Chapter 78#
Gears of Fate 20#
Bai Song didn’t understand what Yu Feichen meant, but he straightforwardly drew a conclusion: “Yu-ge, you got lied to?”
Yu Feichen gave him a quiet look: “No.”
Only the two of them remained in the corridor. Bai Song pressed: “Explain more.”
Yu Feichen didn’t elaborate. Bai Song mulled the phrase himself: “But if you don’t listen to people’s lies, how do you expose them?”
Yu Feichen flatly: “Why expose them?”
“?” Bai Song was confused. “How else do you learn the truth?”
“Only through your own eyes can you verify truth,” Yu Feichen said. Since having Bai Song, he’d noticed his own speech frequency had increased.
“Yu-ge,” Bai Song said. “Then you lack trust in others way too much.”
“Otherwise?”
They continued forward. Bai Song stopped pressing on his comment and found a more fundamental topic: “But why did you suddenly remember to say this?”
Why did he suddenly remember to say this? Yu Feichen didn’t know either.
He only knew that throughout his life, before truth was revealed, he wouldn’t let a second person know what he wanted to clarify. Because once they knew, they’d have room to argue and hide. He disliked giving people that space.
This was like interrogating a criminal—the interrogator wouldn’t reveal what evidence they possessed until the final moment. They’d merely pretend nothing had happened.
Classroom 21 was at the far end of the corridor’s uppermost level. After the mechanical doors opened, inside was a roaring giant workshop. Beyond densely crisscrossed pipes and conveyor belts, at least ten mysterious-purpose giant machines stood.
“Dear students, lesson five—Practical work class officially begins~
Lesson objective: Complete machinery maintenance tasks in groups. Each group must maintain one machine~
Tip 1: Each machine has at least three problems affecting its operation~
Tip 2: Please register your grouping results and machine numbers on papyrus~
Class time ends: when the hour hand is next vertical to the ground~
Teaching complete. Please complete your learning tasks seriously~”
Zheng Yuan surveyed the entire workshop, then looked at the people in their group, murmuring: “Only five days and already… major projects?”
The mechanical dummy stood near them holding a tray. Yu Feichen remained expressionless throughout. Vincent picked up a quill and said: “Let’s divide into groups. The rules don’t restrict group size.”
The educational process was universal, unchanging with their numbers—this time ten people were alive, but next time another batch of students might have only two or three reaching the fifth lesson. So group size was unrestricted, seeming more flexible.
Chen Tong suggested they work together.
This suggestion gained unanimous approval. After all their names were written on papyrus, Chen Tong even said: “Even idiots know there’s strength in numbers.”
He wasn’t wrong, but often fragment world people didn’t work in harmony. This time was almost accidental.
After grouping, they began selecting which machine to maintain. Vincent led people between machines observing, discussing which looked manageable. Yu Feichen said nothing of value throughout, drifting with the group, realizing his lazy technique could rival Ludwig’s.
Not that he had no opinions, but this group had someone more eager to complete the dungeon than him.
The time god’s dungeon entanglement caused him to miss resurrection day—not a major issue. But Vincent’s anxiety perhaps had another source.
Given that, he wasn’t inclined to move either.
After drifting awhile, the others selected machine five, beginning careful study of each module’s function. They had proper attitudes. Vincent in the group knew something about everything. Xue Xin and Zheng Yuan were skilled with machinery. Lingwei and Lillia understood spells. Bai Song and Chen Tong were tools. Maintenance wasn’t difficult.
Yu Feichen went alone to the highest point of the parts pile to draw diagrams. First he sketched some mechanical diagrams Xue Xin might use. Then fortress sketches based on days of memory.
After finishing, Yu Feichen set the papyrus aside. Before going down to help, he lay back with right elbow propping his head, staring at the metal ceiling like a high school student skipping class to daydream.
He couldn’t say what he was thinking. Perhaps many things, perhaps nothing was on his mind.
One sleepless night, yet completely alert, no sign of fatigue. As he spent more time in the fortress, sleep seemed unnecessary.
One lesson passed in busyness. Maintenance complete, everything needed was done.
“Live or die by fate, grades in heaven’s hands—let’s die together,” Chen Tong exited the classroom, sighing.
