Chapter 85

Chapter 85: Thunder Well

Once the mark appeared, the mission had a time limit. If they didn’t make contact in time, the other party would vanish.

Xia Bei Yi stole a glance at Wang Jie and Jiang Cai, weighing how to shake them and slip away to meet the contact.

Wang Jie, meanwhile, was thinking about the opposite problem—how to get his hands on whatever was being handed off.

If they were willing to use a timed mark, the item had to matter.

Each man carried his own schemes as they returned to the puppeteer tower. Along the way, Xia Bei Yi turned on the charm, calling Wang Jie “brother” every other sentence and even talking about “family.” His greatest grievance remained the same: Wang Jie still refused to tell him his name.

A month passed.

During that time, Xia Bei Yi approached Wang Jie three times, each time suggesting they go out and “take a look around.”

Each time, Wang Jie named his price: a second-tribulation chen artifact.

Xia Bei Yi was so furious he nearly slapped Wang Jie to death on the spot.

As if he had that many second-tribulation chen artifacts.

He wasn’t in the Frost Splendor Star Chain. And even if he did have them, he couldn’t hand them out like candy. Paying a second-tribulation chen artifact just to take a stroll would raise every eyebrow in the city. It practically screamed trouble.

Even an idiot would know something was off.

Then Jiang You Sheng returned.

He greeted Wang Jie with obvious gratitude and produced a palm-sized piece of thunder-pattern gold for him to examine.

Wang Jie reached out. The moment his fingers brushed it, a sharp numbness crawled through his hand. His eyes lit with genuine appreciation. “Excellent material.”

Jiang You Sheng laughed. “If Master likes it, I’ll give it to you.”

Wang Jie shook his head. “Tower Lord gathered this with great difficulty from the Thunder Well. I can’t take it.”

“It’s nothing. I can always collect more.” Jiang You Sheng’s expression turned solemn. “I heard the Mad Clan invited Master to star-refining. And you accepted an order for two hundred chen artifacts?”

Wang Jie didn’t answer right away.

“Three hundred days,” Jiang You Sheng continued. “Are you confident, Master? If you’re in a bind, I can negotiate. The Mad Clan will still give me some face.”

Wang Jie waved it off. “Pressure is motivation. I want to push my star-refining speed anyway. It’s fine.”

Jiang You Sheng sighed in admiration. “Master’s star-refining speed is the fastest I’ve seen in my life. Truly.”

They chatted awhile longer. At one point, Jiang You Sheng mentioned the essentials of chen art, and Wang Jie—uncharacteristically generous—took his copy out and placed it in Jiang You Sheng’s hands.

There was nothing to hide. And there was nothing else to do.

Jiang You Sheng tried to refuse. “This is something Master obtained with great effort. How can I read it for free?”

“Tower Lord is being too distant.” Wang Jie smiled. “We hit it off at first sight. What ‘free’ is there between us? Read.”

Jiang You Sheng accepted it with a heavy sigh. “The cultivation world is full of traps and knives. It’s rare to meet someone as straightforward as Master. That’s my good fortune.”

He flipped through the pages carefully, then fell into thought. “Does Master feel it will help?”

Wang Jie nodded. “Lockforce and starforce overlap in certain ways. I don’t know how far that overlap goes, but if I can master chen art and apply it to lockforce… I should be able to take another step.”

His gaze sharpened. “How many people spend their entire lives unable to step into the Star-Breaking Realm? I’m not worried about reaching the Star-Breaking Realm. But this gives me a clear direction beyond it.”

Jiang You Sheng handed the book back. “Then Master should come with me to the Thunder Well. It’s the best place to cultivate chen art.”

At Wang Jie’s look, he began to explain.

According to Jiang You Sheng, the Thunder Well suppressed both starforce and lockforce. Training there made control of those powers dramatically easier once you left—twice the results for half the effort. It also drew countless beings who came to cultivate, each of them clinging to the edge of the lightning hell to temper themselves.

“There isn’t just one Thunder Well in the universe,” Jiang You Sheng said. “The ninth star chain has one, and other star chains I’ve visited have them too. Every Thunder Well becomes a magnet. You’ll find cultivators, beasts, all kinds of creatures—anyone with the courage to endure it.”

“Where is it?” Wang Jie asked.

Jiang You Sheng gave the direction.

