Chapter Forty-Two: The World Transformed

After a while, Ruoxi's eyes regained their brilliance; slowly, she emerged from her dazed state. Xiaoshan asked, "What’s wrong with you? I called you for ages and you didn’t respond. What happened?" Ruoxi paused at Xiaoshan's words, pursed her lips, seeming reluctant to confide in him. Yet, seeing the clear confusion in Xiaoshan's gaze, so carefully fixed upon her, she spoke with a hint of grievance, "I remembered things from the past." With that, she lowered her head, her mood sinking visibly.

"Someone discovered the anomaly here before, so..." Haoyun's voice grew quieter and quieter, finally falling silent altogether. Haotian and Haopo exchanged glances, as if they found answers in each other’s eyes.

Xiaoshan was still stunned when a strange emotion suddenly swept into his mind—so natural, so seamless, as if watching a film. He accepted it without resistance. It was a forest; suddenly, countless threads of light appeared in the sky, bright and dense, turning the heavens dazzling in an instant. At the tips of these lights, the brilliance was intense—like meteors streaking across the sky, beautiful and mesmerizing.

Yet Xiaoshan felt no stir within him, only a deep sadness rising from his heart. He examined this feeling, realizing its inexplicable nature; he could not fathom why such sorrow echoed inside him.

Suddenly, the sky flashed, darkness yielding completely to daylight, the brilliance nearly blinding Xiaoshan. The once level forest abruptly sank, forming a huge pit; trees within fifty meters around toppled one after another, dragged down by the collapse. Then, those trees beyond the pit began to grow, visibly taller by the moment, soon reaching seven or eight meters high.

From the pit, fragments of stone began to surface; Xiaoshan blinked, struck by an uncanny sense of familiarity. As he blinked, the stones gradually filled the void. Night still lingered overhead, but from the pit a white beam of light shot forth, scattering the floating stones—some hurled into the woods, vanishing from sight.

Not far off, a few people, drawn by curiosity, approached to investigate the commotion. When the white light burst out, the surrounding trees seemed stirred, swaying wildly. Xiaoshan’s eyes brightened; he recognized the place—it was near the forbidden ground, where they had passed before. No wonder it felt so familiar.

One of the men touched the trees, provoking an even fiercer agitation. The branches twisted together, attempting to enclose him. The others, sensing danger, seized their weapons and hacked at the branches. Their blades severed the limbs, which wilted and fell to the earth. Realizing something was wrong, they turned to flee, but more branches sprang forth, unwilling to release their prey. The branches moved faster than the men, entwining and trapping them within.

The forest fell silent.

From then on, more and more people came to this place, yet only a few ever entered the pit; the rest were slain by the man-eating trees. Nourished by their victims, the trees grew ever larger, reaching eight or nine meters tall. For a long time, no one dared set foot here again, until the military arrived. Armed forces crossed the forest, approaching the man-eating trees, paying them no heed.