Starting to Gain Experience from Push-Ups Chapter 935 - 472

Upon hearing Fang Cheng’s question, a glint flashed through the blood-red eyes of Chen Hongye.

He gave Fang Cheng a once-over and asked, somewhat puzzled:

"Judging by your expression, is this your first time entering another person’s Spiritual Secret Realm?"

Fang Cheng nodded noncommittally.

"I see."

Chen Hongye immediately assumed the stance of a mentor and patiently instructed:

"Mr. Fang, don’t be anxious. To enter the Spiritual Secret Realm, a spiritual beacon must first be established between the caster and the visitor."

"Now, relax your body, clear your mind, and focus your entire consciousness on the spell I am about to recite. Remember it well."

"Then, simply recite it silently, and you will be able to leave your Divine Soul and find the location of my Secret Realm following the beacon."

After speaking, he slowly sat down cross-legged and began to recite a lengthy and obscure spell in a slow and solemn tone.

The syllables were extremely awkward but contained a mysterious rhythm, echoing gently in the silent night sky.

Like an invisible key, it’s knocking on a door leading to an unknown space.

"This is my secret contact phrase."

Upon finishing the recitation, Chen Hongye’s eyes flickered as he spoke solemnly:

"Mr. Fang, I will proceed first and wait in the Secret Realm."

With that said, he slowly closed his eyes.

That broken body abruptly trembled and then became rigid like a stone sculpture.

All signs of life—breathing, heartbeats, even the glow of spells on his body surface—vanished instantly.

He maintained his sitting posture, his soul seemingly pulled from the shell, reverting to a cold corpse.

Fang Cheng gazed at Chen Hongye’s lifeless body and similarly sat cross-legged in front of him.

Then he slightly closed his eyes, concentrating his spirit, passed the exceedingly complex spell through his mind, and recited it accurately in a low voice.

Soon, his breathing became long and subtle, almost indistinct.

He seemed to have fallen into a deep meditation.

The lingering of the spell drifted away with the night breeze.

The two participants "went offline," leaving the dark manor eerily silent.

The bonfire continued to flicker, casting distorted shadows on the crumbling walls.

The Chen Family and monks from Cui City Temple lay on the ground, unconscious, their fates unknown.

Lin Chuqiao, Pan Wendi, and Bai Ling exchanged glances, then each stood around Fang Cheng, quietly forming a protective circle.

Lin Chuqiao’s expression was the most grave. She tightly clutched her amulet, vigilantly scanning the surroundings, missing no detail.

Pan Wendi and Bai Ling nervously watched Fang Cheng, not daring to breathe.

Only Chen Xu’an stood slightly further, his expression fluctuating, eyes filled with complex emotions, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Fang Cheng’s consciousness was traversing through the densest of black fog.

Guided by the spell, he quickly locked onto coordinates hidden within the endless darkness.

At the edge of the consciousness world, a building emitting a dark red glow slowly emerged from the fog.

It was an indescribably eerie structure.

With the outline of an ancient temple yet resembling a giant tomb, exuding a grim sense of death.

The walls were covered with reliefs resembling human faces, and the lintel embedded with a huge skull of an unknown creature.

As Fang Cheng’s gaze met it, he faintly heard the shrill wails of countless vengeful spirits.

Taken aback, Fang Cheng took a step forward.

The next second, he stood in front of the eerie dwelling.

Before he could raise his hand, the red door made a teeth-grinding "creak" sound and slowly opened inward by itself.

A hazy blood-red halo emanated, illuminating the area before the door.

As if welcoming a traveler from the darkness.

Fang Cheng, unfazed, expertly stepped into the light gate.

A flash of red light before his eyes, and the space suddenly shifted.

His silhouette immediately appeared within a spacious room.

Upon touching the ground, a piercingly cold wind swept across his face.

The surrounding temperature seemingly dropped to freezing point.

Fang Cheng raised his eyes, seeing a dimly lit hall.

In the very center, stood an altar piled high with white bones.

Every skull’s eye socket was directed at the entrance, silently watching the visitor.

The altar housed no idol nor visible offerings.

Only a tombstone-like slab stood alone, with dried dark blood stains remaining on its surface.

Beyond that, the walls and floor of the room were densely covered with dark red spells.

They moved subtly like living things, emitting an eerie red light, making the space resemble a purgatory.

On closer inspection, these spells were identical to those on Chen Hongye’s body.

"Welcome, Mr. Fang, to my humble abode."

At this moment, an aged yet resonant voice echoed within the space.

Fang Cheng withdrew his gaze and turned towards the voice.

The bone altar in the hall’s center had an additional figure, unnoticed until then.

The person, with crane-white hair and youthful complexion, wore a loose white Taoist robe, his face thin, exuding a semblance of immortal grace.

However, the eyes meant to be wise and peaceful were shockingly blood-red, undermining his aura, making him appear like a sorcerer gone mad.

This person was none other than Chen Hongye, who had waited long.