Wang Jie calculated quickly. His current position still didn’t meet the distance requirement for sorrowwater art—but a trip to the Thunder Well likely would. And if the Thunder Well truly made cultivation twice as efficient, it was worth considering.

Besides, Jiang You Sheng had no reason to harm him.

If he wanted Wang Jie dead, he could have done it back in the puppeteer tower. Who there could stop him?

Wang Jie agreed.

Jiang You Sheng studied him for a moment. “Master isn’t afraid I’m leading you into danger?”

Wang Jie smiled. “I trust Tower Lord.”

Jiang You Sheng’s eyes flicked to the puppet Wang Jie used as his body in the puppeteer tower. “To be honest, Master, I have a master as well—at the little round lake. He’s been stuck at the peak of Hundred-Star Realm for a long time. One step away from Star-Refining Realm, yet he refuses to take it.”

His voice softened. “He wants more materials, more foundation. He’s been searching, especially for a chen refiner who can help him. If Master is willing… Mentor and I will never mistreat you.”

He stood and bowed deeply.

Wang Jie moved his puppet and helped him up. “Tower Lord, you’re too formal.”

His tone stayed warm, but cautious. “If there’s anything I can do, speak plainly.”

Jiang You Sheng exhaled, as if a stone had finally rolled off his chest. “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

They moved immediately.

There were practical matters, too. Jiang You Sheng would go notify the Mad Clan, and they would bring the star-refining equipment along. Before leaving, Wang Jie added one condition: the puppeteer tower remained sealed. No one inside was allowed out.

Jiang You Sheng frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t want to be dragged into a war,” Wang Jie said smoothly. “If a cultivator from the eighth star chain has infiltrated the tower, what then? Better to keep it locked until things settle.”

Jiang You Sheng felt it was unnecessary, but he still agreed.

Xia Bei Yi, of course, knew none of this. The puppeteer tower had been preparing to lift the seal, and one sentence from Wang Jie slammed it shut again.

In the ninth star chain, interstellar travel didn’t rely on ships.

It relied on a starry sky behemoth.

A massive creature like a beetle, armored in a hard shell, large enough to carry a hundred people inside it like cargo.

With Jiang You Sheng beside him, Wang Jie could only put on a show and pretend to star-refine as they traveled.

Ten days later, they arrived.

The closer they drew to the Thunder Well, the more the universe itself seemed to shake. A roar rolled through the void like a colossal beast devouring everything in its path. Even the beetle trembled, reluctant to approach.

Thunder detonated without end, pouring across the starry sky until it felt as if there was no darkness left to hide in.

Wang Jie looked ahead. Lightning lanced through the black, branching and retracting, swelling and tightening as though the storm itself were breathing.

The Thunder Well.

A vast inferno of lightning.

“The Thunder Well is divided,” Jiang You Sheng said, voice raised against the constant roar, “into the shallow thunder zone, deep thunder zone, heavy thunder zone, and Thunder Abyss.”

He pointed into the storm. “The shallow thunder zone is the outermost layer—countless lightning strikes every second, concentrated in that band. The area isn’t large.

“Deeper in, the deep thunder zone flashes with tens of billions of lightning strikes per second. The heavy thunder zone has hundreds of billions, and the lightning carries gravity.”

Wang Jie’s scalp prickled just hearing it.

“And Thunder Abyss,” Jiang You Sheng said more quietly, “is the bottom. It’s said it doesn’t belong to just the ninth star chain. It connects through the great star clouds, perhaps across the entire universe.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know how. I only know that if you aren’t in the Star-Refining Realm, going into Thunder Abyss is suicide. There’s nowhere to dodge. Once you enter, you’re struck without pause.”

He turned to Wang Jie. “Thunder-pattern gold is usually found in the deep thunder zone. For Master’s cultivation, the very top of the shallow thunder zone is enough. Even then, it’s usually Star-Breaking Realm cultivators who come here to train.”

The beetle refused to go closer.

So Jiang You Sheng led Wang Jie out into open space.

Wang Jie left his puppet body behind on the beetle’s back. There was no point bringing it. A puppet couldn’t endure thunder strikes—better to rely on his own movement and survival.

He felt the familiar edge-of-the-cliff terror settle into his bones. This was the cultivation world. You lived where death could reach you.

He’d survived worse.

At the beginning of the apocalypse on Blue Star, he’d fought day after day to keep children alive—like orphaned strays clinging to the edge of the world. People died constantly. The ground was layered in bones. The dead were consumed until nothing remained.

