Chapter Eight: Transformation

All the ancient demons had fallen into a profound state of dormancy, as if they were nothing more than statues, utterly bereft of any sign of life, submerged and forgotten in the endless current of time. Yet this was merely an illusion.

As their creator, Fang Zhuowei could sense, with utmost clarity, the continuous thunderous rumble emanating from within these slumbering ancient demons—a sound not unlike a heartbeat, rolling like distant thunder, brimming with inexhaustible vitality.

"The thirty-four thousand two hundredth year of the Ancient Dark Era. After enduring two millennia of demonic wars, the ancient demon race has at last succumbed to slumber, forever buried beneath the Dark Continent. The end of the Ancient Dark Era is nigh, yet this does not mean the curtain has fallen. Someday in the future, the ancient demons lying dormant beneath the nether earth will awaken once more, and the eternal darkness will descend upon all ages again..."

After swallowing a boiled egg with a bit of pickled vegetables, Fang Zhuowei set down the pen in his hand.

The state of the ancient demons was peculiar; they had encountered a strange bottleneck in their evolution. Yet, as the first beings Fang Zhuowei had ever created, a bottleneck for them was nothing more than a slight slowdown in their metamorphosis. In time, they would inevitably break through this barrier and awaken in the endless years to come.

But this would require a long, long time.

It could be a thousand years, or ten thousand, or even hundreds of thousands—perhaps longer still.

There was no denying, however, that the longer their power accumulated, the more terrifying they would be upon their awakening.

"Life is wondrous precisely because it is filled with boundless unknowns. I am truly curious how far these ancient demons might go," Fang Zhuowei mused, massaging his brow and withdrawing his gaze.

"Staying shut inside every day won't do. While the weather is pleasant, I should go out for a walk."

He closed his notebook and set it aside, then stood up, stretched, and straightened his back.

As a patient—moreover, as a cancer patient—prolonged sitting did his condition no good. Even for the healthy, regular exercise and fresh air were essential.

Perhaps it was his imagination, but ever since the evolving world of the aquarium began to take shape, Fang Zhuowei felt his body growing lighter, his spirit fuller and more energetic.

The persistent aches that used to trouble him every few days had now not appeared for quite some time, and even when they did, the pain was well within his tolerance.

"The prosperity and development of the species provide my own body with feedback—some form of dark matter energy. This energy seems to have a restorative effect on my cancer," he pondered. "However, the effect is not complete; it merely alleviates the symptoms. The most effective way to truly cure the cancer would be to find a solution within the civilizations I have created."

Fang Zhuowei weighed these thoughts carefully. He could feel his body was significantly lighter than before, yet this sensation was not entirely genuine—like recovering from a cold while still lingering with the symptoms.

Shaking off his musings, he stepped outside.

The sunlight was splendid, brilliant and warm, dispelling the last traces of chill from the world.

Looking out, he saw distant mountains rising and falling like the surging sea—majestic and grand, some peaks standing out in solitary splendor, while others stretched away, verdant and precipitous, shrouded in clouds and mist.

Green grass, reeds, and wildflowers in red, white, and purple, all basked under the blazing sun, filling the air with a sweet, intoxicating fragrance.

In such a moment, a sentence suddenly floated into Fang Zhuowei’s mind: One day, I will cast aside all my weariness and dreams, taking only my camera and computer, and leave the bustling world behind for the open expanse.

He did not know exactly what that "open expanse" might be, but he felt this scene must surely resemble it.

Beautiful things always bring joy, and so it was for Fang Zhuowei now; surveying the endless rivers and mountains, he could not help but let a faint smile play upon his lips.

Anping Town was set in a remote, mountainous region, encircled by hills on all sides, with a river cutting through it from east to west.

The scenery of the river and mountains complemented each other perfectly, forming a picturesque and poetic landscape.

From a purely scenic perspective, it was faultless. But in terms of employment, the prospects were bleak.

Though Anping Town covered nearly a thousand square kilometers and was not small, there were scarcely any jobs suitable for young people, and even when there were, the wages were shockingly low.

There was no helping it; the local cost of living determined the wage level, and the town’s consumption level was set.

Over the years, most of the young people had left for opportunities elsewhere. Someone like Fang Zhuowei, who had returned, was as rare as a maiden riding in her bridal sedan—a true anomaly.

Fortunately, his family home stood in a secluded spot, so Fang Zhuowei had no need to worry about the scrutiny of others. Not that he would have cared in any case, but peace and quiet were always preferable.

His parents’ old house was perched halfway up a mountainside, surrounded by sparse habitation. The closest neighbor was his third aunt’s family; beyond them, there were only a few scattered households, all elderly men and women, separated by several ridges.

Not far from his home lay a stretch of pristine natural scenery, a sizable area rumored to be a nature reserve. Because of this, a few small inns and eateries operated nearby, catering to the occasional traveler—Fang Zhuowei often bought his breakfast there.

But due to Anping Town’s remote location, visitors were few and far between.

Changing into a pair of light sneakers and grabbing a thin jacket just in case, Fang Zhuowei set off towards the scenic area.

He had been back for some time now, yet he had never actually visited. He had read online that locals could enter for free, though he wasn’t sure if it was true.

Fang Zhuowei was not one to take advantage of others, but if there was a chance for a free visit, why not seize it?

From a distance, he spotted a brand-new directional sign by the roadside. Following the signs, he walked for about forty minutes before the high entrance archway of the scenic area came into view.

Above the gate hung a massive iron plaque, the golden characters of "Anping Landscape and Culture Scenic Area" painted in bold, flowing strokes of red.

In the lower left corner of the iron plaque was a plastic board, about half a person tall, listing the price—thirty yuan per person for admission, not expensive, though it didn’t cover any extras.

At the bottom, in small black letters, was a special note that was not immediately obvious. Fang Zhuowei took a closer look, and just as online reviews had claimed, locals could enter free of charge with their ID cards.