The rainstorm ceased, the dark clouds dispersed, and the sun illuminated Langya, casting a rainbow across the city—another radiant day had dawned.
The ethereal figures of immortals, jade towers, and the cold moonlight that had filled the Ruan residence all faded away, restoring the serene scenery. Yet, the sound of a zither soon arose, ethereal and melodious, its notes tinkling like a recounting of a lifetime—neither wind nor rain, neither sorrow nor joy.
Meng Qi sat in the Jade Void Palace of Kunlun Mountain, listening quietly for a long while before a shimmering light coalesced before him, forming a circular mirror that reflected the images of He Mu, Fang Huayin, Da Qinggen, and Xiao Tianquan.
Da Qinggen, already disheveled from his losses, stared blankly at Meng Qi and instinctively blurted, “Elder Sect Master, if you have matters to discuss, why not just send a message to the gatekeeper? Why go through such trouble?”
Fang Huayin and He Mu soon caught on as well, looking at their master with confusion, unable to fathom what urgent matter required such a summons instead of the convenient and swift virtual assembly function of the All-World Knowledge Token.
Of course, Meng Qi couldn’t admit he’d acted on a whim. Before his disciples, the gatekeeper, and the guard dog, he had to maintain a certain degree of dignity. He nodded slightly, offering no explanation, and said directly, “I have a task for you.”
“Master, please instruct us,” He Mu replied without hesitation.
Fang Huayin quickly followed, “Master, what is the task? This disciple will spare no effort to complete it!”
“Woof!” Xiao Tianquan wagged his tail.
Da Qinggen glanced left and right in the mirror, momentarily bewildered. Shouldn’t he have been the first to pledge loyalty? How had the others beaten him to it?
Had he been losing so badly lately, or was he simply too drained to keep up?
No, he couldn’t let his hard-earned survival skills be overshadowed!
With a thud, Da Qinggen prostrated himself and shouted, “Elder, rest assured! No matter the task, this humble one will brave fire and water, climb mountains of blades and descend into seas of oil without hesitation—”
A torrent of words poured forth, showcasing his profound expertise.
Beside him, Xiao Tianquan seemed stunned, as if seeing his “little companion” in a new light.
Meng Qi rubbed his forehead and muted Da Qinggen’s voice, speaking gently, “It’s a small matter, but quite tedious.”
He flicked his right hand, sending four golden motes flying through the light and across the world, landing on the foreheads of Da Qinggen, Xiao Tianquan, He Mu, and Fang Huayin.
A flood of information poured into their minds. He Mu frowned. “This is…?”
His tone was full of confusion.
Xiao Tianquan’s dog eyes glazed over, and Da Qinggen looked even more lost.
Meng Qi smiled. “Some rather extreme viewpoints. Each of you will take one and stir up debates on the forums of the All-World Knowledge Network. Remember to hire helpers to amplify the commotion—the goal is to drag every idle person into the fray.”
This was bait to lure out disciples of the Six Heretical Sects—the Thoughtless Sect, the Void-Stilling Mountain, and the Fate-Defying Sect.
Since they weren’t entirely reclusive—merely uninterested in divine arts, treasures, power, or manipulating the world’s tides—they still needed to travel, verify, and master their own paths. Thus, traces of them could still be found!
And as long as they set foot in the real world, they couldn’t avoid the All-World Knowledge Token. More importantly, those who needed to verify their paths were often junior disciples, likely still curious and unwilling to ignore the Token entirely. A little experimentation was only natural.
So, among the countless users of the All-World Knowledge Network, there were likely disciples of the Six Heretical Sects. Some might have originated from the real world, their backgrounds flawless; others might be using simplified versions, making their identities hard to confirm.
While Meng Qi could trace and inspect each one, it would consume too much of his time and energy, hindering his cultivation progress.
Of course, this was also a test for his disciples—a trial of their abilities and their own paths.
To fish out the Six Heretical Sects’ disciples from the ocean of users, they needed to target what mattered most to them. For those who sought neither divine arts, treasures, nor power—lofty, pure individuals—their greatest concern was undoubtedly their own beliefs and paths!
In the past, the Six Heretical Masters had parted ways with the Buddha over their convictions. Even after the Buddha attained the Other Shore, they never submitted to him. Throughout the ancient conflicts, they remained uninvolved.
