Chapter 167: The Wrong Path
Even Xu Zhi stood frozen at the edge of the cliff for a few seconds, stunned into silence as shock overtook her.
Only after her emotions settled a little did she begin to think: Why… was there a cliff here?
Had she taken the wrong path?
That was her first thought.
But when she carefully retraced the route she had walked, she couldn’t find anything that seemed “suspicious.”
If anything felt strange, it was only how smooth the journey had been — too smooth, in fact. She hadn’t expected that such an easy path would end with an impassable cliff waiting for her at the end.
Good grief.
Xu Zhi stood at the edge again, observing carefully for a while, then confirmed one thing: there was indeed no way forward.
It was a sheer drop, with no opposite side in sight.
The cliff edge was jagged and uneven, as though a path had once continued onward but had been violently torn apart, leaving only the broken ground beneath her feet.
And it was impossibly deep. In this pure white forest, this was the only place where darkness existed — a darkness born from a bottomless depth that swallowed all light.
As Xu Zhi gazed into that abyss, a chill of dread crawled up her spine, and she quickly stepped back to distance herself from the edge.
There was no doubt — this was not a cliff she could descend. That thought of “maybe I should go down and see” was immediately banished.
When she looked left and right, all she could see was the endless expanse of cliff stretching in both directions, merging with the blinding white of the sky. There was no path leading onward.
This road was a dead end. Xu Zhi could only turn back and look for another way.
She no longer cared whether the other roads were “wrong.” She couldn’t just stand here doing nothing.
As she walked past the tall, straight trees, a question began to form in her mind: These trees — so similar to those in Midnight — what were they?
Were they also graves…?
No, probably not. This place and Midnight felt like two opposites — so if the trees in Midnight were graves, then these must be something else entirely. But what?
Xu Zhi couldn’t come up with any reasonable answer. With no threats or distractions in the forest, she soon returned to where she had started.
And there, on the path she had taken before, she once again saw the black cat’s remains.
“Right.” She confirmed it again — this was indeed the path the ritual had guided her toward.
So now, it was time to check the wrong roads.
Before stepping into one, Xu Zhi hesitated for two seconds. But remembering the endless cliff at the end of the “correct” road, she didn’t have the luxury of caution. She had to take the risk.
The moment she stepped onto the path without the black cat’s remains, the sense of “danger” that had vanished earlier returned — pressing against her back. It felt as if, on the previous road, she’d been protected by some unseen blessing that shielded her from danger… and now that protection was gone.
Fortunately, she didn’t need to think about which path was right anymore — she wanted the wrong path. All she had to do was run to the end.
But the deeper she went, the more chaotic her extraordinary energy became. It surged wildly through her body, colliding and churning, running against its natural flow until Xu Zhi even felt something she hadn’t experienced in a long time — a painful stitch in her side.
Every breath hurt. Every step made her chest ache, warning her to stop — but she couldn’t.
After nearly ten minutes of running, she felt her power completely losing control, her body weakening under the strain. She had to focus all her will just to keep her legs moving.
Finally, just as she was about to collapse — she saw it again.
That hopeless, severed cliff.
—Even the wrong paths had no end. Only broken ones.
An indescribable despair clung to her heart like a shadow. Behind her, danger was closing in. She could sense a pair of black hands reaching for her, about to shove her off the cliff. But by now, her power had gone entirely berserk — she couldn’t even move a single finger.
Having entered a wrong path, all she could do now… was wait to die.
Still, Xu Zhi didn’t feel much regret. After all, if she hadn’t tried, how would she have known that every path — right or wrong — led to a dead end?
Luckily, just as those “hands” brushed her back, the ritual’s energy was exhausted. Xu Zhi vanished from the forest in an instant.
She had expected to fall off the cliff, but instead, the next second she was back in the real world. Only the burning pain on her back — left by that fleeting touch — reminded her of what had just happened.
She couldn’t help but sigh inwardly: That was pure luck. If not for luck, she would’ve been done for this time.
…No, if not for luck, she would’ve been done for many times already.
The chaotic energy within her didn’t calm immediately upon her return, but at least the unseen force that had driven it to frenzy was gone. She just needed to slowly bring it back under control.
Exhausted, Xu Zhi lay flat on the ground, completely ignoring her image — she was done pretending.
The game console’s voice came again, puzzled.
[Why do you look like this after going in once? Did you take the wrong road?]
[That’s impossible — the ritual’s guidance isn’t vague. As long as you pay attention, there’s no way to take the wrong path.]
Xu Zhi lay there for a while before turning her head to read the words, then sighed.
“It was me,” she said. “I chose the wrong road.”
[Are you insane?!]
The voice was bewildered.
Seeing that, Xu Zhi understood — it truly had no idea what had happened inside the forest.
Once again, she was reminded that the narrator wasn’t omnipotent or all-knowing after all.
[What happened?]
It knew Xu Zhi could be reckless sometimes, but not irrational. After the initial outburst, it immediately asked for an explanation.
There had to be a reason — something that made her choose the wrong path.
Xu Zhi tilted her head slightly, messy strands of hair falling over her face. With a weary look, she asked, “You really don’t know that every path in the forest ends in a cliff?”
[…???]
[！！！！]
A string of garbled symbols appeared on the narrator’s screen.
Clearly, it was completely stunned.
Xu Zhi couldn’t help but feel her bad mood ease a little at the sight.
[…What you said — is it true?]
For some reason, Xu Zhi could sense a kind of careful hesitation in those words. It knew she wouldn’t lie about something like this, but it still wanted to confirm.
The girl nodded earnestly, answering with absolute sincerity, “Of course. Do you really think I’d make something like that up to mess with you?”
