Chapter 92 - Ninety: The Gate That Asked Too Many Questions

Chapter 92: Chapter Ninety: The Gate That Asked Too Many Questions

Lin Yue had a rule for dangerous adventures.

Never begin one on an empty stomach.

She had another rule for mysterious magical routes.

Never trust anything that appeared in golden light without checking whether it could bite.

And, after recent events, she had added a third rule.

Never let Lumi pack the supplies.

Unfortunately, the third rule had been established too late.

"Why," Lin Yue asked, staring into the enormous bundle tied to Lumi’s back, "are you carrying twelve steamed buns?"

Lumi puffed out its little chest.

"Emergency food!"

"Emergency for whom?"

Lumi glanced at Shen Rui.

Shen Rui smiled. "Apparently, me."

"Good answer," Lin Yue said. "At least one of you understands the importance of keeping me happy."

Shen Rui leaned closer. "I thought that was my most important responsibility as your husband."

"It is."

"Then I should receive a reward."

Lin Yue raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For remembering."

She tried not to smile.

Lumi looked between them, then made a disgusted little noise.

"Flirting again. We are going to a mysterious place, not a wedding banquet!"

"We’re already married," Lin Yue reminded it.

"Exactly! How much longer must I endure this?"

Shen Rui calmly picked up another basket.

"Until you find someone to flirt with yourself."

Lumi froze.

Its little wings drooped.

Then it hugged the bundle of steamed buns protectively.

"I have no time for romance. I have important food-related responsibilities."

Lin Yue laughed so hard that she nearly dropped the supply list.

For a moment, the strange messages, the forgotten life, and the mysterious woman waiting somewhere beyond the Golden Space seemed far away.

There was only her farm, her husband, and one ridiculous little creature who considered twelve steamed buns essential survival equipment.

She wanted to remember this morning exactly as it was.

Not because it was extraordinary.

Because it was hers.

By midmorning, the preparations were complete.

Lin Yue had checked the water flasks, dried food, first-aid supplies, rope, compass, field notebook, and emergency lantern. She had also left detailed instructions for the farm workers and marked the return point on her map.

The irrigation channels were working properly. The vegetable beds had been watered. The new seedlings were protected beneath their covers.

Nothing would fall apart simply because she went exploring for a day.

That was the difference between a reckless adventurer and a woman who had built a farm from almost nothing.

One trusted luck.

The other left instructions, spare tools, and enough food for everyone.

Aster appeared above the table as a pale blue projection.

"Preparations complete. Estimated return time: uncertain." ℴℴ𝘮

Lin Yue gave it a flat look.

"Could you make that sound less encouraging?"

"I can change the wording."

"Please do."

"Preparations complete. Your return is not guaranteed."

"ASTER!"

"Would you prefer the original wording?"

Shen Rui covered his mouth, but the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

Lin Yue pointed at the projection. "If you ever become a real person, I am putting you in charge of cleaning the chicken coop."

"I will record this threat."

"Good. Record it accurately."

Aster flickered away.

Lumi immediately climbed into the supply basket.

Lin Yue pulled it out by the scruff.

"No."

"I need to inspect the snacks!"

"You inspected them yesterday."

"They may have changed."

"Steamed buns do not evolve overnight."

"You don’t know that!"

Shen Rui took the basket from Lin Yue and placed it over his shoulder.

"Come along, little inspector. You can count the buns while we walk."

Lumi brightened.

"Finally! A leader who understands my talents!"

Lin Yue looked at her husband.

"You’re encouraging it."

"I am preserving peace."

"That’s what you call it?"

"Marriage has taught me many useful things."

"And what is the most useful?"

Shen Rui bent his head and whispered, "Never argue with my wife before breakfast."

Lin Yue’s cheeks warmed.

Lumi groaned so dramatically that it nearly fell out of the basket.

"Someone please close the gate before they start again!"

Unfortunately, the gate was still several hours away.

The golden route appeared where the last crescent-shaped marker had awakened.

At first, Lin Yue saw nothing unusual.

There was only a stretch of grass beyond the familiar orchard, a few old stones half-buried in the earth, and a line of trees growing along the boundary of her Golden Space.

Then the cracked crystal seed in her palm began to glow.

A thin golden line unfolded across the grass.

It passed between the trees, curled around a moss-covered stone, and continued into a place that should not have existed.

Lin Yue tightened her fingers around the seed.

"Everyone stays close."

Shen Rui took her hand.

"Of course."

Lumi popped its head out of the basket.

"What about the buns?"

"They stay close too," Lin Yue said.

"Excellent. We are finally a proper expedition."

They followed the glowing line.

The first strange thing happened after twenty steps.

The trees behind them disappeared.

Not dramatically. No explosion, no magical smoke, no ominous thunder.

One moment, the familiar orchard stood behind them.

The next, there was only a quiet curtain of silver mist.