Coming to the corridor entrance, they passed the spell lesson classroom. The classroom door was open, but no one had exited. Yu Feichen approached to find Anphiel and Jililigulung each holding a stack of papyrus, waiting inside the door.
“You came,” seeing Yu Feichen, Anphiel gestured inside: “We can’t carry it.”
Yu Feichen’s first thought was how much paper they’d written to be immovable. Reconsidering, writing that many spells seemed unrealistic. Could these two have created some machinery?
Then his gaze fell on three spell readers arranged in the classroom’s center.
“We modified the spell readers. The first can now reverse-read original spells on machinery. The second can change some functions—writing with it can directly modify original spells, like reversing or nullifying them. The third is a standard spell reader,” Anphiel explained while leaving with him.
Jililigulung accompanied with: “&###@, we*////, Anphiel%…@!”
Xue Xin stared at the spell readers shocked: “There’s such a method???”
Chen Tong: “Is this cheating? Can I report it?”
Anphiel, not slacking off, could accomplish this much—even Yu Feichen felt slightly surprised. Everyone else couldn’t maintain composure, seemingly only Vincent showed no shock.
They carried the spell readers onto the train. Reaching the dormitory, Vincent glanced at Yu Feichen: “Will you find the main control? Do you need me?”
Yu Feichen: “Don’t need you.”
Vincent disagreed: “One person can’t guarantee accuracy.”
Yu Feichen spoke evenly: “He’ll go with me.”
“He” naturally referred to the still motion-sick Anphiel. Yu Feichen never asked Anphiel’s opinion, but spoke as if they’d already agreed, or was simply ordering him.
Anphiel blinked confusedly, clearly not expecting Yu Feichen to say this. But he immediately nodded assent.
Vincent turned away silently. Yu Feichen coldly watched his movements. The person’s footsteps seemed calm, but tightly knitted brows betrayed hidden worry and frustrated agitation.
The train launched again. High-speed roller coaster was torture. Slow-speed was another kind. When the train stopped in the furnace forest, Anphiel had his eyes closed against the engine room wall, barely gasping weakly. He couldn’t stabilize himself alone. Throughout, Yu Feichen held him.
The train steadied. Yu Feichen fed Anphiel some energy liquid. Green eyes opened confusedly, taking long to recover their original gentleness and quiet.
He helped Anphiel off the train.
“Going up the furnace, you can see the red-black crystal transport trajectory. Follow the path with most crystals, and you’ll find a location,” he said.
Anphiel nodded: “I know. You find the white?”
Yu Feichen: “Mm.”
Anphiel followed the energy crystal transport route. Yu Feichen went toward the fourth workshop, advancing along the white magical liquid drops’ flow. They departed from different points, traveling different paths. If they ultimately converged, it proved they’d found the right destination.
If not, they’d find other ways.
This was why Vincent said “one person can’t be accurate.”
Yu Feichen noticed Anphiel watching him. Or rather, measuring him.
Him: “What are you looking at?”
In the pitch-black furnace forest, Anphiel’s long hair and gentle eyelashes seemed the only bright color. The person’s eyes held quiet laughter as he said: “You seem somewhat changed.”
Yu Feichen: “Changed how?”
Anphiel walked along the conveyor belt forward, leaving while speaking softly: “I thought you wouldn’t call me to join. It seems you finally learned to trust your teammates.”
Long after he spoke, Yu Feichen replied: “If that’s how you want to interpret it, fine.”
Anphiel turned back to look, seemingly waiting for further response. But the fortress left them no time for more conversation. The train’s whistle gave long wail—time to leave.
Yu Feichen returned to the train’s engine room, letting it carry him to the next workshop.
Anphiel hadn’t said one thing wrong. If it were before, he wouldn’t have brought him to find the main control. He truly didn’t trust Murphy much, but trusted Anphiel wasn’t the issue. He disliked letting Anphiel endure extra motion sickness or encounter danger, so he’d choose to venture alone in the fortress, striving to find the control point.
Now was different. How much danger Anphiel encountered seemed unrelated to him anymore. He was simply experiencing the dungeon with a team they mutually trusted. Life and death weren’t factors.
Actually, just for clearing the dungeon, such a feeling was fine too.
The engine room wall was cold. Yu Feichen leaned back against it, gazing out the window. But Anphiel’s silhouette had gradually receded, completely disappearing from his vision.