Chapter 54: Heavenly Dao’s Correction and the Unknown Malice

Lu Yan’s heart trembled violently!

He had altered the urban and apocalyptic versions before, causing changes in the Heavenly Dao’s original order, which had resulted in version alteration values.

But those alteration values had always appeared as post-update settlements—they included a wide range of downstream effects and indirect influences, all assessed during version transitions.

Yet now, for the first time, the version alteration value had manifested in real time—and it was an entire 1%!

Lu Yan had once slaughtered over a hundred thousand zombies in the apocalyptic version, and that had barely earned him 0.2%. As the only cultivator in the urban version, he’d only caused 3%.

And now? A single photograph had instantly caused a 1% shift in the Xianxia version.

That could only mean one thing: the Heavenly Dao’s order in the Xianxia world had already begun to tilt.

According to Lu Yan’s previous deductions, the stronger a version’s power system, the more stable its Heavenly Dao would be—so much so that ordinary means could not touch its foundations.

And the Xianxia version, even without mentioning the legendary immortals who had ascended, still had powerful figures in both righteous and demonic sects whose ancestors had reached the Nascent Soul Realm.

Such individuals could destroy worlds. And they likely weren’t even the ceiling of this world.

A world of such power would naturally have a Heavenly Dao that was nearly immovable. So for something as minor as a photo to shake it—it was terrifying beyond reason.

“I showed that photo to Xie Yun earlier, and nothing happened. Just like when I gave scavengers supplies from the apocalyptic version—no impact at all.

It proves that simple cross-version resource exchange doesn’t trigger anything serious.

But when Ji Xingyao held that photo—and saw her ‘other self’ from the urban version—that was when some unfathomable force was triggered.”

Lu Yan glanced at Ji Xingyao’s now-empty hand. The overwhelming aura she’d released was gradually subsiding, and Lu Yan fell deep into thought.

“That erased photo… it seems to be the result of a self-correction mechanism from the Xianxia version.

The photo itself wasn’t special, but the mechanism was triggered by a very specific condition.

The key lies in Ji Xingyao becoming aware of a version beyond the Xianxia one.”

A sharp light flashed through Lu Yan’s eyes.

Suddenly, he realized this entire process was just like a video game.

Each version of the world was like a different game module, and the beings within them—NPCs—ran on internal logic and scripts.

But the moment one of those NPCs was influenced by an external force and started to become aware of their true nature, the system would immediately correct itself and restore everything to baseline.

At that moment, clarity burst through Lu Yan’s mind, and he began to understand even more about version alteration values.

“The Xianxia Heavenly Dao can control version-wide changes—meaning it governs the macro trend.

But Ji Xingyao’s situation triggered a direct interference at the individual level, with the Heavenly Dao forcibly erasing the photo to maintain order.

This interference wasn’t part of the original design—it was a deviation.

And that deviation… is precisely what caused this 1% version alteration value!”

Lu Yan’s eyes narrowed.

He realized something chilling—the Heavenly Dao of the Xianxia world had willingly accepted a 1% alteration just to erase that photo.

That could only mean one thing: if the photo had remained, the version impact it would have caused would far exceed 1%.

This made Lu Yan even more curious.

What if more beings came to know of the other versions?

Could that be the key to toppling the current world order and pushing the version alteration straight to 100%?

The moment that dangerous idea surfaced, Lu Yan was suddenly struck by an inexplicable sense of crisis.

His soul began to tremble.

Every cell in his body screamed in terror, and his very genes seemed to shriek in alarm.

It felt like the entire world—all realms, all heavens—had turned toward him, baring their naked hostility.

The Xuanhuang Merit Fire that cloaked him was instantly reduced to a weak flicker, barely sustaining itself.

Lu Yan hastily extinguished the thought from his mind.

The moment the idea vanished, so too did the malicious pressure.

The world returned to silence, as if nothing had ever happened.

Lu Yan gasped for breath, his clothes soaked in sweat.

His body and spirit alike were steeped in an indescribable weakness.

But strangely, after that pressure faded, his nearly extinguished Xuanhuang Merit Fire began to burn brighter again.

A faint trace of radiant gold shimmered atop the yellow flame—hinting at a new transformation.

Lu Yan quickly suppressed all stray thoughts. He didn’t dare reflect on what had just happened.

It felt like some cross-world antivirus protocol had briefly scanned him—ready to erase him if he crossed the line again.

Just as he struggled to calm his mind, a delicate hand holding a jade vial appeared before him.

“I don’t know what just happened, but I accidentally released some sword intent.

This vial contains High-Grade Tier-Two Soul Nourishing Pills. They can soothe the damage to your soul caused by the sword intent. Consider this compensation.”

Lu Yan looked up in surprise at Ji Xingyao.

Clearly, she assumed his wretched state was the result of resisting her sword intent.

Naturally, Lu Yan wouldn’t explain the real cause to her.

He accepted the pill bottle.

“Thank you, Senior Sister Ji.”

Inside were five pills.

After swallowing one, Lu Yan felt a gentle medicinal force seep into his soul, soothing its weakness.

This medicine resembled Moonlight Qi, but focused more on nourishment rather than strengthening.

However, it left behind some impurities, and was clearly not as pure as Moonlight Qi.

Still, one pill could save Lu Yan half a month of normal Moonlight Qi cultivation.

His eyes sparkled.

High-Grade Tier-Two pills were worth thousands of spirit stones—those that nourished the soul were even more expensive.

And yet, even such valuable pills couldn’t compare to the Moonlight Qi he could absorb in the apocalyptic version.

This made Lu Yan realize the value of that version was even greater than he had thought.

As the weakness in his body faded, Lu Yan looked again toward Ji Xingyao.

After giving him the pills, she stood still, staring at her own hand, seemingly deep in thought.

Lu Yan’s gaze flickered. He tentatively asked:

“Senior Sister Ji, that item just now…”

“You mean the Spirit Marrow Ore?”

Ji Xingyao’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle, almost like that of an old friend.

“That piece of ore is quite good. With the right feng shui techniques, it could even form a pseudo-Tier-Two spiritual vein.

It’s valuable, so keep it safe lest others covet it.

As for the feng shui methods, they’re not exactly secret. I’ll send you a copy in a few days.”

But Lu Yan noticed something much more important from her reply.

She instinctively assumed “that item” referred to the ore—completely overlooking the far more significant photograph.

This was proof that all of Ji Xingyao’s memories of the photo had been erased, corrected along with the version by the Xianxia Heavenly Dao.

(End of Chapter)