient times, I could have achieved extraordinary feats.
I pressed further, asking why extraordinary feats were possible in ancient times but not now, and how far back “ancient times” meant.
The old sect master was evasive, only saying, “Myths have fallen, locked in endless confinement.”
Though I didn’t understand, it was then that I firmly planted my martial arts ideal of “pursuing the extraordinary.” I would master martial arts, break through the limits of mortal flesh, even if it meant going against the tide of the era.
Young people always have a defiant streak.
The more elders said something was difficult or impossible, the more determined I was to prove them wrong.
…
Xie Jin said, “Little Li, no need to be modest! We’re all on the same side—no need to hide your skills. Show us a thing or two. I don’t believe an upright guy like the first mate would recruit a slacker. We’re all curious about inner strength and true qi—let us see it!”
Xie Tianshu had instructed Xie Jin to target me, with the ultimate goal of undermining Zhao Meng’s authority.
If I proved to be a fraud, Zhao Meng’s decision to specially recruit me into the security team would tarnish his reputation among the crew.
This wasn’t the first time I’d been provoked. I wasn’t made of clay—I had my own youthful pride: “If someone doesn’t provoke me, I don’t provoke them. But if they do, don’t blame me.” I said, “Since Brother Jin insists, we can spar a bit.”
Cheers and jeers erupted in the boarding hall.
Even Cai Yutong, usually indifferent to everything, showed a flicker of interest.
Xie Jin had been waiting for this chance for over a month, especially in front of the beautiful Cai Yutong. In high spirits, he said with a gentlemanly air, “Alright, but let’s be clear—we stop short of real harm, no hard feelings.”
But in his mind, he thought differently.
Once the fight started, there was no stopping short.
In front of a beauty, neither would back down.
One would have to beat the other into submission.
The two of us faced off briefly.
Xie Jin closed the distance, let out a low shout, and lunged forward.
His hands formed claws.
He sidestepped left while raising his right knee.
A security team member exclaimed, “Black Dragon Eighteen Forms.”
This was a vicious martial art banned in the military for its ruthlessness.
Xie Jin’s opening move was the Green Dragon Claw Probe from the Black Dragon Eighteen Forms, executed with seasoned skill, clearly honed through years of practice. This wasn’t about stopping short—he intended to at least dislocate one of my arms.
A muffled “thud” sounded.
In a blur of movement, before anyone could see what happened, Xie Jin was already sprawled on the floor.
Only my right palm strike remained angled in midair.
I didn’t know the Black Dragon Eighteen Forms. All I knew was that as long as I was fast enough and strong enough, any opponent’s moves were just flashy nonsense.
With the bear-like creature possibly attacking the ship again at any moment, I had to end this quickly, not wanting Xie Jin’s antics to delay matters of life and death.
The security team members stood up, exchanging glances, visibly shaken.
Even if Xie Jin had underestimated me, his physical prowess was undeniable. For me to knock him down with a single palm strike, the speed and force of that blow stunned them.
Cai Yutong stood a few meters behind me by the window. When Xie Jin attacked, even she had felt the danger and pressure.
But how did he end up on the floor so fast?
“All show, no substance?”
The thought crossed her mind, but she unwittingly muttered it aloud.
Xie Jin’s neck ached as if cramped, his head spinning, ears ringing. Just as he regained his hearing, he caught Cai Yutong’s words, nearly fainting from rage.
“Thud! Thud! Thud…”
The sound of running came from the stairs.
The short student who loved poetry and myths rushed into the boarding hall, ecstatic: “I figured it out! That bear-like creature is the legendary Ghost Bear Emperor. It’s said to be a polar bear king that absorbed auroras and consumed vast amounts of carrion, mutating and gaining ghostly intelligence.”
Silence.
A long silence.
The short student gave an awkward smile, noticing Xie Jin being helped to a corner, and exclaimed, “What’s going on? Have you already been attacked?”
Another silence.
“I’ll leave this to you. I’m heading back to the lab.”
“Boom!”
Just as Cai Yutong reached the stairs, a familiar heavy thud echoed from the deck outside the cabin door, shaking the boarding hall’s floor.
Everyone’s faces changed, and they grabbed their weapons.
It was here!
…
The leadership of the Dragon Pole took the elevator down to the lowest cabin level.