He had endured that.

He swallowed down his awe and fixed his eyes on the Thunder Well.

Heat scorched his skin. The sound was so overwhelming that speech became meaningless. All he saw was blinding lightning that erased the dark.

Jiang You Sheng watched him closely. Wang Jie was pale, but his gaze didn’t waver.

Most who saw the Thunder Well for the first time panicked. This one felt fear—reverence, even—but not the kind that made you run.

Worthy of a chen refiner.

“Master,” Jiang You Sheng said, “we’re entering.”

Wang Jie nodded once. “I’ll trouble Tower Lord.”

Jiang You Sheng smiled and leapt.

Wang Jie followed.

Lightning surged at them like a predator. Wang Jie’s pupils contracted. Thunder filled the space above and below, left and right. Cold crawled up his spine—the chill of a body facing the certainty of death.

Jiang You Sheng swept his hand. The nearest lightning twisted as if seized by an invisible force and diverted.

Heat slammed into Wang Jie’s lungs. He choked, coughed, and forced himself to breathe.

“Master,” Jiang You Sheng asked, “are you alright?”

Wang Jie panted, then shook his head. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t fine. Not really. Only Star-Breaking Realm cultivators trained here. He was early.

But early didn’t mean impossible.

It meant dangerous.

Jiang You Sheng guided him to a place along the edge, where the lightning thinned just enough to breathe.

“This is a good position,” he said. “If you can’t endure it, you can climb out.”

He pointed beyond the storm. “Look. Houses.”

Only then did Wang Jie notice the structures, scattered along the perimeter like distant stars—some large, some small, separated by vast stretches of exposed void. They were built for the cultivators and creatures who came to live near the Thunder Well.

“Some are permanent,” Jiang You Sheng explained. “Some are rentals. The closest one if you climb up from here is mine. If you can’t handle it, return at any time.”

They climbed out to the house.

The moment the door shut, the roar didn’t vanish—but it dropped from unbearable to merely crushing. At least they could hear themselves speak.

Wang Jie was soaked through with sweat, his face drained of color, his skin trembling as if it couldn’t decide whether to freeze or burn.

He sat and forced his breathing to slow.

After a long while, the shaking eased.

Jiang You Sheng watched, impressed. “Master recovered quickly. Most Star-Breaking Realm cultivators take days their first time. Even deciding to enter again takes resolve. Many flee and never come back.”

Wang Jie let out a short, humorless laugh. “Tower Lord, stop praising me.”

Jiang You Sheng didn’t push. He gave Wang Jie time.

Wang Jie stared through the window at the savage lightning beyond the walls.

This wasn’t simply a test of endurance. It was the instinct of living things bowing before nature’s wrath.

What ordinary person wasn’t afraid of thunder?

And yet, after feeling it firsthand, he understood something else, too.

It wasn’t hopeless.

At the very top, the lightning density was still within his limits. The problem was climbing—clinging to the Thunder Well’s edge like an insect on glass.

Roaming-Star Realm cultivators could walk the universe itself. They could slip through thunder as though it were mist.

Would he ever reach that level?

He didn’t know.

But he could climb.

Once he steadied himself, Wang Jie looked at Jiang You Sheng. “Tower Lord. I’m ready.”

Jiang You Sheng nodded and led him back.

This time, he made Wang Jie climb on his own.

The rim of the Thunder Well had been hammered by lightning for so long that it had fused into a charred void—dark, glassy, almost translucent from a distance. It looked like solidified nothingness, and it provided just enough grip for those who couldn’t freely roam space.

Wang Jie looked down.

Below him, endless lightning writhed like serpents, sliding over one another in a living sea. The sight alone made his stomach knot.

He moved along the rim carefully. When lightning surged toward him, he dodged and pressed himself into the safest angles, watching and learning.

Days passed.

His fear didn’t vanish, but it dulled into something sharper—focus. His hands found holds without thought. His feet shifted on instinct.

He could climb.

With Wang Jie stabilized, Jiang You Sheng finally went to gather thunder-pattern gold.

“Master,” he asked one last time, “are you truly alright alone?”

Wang Jie exhaled. “I can’t have Tower Lord standing beside me forever.”

Jiang You Sheng smiled. “True. Still—if Master needs me, I’ll be there.”