High King

Ancient Bronze Engraving

Night had long fallen, and neon lights flickered along the streets, casting a vibrant glow over the bustling city. Towering skyscrapers lined the skyline, reaching into the heavens. However, from the perspective of space, all of this seemed insignificant, like mere specks on a small patch of land.

This was no ordinary night. It was destined to be anything but calm, as dozens of control rooms on Earth kept their focus firmly locked on the dark skies above.

In the silent expanse of space, nine dragon corpses shimmered with a cold, metallic sheen, their massive bodies covered in black scales the size of large fans, reflecting faint, ominous glints of light.

Dragons—legendary beings that shouldn’t exist—were now eerily real, suspended in the cosmos. The image captured from space was a sight that shook the soul, a terrifying and awe-inspiring vision. The massive dragon horns branched like ancient trees, exuding both power and mystery. Their bodies, as vast as mountain ridges, were strong and imposing. Their scales, sharp like blades, gleamed coldly in the darkness, an overwhelming display of grandeur.

These nine enormous, lifeless corpses challenged the very foundations of human understanding, shattering long-held beliefs.

“How has life been for you these past three years, Ye Fan?” Many people were concerned about Ye Fan and asked him with genuine care.

“It’s been okay. My life has been pretty quiet, and nothing particularly noteworthy has happened over the past three years,“ he replied.

At that moment, the group at Liu Yunzhi’s table came over to toast, offering many words of well-wishing. Everyone clinked glasses, and the atmosphere grew lively.

Earlier, those who had said they would punish Ye Fan with drinks didn’t seek him out specifically. It wasn’t until Lin Jia and Wang Ziwen came over one after the other that Ye Fan had a drink with each of them individually.

As the evening wore on, many people started to show signs of intoxication. Later, the group headed to a karaoke bar, where the singing seemed to transport everyone back to their youthful university days.

“How many once adored your youthful beauty, but who will endure the relentless changes of time? How many have come and gone, but through it all, I have stayed by your side…”

Perhaps truly drunk, a pair of classmates who had once dated during university but were forced to part after graduation sat in silence, lost in thought. As the lyrics echoed through the room, the female classmate broke down, her eyes filling with tears, and she began to cry uncontrollably, prompting the others to comfort her.

After graduation, none of the couples among their classmates had stayed together. Though they had carefully nurtured their campus romances, in the end, none survived the transition into the real world. Graduation seemed to carry with it a curse—each year, countless students repeated the same heartbreak.

Unfortunately, this cycle of tragedy is likely to continue for many reasons: youthful impulsiveness, the pressures of finding a job, and the realities of society, among others.

Almost everyone sang songs from three years ago, performing with deep emotion. Their heartfelt voices brought everyone’s thoughts back to the past, vividly recalling scenes from their student days.

Eventually, the inevitable “karaoke king” emerged, monopolizing the microphone for far too long, though their voice was anything but pleasant. The sound was almost painful, but it brought a sense of amusement, and everyone burst into laughter despite the auditory onslaught.

It was late when they finally left Haishang Mingyue City. The next day, there were plans to visit their alma mater.

Many of the classmates who had traveled from afar had booked rooms at the same hotel, and a few with cars volunteered to drive them there.

“Lin Jia, I’ll drive you back to the hotel,” Liu Yunzhi said, pulling his Toyota up beside her.

Some classmates were considering taking taxis, but with limited space in the nearby cars, they hesitated to ask for a ride from Liu Yunzhi and the others.

At that moment, a Mercedes pulled up by the curb. Ye Fan got out and approached a female classmate who appeared haggard, saying, “Let me drive you back.”

Ye Fan felt sympathy for her. In university, she had been a joyful and innocent girl, always cheering on her classmates from the sidelines of the soccer field, sometimes shyly handing out bottles of water. But now, life had taken its toll, and she appeared melancholy and pale, rarely speaking the entire evening.

Seeing Ye Fan stop and offer her a ride, she was both touched and overwhelmed. No one had paid her any attention all evening, and she wasn’t used to being the center of her classmates’ gaze.

On the other side, Liu Yunzhi was visibly shocked to see Ye Fan driving. His expression quickly turned dark.

Around them, the others had mixed reactions—some were confused, others surprised, and a few appeared deep in thought.

All eyes, knowingly or unknowingly, turned toward Liu Yunzhi. The reality they saw conflicted with the impression he had given earlier.

In that moment, Liu Yunzhi felt as though his face was burning, as if he had been slapped. The classmates who had previously taken a high-and-mighty tone with Ye Fan now felt a similar discomfort. They wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

A few onlookers, especially those who had toasted with Ye Fan earlier, wore amused expressions. It seemed like the scene had taken some of the wind out of Liu Yunzhi’s group.

At that moment, two more classmates joined Ye Fan’s car, familiar faces he knew well.

As the Mercedes carried them away, many were left standing in stunned silence. Liu Yunzhi remained stiff, feeling the weight of their gazes pressing into his back.

Meanwhile, far above in space, the atmosphere inside the International Space Station was tense. The astronauts were on edge, their nerves stretched to the limit.

In the dark and cold void of space, the nine colossal dragon corpses remained, their thick iron chains stretching across the sky, tethering them to a massive bronze coffin. The sight evoked an overwhelming sense of desolation and ancient mystery.

Earth’s decision-makers had already agreed: if any major changes occurred, the nine dragon corpses and the mysterious bronze coffin would be destroyed immediately.

But no one wanted that outcome.

The nine dragons pulling the coffin from the depths of the cold, silent cosmos held immense value, far beyond estimation.

Suddenly, the main monitoring room on the space station detected a mysterious signal—an unusual fluctuation. The source was close by: it was the bronze coffin, pulled by the nine dragon corpses, emitting strange waves from the ancient, blurry patterns on its surface.

“Impossible to decipher…” The signal was transmitted back to Earth, but even the most advanced supercomputers could make no sense of it.

The ancient patterns on the bronze coffin were partially obscured by corrosion, making them difficult to fully decipher.

“Preliminary analysis suggests these engravings are linked to ancient Chinese myths,” the various monitoring stations concluded. “The beast figures on the coffin resemble those described in China’s Classic of Mountains and Seas, while the human figures depicted seem to represent deities.”

Despite identifying some of the patterns on the bronze coffin, the weak, mysterious signal remained impenetrable, leaving scientists with no clues to its meaning.