Chapter 116: The Temptation of the Cup
As Xu Zhi stepped once more into this strange land, buried memories stirred to life.
She suddenly remembered—Midnight was startlingly similar to the dream she entered during her last upgrade.
The difference was that the forest in the Grand Dream was white—pure white trees, and even the sky was immaculate and pale, with no sun or moon in sight.
Whereas Midnight was cloaked in darkness, a ghastly pale moon hung in the sky, casting a dim light over the silent forest.
Beyond that, the forest in Midnight felt more alive—or rather, more real than the one in the Grand Dream.
Whether it was the damp soil underfoot, the scent of the earth, or the messy branches of the trees—everything looked more like it belonged to the real world than the surreal dream did.
And yet, despite all that, the two were unnervingly alike.
“So… is there some kind of connection between Midnight and the Grand Dream?”
“Or maybe… they were once the same place?”
Xu Zhi guessed wildly, but quickly stopped herself.
There was no point in baseless speculation. She’d just ask the Narrator once she was out.
Unlike last time, when she entered with a lantern bearing the [Lamp] attribute, this time as soon as she stepped into Midnight and touched the thin mist creeping across the ground, she felt unwell.
It wasn’t a physical discomfort—it was more like a faint dizziness and nausea, the kind of sensation caused by some kind of mental corruption or spiritual contamination.
It was still mild, but Xu Zhi could tell—this “pollution” was constantly eroding her spirit and mind. The longer she stayed, the worse it would get, until eventually it broke through her defenses completely.
What would happen then?
Xu Zhi didn’t know—and didn’t want to find out.
She just wanted to finish the task and get out of here.
Because beyond the mental corruption, she also sensed… eyes—a few of them—lurking in the darkness, watching her.
Perhaps last time the [Lamp] attribute shielded her from these prying eyes. The [Moth] didn’t have the same effect.
And [Nightmare] hadn’t appeared in front of her.
Before entering Midnight, she had even gone to check on the little cat. It, of course, knew nothing, still aloof and proud.
According to the Narrator, the little cat and its true form, [Nightmare], were not linked—so Xu Zhi had worried she might get entangled with Nightmare the moment she entered. Now, she could finally breathe a sigh of relief.
Sensing the pollution that clung to her spirit, and the eyes that watched from the shadows, Xu Zhi didn’t stay where she was. She started walking deeper into the forest.
She had no idea where she was supposed to go. The Narrator hadn’t given her any clues—just said it didn’t know what she’d find, but that there would be a way to solve her problem, if she could find it.
Which sounded an awful lot like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Except Xu Zhi had no choice but to find that needle.
With no hints to go on, she simply picked a direction at random and began walking.
Unlike last time in the Grand Dream, where she tested herself deliberately, this time she chose to trust her luck.
All adversity can be conquered by those blessed with great fortune!
That’s what she told herself—but even so, she couldn’t help feeling anxious as she walked.
She didn’t have much time. Once she was halfway through her time limit, she’d have to turn back—and already, she had been walking for five or six minutes without seeing a single ghost or monster.
Only a growing pressure in her head and a constant assault of spiritual contamination.
Finally, just as she silently counted her eighth minute, a voice suddenly rang out next to her ear.
A ghostly whisper—so sudden it made her skin erupt with goosebumps.
The voice asked, “Little girl, you seem to be looking for something. What are you searching for? Tell me—I can help you find it.”
Bullshit!
That was Xu Zhi’s first thought.
She quickly turned to look beside her—but saw nothing.
“You’re looking for me, aren’t you? You want to see me? Then extinguish your lantern, and let’s meet face-to-face.”
What a joke.
Only a brainless cultist would fall for that line!
Wait…
Could this thing be another product of the [Cup] attribute?
The same brand of mindless drivel…
Xu Zhi didn’t respond. But the voice didn’t give up. It kept chattering at her:
“You’re in such a rush—you must be looking for something. I’ve been here a long time. I can help you, you know.”
At first, Xu Zhi was sure it was just talking nonsense.
But as it kept whispering, and as the dizziness from the mental pollution worsened…
A strange thought slipped into her mind: What if it’s telling the truth?
Then came its voice again:
“I promise you—I never lie. Come now. Put out the lantern. Come with me.”
Xu Zhi felt a real urge to obey. Her steps faltered. The hand holding the lantern began to lift.
That’s when, suddenly, a glowing moth appeared before her grey eyes, flapping its wings rapidly, almost as if in a panic, trying to warn her.
Its wings shattered mid-air, scattering into grey particles of light.
Xu Zhi snapped out of her trance, horrified at what had just happened.
A cold sweat rose across her back. If not for the moth…
Even though she was the strongest among human Transcendents, here in Midnight, she was nothing. So fragile. So weak.
“Damn moth!”
“You are one of the moth’s chosen?”
The voice came again, slithering through the air.
“Yes… I smell the scent of moth on you.”
There was confusion in its tone—and a hint of frustrated resentment.
“You’d be perfect for the Cup. Why cling to that useless moth? Come to us instead.”
It was still trying to tempt her. But Xu Zhi, remembering the feeling from earlier, no longer dared to listen too closely.
She could only silently lament—So it really is a follower of the Cup. If not for the moth, it probably would’ve realized something was off.
It might not have known the truth, but its goal was clear: to tempt her—then kill her.
But what exactly was it?
Why was it in Midnight?
Those were questions for another time.
Right now, something else took priority. Just as she was about to continue forward, a chilling realization struck her.
Her footsteps stopped. Her heart turned cold.
How much time has passed…?
From the moment she entered Midnight, she had been keeping track of time in her head—but that Cup follower’s interference had thrown her off.
Now… she had no idea how much time had slipped by.
How long had she been lost?
Just a few seconds?
Or… several minutes?
How much time does she have left to move forward?
Or worse—had she already run out of time?
Could it be… that she had no time left—not even to return?
She couldn’t take the risk.
She had to go back—immediately.
