Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Bridgeway Art

The insect sea closed in again.

The lake had only bought them a breath. It could never stop a tide like this.

“Careful,” Wen Zhao warned.

Wang Jie turned just in time to see a streak of yellow—an Eighth Seal mutated hornet.

Wen Zhao’s eyes swept the chaos. “Five Eighth Seal insects. They’ve surrounded us.”

Her voice sharpened with disbelief. “That girl Chong Ruo Ruo is controlling this many Eighth Seal insects.”

Zuo Tian cut in, wary. “How do you know there are five?”

Before Wen Zhao could answer, the hornets hit.

A storm of wings.

From the rear right, a stinger ripped through the air, fast enough to blur, driving straight for the back of Zuo Tian’s head.

He couldn’t dodge.

It was too fast.

But his shadow moved.

It detached like a living thing—an eerie, silent ghost—and slammed into the stinger at the last instant, knocking it aside.

Even Wen Zhao faltered, startled.

His shadow… was alive?

The deflected stinger whipped past—and whether by chance or design, it shot toward Wang Jie.

Wang Jie kicked it aside.

The ground split.

A massive black scorpion erupted, its tail carving the air in a sweeping arc. The stinger gleamed dark green with poison.

Wen Zhao flashed into Jia Eight Steps, slipping out of range.

Wang Jie matched her, staying close.

Only Zuo Tian couldn’t.

He didn’t know Jia Eight Steps, and the scorpion’s reach swallowed him whole.

At the same time, hornets poured down like a curtain, blotting out the sky.

“Go,” Wang Jie said.

He turned and ran.

Wen Zhao glanced back once… then followed.

She knew exactly what Wang Jie was doing.

He had dragged Zuo Tian outside to kill him.

The “bigger picture,” the idea of uniting against outside threats—those were luxuries.

In the apocalypse, everyone believed the same thing:

I can die, but my enemy dies first.

Wang Jie believed it.

Zuo Tian believed it too.

Jia Eight Steps was short-range footwork, built for dodging in tight space. It couldn’t be sustained forever.

Wang Jie and Wen Zhao both knew other movement techniques as well. They were fast—but still trapped inside the insect sea’s territory.

All they could do was avoid getting boxed in and executed.

Wang Jie’s eyes snapped toward a distant line of ruined streets.

“That way.”

Wen Zhao’s brows lifted. “That’s toward Shang Jing City.”

Wang Jie’s gaze hardened. “What happens when insects collide with mutated beasts?”

Understanding flickered across her face.

If they couldn’t grind down the insect sea, and Shang Jing City couldn’t afford to, then they had to throw the tide into the danger zone.

They were still close to the safe zone.

Next came the wilderness—where mutated life ruled.

Behind them, insects chased in endless layers. Eighth Seal insects hunted like hounds.

They were everywhere. Sky. Ground. Underground.

Imprint Power drained with every breath.

Even absorbing on the run couldn’t keep pace.

They thought night would bring more insects.

They forgot: night belonged to plants.

Mutated plants bloomed after dark. The stronger the plant, the more likely it was to surface at night.

Strange—but it had always been that way.

By sunset, Wang Jie and Wen Zhao finally crossed out of the safe zone.

Night fell.

Gigantic mutated plants burst from the earth, and the insect sea collided with them in a slaughter that shook the ground. Beast roars rolled through the distance—warnings, challenges, screams.

Wang Jie and Wen Zhao slipped into an abandoned high-rise and crouched, suppressing their presence until even their breathing seemed to vanish.

They met each other’s eyes in the dim.

“You can use Breath-Concealing Method too,” Wen Zhao murmured.

Wang Jie watched the insect tide outside split and flow around the building, searching.

“Daytime, we can’t escape their sight,” he said quietly. “Night is different. Especially in a high-rise—higher floors get fewer insects.”

“You’re underestimating Chong Ruo Ruo,” Wen Zhao warned.

“And you’re underestimating the danger zone,” Wang Jie replied. “Ten years, and Hua Xia has only built the five major bases. We keep expanding the safe zones and they’re still tiny.

“Those mutated plants are a big reason why.”

Wen Zhao didn’t argue. She glanced out once more, then pulled out disaster materials and handed them to him.

Wang Jie accepted them without hesitation. “Thanks.”

Wen Zhao’s eyes softened, just a fraction. “I should be thanking you. Without you, I’d already be in her hands.”

“You won’t die,” Wang Jie said.

“No,” Wen Zhao agreed. “But I won’t have a good time.”

Wang Jie remained perfectly concealed while absorbing Imprint Power—no leak, no flare, nothing.

Wen Zhao watched, even more unsettled. “That’s not ordinary Breath-Concealing Method. That’s Toad Breath—one of the Eighteen Ultimate Techniques.”

Her gaze sharpened. “How do you know so many battle skills?”

Wang Jie didn’t answer. He didn’t plan to.

So that crouching trick he’d copied as a kid had a name.

Toad Breath.

Wen Zhao studied him. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re not a native at all… but some kind of special disciple from within the sect.”

“Special disciple?” Wang Jie asked, curious despite himself.

Wen Zhao nodded—then abruptly rose. “Move. Insects are coming.”

Wang Jie followed as she led them down to the next floor.

A moment later, the building shuddered.

Something outside was tearing it apart.

Wen Zhao’s expression tightened. “Chong Ruo Ruo isn’t stupid. She knows how to force us out.”

