Chapter 1240: The Mysterious Seal

After several fluctuations in his thoughts, Meng Qi had already made up his mind. No matter what, trying wouldn’t hurt.

Given the current situation, with the Green Emperor having traversed the Sea of Bitterness and becoming the sole “Other Shore” existence walking the world, all factions had no choice but to quiet down. Since the beginning of the Cataclysm, there was finally a relatively stable environment, and it seemed this peace could last a long time—until the other “Other Shore” beings fully awakened and returned.

However, whether in cultivation or action, one must maintain a mindset of “preparing for danger in times of peace.” One must not relax or lower their standards, lest unforeseen events occur—such as the Demon Buddha, whose aura had begun to leak, secretly plotting schemes; the Fengdu Emperor harboring ill intentions regarding the Origin of Life and Death; or the True Martial Emperor, whose state was bizarre and whose power was inexplicable, possibly harboring variables.

More importantly, the Green Emperor, who once floated in the Sea of Bitterness, had only one goal: to reach the Other Shore. Now that He had attained enlightenment, other “desires” would inevitably emerge. Would He develop His own designs regarding the Heavenly Court, the Human Emperor, the Nine Nethers, or the Netherworld? Would such designs align with the interests of Meng Qi, his elder brother, and others?

Though Meng Qi had aided Him in attaining enlightenment, creating a karmic bond, he couldn’t interfere too broadly. Favors would eventually be repaid, and the karmic debt would one day be settled.

Ultimately, the Green Emperor’s thoughts were now akin to the “Will of Heaven,” and the Will of Heaven had always been lofty and inscrutable. The only thing cultivators in this world could do was strive to improve themselves, hoping to one day leap beyond the chessboard and become part of that “Will of Heaven”!

With a flash of light, Meng Qi leaped into the infinite heights, beholding the ancient, majestic, and profound Jade Void Palace, surrounded by thirty-six ancient wells. The jade railings reflected an eerie glow, shimmering with unfathomable depth.

The Dao Yi Glazed Lamp manifested in his eyes as the “Cause of All Effects” combined with the Jade Void Divination rapidly calculated. Black and white streams of light flowed in Meng Qi’s eyes before finally settling on one of the ancient wells.

Entering through this well would allow him to avoid the “Primordial Projections” that had developed independent consciousness. Though he was unafraid of them given his current strength, there was no need for unnecessary conflict or slaughter.

With a single step, Meng Qi plunged into the ancient well. Darkness surged before his eyes, swirling with chaotic time and space, an abyss of terror forming, leading to unknown secret realms or ancient universes.

Just as he pierced through layers of illusory veils and arrived in a certain universe, an irresistible force suddenly pulled him into a bizarre world, merging him with a slumbering, indescribable Primordial Deity!

The entire process felt as natural as the creation of the world or the end of an epoch, as if ordained by the Great Dao itself. Even with the divine wonder of the “Cause of All Effects,” Meng Qi could only comply.

Of course, it wasn’t that he couldn’t sever this fusion—he could have done so in an instant. But in that fleeting moment, he realized this Primordial Deity was the “Primordial Projection” of this universe. After the “Primordial Heavenly Lord” vanished, it had never developed independent consciousness and remained in slumber. The moment Meng Qi entered this universe, he would inevitably connect with it, naturally absorbing it as one of his “Other-Self Marks.” The only way to avoid this was to never enter in the first place.

Figures began to emerge around Meng Qi—Brahma the Creator and other “Other-Self” manifestations appeared one after another, with the Primordial Deity now standing among them.

Indeed, it was the creator of this universe, the origin of all things. It had defeated the projections of other “Other Shore” beings, annihilating them all and gaining absolute control over this realm. It understood every detail of the cosmos, bearing the weight of heaven and earth.

This information surged into Meng Qi’s mind as a terrifying flood of data. Had he not already attained the Legendary realm, his head would have exploded from the sheer volume of incomprehensible information. Even so, it took him a long time to fully integrate and control it.

Just as he finished, Meng Qi suddenly let out a soft “Hmm?”

Based on fragments of the information flow and the surrounding darkness devoid of stars, where time crawled sluggishly, he concluded that the former “Primordial Projection”—now his “Other-Self Mark”—was in a state of sealing. It could only faintly sense fragments of the boundless universe, unable to transmit even a sliver of power!

It seemed to have been locked in a “black room”… A “Primordial Projection” in a sealed universe connected to the Jade Void Palace’s ancient wells had been locked in a “black room”… Meng Qi’s lips twitched, sensing something amiss.

Had some “Other Shore” existence taken advantage of the “Primordial Heavenly Lord’s” disappearance to infiltrate this place, gradually seizing control? And because the “Primordial Projection” was dormant, despite its immense power, it was easily sealed?

“Universes like this are isolated from the outside, their essence close to the Real World. They aren’t easily infiltrated. Before fully awakening, an ‘Other Shore’ being can’t do much…” Meng Qi set aside his emotions and pondered calmly. “Which means I have ample opportunity to thwart their schemes, undo this exquisitely crafted seal, and, through this confrontation, glimpse the true purpose behind such struggles among ‘Other Shore’ beings.”