Lin Yue stopped immediately.

She tied a strip of bright cloth around a nearby branch, then walked a few paces forward and checked her compass.

The needle spun once before settling toward the golden path.

"Boundary distortion," she murmured. "Or a concealed passage."

Aster’s projection appeared beside her shoulder.

"Confirmed: the route does not follow ordinary spatial measurements. I can track the signal from the crystal seed, but I cannot determine the full destination."

"Can you find our way back?"

"I can attempt to retrace the signal."

Lin Yue gave it a stern look.

"Attempt?"

"My certainty would be dishonest."

"Fine. I appreciate the honesty. I still don’t like it."

Shen Rui gently squeezed her hand.

"We have our markers, our supplies, and each other. If anything changes, we stop and reassess."

Lin Yue looked at him.

That was one of the things she loved about Shen Rui.

He never treated her caution as cowardice. He never mistook confidence for recklessness. When she planned, he helped. When she hesitated, he waited. And when she needed to be brave, he stood beside her without trying to take the decision away.

She squeezed his hand back.

"Good. Let’s see what our suspicious little road has to offer."

From the basket came a muffled voice.

"Hopefully a restaurant."

The path ended at a bridge.

Or what appeared to be a bridge.

Seven broad stone slabs floated above a deep, silver-colored ravine. There were no railings, no ropes, and no visible supports. Beyond the ravine stood an enormous iron gate covered in curling vines.

The golden line continued straight across the floating stones.

Lin Yue crouched to examine the nearest slab.

It was old, but not crumbling. Tiny symbols had been carved along its edge, including the crescent and seed markings they had seen at the boundary.

She tossed a small pebble onto the first slab.

Nothing happened.

She waited.

Still nothing.

Then she stepped onto it.

The slab sank three inches.

Lin Yue immediately stepped back.

The stone rose again.

Lumi peered over the basket’s edge.

"Perhaps it wants a toll."

"It’s a stone," Lin Yue said.

"A very suspicious stone."

Shen Rui examined the bridge.

"Perhaps it responds to weight."

"Or movement," Lin Yue said. "Let’s test one thing at a time."

She placed her pack on the first slab.

It sank slightly.

She removed the pack.

It rose.

She stepped onto it again, keeping her weight balanced.

The slab held steady.

After several careful tests, she discovered that the stones moved only when someone stepped too quickly from one to another. If they paused and distributed their weight, the bridge remained stable.

"Slow steps," she instructed. "No jumping, no running, and absolutely no unnecessary heroics."

Shen Rui nodded solemnly.

"Understood."

Lumi raised a tiny claw.

"What about necessary heroics?"

"Those require my permission."

"Unfair."

They crossed one at a time.

Halfway over, a gust of wind swept through the ravine.

The fourth slab tilted.

Lin Yue’s foot slipped.

Shen Rui caught her hand before she could lose her balance, pulling her safely against him.

For a heartbeat, they stood close enough to hear each other’s breathing.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Good."

His arm remained around her waist.

Lin Yue looked up at him.

"You can let go now."

"I could."

"But?"

"I am enjoying the view."

She stared at him.

Then she pinched his arm.

Shen Rui laughed and released her.

From the basket came a horrified squeak.

"I nearly lost my lunch, and you two are making eyes at each other!"

"You were not even on the bridge," Lin Yue pointed out.

"I was emotionally on the bridge!"

They finally reached the other side.

Lumi emerged from the basket, planted both feet on the ground, and announced, "I have survived the first trial."

"You were carried across," Lin Yue said.

"Leadership takes many forms."

Shen Rui brushed a stray leaf from Lin Yue’s hair.

"Are you ready?"

She looked at the enormous iron gate.

The vines covering it were not dead. Tiny leaves trembled in a breeze she could not feel, and a single white flower had bloomed in the center.

The cracked crystal seed grew warm in her palm.

"Ready," she answered.

The gate opened before she touched it.

And a voice spoke from somewhere inside.

"State your purpose."

Lin Yue blinked.

She had expected a trap.

Possibly a guardian.

Perhaps even a dragon.

She had not expected a gate with questions.

"To enter," Lumi said promptly.

The gate remained shut halfway.

"An incomplete answer."

Lumi looked offended.

"How can an answer be incomplete when it is correct?"

"Purpose must be declared."

Lin Yue stepped forward.

"We are looking for the person who made the choice."

The iron vines shifted.

"Which choice?"

Lin Yue hesitated.

The message had been clear enough: THE PERSON WHO MADE THE CHOICE IS WAITING.

But the choice itself remained a mystery.

"I don’t know," she admitted. "That’s why I’m here."

For several seconds, nothing happened.

Then the gate spoke again.

"An honest answer."

The iron doors swung open.

Lumi’s mouth fell open.

"That worked?"

Lin Yue smiled faintly.