As they walked, Director Yang explained, “The underground chamber of the Ganlu Temple’s relic pagoda was sealed since the Song Dynasty and wasn’t opened until 1960, a millennium later. The archaeological team packed the rectangular stone casket they excavated and sent it to the lab.”
“Inside the stone casket was a small silver coffin. When the silver coffin was opened, it revealed an even smaller golden coffin.”
“Only when the golden coffin was opened did the Buddha’s relic, preserved in a crystal container, come into view. Everyone, please come in!”
Why suddenly mention the Buddha’s relic?
The doors of Lab 705 opened, and the group filed in, their confusion deepening.
The lab was filled with various precision instruments. At the center of the main platform was the crystal container holding the Buddha’s relic.
The relic, about the size of a soybean, was pale red.
Director Yang stood beside the relic, smiling as he asked, “You’re all learned people—what’s your view on the microscopic world?”
Seeing their puzzled looks, Director Yang offered a lead: “At the microscopic scale, many classical physical laws no longer apply, replaced by quantum mechanics principles like quantum entanglement, superposition, and tunneling effects.”
“There’s a theory that to leave Earth, to leave the solar system, we won’t do it through traditional interstellar space but by exploring the microscopic world. Just like we can transmit sound thousands of miles with a phone—not by shouting louder, but through microscopic-level information transfer.”
“Space wormholes, which we’ve never found, might not be rare in the microscopic world.”
“In short, the strangeness and mystery of the microscopic world will challenge our conventional understanding.”
“Some say we’ve only explored five percent of the ocean. How much do we know of the microscopic world? One percent? I’d say not even one ten-thousandth.”
Everyone in the room stared at him coldly, as if looking at an academic heretic.
Understanding that words alone wouldn’t convince them, Director Yang pointed to the high-powered scanning tunneling microscope aimed at the Buddha’s relic: “See for yourselves!”
“Let’s see what nonsense you’re spouting.”
Professor Xu, who had been tolerating him for a while, stepped up first, peering at the Buddha’s relic through the microscope.
Moments later.
The nearly sixty-year-old but still robust professor’s legs trembled, and he slid to the floor, eyes filled with shock and confusion, muttering words no one could understand.
Zhao Meng, burning with curiosity, wondered how Professor Xu, who could calmly face creatures like the bear-like monster and the Nine Infants, could be so shaken by this.
It was just a relic!
What did he see?
After helping Professor Xu up, Zhao Meng was the second to look through the microscope.
The Buddha’s relic, only the size of a soybean in the crystal container, appeared under the microscope.
It was like a vast pale red planet, with towering, rugged mountains, dried ancient riverbeds, desolate yet expansive, a breathtaking sight that shook the soul.
It was as if standing in space, gazing down at the boundless desolation of Mars.
A tiny relic contained an entire world.
This was too unbelievable!
No…
At such a microscopic scale, the microscope should have revealed the relic’s crystalline structure.
Why was this happening?
Suddenly.
Zhao Meng felt suffocated, witnessing an even more unimaginable scene on the Buddha’s relic.
At the end of the ancient riverbeds was a vast, deep red dried sea, its vibrant seabed as if stained with blood.
An ancient, eerie bronze ship sat quietly on the shore of the dried sea, its origin and destination unknown.
It had been silent for countless ages, its hull rusted, yet the mast’s sailcloth remained faintly discernible.
Director Yang, standing nearby, increased the microscope’s magnification.
Zhao Meng saw more clearly, his scalp tingling instinctively.
In his field of view, the bronze ship grew enormous. The deck was littered with skeletal remains—armored human bones, phoenix corpses, python skeletons, and an endless sea of tombstone forests.
The phoenix corpses and python skeletons were especially massive.
A single feather of the phoenix was dozens of times larger than the armored human skeletons. It lay near the ship’s tower, one wing covering the tombstone forest, the other draped over the nine-story tower.
Perhaps it was an illusion, but Zhao Meng could swear the phoenix’s feathers emitted a faint glow.
The microscope’s magnification was limited, leaving much unclear.
But one could imagine that boarding this grand, mysterious ship would reveal even more astonishing sights, perhaps opening the door to a fantastical and enigmatic world.
The ship…
No.
It was only 460 nanometers long, like a speck of dust on the Buddha’s relic.
Without a microscope, it would be as unnoticeable as the billions of dust particles on Earth.
…