Thump, thump, thump!
Lin Suhe felt as though he could hear his own heartbeat—so fierce, so clear, as if his heart might leap out of his chest at any moment.
At the summit of the pitch-black mountain, a young man in dark robes sat cross-legged, his black hair loosely cascading, each strand shimmering with an eerie, spiritual glow.
A pearl radiating five-colored brilliance transformed into a luminous moon-like halo behind his head, casting his face into obscurity, leaving only his deep, icy eyes visible—eyes as unfathomable as the abyss of the ocean.
No, “he” was not the right word—”He” seemed far more fitting!
He appeared ordinary, dwarfed by the mountain, yet His presence made one instinctively disregard the heavens, the earth, and even the mountain itself, as if they were merely His backdrop, His throne. Moreover, He gave the impression of existing beyond this world, beyond this moment, as if He stood outside of everything, quietly observing the passage of time and the shifting of eras.
As a cultivator from the Seven Seas and Twenty-Eight Realms, and one who had mingled with many ancient figures, Lin Suhe was no stranger to the extraordinary. He had attended the birthday celebration of the Three Xiao Goddesses as an attendant, visited the abodes of true immortals, and glimpsed countless arhats, bodhisattvas, celestial venerables, and buddhas from afar. Yet none possessed the aura of this young man—none carried that sense of timelessness!
*He is undoubtedly the most powerful divine being I have ever encountered, a figure of unparalleled significance in the cosmos!*
Just as this thought crossed Lin Suhe’s mind, the celestial being casually pinched the air, stirring the vast sea of primordial qi into a tide that condensed into a radiant crystal.
“Stellar River Meteorite Crystal? Creation from the void!” Lin Suhe shuddered in shock, his heart pounding like a drum. Then, he heard the being speak in a calm voice:
“Since I have saved your life, you shall deliver this to the Fusang Ancient Tree Realm for me.”
With a wave of His hand, a flash of emerald light passed, and Lin Suhe found himself holding a mottled jade box and the Stellar River Meteorite Crystal.
Before he could utter a word, the world around him shifted, and his senses vanished.
His figure rapidly receded, as if rippling through time, reappearing beside a road where the motorcade of the Great Zhou’s CEO passed by, then in an ordinary garden where four elderly men played mahjong while a young woman in goose-yellow martial attire practiced her swordplay with unwavering focus. He appeared again on a bustling street, chatting with a white-robed girl waiting in line for steamed buns, then in a swirling abyss of black mist where all his senses were stripped away, and finally above a dark, churning vortex, his mind blank, his vision lost.
At last, he found himself above the azure sea, his flight slowing as he sought concealment, the waves beneath him undulating gently, exuding a rare tranquility.
“Another rift to the Nine Nethers…” Lin Suhe gasped as he took in the scene along the coastline. Then, he froze—why was he holding a mottled jade box and a Stellar River Meteorite Crystal?
At the sight of them, memories flooded back—the black mountain, the dark-robed man whose presence eclipsed the world, His command—but nothing else. It was as if the rest had never happened.
*He saved my life?*
A realization struck Lin Suhe. He must have been in grave danger. Without hesitation, he accelerated his flight, parting the waves as he fled toward the familiar Seven Seas and Twenty-Eight Realms.
A mere few moments after his departure, a deafening explosion erupted without warning. The seabed trembled violently as if collapsing, forming a terrifying vortex from which layers of darkness seeped outward, staining the surroundings.
Though shaken to his core, Lin Suhe had narrowly escaped the vortex’s emergence. After plunging into the sea and choking on the saltwater, he regained his senses and swiftly took flight again, breaking free from the water’s surface.
Looking back at the monstrous vortex, he shuddered, unable to imagine what would have happened had he been even a second slower.
*Was this what He meant by ‘saving my life’?*
Lin Suhe glanced down at the jade box and the crystal in his arms, breaking into a cold sweat. Without delay, he transformed into a streak of light, racing toward the nearest island with a teleportation array, desperate to reach the Fusang Ancient Tree Realm as soon as possible.