"Sometimes, the truth is the only useful answer."

"Then I shall tell everyone that I am the most beautiful creature in this entire expedition."

The gate immediately began closing.

Lumi shrieked.

"WAIT! I WAS TESTING IT!"

Shen Rui caught the gate with one hand while Lin Yue hurried through.

Lumi scrambled after them, clutching its precious basket.

The gate shut with a heavy clang.

A small inscription appeared above the arch.

THOSE WHO ENTER MUST NOT CONFUSE WHAT THEY WANT WITH WHAT THEY NEED.

Lin Yue read it twice.

"That sounds inconvenient."

Shen Rui looked at her.

"Does it?"

"Very. I want a peaceful afternoon. Apparently, I need to meet mysterious strangers and solve ancient problems."

"Perhaps the peaceful afternoon comes afterward."

She slipped her hand into his.

"You had better make sure it does."

"I shall do my best."

"Good husband."

His smile deepened.

"Say that again."

"No."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

Lumi marched ahead, muttering about how the gate had clearly discriminated against attractive creatures.

For once, Lin Yue was grateful for the noise.

The silence beyond the gate was beautiful, but it was also unsettling.

And the last thing she wanted was to hear her own thoughts growing too loud.

The garden beyond the gate was impossible.

Not in the way the Golden Space was impossible, with its carefully cultivated fields and magical abundance.

This place looked as though someone had planted an ordinary garden and then forgotten to tell the world how time was supposed to work.

Apple trees grew beside towering stalks of golden grain. Vines climbed down from the sky instead of up from the soil. A narrow stream flowed uphill toward a little stone pond, where silver fish swam in circles beneath floating leaves.

At the center of it all stood a glass greenhouse.

Its roof was cracked. One wall had collapsed inward. Weeds covered the path leading to its door.

Yet a warm light glowed behind the glass.

Lin Yue stopped walking.

She could smell damp earth.

Fresh herbs.

And something wonderfully familiar.

Tomatoes.

Actual tomatoes.

She nearly forgot the mysterious route, the strange gate, and the possibility of meeting another version of herself.

"Someone is growing food here," she whispered.

Shen Rui followed her gaze.

"Would that be unusual?"

"In a hidden world that may have been abandoned for who knows how long? Yes."

She crouched beside a patch of green leaves growing near the path.

The plants were healthy, though their arrangement was irregular. Some had been deliberately pruned. Others had spread wherever they pleased.

Someone had been tending this garden.

Recently.

Lin Yue touched the soil.

Moist. Loose. Rich with decomposed organic matter.

She examined the nearest stem, then the surrounding ground.

"Whoever lives here knows what they’re doing."

Lumi sniffed the air.

"Do they also know how to cook?"

"Your priorities are deeply concerning."

"My priorities are delicious."

They approached the greenhouse.

A small wooden table stood outside its entrance. On it rested a clay teapot, two cups, and a plate of freshly baked biscuits.

Steam curled from the teapot.

Lin Yue froze.

Shen Rui’s expression changed.

"Someone knew we were coming."

"Or someone heard us crossing the bridge."

"Would you like me to check the surroundings first?"

She nodded.

He walked around the greenhouse while she examined the table. The biscuits were still warm. The cups were clean. Beside the teapot lay a folded piece of paper.

Lin Yue opened it.

The handwriting was neat, slightly slanted, and strangely familiar.

For the woman who always forgets to eat when she is investigating something.

She stared at the words.

A chill moved down her spine.

It was not simply the message.

It was the way the writer had phrased it.

As if they knew her habits.

As if they had watched her long enough to understand the small things she rarely noticed about herself.

Shen Rui returned to her side.

"What does it say?"

She handed him the paper.

He read it, then looked at her.

"Someone knows you."

"Apparently."

"Should I be jealous?"

Lin Yue stared at him.

"Of a mysterious person in a hidden world?"

"I am asking a reasonable question."

"You are not."

"Then I shall ask an unreasonable one. Should I be jealous of the biscuits?"

She burst out laughing.

The sound startled a flock of tiny silver birds from the nearby trees.

For a moment, the garden seemed less frightening.

Then she noticed the second line beneath the first.

I made enough for your husband, too. He looks like the sort of man who forgets to eat when he worries about you.

Shen Rui stopped smiling.

Lin Yue slowly turned toward him.

"Oh?"

He cleared his throat.

"That is an unfair assumption."

"Is it?"

"I eat regularly."

"Yesterday, you forgot lunch because I was testing the new irrigation channel."

"That was a special circumstance."

"And the day before, you forgot breakfast because I was arguing with Aster."

"I was supporting you."

"And the day before that—"

"Lin Yue."

She grinned.

"Yes, dear husband?"

He leaned closer and lowered his voice.

"If we survive this adventure, I am requesting that you stop collecting evidence against me."

"No promises."