He had already tested the seal. Its essence wasn’t particularly strong, yet it was mysteriously intertwined with the entire world. To break it, one would either need to find the key or destroy the universe itself—a rather thorny problem.

Of course, the seal only isolated the “Primordial Projection,” so it couldn’t stop Meng Qi from leaving. But every time he entered, he would appear at the sealed point, unable to bypass it.

Meng Qi sat cross-legged in the dark seal, streams of information flashing in his eyes as he sought the seal’s origin.

After some time, he found that the seal was rooted in this world’s River of Time, as if it had existed since the universe’s creation and would persist until its end. There was no discernible starting point. So he shifted his approach, searching for the earliest anomaly or uncontrolled variable.

Every detail of this universe’s past surfaced in Meng Qi’s mind. Most of its future should have been clear as a result, but at a certain juncture, an eerie variable emerged, disrupting the River of Fate and sending its tributaries into chaos. Now, it was evolving, possibly leading to undesirable outcomes.

The variable shone like a point of light in Meng Qi’s vision. The cosmic imagery zoomed in—from galaxies to star systems, from star systems to a single star, and from that star to a particular planet.

“There…” Meng Qi closed his eyes, sending forth a powerless strand of consciousness toward that location, hoping to find the key to breaking the seal.

Though the seal was ingenious, it lacked absolute essential power. Moreover, Meng Qi was an external variable, possessing consciousness—something the original “Primordial Projection” lacked—placing him outside the seal’s scope. Thus, he could slip through undetected, albeit with only a wisp of powerless awareness.

The only issue was that this consciousness held no strength whatsoever.

As his awareness drew near, all relevant information about the place unfolded before him—except for the parts distorted by the variable. After brief consideration, Meng Qi chose the long-deceased Daoist Yunji, a figure of some renown who had passed away in the deep mountains, and took over his power-drained yet uncorrupted body.

…

A fine rain fell, washing the long streets as dark clouds gathered overhead, casting the world into gloom.

A carriage entered the capital, stopping at the mouth of an alley. The door opened, and a black-robed Daoist stepped out. His features were gaunt, and he carried no umbrella. Gazing upward at the sky, he strolled leisurely through the drizzle.

This was Meng Qi, now in the guise of Daoist Yunji.

Deep within the palace, past layers of halls, a figure watched as leaden clouds swirled, forming what seemed like a gate to the Nine Nethers. In a grave tone, he said, “Your Majesty, the Mandate of Heaven has changed!”

…

In an ordinary courtyard, hidden guards stood watch while a dozen or so individuals—some dressed as Daoists, others as commoners—gathered in a side room.

“My father is resolute in his desire to eradicate Daoism and destroy its temples. I have no choice but to feign compliance, lest I be thrown into the dungeons immediately. Revered Daoists and valiant heroes must lay low for now and avoid the storm,” sighed a man in his thirties with a fine beard.

A Daoist nearby was about to speak when the room fell silent. All eyes turned toward the courtyard gate.

A black-robed Daoist was approaching, strolling through the rain as if on a leisurely walk, making no effort to conceal his presence!

“Daoist Yunji?” A white-bearded Daoist frowned, his voice low.

Daoist Yunji? The others exchanged puzzled glances.

This was a senior among seniors in the Daoist tradition, long retired to the mountains and unheard of for years. Why would he suddenly appear now, at such a critical juncture?

The man who had referred to himself as “this lonely one” signaled with his eyes, retreating into a hidden passage within the side room with a few others. The rest opened the gate to welcome the newcomer. The gaunt, black-robed Daoist strode forward without hesitation.

“Are you Senior Yunji?” the white-bearded Daoist asked hurriedly.

Meng Qi smiled faintly. “This old Daoist observed the celestial signs at night and saw that Daoism faces imminent peril. Thus, I have descended to lend my aid.”

At this, a ruddy-faced Daoist with an air of authority frowned. “Senior, given your advanced age, your cultivation must have waned considerably.”

As a master himself, he could see that Meng Qi’s steps were unsteady, devoid of any martial prowess. Was this truly help, or merely adding to the chaos?

Meng Qi looked at him with amusement. “You are Li Chongkang, yes? Last night, you tossed and turned, repeatedly considering turning yourself in to the authorities but stopping at the door each time. Is this not so?”

Li Chongkang froze, then flushed with anger. “You speak nonsense!”

Yet inwardly, an uncontrollable dread gripped him. He had indeed wavered, but he had neither spoken aloud nor confided in anyone. His restlessness had seemed entirely normal. How could this man discern his hidden thoughts?

This was inhuman—almost demonic!

Li Chongkang, abbot of the Capital’s Hidden Heaven Temple, could summon wind and rain, command thunder and lightning. Once a contender for the title of Celestial Master, he had fallen short. Now, he secretly kept two concubines but had no children, having damaged his foundation in youth, suffering from an undisclosed ailment… Every detail of Li Chongkang’s life unfolded in Meng Qi’s mind. To him, the man held no secrets—nor did any of the other Daoists or warriors present.

As a creator deity bearing the weight of the cosmos, descending into the mortal world was like stepping into a book he had written himself. He knew every character’s past, secrets, and general fate—only the variable remained elusive.

“In the ninth month of the seventh year, did the current emperor obtain anything unusual?” Ignoring Li Chongkang, Meng Qi posed an odd question.