Volume One: All Things Awaken, Four Seasons Turn to Spring Chapter Twenty-Nine: Shattering Illusions, Strange Phenomena Return

All of the Lin family’s vehicles were equipped with bulletproof features, so a few metal batons were utterly incapable of shattering the windows. What puzzled Mo Wen was that among the five burly men, not a single one had reached the Divine Core stage! They were taking him far too lightly. Holding back the furious Lin Xi, Mo Wen slowly opened the car door and stepped out, ignoring the men’s jeers.

“Sirs, may I ask which crew you’re with?”

Mo Wen’s obsequious manner took them by surprise. The leader, a man with a face like carved stone, sneered, “Don’t worry about where we’re from. Since you seem to know the score, we’ll just break your legs to teach you a lesson, so you won’t offend people you shouldn’t.”

Mo Wen touched his nose and scanned the surroundings again. There really were no hidden accomplices. He secretly snickered—had these five louts been sent here as a joke? They were so easy to deal with, but he needed to find out who was behind them.

Feigning fear, Mo Wen forced a fawning smile. “If you want to break my legs, I have no complaint. But I travel far and wide and don’t know which important figure I’ve offended. Please enlighten me. Here’s a token of my respect—please accept it.”

He presented a wad of bills, perhaps seven or eight thousand, respectfully. The leader nodded, satisfied. Since he’d started out, he’d rarely met anyone as sensible as this Mo Wen. Was his reputation really so intimidating that a mere glare could make this young man tremble?

“Alright, I’ll tell you the truth—if you see anyone from the Zhuo family in the future, stay away. The waters in Beidu run deep, and they’re not for the likes of you.”

The Zhuo family? Mo Wen pondered. If it were Zhuo Yue, he’d have sent some real experts if he meant harm—this made no sense.

The five thugs grinned cruelly and signaled to each other with their eyes, ready to attack. Mo Wen narrowed his eyes, a wicked smile playing on his lips. With a casual wave of his hand—he didn’t even use any martial arts—the five men collapsed to the ground at once.

Retrieving his money from the leader’s limp hand, Mo Wen said coolly, “If you want to make it in this world, use your brains. Don’t let yourselves be used as tools and still take pride in it. I don’t want to kill today. Get lost!”

Terrified, the five scrambled away, knowing full well this was someone they could never hope to cross.

Back in the car, Lin Xi was in no hurry to leave. “The Zhuo family?” she mused. “They have over a dozen at the Breaking Illusion stage and dozens more at Divine Core. At the very least, they’d have sent someone at Divine Core. This is a joke.”

Mo Wen smiled, affectionately tweaking her nose as if praising a child. “My Lin-jie is so clever!”

He paused, then continued, “Someone wants to set me against the Zhuo family. Who do you think it is?”

Lin Xi shook her head. Mo Wen’s eyes glinted. “In that case, I’ll play along. Call your father and tell him we were ambushed by several Zhuo family Divine Core experts in the Beidu suburbs, but I killed them all.”

Lin Xi, quick-witted as ever, immediately grasped his intent. After she made the call, Lin Tianci erupted with rage on the other end. He seized Zhuo Yue on the spot and, had it not been for Zhao Tiansheng’s intervention, might have killed him then and there.

Mo Wen could barely stifle his laughter at the furious shouts coming through the phone. The two set out again, destination: the Magic City.

The journey took over ten hours. Lin Xi drove the whole way, while Mo Wen rested with his eyes closed. By the time they returned to the Magic City, it was nearly ten at night.

“Hungry?” Mo Wen asked.

Neither had eaten anything at the banquet earlier; both were famished.

“Shall we grab something to eat before heading home?” Lin Xi was visibly exhausted from the long drive.

“How about dog meat hotpot? With some baijiu—it’s the perfect pairing!”

Before Lin Xi could reply, Sword Dog, who had been dozing in the back seat, leapt up as if its tail had been stomped. “What did you just say? Eat what?”

Mo Wen and Lin Xi exchanged a smile. In the end, the two humans and one dog enjoyed a hotpot together—lamb, not dog.

The night passed uneventfully. The next morning, Mo Wen awoke feeling unaccountably restless, unable to sit still, though he could not say why.

On impulse, he tried calling Aunt Zhao. Her phone was off.

That was odd. Aunt Zhao almost never turned off her phone. Was something wrong?

Without hesitation, Mo Wen drove to her house. Aunt Zhao was over sixty and retired, living comfortably with her son.

He knocked. After a long moment, a young woman he didn’t recognize answered the door. For an instant, he thought he had the wrong place, but double-checked—it was correct.

“Is Aunt Zhao home?” Mo Wen felt a surge of foreboding.

“You must be Mo Wen. Aunt Zhao mentioned you might come. Wait here—she left something for you.”

The girl, who seemed to know Mo Wen, went inside and returned with a small, blue silk sachet, embroidered with magpies and tightly sealed.

Mo Wen accepted it in silence. “Where is Aunt Zhao?”

The girl sighed, hesitated, and finally spoke.

It turned out that Aunt Zhao had vanished without a trace the night before last. As if anticipating her own disappearance, she had entrusted the sachet to her niece, Li Xinran, the previous afternoon, telling her to give it to Mo Wen.

Mo Wen’s pupils contracted sharply. A stabbing pain shot through his chest, so fierce that he nearly collapsed, sweat beading on his brow as he gasped for breath.

The pain vanished as swiftly as it came, as if it had never happened.

Aunt Zhao had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. After asking for more details, Mo Wen left quietly.

Finding a secluded spot, he hurriedly opened the sachet. Inside was a small slip of paper, the handwriting delicate and unmistakably Aunt Zhao’s.

“Xiao Mo, I knew this day would come sooner or later. They’re here! Live well, live an ordinary life—never break through the illusion! Never break through the illusion! Never break through the illusion!”

Mo Wen was shaken to his core. Aunt Zhao wasn’t even at the Spirit Core stage—how could she know such things? In just two short lines, she urged him three times not to break through the illusion.

There was something deeply strange at work.

Aunt Zhao had cared for him since he was a child; Mo Wen was certain she meant him no harm. He stood for a long while, mind in a fog, then returned to Ziyuan like a walking ghost. It was already noon by the time he arrived. Lin Xi, worried he might be hungry, had rushed home from the police headquarters to cook.

Seeing Mo Wen so lost in thought, Lin Xi grew anxious, afraid he was troubled by the situation in Beidu. To comfort him, after a hasty lunch, she dragged him into the bedroom for a thorough “lesson.”

Passion blazed in broad daylight, and in the face of such temptation, all worries seemed to vanish like smoke on the wind.

Afterward, Mo Wen lay half-naked on the bed, holding Lin Xi in his arms.

“Did Uncle Lin ever explain what ‘breaking through the illusion’ means?” he asked suddenly, catching Lin Xi off guard.

She thought for a moment, then replied uncertainly, “My father once said it means piercing through confusion to see the truth. Below that stage, everything is illusion. Only after breaking through can one see the real world.”

She added, “I never quite understood what this ‘illusion’ refers to, but my father said it’s something you have to comprehend on your own—no one else can explain it.”

Mo Wen sighed and said no more. Lin Xi, seeing how troubled he was, skipped work that afternoon. The two simply lay together, holding each other close.

Some time later, Lin Xi’s long legs wrapped around him once more. “Little brother, I’m hungry again.”

Her voice was like a signal flare. Mo Wen rolled over and gathered her in his arms, ready for another round.