Chapter 6: Falling into the Micro

The Dao Ancestor’s Tai Chi Fish had originally lost one of its eyes, leaving a bean-sized hole. However, when Li Weiyi pulled it from his collar again, the hole was gone, and both fish eyes were miraculously present.

One eye emanated a blue light, while the other released a crimson glow. Both shone brilliantly, as if condensed from celestial stars.

*Whoosh!**Whoosh!*

The blue light and crimson glow intertwined like luminous veils. From a distance, one could observe the two-colored light condensing over the vast ice plain, forming a slowly rotating Tai Chi millstone tens of kilometers in diameter.

“It truly is the lost eye of the Dao Ancestor’s Tai Chi Fish. So it is, so it is…” Zhao Meng had suspected as much, but witnessing the miracle unfold before him still caused his heart to tremble. He knelt down, bowing in reverence and piety.

Li Weiyi tilted his head back, observing the blue and crimson lights. His pupils reflected the vibrant hues. “It’s incredible,” he murmured, “these two lights seem to carry profound Daoist texts and Buddhist scriptures. Senior brother, do you see them?”

Zhao Meng saw no scriptures, only the horrifying realization that the ice beneath them was cracking and crumbling. He and Li Weiyi were plummeting rapidly towards the Arctic Ocean, thousands of meters deep. Earlier, the Nine Infants had shattered the ice cap in this area. As it fled, the ice cap collapsed. Instantly, the seawater surged over Li Weiyi and Zhao Meng’s heads, pulling them into the cold, suffocating abyss of the deep sea. In the distance, the damaged and broken research vessel slowly capsized and sank beneath the surface.

*Splash!* Though submerged in the ocean, Li Weiyi was astonished to find the surrounding water filled with blue and crimson light, luminous as if perpetually illuminated by a divine lamp. Even more bizarrely, he heard the vibration of canvas billowing in the wind and the low, woody creak of a swaying mast.

Suddenly, a powerful, surging, invisible field force enveloped Li Weiyi. It frantically pulled everything in the vicinity: Zhao Meng, the bear-like creature, the seawater, the ice cap, and even the distant, sinking research vessel were all swept up by this field force.

*Whoosh!* Li Weiyi’s body, from his arms to his torso, began to shrink rapidly in concentric circles... The sensation was like falling from a great height, or like weightlessness, yet a hundred times more disorienting.

The Dao Ancestor’s Tai Chi Fish, which he wore around his neck, slowly floated up to eye level, mysterious and unfathomable. Immersed in the icy water, Li Weiyi entered a serene yet profoundly strange state. His vision became far keener than usual. He clearly saw that the newly acquired, light red eye of the Dao Ancestor’s Tai Chi Fish now bore patterns resembling mountains and rivers, appearing like a small planet before him. He had only seen such a sight once before, in high school, when observing the moon through a telescope.

What was even more astonishing was this: A bronze vessel, no larger than a grain of rice, emerged from the pale red planet, hoisting its sails and setting forth enveloped in an ethereal glow and ghostly mist.

*Whoosh!* Li Weiyi’s body abruptly shrank again, bringing with it a sensation of weightlessness and dizziness. When his vision returned, the bronze vessel, previously the size of a grain of rice, was now palm-sized and directly in front of him.

*Whoosh!* Weightlessness and dizziness returned. The bronze vessel had now become the size of a fishing boat, and the eerie sights on its deck—the mast and canvas, the skeletal remains of a phoenix and a python, the forest of tombstone-like steles—were etched into Li Weiyi’s mind like intricately carved artworks.

Where did the bronze vessel come from? Why was it continuously growing larger? No... It wasn’t the bronze vessel that was growing; it was he who was continuously shrinking, spiraling smaller and smaller.

Li Weiyi no longer knew how to describe his feelings, unable to distinguish between reality and illusion, science and myth. Could this be a hallucination, brought on by being on the verge of death after falling into the ocean?

