C2 The Mysterious Wooden Box!

"Brother Ning Que, you've finally woken up."

Ning Xian'er was ecstatic, instinctively embracing Ning Que just as she always did, oblivious to the astonishment on his face.

A pleasant scent enveloped them. Ning Que couldn't resist inhaling deeply, a smile forming on his face.

The sensation of being alive was truly wonderful.

"Okay, Xian'er, let go now. If you squeeze any tighter, I might suffocate."

After a moment, Ning Que began to feel somewhat sheepish. At his age, full of youthful vigor, and with his bare chest pressed against her, it would be quite embarrassing if he lost control of himself.

No sooner had he spoken than a gust of wind rushed past him, and a dagger, gleaming with a frosty glint, was pressed against his neck. The icy sensation made him gasp, and he froze, not daring to move.

The look of joy on Ning Xian'er's face had vanished, replaced by a steely coldness. "You're not him. Who are you, really?" she demanded.

Ning Que remained motionless, quickly realizing why her reaction was so intense. The old Ning Que was a simpleton, barely able to string words together. His eloquent response had clearly raised Ning Xian'er's suspicions.

"Uh, Xian'er, please put the dagger down, and I'll explain. I've fully recovered. I'm not the fool I used to be."

Ning Que tried cautiously to move his neck away from the blade, but the dagger followed his every move, forcing him to abandon the attempt.

"I'll give you one more chance," Ning Xian'er said, her voice as cold as the blade at his throat. Ning Que swallowed hard, knowing that if he couldn't provide convincing evidence in the next moment, the dagger would not hesitate to slice through his throat.

Just then, an image flashed through Ning Que's mind. A boy and a girl were playing by the sea when a sea beast with sharp claws stealthily approached. Its claws, gleaming coldly, reached out toward the girl. Without a moment's hesitation, the boy charged forward, shielding the girl, and the beast's claw struck him in the left rib.

Ning Que relaxed and offered Ning Xian'er a smile, gesturing to the wound on his left rib. "Remember this?" he murmured. "That sea creature was so sly. Had I been a moment slower, it could have clawed you instead. It would be such a shame for a girl like you to bear a scar like mine."

"Brother Ning Que," Ning Xian'er said, finally sheathing her dagger with an embarrassed look.

The origins of the wound on Ning Que's left rib were known only to himself and Ning Chaoping, so his words effectively eased Ning Xian'er's concerns.

"Are you truly all right?" Ning Xian'er circled Ning Que, still finding it hard to believe that the once foolish man had miraculously recovered his senses after nearly drowning. It seemed like a stroke of good fortune.

Ning Que couldn't divulge the truth about being a transmigrator; it was a secret he kept to himself, knowing that sharing it would likely lead to disbelief. So, he responded with a few noncommittal remarks.

"I must hurry and tell the Patriarch. He will be overjoyed to hear about your recovery," Ning Xian'er said after a pause, her smile returning as she spoke to Ning Que.

The Patriarch, Ning Que reflected internally, was now his father. Having assimilated Ning Que's memories, he felt an unexpected sense of belonging to his current family, free from any sense of alienation.

"By the way, what happened to the wooden box I retrieved from the sea?" Ning Que inquired after a moment of silence.

He remembered from his assimilated memories that he had fallen into the sea chasing after a wooden box that seemed to enchant him. Even now, he couldn't shake the memory.

"It's here," Ning Xian'er replied, retrieving a weathered wooden box from a nearby cabinet. "You clung to it so tightly when you were brought back; it took quite an effort to pry it from your grasp. I've kept it safe; no one else has touched it."

Ning Que reached out, took the box from her, and examined it closely, turning it over in his hands.

Ning Xian'er, seeing that he was unharmed, turned and left the room to notify Ning Chaoping.

The object in question was a rectangular wooden box, its surface once adorned with ancient patterns now nearly obliterated by the ravages of seawater. The type of wood from which it was crafted remained a mystery, as it was seamless and showed no signs of wear. Unlike typical wooden items that decay over time, this box had seemingly drifted at sea for ages yet remained perfectly preserved. Ning Que toyed with it for some time but couldn't find any means to open it.

Yet, a hollow sound echoed from within when he tapped the box, a clear indication that it contained something.

"Forget it, I'll figure out how to open it when I have more time," Ning Que muttered to himself. As he was about to set it aside, a sudden shiver ran through his soul, and a sinister, murky aura burst forth from the box. Whispering chants filled his ears, and abruptly, a dark, smooth entrance materialized atop the box, irresistibly pulling him in.

Ning Que, having only recently awakened, was once again plunged into darkness and vanished from the room.

Upon regaining consciousness, Ning Que found himself in a vast hall, its perimeter lined with dark red candles casting an eerie, crimson glow throughout the space.

At the center stood an ancient sarcophagus, identical in design to the wooden box he had retrieved from the sea. Ning Que stared in horror, his body involuntarily shuddering.

The sarcophagus was ajar, revealing nothing of its contents. Ning Que, though not faint-hearted, found the atmosphere too chilling and bizarre to dare a closer look. He had no intention of risking his life on such a mysterious and ominous sight.

Aside from the sarcophagus exuding a cold presence, the hall was barren. In front of the sarcophagus, however, sat a stone table adorned with various bottles and jars.