Such was their sect’s tradition, and their disciples were no different.
Thus, the extreme viewpoints Meng Qi gave He Mu, Fang Huayin, and Da Qinggen were tailored to provoke the Six Heretical Sects’ disciples.
There was also strategy involved. For example, the Fate-Defying Sect, as seen from the Destiny Daoist, held a pessimistic view of fate, drifting with the tide. To criticize their beliefs, they’d likely shrug it off with a resigned “it’s destined.” So, the bait for them was an equally pessimistic, deterministic concept. Meng Qi had even descended his divine sense back to Earth to research and settled on “Laplace’s Demon,” hoping to spark discussion.
For the Void-Stilling Mountain and the Thoughtless Sect, their beliefs—”all things are things” and “all things are unknowable”—were to be ruthlessly and radically criticized, provoking anger while remaining flimsy enough for their disciples to engage in debate.
In this process, aside from Da Qinggen and Xiao Tianquan, He Mu and Fang Huayin would encounter numerous opposing and contradictory viewpoints, each seemingly logical in its own way. This would temper them, helping them solidify their own beliefs and paths. Only then could they resist the temptations of demons and the distractions of the world without losing their way.
Thinking this, Meng Qi couldn’t help but reflect that when he put his mind to it, he was quite the good master—not just teaching martial arts and combat, but guiding his disciples’ growth. If not for them, he could have re-entered the *Journey to the West* world to consult the Undying Demon God or sought guidance from his senior sister Manjushri.
Fang Huayin, who had been silently absorbing the information, nodded lightly. “This disciple roughly understands Master’s intentions.”
Da Qinggen, ever cunning and experienced in such matters, quickly caught on, even faster than He Mu. Only Xiao Tianquan took a while longer, needing Da Qinggen’s smug gestures to grasp the full picture.
Meng Qi smiled in satisfaction. “The world is vast. Those with similar goals may be few, but they exist. Their beliefs are often unformed. Once suspects are identified, do not act rashly. Have Da Qinggen record their ‘water meter numbers’—er, All-World Knowledge Token IDs—and compile them for my final review.”
“Disciples obey!” He Mu and the others responded promptly.
This task seemed rather interesting.
Meng Qi waved his hand, dispersing the light screen, leaving only a final echo:
“Don’t get too caught up in it…”
The quiet room returned to darkness as Meng Qi closed his eyes, his spirit roaming the myriad worlds, soaring through the boundless chaos, leaving “other-self imprints” in every bubble universe he discovered.
…
A magnificent palace floated in the dark starry void, its interior lined with golden thrones inlaid with gemstones, each seemingly symbolizing a fragment of the world’s authority.
At the front of the hall stood a stone pillar inscribed with ancient script:
“Pantheon!”
At this moment, the golden thrones were occupied by figures of varying forms, their divine power radiating. They did not speak aloud, their thoughts colliding like tidal waves in silent exchange.
Many thrones remained empty, their masters yet to be found.
Suddenly, the communicating deities fell silent as one, their gazes turning to the pillar bearing the words “Pantheon.”
Beneath it stood two shadowy thrones, chaotic yet orderly, their essence both merging and clashing.
These were thrones that had lain vacant for countless millennia.
A faint light flickered abruptly, and a figure materialized on the left throne, its right hand propping up its chin, its eyes like chaotic gemstones reflecting the images of all the gods.
Chaos expanded, and the Pantheon trembled slightly, as if welcoming its master’s return.
…
In a pointed magic tower, a hooded wizard stood beneath the bloody moonlight, examining an ancient ruin abandoned for at least ten thousand years.
The place was littered with signs of decay, yet strangely, there was no dust or overgrowth.
The wizard’s gaze settled on an intact but eerie star formation before him, analyzing and memorizing the ancient power it held.
Suddenly, the formation lit up rapidly yet orderly, erupting in a dazzling wave of light.
The startled wizard saw a figure emerge from the radiance—neither male nor female, a genderless deity gazing down at him with cold, unfeeling eyes.
…
Hmm?
Meng Qi’s eyes snapped open in the quiet room.
He had been projecting his consciousness across the myriad universes, smoothly leaving “other-self imprints” and creating corresponding avatars. But just now, he had encountered a universe his divine sense couldn’t penetrate!
A universe he couldn’t enter? Meng Qi stroked his chin, puzzled.
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