Meanwhile, satellites orbiting above the Arctic Ocean were recording anomalous images that would undoubtedly shock the entire world. Centered around the Longji research vessel, seawater and ice cap within a radius of tens of kilometers were being pulled and absorbed by a bizarre force, rapidly vanishing without a trace. Both the shattered research vessel and the massive beast, Nine Infants, which had fled tens of kilometers away, were drawn in. They hadn't truly vanished into thin air. Instead, influenced by the bronze vessel's field force, they had been pulled into a microscopic world.

The numb coldness and suffocating sensation from being immersed in the seawater felt as if it lasted for days, yet also just an instant. Then, with a *thud*, Li Weiyi fell heavily onto an unknown surface. The continuous weightlessness and dizziness, combined with excessive blood loss and the heavy impact of the fall, left Li Weiyi dazed and his vision clouded, even though his physical condition was far superior to an average person’s.

Fortunately, there was a noticeable air cushion during his descent, and the ground was not hard.

“Such soft earth. Where am I?”

Li Weiyi had fallen face-up, creating a human-shaped indentation nearly a foot deep. His entire body ached too much to move, so he remained unaware that he had landed on a seven-to-eight-meter-tall, grayish-white burial mound.

The ancient and magnificent bronze vessel seemed otherworldly, like a sacred mountain lying on its side. Its masts, like colossal divine pillars, towered from its deck. The canvas sails, like vast clouds, were enveloped in shadowy mist, billowing grandly in the wind, exuding a majestic aura.

The deck itself was vast and eerie, featuring countless towering grave mounds and stone steles, each weighing tens of thousands of jin, creating a profound sense of desolation and solitude. Li Weiyi had landed on one of these mounds. The piled earth was grayish-white, resembling both bone ash and lime, yet it possessed a strong stickiness, characteristic of soil.

His back, the back of his head, and his left arm—torn by the bear-like creature—all throbbed with intense pain. His entire body felt sore and weak; he didn't even want to move his eyelids.

“No... I’m still alive.”

As this thought dawned on Li Weiyi, his eyes snapped open. He saw a low sky filled with dense, shadowy clouds, and a profound sense of disbelief washed over him. How had he survived, after clearly plummeting into the Arctic Ocean? He recalled having numerous hallucinations as he neared death: seeing blue and crimson light, the Dao Ancestor’s Tai Chi Fish’s eye transforming into a planet, and a bronze vessel setting sail...

Just as this thought crossed his mind, Li Weiyi witnessed the Longji research vessel plummeting from the dark, heavy clouds above. The massive hull tumbled, constantly shedding debris and figures, accompanied by screams and cries of agony. The speed of its descent gradually slowed, as if the ethereal glow and nether mist surrounding the bronze vessel were neutralizing the research vessel’s gravity.

*Boom!* The research vessel crashed nearby, with the sound of metal deforming and breaking. The entire bronze vessel vibrated from the impact, and the tremor resonated within Li Weiyi. Li Weiyi’s scalp tingled. A mix of bewilderment and anxiety filled him as he struggled to prop himself up, but failed.

High-pitched wails, like those of an infant, echoed piercingly through the air. From the thick, shadowy clouds overhead, the Nine Infants—a beast over two hundred meters long, covered in scales, with a torso like a giant ox, and all nine heads wailing hoarsely—plunged downward. What sent a chill through Li Weiyi was realizing he was directly beneath the Nine Infants' descent path. If it were to crash down, even with some unknown mystical force cushioning the impact, he would surely be crushed.

As the Nine Infants fell, its eyes transformed from terror to delight upon seeing the bronze vessel below. Its wails turned into joyful laughter, as if it had been waiting countless years for this very day.

*Whoosh!* A colossal golden claw, even larger than the Nine Infants’ body, suddenly burst forth from the thick, shadowy clouds and seized it. The claw appeared forged from gold, exuding a metallic sheen and immense power. It was incredibly sharp, effortlessly piercing the Nine Infants’ body. Behind the shadowy clouds, a terrifyingly immense silhouette emerged, radiating a vast, world-devouring aura, like a colossal beast capable of traversing the cosmos. Yet, upon clearly seeing the bronze vessel below, it flapped its wings with evident apprehension and vanished into the endless, dim chaos.