Ning Que cautiously approached, each step measured and deliberate, wary of any unforeseen dangers lurking in the hall. Reaching the stone table without incident, he breathed a sigh of relief.

There were numerous items on the stone table. Ning Que picked up a bottle, removed the cork, and was immediately enveloped by a heartwarming fragrance that made his entire body feel incredibly relaxed.

"This has to be something valuable."

Muttering to himself, Ning Que's gaze drifted to the corner of the table, where a deep blue ring caught his eye. Oddly enough, while the rest of the items were coated in a thick layer of dust, this ring shone as if brand new, untouched by even a speck of dust. It was clear to anyone that this ring had a remarkable history.

Curious, Ning Que picked up the ring and slipped it onto his finger, only to be astonished as the ring seemed to come alive, tightening to fit him perfectly.

He attempted to remove it but found it impossible to do so.

"Whether it's a blessing or a curse, it cannot be avoided," Ning Que mused, suddenly realizing that his actions might have been rash. The hall was filled with eerie elements, and his carelessness might just attract some unwanted entity.

After a moment of stillness, with no apparent consequences, Ning Que slowly turned his attention to the enigmatic sarcophagus at the center of the hall.

The sarcophagus was peculiar, and upon laying eyes on it, Ning Que felt an inexplicable sensation, as if it were alive or contained something living.

As soon as Ning Que's gaze landed on the sarcophagus, the entire hall was bathed in a surge of red light emanating from the half-opened stone container.

Caught off guard, Ning Que watched as the red light intensified. Then, a plant with a sinister red glow began to sway gently, emerging from the sarcophagus.

Ning Que tried to look away, but for some reason, he found himself completely immobilized, unable to move a muscle.

Eventually, the eerie plant fully emerged from the sarcophagus, intensifying the chilling atmosphere in the hall. An inexplicable force bore down on Ning Que from all sides, making him feel as though his body had been struck by a sledgehammer, with his organs aching as if shattered.

The plant's roots were a vibrant green, crystal clear, presumably anchored within the sarcophagus, and for reasons unknown, chose this moment to reveal itself.

Atop the green stem, there were five buds, each the size of a palm with petals as red as blood. The pistils were an even deeper shade of red, writhing slowly as if they were living creatures.

Ning Que, enduring an ever-increasing, terrifying pressure, couldn't help but lament inwardly. If only he had known better than to tamper with that wooden box, he wouldn't have found himself in such dire straits.

As his strength waned, the ring on his finger suddenly emitted a flash of blue light, and a blurry figure emerged. Though Ning Que's eyes were fixed, he caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye of a gaunt old man, stroking his beard and smiling at him.

"Young man, did you think you could handle the Soulflower? Now you understand its power," the old man said, his eyes crinkling into a smile as he observed Ning Que's rigid form.

Ning Que was unable to respond; the pressure was immense, like an invisible giant hand squeezing him, threatening to crush him into a pulp.

"Help, help me..." Ning Que managed to croak out, his voice hoarse with effort. The old man, sensing Ning Que's desperation, smiled faintly and flicked his finger. A stream of dark blue light burst forth, entering Ning Que's body and immediately lessening the pressure. Overwhelmed with relief, Ning Que collapsed to the ground, limp as a rag doll.

"Thank you, old man, for your help," Ning Que said, once he had caught his breath, offering a feeble gesture of thanks.

"No need for thanks. After all, I'm counting on you to lead me out of here," the old man replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, still smiling.

"What is this place? And why are you trapped here?" Ning Que inquired, puzzled. The old man before him was clearly no ordinary individual. If he was trapped here, how could Ning Que, of all people, hope to lead him out?

"You may call me Ling Jing. This place is likely a small realm created by a powerful being. My old friends and I ventured here seeking the Soulflower. Sadly, we only considered the flower's allure and failed to anticipate the presence of a far more formidable entity. My friends perished when they opened the sarcophagus. I had something to fall back on and narrowly escaped the same fate, but my physical body was destroyed. I had no choice but to seek refuge within the Abyssal Ring."

Ling Jing was talking to himself as Ning Que glanced at the Soulflower once more. Thanks to Ling Jing's earlier assistance, the Soulflower no longer seemed as daunting. Yet, Ning Que's curiosity was piqued when Ling Jing mentioned the original occupant of the sarcophagus.

"What a shame, four Soul Emperors gone in an instant, centuries of cultivation wasted. It's truly tragic," Ling Jing said, his tone tinged with sorrow. Clearly, those who had accompanied him here in the past shared a deep bond with him.

Ning Que, still somewhat puzzled, couldn't resist asking, "Ling Jing, are Soul Emperors really that formidable?"

Ling Jing looked at Ning Que with a mix of astonishment and disbelief, as if he were staring at someone utterly clueless. "You really don't know?" he asked, amazed.

Ning Que nodded earnestly. The memories he had absorbed were filled with mundane details and lacked any substantial information.

"I was out of my mind before, but I've only recently come back to my senses," Ning Que explained.

Ling Jing still seemed skeptical, but Ning Que continued, speaking nothing but the truth. He saw no reason to hide it and felt no embarrassment about his past confusion.