He sighed.

But his hand found hers again.

Neither of them touched the biscuits.

Not yet.

The greenhouse door stood slightly open.

Inside, rows of clay pots lined the walls. Some held ordinary herbs, while others contained plants Lin Yue had never seen before. A wooden workbench stood beneath the window, covered with gardening tools, notebooks, and several glass jars filled with seeds.

A small fire burned in a stove.

Someone had been here very recently.

Lin Yue moved slowly through the room, taking care not to disturb anything.

The notebooks were filled with planting records.

Dates.

Germination rates.

Soil mixtures.

Notes about temperature, irrigation, and the behavior of plants under unusual conditions.

Whoever had kept these records was a serious gardener.

Lin Yue felt an unexpected warmth in her chest.

Even in a place where the world itself seemed uncertain, someone had chosen to plant seeds.

Someone had believed that tomorrow was worth preparing for.

She turned a page.

A sentence had been written across the bottom in dark ink.

A world does not need to be perfect to deserve saving.

Lin Yue’s fingers tightened around the notebook.

She knew those words.

Not because she remembered hearing them.

Because something deep inside her recognized them.

A fragment of a voice surfaced in her mind.

A hand covered in soil.

A broken compass.

A promise made beneath a black tree.

Then the memory vanished.

"Lin Yue?"

Shen Rui was beside her in an instant.

She took a slow breath.

"I’m all right."

He did not argue.

He simply waited until she looked at him.

"Do you want to leave?"

She considered the question.

The old instinct would have been to keep going until she found an answer, regardless of the cost.

But she had learned something since building her farm.

Rest was not surrender.

Asking for help was not weakness.

And no mystery was worth losing herself over.

"No," she said at last. "I want to understand this place. But if I start feeling unwell, we stop."

Shen Rui nodded.

"Agreed."

She gave him a small smile.

"Thank you."

He brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

"You don’t have to thank me for staying beside my wife."

Her cheeks warmed again.

From the doorway, Lumi made a gagging noise.

"I am begging you both to remember that I am still here."

"Then stop listening," Lin Yue said.

"I have tried! Your romance is louder than the stove!"

Shen Rui calmly picked up a biscuit.

"Would you like one?"

Lumi’s indignation vanished.

"Yes."

"Then perhaps you can be quiet for three minutes."

Lumi accepted the biscuit.

It took one bite.

Then another.

Then it whispered, with great reverence, "I forgive you both."

Lin Yue shook her head.

Some mysteries were apparently easier to solve than others.

The answer—or at least another piece of it—was waiting beneath the workbench.

A small wooden box had been pushed against the wall. It was unremarkable except for the crescent symbol carved into its lid.

Lin Yue placed the cracked crystal seed beside it.

The seed glowed.

A soft click came from inside the box.

The lid opened.

Within lay a blank book, a brass key, and a single silver leaf preserved between two sheets of clear glass.

Lin Yue stared at the leaf.

It was identical to the one that had appeared in her notebook back in the Golden Space.

She lifted the glass carefully.

The silver leaf shimmered.

Words appeared along its veins.

YOU HAVE BROUGHT THE SEED.

A second line formed.

YOU HAVE BROUGHT THE OBSERVER.

Then, slowly, a third.

BUT YOU HAVE NOT BROUGHT THE PERSON WHO REMEMBERS THE END.

The greenhouse grew very quiet.

Even Lumi stopped chewing.

Lin Yue looked at the blank book.

"Who remembers the end?" she asked.

The page turned by itself.

A fresh line appeared.

ASK THE WOMAN WHO MADE THE CHOICE.

A soft sound came from the far end of the greenhouse.

Footsteps.

Unhurried.

Familiar in a way Lin Yue could not explain.

Shen Rui moved closer to her, his shoulder brushing hers.

The footsteps stopped behind the partition separating the greenhouse from a small adjoining room.

Then a woman’s voice spoke.

"Lin Yue?"

Lin Yue’s heart gave a painful little leap.

The voice sounded like hers.

Not exactly.

It was softer, roughened by exhaustion, with a faint tremor that suggested the speaker had spent a very long time talking to no one.

"I wondered how long it would take you to find this place."

Lin Yue took one step toward the partition.

"Who are you?"

A pause.

Then the woman answered.

"Someone who made the choice you have been carrying."

The partition door opened a crack.

A hand appeared first.

There was a thin scar across its palm.

Lin Yue recognized the mark from the vision in her camera.

The hand held a brass key.

And on the other side of the door, the woman began to laugh softly.

Not because anything was funny.

But because, after all this time, she finally seemed relieved.

"There is one thing you should know before you see me," she said.

Lin Yue swallowed.

"What?"

The door opened a little wider.

The woman’s shadow fell across the greenhouse floor.

"The First World is not abandoned, Lin Yue. It is hiding from you."

To be continued...