And between heaven and earth were row upon row of neat bookshelves, extending beyond the limits of vision. Each row was as high as a three-story building, laden with countless volumes of scrolls and books.
Feng Miaojun turned around and found bookshelves in every direction—front, back, left, and right—as if she were immersed in a sea of books. If viewed from above, all the bookshelves would appear arranged in a radial pattern, with her standing precisely at the center.
In other words, this place resembled the origin point of all knowledge.
Vast as a sea of smoke—truly no exaggeration. Recalling Mo Tijun’s words that the collection here exceeded ten million volumes, she drew a deep breath.
However, how could she find the information she sought in this boundless ocean of books?
Surely everyone who came here to research didn’t have to manually search through the shelves? That would be utterly inhumane.
Just as she was puzzling over this, a voice suddenly spoke:
“What are you looking for?”
A person? She looked toward the sound but saw no living being, only a palm-sized paperweight on the large red wooden desk behind her.
The paperweight was shaped like the magical beast “Expansion,” though she remembered its eyes being closed when she had glimpsed it earlier. Now they were open, staring coldly at her.
Feng Miaojun couldn’t help but ask curiously: “Do you remember the location of every book here?”
“Yes.” Its voice was stiff and mechanical, unlike that of a living being.
“Can you help me find what I need?” Having gained more experience since first arriving in this strange world, she wondered if this small paperweight might be the spirit of the magical beast, considering the Smoke Sea Tower was hidden in its stomach. She only wondered why it seemed so mechanical.
“I can.”
Feng Miaojun was delighted: “Then please help me find…” The name “Ao Fish” was on the tip of her tongue when she suddenly had a thought and changed her question. “Wait, will others know of my actions and words here?” Although this place appeared to be an enclosed space, there were too many inexplicable things in this world, so caution seemed wise.
To her dismay, the magical beast’s answer immediately chilled her heart: “Yes. Every three days, the actions of visitors are reported to the Prince of Jin. This includes how long you stayed, which books you read, and which page numbers.”
“…” So the Prince would know what materials she had sought?
This was certainly not good news. At the very least, she couldn’t directly search for information about the Ao Fish, or the Prince and his advisors would easily deduce her purpose. With the Prince handling myriad affairs of the state, these surveillance reports would likely be screened by others first. As Imperial Advisor, did Mo Tijun also have access to this information?
Feng Miaojun stood in place, taking several deep breaths to calm her disappointment.
According to her original plan, she would leave Jin after finding the information she needed, especially since she still had one condition left to ask of Mo Tijun, which could secure her departure.
But now it seemed this would not be so easy.
Though she hadn’t been in Jin Capital long, she had received one piece of bad news after another—first remembering that this body lacked cultivation talent, and now learning that everything occurring here wouldn’t escape the notice of interested parties.
Her luck had been consistently poor lately.
She sat at the desk, closing her eyes in contemplation for quite some time before regrouping: “Let’s start with the origin of the Imperial Advisor position, then?”
Having gone through such trouble to enter, it wouldn’t make sense to leave this treasure mountain empty-handed. As a complete novice, the more thoroughly she understood this world, the more adeptly she could navigate her future days.
Her nature was resilient; she never easily admitted defeat. Since her two most desired goals seemed unattainable, she might as well set them aside temporarily and begin by broadly surveying the available knowledge.
Perhaps there would come a day when hope would unexpectedly emerge.
Cloud Ao was an Imperial Advisor, Mo Tijun was an Imperial Advisor—she was intensely curious about this title and wondered exactly how much power they wielded.
“Imperial Advisor?” The magical beast responded without hesitation. “Section one hundred twelve, row three hundred thirty-seven, third level. Remember, books here cannot be taken outside. After reading, return them to their original positions.”
The shelf was very far away. After trudging there with great effort and climbing up the wooden ladder to the third level, she was bewildered: “Which one?” This level was further divided into three sections, each appearing to contain more than fifty books. How should she choose?
“All of these.” The magical beast’s eerie voice sounded from behind her.
“…” Very well.
Resigned, she picked up the thinnest volume and began reading.
The beginning matched what Mo Tijun had previously explained. Before the recorded era, this continent was rich in spiritual energy, giving rise to countless creatures. Immensely powerful demons and alien races roamed the human realm with abilities to alter heaven and earth, while powerful cultivators emerged among humans to oppose them.
But the endless conflicts among these three groups knew no bounds until heaven and earth could no longer tolerate them. After a cataclysm that rents the sky and splits the earth, most of the powerful beings perished, with barely one in ten surviving.
The frightening part was that following this catastrophe, a happy new life did not begin.
The alien races disappeared, but powerful celestial demons emerged, once again creating a three-way standoff with humans and demon tribes, continuing the endless struggle.
As the celestial demons grew increasingly powerful, threatening the order of the entire world, they finally alarmed the divine beings.
No one knows the details of that battle.
Afterward, the celestial demons were sealed away, and the divine beings also vanished without a trace.
And what of humans and demons? They fared no better.
The world, not yet recovered from the previous devastation, was torn asunder again. Finally unable to withstand such dramatic changes, spiritual energy sharply declined, like a deflated ball. Even if the powerful beings who depended on spiritual energy could barely survive, their descendants’ abilities weakened with each generation.
In the past, when humans and demon tribes reached the pinnacle of cultivation, there were tales of “ascension.” Now, such things were unimaginable.
It wasn’t until several hundred years ago that the tremors throughout heaven and earth finally subsided, and spiritual energy stopped rapidly diminishing—but by then, it had become very scarce. Spells that once could be cast with ease now required herculean effort.
The magical creatures had long since disappeared, leaving only demon tribes and humans to compete for the scarce spiritual energy. In terms of individual power, humans who couldn’t utilize spiritual energy were no match for demons. Thus, for a considerable time, demon creatures ran rampant, causing havoc everywhere—until humans inadvertently discovered a brand new method to deal with them: uniting as Kingdoms and using the power of an entire country to resist.
Mo Tijun had only briefly explained the concept of Element Force. In fact, it was formed by the combined essence, energy, spirit, and faith of all citizens, concentrated in one place to create an extremely powerful force. When the country prospered and the people lived in abundance, Element Force flourished and approached its zenith; conversely, when natural disasters were rampant and wars continuous, Element Force declined and withered away.
Because these two were so closely linked, over time, Element Force also became a comprehensive benchmark for measuring a country’s prosperity and the flourishing of its various industries.
Military Intelligence Express Line