Chapter 141: Cognitive Tampering

Luocheng, Council Hall.

All eleven councilors representing various powers in Luocheng were gathered inside the grand hall, each wearing a different expression.

A laid-back young man, slouched lazily in his chair, was the first to speak:

“So this is already the fifth meeting… and we’re still discussing Mount Beimang again?”

The moment he spoke, all eyes turned to the head of the chamber—Chairman Li Hao of the Luocheng Council.

Chairman Li had ruled over Luocheng for more than thirty years. The Li family behind him was one of the city’s most influential, with deep connections not only within the upper echelons of the Eastern Federation but even in the state of Myanmar.

Holding a document in hand, Chairman Li’s expression was stern and solemn as he declared:

“Last time, I informed you all of the directive issued by the Eastern Federation’s State Council to suppress all information related to Mount Beimang.

Qingwu Group, Lightspot Media, Lightyear Corporation, the Ministry of Culture, and even the United States Congress—all major factions have unanimously agreed to block any online content related to Mount Beimang.

The area surrounding the mountain has been encircled with electric fences, and signal jammers have been deployed to prevent unauthorized access.”

“This meeting’s purpose is to deliver the State Council’s newest order: a complete lockdown of Mount Beimang, and a total ban on any form of development.”

At those words, the remaining ten councilors instantly erupted in outrage.

Even the lazy young man shed his casual demeanor and stood up, shouting in protest:

“No way! Mount Beimang is part of Luocheng—why should we be forbidden from developing it?!”

Other councilors chimed in furiously:

“Even the State Council has no right to forcibly obstruct Luocheng’s development!”

“This is clearly suppression of Luocheng!”

“A lockdown? Ha! Those bigwigs just want the profits for themselves—they’re not even willing to let us have a taste!”

“I’m beginning to suspect Chairman Li may have reached some backdoor agreement. Otherwise, how else would this kind of absurd decree get passed down?”

You couldn’t really blame them for being so worked up. The strange phenomena at Mount Beimang were simply too extraordinary. Everyone knew something unimaginable was hidden beneath that veil of fog.

Back when the online content was first censored, all the councilors had been in full support. They even risked public backlash by deploying signal-jamming vehicles to drive away tourists.

They did it to prevent outsiders from swooping in and snatching away the spoils of the mountain.

But now?

There were no “outsiders” left to worry about. Instead, the people at the very top had come in and flipped the entire table—how could they possibly accept that?

The heated debate raged for half an hour. Throughout, Chairman Li Hao remained seated at the head of the chamber without uttering a word.

Only once everyone had finally quieted down did he slowly speak:

“I understand all of your concerns. But this total lockdown is a direct order from the highest level—I don’t have the authority to interfere.

But I can assure you of one thing. This lockdown isn’t about someone trying to hoard benefits.

This is a true, full-scale blockade.

If necessary… they’re even prepared to drop a hydrogen bomb to annihilate the entire fog-covered region.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the council hall exploded into chaos once more. The councilors’ eyes filled with disbelief and unease.

“What… exactly is inside Mount Beimang?”

Chairman Li didn’t reply immediately. Instead, he displayed a set of images for everyone to see.

They were photos of corpses—each one frozen in a twisted expression of resentment and agony.

“These bodies were discovered over a year ago at the Fenglan Grand Hotel. Among them was Li Zhaoheng, a police officer.

More than ten people died in total. Apart from Gongyang Xuanming, who was killed by a dagger, all the others died in the same inexplicable way.”

“Forensic analysis confirmed that none of them suffered any physical injuries.

The case was shelved as a cold case… but after the recent anomaly at Mount Beimang, some began reexamining this massacre.

Their deaths bear a disturbing resemblance to the soul-lost tourists who stumbled into Mount Beimang—but to a far more severe degree. It was as if their souls had been permanently erased.”

“Now consider—was this massacre man-made? Or was it a sign of what was about to emerge from Mount Beimang?

Could it be the start of something far worse?

We don’t know. And because of that, those in power have decided to shut everything down until the dust settles.”

Silence fell over the chamber.

This should have been a meeting filled with questions.

Would locking down Mount Beimang really prevent further incidents?

Was there no way to neutralize the dangers hidden within the mountain?

But no one raised these questions.

Not a single person—not even the State Council, nor the Federal upper brass—had truly considered these deeper points.

It was as if some invisible force was quietly guiding their thoughts, gently steering them all toward the same conclusion, the same decision.

As for the deaths of Gongyang Xuanming and the others?

Just a conveniently “reasonable” excuse.

And this wasn’t limited to Luocheng alone.

Similar meetings were being held across all the major powers—within the Eastern Federation, the United States, and even megacorporations like Qingwu Group.

One by one, they reached the same unanimous decision:

Mount Beimang would be completely sealed off.

But outside these halls of power, a different scene was unfolding among the ordinary people.

The black-armored Lishi spirit, hidden in soul form, trailed behind two tourists as they left Mount Beimang.

The moment they exited the scenic area, their conversation about Mount Beimang abruptly shifted—within less than ten seconds, they were discussing something completely unrelated.

This phenomenon wasn’t isolated. It happened again and again—nearly every tourist who left Mount Beimang would, within moments, change the subject and never mention the mountain again.

After tracking over a thousand tourists, not a single exception was found.

It was as if the words “Mount Beimang” had been erased from their minds the moment they left the area.

Back in the spiritual land, Lu Yan finally understood why the websites had purged every video about Mount Beimang without any backlash.

That subconscious tendency to ignore anything about the mountain wasn’t limited to the site moderators—it had spread across the entire urban version.

This was cognitive tampering.

A countermeasure executed by the Urban Heavenly Dao!

Lu Yan’s plan was to stir up a full-scale spiritual revival, shake the foundations of the world, and use it to build his ultimate Dao foundation. Clearly, this defied the principles of the Urban Heavenly Dao.

The Urban Heavenly Dao’s order was one of peace and development. A spiritual revival had already gone beyond the parameters of the urban version—it could not be tolerated.

The Urban Heavenly Dao couldn’t directly interfere with individual beings. So instead, it guided the higher authorities to block all information about Mount Beimang, and rewrote the collective consciousness, erasing any traces of the mountain from public memory.

As long as that lone spiritual vein was sealed off, the revival could never spread. And with that, the urban version would remain within the Dao’s established order.

Seated cross-legged amidst the spiritual land, Lu Yan understood:

There would be no expedition teams arriving from major factions.

The Urban Heavenly Dao would never allow him the chance to spread spiritual energy.

“If that’s how it is… then I’ll fight you head-on!”

(End of Chapter)