Wang Jie dragged a hand down his face. “How can Heaven-Insect People even exist? She’s only Eighth Seal, yet she controls an insect sea. She has multiple Eighth Seal insects like pets. It makes no sense.”

“The universe doesn’t care about sense,” Wen Zhao said.

They moved again.

And again.

They kept dodging through the collapsing skeleton of the city.

Far away, Chong Ruo Ruo decided she was done with all of this for the night. Staying up late ruined skin.

Before sleeping, she issued one order:

Destroy every high-rise in the area.

Let’s see where they hide.

Little Zhao Er, you’re dead.

And that vicious man, too.

When the horizon finally paled, Wang Jie nudged Wen Zhao awake.

“Time to move.”

Wen Zhao had stood guard most of the night. Only she could sense insects closing in.

Wang Jie had taken over more than an hour ago, and with dawn near, being spotted mattered less—but sleep had been a joke. Buildings collapsed again and again. They’d changed hiding places three times and barely avoided being found.

Wen Zhao sat up, pulled clean water from the storage ring, washed her face, brushed her teeth, then turned her back and replaced her veil with a fresh, thin one.

Wang Jie shattered the window.

They sprinted.

Chong Ruo Ruo spotted them and shrieked, delighted. “There! Chase them!”

The insect sea surged after them.

And once it moved through an area, it left it clean.

The dangerous mutated plants that ruled the night were ripped apart. Even mutated beasts withdrew, refusing to challenge the tide.

If they were running anyway, Wang Jie decided to use the insect sea.

He dragged it in circles around Shang Jing City, letting it clear the surrounding danger zone.

Disaster materials dropped everywhere. He collected them on the move, smoother with each day.

Anything he missed could be picked up later—there was no competition now.

What cultivator from Shang Jing City would dare step outside?

Not everyone could survive an insect sea the way he could.

Three days passed in a blur of flight and slaughter.

Wang Jie and Wen Zhao were both top-tier on Blue Star. The insect sea was vast, and the Eighth Seal insects were lethal, but it still couldn’t end them instantly.

Instead, they adapted.

Wen Zhao’s Bridgeway Art kept them from walking into a true dead end—and helped them find places to rest.

Chong Ruo Ruo grew furious. She stomped and screamed and summoned more insects.

But the more insects gathered in the danger zone, the more other mutated life gathered to fight back.

Even Shang Jing City noticed the tide’s strange pattern.

It was circling the base.

Clearing the surrounding danger zone.

Like someone walking a dog.

Two more days passed.

Wang Jie’s Jia Eight Steps advanced to the sixth step.

Real combat really was the fastest teacher.

Wen Zhao reached the sixth step too—closer and closer to Ninth Seal.

How long had it been?

She was from the first batch of trialists. She’d broken through from Seventh Seal to Eighth Seal, and now she was nearing Ninth.

Wang Jie finally understood why Jia Yi Sect sent trialists in batches.

It was the closest thing to fairness.

When the third batch arrived, Wen Zhao would be even stronger.

Then it hit.

A voice inside Wang Jie’s bones, cold and unavoidable:

“Begin the eighth set of Basic Fitness Routine now.”

Wang Jie nearly stumbled.

Now?

Again?

Earlier than before?

All around them, insects clogged the air. Wen Zhao’s sword flashed—sharper, faster, stronger than ever.

Wang Jie swallowed. “Uh… hold them off a bit. I have to… do something.”

Wen Zhao whipped her head toward him, incredulous. “What?”

“One, two, three, four,” Wang Jie started.

Wen Zhao stared like he’d lost his mind.

A massive black scorpion charged in, stinger poised, stabbing down with savage force.

“Wang Jie!” Wen Zhao shouted, fury cutting through her fatigue. “Are you insane? This is not the time to do exercises! Even if you’re breaking through—”

He didn’t have a choice.

If he didn’t do it, the wrist guard would melt him.

Wang Jie shut his eyes and kept moving.

Not only moving—he grabbed disaster materials and absorbed Imprint Power while his body forced the routine through.

Wen Zhao’s heart sank.

She wanted to abandon him.

But she couldn’t run alone.

Without him, she would never carve her way out.

She gritted her teeth, flashed into Jia Eight Steps, and circled him like a shield, sword cutting down every insect that slipped too close.

“Wang Jie!” she screamed again.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

In the distance, Chong Ruo Ruo stared, wide-eyed.

What was that man doing?

Some kind of ritual?

Her caution spiked instantly.

Wen Zhao’s pupils flickered. A stream of light ignited within her eyes.

The world shifted.

The insects vanished from her vision, replaced by twisting currents—airflow, pressure, threat-lines.

Bridgeway Art.

She filtered the battlefield by danger, ignoring the weak and locking onto the real killers.

To an outsider, it looked like madness.

Fifth Seal insects slammed into her, and she didn’t even react—because she couldn’t see them. She took the hits and drove her sword straight for the scorpion.

A blow knocked her back. Blood sprayed from her lips.

But the scorpion’s tail was severed, and it retreated in panic.

Wen Zhao moved like she’d thrown her life away. She turned, slashing into another Eighth Seal insect.

Smaller insects kept striking her—arms, calves, back. Poison burned into her skin. Her veil fell away. Wounds opened deep enough to show bone.

Her Jia Eight Steps hit its limit.

Insect corpses piled in layers around her feet.

Still, she stayed over Wang Jie.

Still, she protected him.

That included the scorpion’s corpse.