“What... what exactly is this place? Am I truly still alive?” Amidst shock and confusion, Li Weiyi gradually lost consciousness.

Blood continuously seeped from the wound on his arm, mixing with the grayish-white grave soil. Unusually, the blood began to flow thread by thread along the grave soil, accelerating as it seeped into the mound.

“Weiyi! Weiyi…” Zhao Meng frantically called out in the dense, misty grave forest, running and searching. Soon after, he finally found Li Weiyi on top of a burial mound and pulled him from the human-shaped depression. The grave soil in the pit showed no trace of blood, though Li Weiyi’s face was as pale as paper.

After Zhao Meng carried Li Weiyi away, a string of wind chimes made of white bone, hanging from the tombstone in front of the mound, swayed in the wind, emitting clear, melodious sounds that added an unsettling charm to the terrifyingly silent night.

Li Weiyi felt as if he had slept for years, his exhausted consciousness slowly returning like a few wandering strands. The sound of waves reached his ears, and a cool breeze brushed against his face. He slowly opened his eyes. His vision, at first blurry, gradually sharpened.

“You’re finally awake! Athletes really do have different physiques; I thought you wouldn’t pull through,” Qi Shanshan said with a faint smile and a hint of surprise in her voice, then walked towards the door. Although Li Weiyi only saw a graceful figure in white walking away, he knew it was Dr. Qi, who had accompanied their team.

“He’s awake, but still very weak…” Dr. Qi’s voice drifted in from outside the door, speaking to someone indistinctly.

Li Weiyi surveyed his surroundings. The sickbed beneath him appeared to have been salvaged from the research vessel. His room was constructed from fragments of the ship, resembling a spacious tin shed, with discarded scraps still scattered on the floor. A blood bag hung from a wooden pole, and a needle in his right arm indicated he was receiving a transfusion. Inside the tin shed, six other individuals lay injured: some with broken legs, some partially paralyzed, and others unconscious.

Through the makeshift door of the shed, he could see the bronze ship’s bulwark a few meters away. The bulwark was thickly encrusted with verdigris, giving it an ancient aura mixed with the desolate feeling of having been abandoned for centuries. He could hear the rhythmic sound of waves and feel the subtle vibrations as they struck the ship’s hull. The wind blew in from outside the door, seemingly carrying over the bronze bulwark.

“So, everything I experienced wasn’t a hallucination? It was all real?” Li Weiyi whispered.

“Of course it’s real,” a cool, clear voice preceded Cai Yutong’s entrance. “We seem to have fallen into a completely unknown oceanic world. Hmm... most likely within a microscopic perspective.”

She walked in alongside Qi Shanshan, who wore a white doctor’s coat; both women were tall and striking.

Li Weiyi’s heart skipped a beat. “Microscopic perspective? What does that mean?”

“I don’t fully understand either; it’s just what the leaders said. Something about Buddha’s sarira, microscopes, and this bronze vessel... they seem to have known some of this information for a while.” Cai Yutong, still maintaining her cool demeanor, placed a finger on Li Weiyi’s forehead and nodded in satisfaction. “It’s good that your fever broke. It wasn’t in vain that I donated blood for three days for you.”

Qi Shanshan immediately interjected with a teasing chuckle. “Oh, already taking credit, are we? I knew you had ulterior motives the moment you started donating blood.”

Qi Shanshan and Cai Yutong had been college roommates and were both brilliant, exceptionally talented students from the chemistry department. When their relationship was good, they were like close confidantes. When it wasn’t, they were constantly in subtle competition. Later, one pursued a medical master’s degree while the other continued to specialize in chemistry. With the direct competition gone, their friendship actually deepened. It was Qi Shanshan who learned about this Arctic expedition from Cai Yutong and then, as a close friend, “ordered” her to recommend her to their superiors. She was pragmatic and skilled at seizing opportunities, always actively seeking chances for advancement.