HDRDTH -Chapter 114 Is This the Price of Divinity?

The mechanical female voice’s countdown echoed through the empty quarry, carrying a chilling electronic timbre.

“Seven… six…”

Old Man An collapsed into the mud. The purplish color on his face had drained completely.

His lips trembled as if he were shivering in a storm.

“Yellow Springs… that’s a geological annihilation device the Japanese buried at dragon vein nodes during their retreat back then!”

“Run, young man!”

“If that thing explodes, Jiangcheng’s entire underground water system will turn into toxic water!”

Wang Dafu had already scrambled back more than ten meters away, his massive body trembling violently from sheer terror.

“Dad!”

“Forget that broken scrap metal, we need to evacuate!”

Yu Xian didn’t move.

He looked at the nine-yuan fiberglass fishing rod in his hand, then at the metal box in the mud flashing its red light.

An unprecedented irritation surged up his spine and shot straight to his skull.

“What kind of third-rate web drama plot is this…”

Yu Xian’s face darkened as he cursed under his breath.

“I just hooked an earthworm. I just wanted to quietly catch a two-tael crucian carp and make soup at night.”

“You give me a water-control beast from Yu the Great, fine.”

“Now you spit out a WWII countdown bomb too?”

“What, you think I’m a garbage recycling station?”

Yu Xian moved.

Slipping in his cheap ten-yuan-per-three-pairs pink plastic sandals, he strode forward and walked straight up to the metal box.

“Three… two…”

The mechanical voice accelerated noticeably.

Yu Xian raised his right foot.

The worn-out sole of the sandal, flattened and faded, precisely aligned with the circular emblem engraved with the sixteen-petal chrysanthemum.

Without hesitation, he stomped down hard.

Crack.

A crisp, sharp fracture echoed.

The supposedly indestructible alloy casing caved in instantly under the force of a ten-yuan slipper.

The arrogant mechanical voice let out a strangled, distorted electronic scream—like a chicken having its throat squeezed.

“One—beeep—zzzt—”

The red light went out instantly.

The countdown froze on the number “one,” then the screen went completely black, like a broken toy.

A moment later—

Hiss.

A faint plume of green smoke drifted out from the seams of the metal box.

“Dad! Toxic gas! Cover your nose!” Wang Dafu screamed from a distance.

Yu Xian didn’t even dodge. He inhaled a large breath of the smoke.

He smacked his lips.

“Poison my ass.”

Yu Xian rubbed his nose.

“Cheap pyrethroid insecticide. Mixed with expired sandalwood incense.”

“These Japanese are really stingy. They even make bombs out of dollar-store junk.”

Old Man An slowly lifted his head from the mud.

He looked at the crushed “Yellow Springs” device, then at Yu Xian standing unharmed, and his whole body trembled violently.

Then his eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.

The shock was too much.

A two-thousand-year-old dragon vein beast, a WWII doomsday device—flattened by a man in an old undershirt and plastic slippers.

It had completely exceeded Old Man An’s seventy-five years of cognitive limits.

“Old man! Old Man An!” Wang Dafu rushed over and pinched his philtrum.

Yu Xian suddenly yawned loudly.

An overwhelming wave of drowsiness hit him without warning.

It felt like pulling three all-nighters straight, then suddenly drinking a large cup of warm milk—his eyelids felt like they were made of lead.

“Strange… this crappy smoke grenade even has a sedative effect?”

Yu Xian shook his head, his vision starting to blur as the surrounding weeds became unreal and distant.

“Da Fu, stop pinching him.”

“He just fainted from fear. He’ll be fine after a sleep.”

Yu Xian forced himself to stay awake, waving his hand weakly.

The quarry around him began to fade, desaturate, and dissolve.

“Pack up. We’re going home.”

“This place is cursed. I won’t even come here if you pay me.”

Wang Dafu hurriedly strapped Old Man An onto the broken electric cart, then shoved the fishing rod and bronze beast head into the pickup truck bed.

The pickup sped away in a cloud of dust.

Jiangcheng, Jinshuiwan No. 1 Villa.

Yu Xian slept the entire ride in the passenger seat, as if his soul had detached from his body.

The moment the car stopped, he didn’t even change shoes. He opened the door and walked straight inside.

“Little Yu, you’re back? Why are you—”

Su Wanyi, wearing an apron, came forward to greet him, but before she could finish, Yu Xian bypassed her and collapsed directly onto the soft leather sofa in the living room.

Instant sleep.

Heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by faint white mist drifting from his collar.

Su Wanyi panicked and quickly grabbed a blanket to cover him.

Li Yao stood in the corner holding a rag, staring at the sleeping Yu Xian without daring to breathe.

“He’s entered deep sleep,” Li Yao thought, trembling internally.

“The surrounding air is resonating with his breathing…”

“He used high-dimensional power to forcibly erase physical rules, and now his body is undergoing dimensional reboot.”

“Is this… the price of divinity?”

Yu Xian had no idea what the outside world was imagining again.

He felt strange.

It wasn’t normal sleep.

It felt like he was falling—continuously descending.

Through layers of overlapping fog.

Reality collapsed around him, dissolving into flowing colors, then into a calm white light.

Finally, his feet landed on solid ground.

Yu Xian opened his eyes.

No blinding sunlight. No city noise.

Only endless white mist stretched in all directions—silent, oppressive.

The air was thick with moisture and an overwhelming, pure scent of earth.

This feeling. This smell.

“A top-tier fishing spot,” his instinct immediately awakened.

His sensitivity to water surged naturally, fully unrestrained.

He inhaled deeply and followed the faint sound of water, pushing through reeds taller than a man.

A vast river appeared before him.

The water flowed calmly, without ripples or direction, shimmering with a faint golden light like flowing silk.

Yu Xian was about to search for a fishing spot when he suddenly froze.

Less than ten meters away on the riverbank was a huge flat stone extending over the water.

On it sat a man.

An old man wearing a tattered straw raincoat and a bamboo hat.

He sat cross-legged, facing away.

In his hand was a rough bamboo fishing rod with no decoration at all.

Yu Xian frowned.

He instinctively lowered his footsteps and approached quietly.

His gaze followed the rod forward.

No fishing line.

No hook.

Only the bare tip of the rod hanging three inches above the water.

“This old guy’s brain is broken…” Yu Xian muttered inwardly.

“Young man.”

At that moment, the old man spoke.

His voice was ancient, yet carried an inexplicable calm that could smooth even the ripples of water itself.

“Restless mind and unstable heart… you won’t even catch a single stray fish like this.”

Yu Xian froze.

Slowly, the old man turned his head.

The moment Yu Xian saw that face—

A thunderous explosion seemed to detonate inside his mind.

As if dozens of deep-sea bombs had gone off at once.

The entire world’s colors shattered completely in that instant.