Chapter 131: When time sneezes back
The forest wind twisted unnaturally—like the world was taking a breath it shouldn’t have.
Qi surged through the ground, spiraling into a single point before splitting open the air.
Li Ming tensed. "That’s not spatial distortion..."
Bai Guo’s feathers bristled. "Don’t tell me time’s misbehaving again."
A blinding crack of lightning hit the ground right in front of them. The earth shook.
When the smoke cleared, something small and very loud stood in the middle of a fresh crater.
A tiny golden beast—fur glowing with faint lightning runes, two horns twitching, and an expression that could only be described as offended.
Li Ming blinked. "...Little Thunderbub?"
Lei Shan yawned, stretching like a cat. "Took you long enough, old man."
Bai Guo’s beak dropped.
Lei Shan looked him dead in the eye.
Li Ming exhaled slowly. "And I’m guessing the universe didn’t send you here for small talk?"
The cub puffed up proudly. "Correction—I sent me here. You owe me cuddles and snacks."
---
But the Qi around Lei Shan wasn’t ordinary.
Lightning wasn’t just crackling—it was echoing, folding in strange patterns. The pressure of time itself pulsed around the cub like a heartbeat.
Li Ming frowned. "You shouldn’t exist here. Not a thousand years back."
"Blame you," Lei Shan said flatly. "You dropped something shiny in my food and now everything smells like paradox."
Li Ming froze. "Wait. What shiny?"
"This."
Lei Shan opened his mouth and spat out a small, glowing fragment.
Li Ming’s chest tightened.
It was part of his jade pendant—the one that had fallen into the cauldron and turned into the 10× elixir.
Except now... it wasn’t just glowing with spiritual energy. It shimmered with temporal resonance, vibrating like it was alive.
---
Bai Guo whistled. "You’re telling me the 10× cultivation pendant-turned-elixir survived, got digested by the cub, and then crossed time itself to say hi?"
Li Ming pinched the bridge of his nose. "You make it sound stupid when you say it out loud."
Lei Shan puffed his cheeks. "Don’t insult my meal! It was delicious. I even glowed for three days."
"Of course you did." Li Ming crouched, examining the pendant. "This fragment still holds trace signatures of that medicine’s Qi... and mine."
"Maybe it wants you back," Bai Guo said teasingly.
Li Ming’s gaze hardened. "No. It’s more like it’s calling me forward. Something I did in the future looped here."
Lei Shan tilted his head, sparks dancing across his horns. "Meaning?"
"It means," Li Ming said quietly, "whatever happened when I made that medicine—it wasn’t an accident."
---
Before anyone could say more, the fragment flashed.
A ring of lightning burst out, carving glowing runes into the ground.
Symbols—his own handwriting—appeared one by one:
> If the cub returns, run.
Bai Guo burst out laughing. "That’s your handwriting!"
Li Ming deadpanned. "Apparently, I’ve always been consistent at ruining my own life."
Lei Shan’s tail sparked. "You call me trouble? You literally left time-bombs as jokes."
"Self-preservation through humor," Li Ming muttered. "It’s a coping mechanism."
"Cope quieter," the cub grumbled. "You’re scaring the trees."
The runes faded, leaving only the glowing fragment—now humming softly, like a heartbeat counting down to something.
Li Ming stared at it, jaw tightening.
"Fine. If my future self wants to play games..." He slipped the pendant into his sleeve. "Then let’s see how far the joke goes."
Lei Shan leapt onto his shoulder, tail curling around his neck like a scarf. "Finally! Adventure time again."
Bai Guo sighed. "I’m surrounded by idiots with lightning."
The wind shifted.
Somewhere deep in the mountains, a temple bell rang—a sound that hadn’t existed yet.
Li Ming looked toward the horizon. "And the timeline just got another crack."
----
The crater still smoked from Lei Shan’s last lightning sneeze.
Li Ming stood in the middle, soaked in golden Qi, staring at the humming pendant fragment.
Lei Shan was busy chasing sparks. Bai Guo was perched on a boulder, muttering,
"If we live through this, I’m filing a complaint with the Bureau of Temporal Nonsense."
Li Ming ignored them. The pendant’s pulse was... rhythmic. Not random. It was counting.
Three beats, pause. Three beats, pause.
His eyes narrowed. "A code."
Bai Guo blinked. "A code that says what? ’Stop breaking time’?"
"No," Li Ming murmured. "It’s a return path."
---
The fragment’s glow deepened, projecting faint light lines in the air. They connected—forming a swirling diagram that looked like overlapping clock hands.
At the center of that web was a single rune: 止 — "Stop."
Lei Shan tilted his head. "That’s it? Just... stop?"
Li Ming felt a cold realization crawl up his spine. "The loop wasn’t meant to trap me. It was a brake. Future-me didn’t want me to go further."
"Then why not just write that on a rock?" Bai Guo said.
"Because apparently, I’m dramatic," Li Ming replied dryly.
---
The pendant vibrated harder, and flashes of memory flooded his mind:
—the day he brewed that medicine;
—the pendant cracking;
—the moment the elixir’s energy bent time itself to save him;
—the lightning cub swallowing the residue.
Lei Shan yawned. "You’re welcome."
Li Ming steadied his breath. "It was never a random paradox. The medicine fused with the pendant’s spatial-temporal matrix and used you as a... stabilizer."
Bai Guo blinked. "So the cub is a divine lightning anchor now?"
"Exactly," Li Ming said. "And the anchor’s been pinging me from both ends of time trying to sync reality."
Lei Shan scratched his ear. "So what now?"
Li Ming smiled faintly. "We finish the loop."
---
He held the pendant fragment in his palm and circulated his Qi through it.
Lightning flared—pure, bright, unrestrained. The fragment resonated with Lei Shan’s aura; their energies intertwined.
The clouds above spiraled open, revealing a glowing seam in the sky.
Through it, Li Ming glimpsed hundreds of overlapping visions—moments of his own past, present, and potential futures collapsing into one heartbeat.
In one of them, he saw his older self again—calm, serene, watching.
The older Li Ming raised a hand and mouthed silently:
> "Close it. You’ve already learned."
Li Ming nodded once. "Understood."
---
He pushed his Qi forward.
The pendant cracked—light bursting outward like thunder made of memory.
Everything froze.
Then time folded neatly, like paper finding its original crease.
The storm vanished. The golden pool dried into dust. The air steadied.
Bai Guo blinked. "Did... did we just fix it?"
Lei Shan sniffed. "Smells like yes."
Li Ming exhaled slowly, feeling the world settle. The fragment in his hand had gone dark, inert—its purpose fulfilled.
"The loop’s done," he said softly. "No more echoes, no more paradoxes. Whatever happened, it’s locked in."
Bai Guo tilted his head. "So we’re free?"
Li Ming shook his head. "Not yet. The timeline’s stable, but it’s still the past. My way home’s... somewhere ahead."
Lei Shan stretched, sparks dancing lazily across his fur. "Then what now?"
Li Ming looked at the horizon where ancient clouds rolled over an age that didn’t know his name.
He smiled faintly.
"Now," he said, "we live a thousand years early and make sure history regrets inviting us."
Lei Shan smirked. "Finally. Chaos with purpose."
Bai Guo sighed. "We’re doomed."
Lightning flashed playfully in the distance, as if the heavens agreed.
To be continued...