*Could He be one of the demonic deities of the Nine Nethers?*
—
**In a certain layer of the Nine Nethers, atop the black mountain…**
After Lin Suhe “retreated” from this realm, a hazy, near-primordial light descended from the sky where a black sun hung, landing beside the dark-robed man. It materialized into a handsome figure wearing a feathered crown, a flowing robe, straw sandals, and a silk sash around his waist. A faint crimson aura surrounded him, blending seamlessly with the environment—none other than the illustrious True Lord Erlang, Yang Jian.
He sat down casually, glancing around. “Where is Lady Gu?”
“She has gone to plan against the Old Mother of No-Life,” the dark-robed man replied in a low voice—none other than Meng Qi, who had once taken refuge in the Nine Nethers.
With the help of the eerie Blood Peach’s peculiar attraction to Donghuang’s remnants, Gu Xiaosang had transferred the terrifying flesh and blood within herself and Meng Qi into the Human Emperor’s Sword, sealing and suppressing it with the essence of the Nirvana Realm, thereby awakening Meng Qi.
However, since Donghuang’s flesh had already ravaged his inner world and corrupted his body, the two spent an eternity using the dual cultivation method, harmonizing the concepts of Primordial Chaos and the complementary forces of beginning and end, to slowly extract, grind, and assimilate the remnants into themselves, restoring normality.
Afterward, they systematically ventured into the remaining fragments of the Myriad Realms within Donghuang’s body, honing their skills while battling Donghuang’s lingering spirit and the innate gods and demons. As they slew and assimilated more of these beings, the balance of power shifted dramatically, allowing them to sweep through the Myriad Realms and erase Donghuang’s remnants entirely.
With this foundation, Meng Qi and Gu Xiaosang refined Donghuang’s flesh without further hindrance, advancing by leaps and bounds. They also deciphered the laws of time and other Great Daos contained within the Little Peach. Naturally, due to their differing cultivation levels at the time, Meng Qi could endure and refine more, reaching the pinnacle of the Creation Realm within the Nine Nethers. By retracing his past to his very origin, he achieved the pseudo-Nirvana state. Gu Xiaosang, too, reached completion a decade ago.
Throughout these years, neither spoke much of the past tragedies—pain and hatred were etched too deeply in their hearts to need voicing.
Yang Jian did not press further, smiling instead. “It seems you’ve begun preparations as well.”
Meng Qi nodded slightly, his tone steady. “I’ve made another small breakthrough. From today onward, I will gradually build momentum, step by step, until the time is ripe to ascend to the Nirvana Realm before the Old Mother of No-Life.”
Even as he spoke her name, a ripple of emotion passed through his voice.
“Ascending to Nirvana requires the alignment of time, place, and people. Patience is essential,” Yang Jian said, his pristine countenance untouched by the Nine Nethers’ gloom. “However, an opportunity will arise soon.”
Meng Qi showed no surprise. “You mean Maitreya?”
“In the past, the Old Mother of No-Life reversed time to resurrect the Vase Envoy. Amitabha Buddha also sought to alter history, ensuring Maitreya’s ‘Future Sariras’ remained intact. Yet Maitreya refused, vowing, ‘I shall not ferry sentient beings, nor save the end times, nor seek the future.’ Now, the Earthly Pure Land spans half of the Real World and countless realms. Maitreya has touched the threshold of Nirvana, poised to break free from the sea of suffering,” Yang Jian explained, his voice free of shadow. “Once He attempts to prove His Dao, the century-long peace between the Earthly Pure Land and the Vacuous Hometown will shatter. The Nirvana beings will inevitably clash—that will be your opportunity.”
Meng Qi nodded. “A rare chance, but one’s foundation is rarer still. Priorities must not be reversed.”
Yang Jian clapped his hands lightly. “Well said! The Demon-Subduing Sage was too fixated on seizing the moment, leading to his tragic downfall.”
Meng Qi studied him intently before speaking slowly. “Since you began searching for the Primordial One’s whereabouts, your movements have been shrouded in mystery. After eons of preparation, your foundation must surpass even Maitreya’s, as must your hope of attaining Nirvana. Why place your hopes on me instead of striving yourself?”
Yang Jian chuckled softly before answering solemnly. “I’ve always been cautious, fond of keeping secrets and holding back. I lack the temperament for life-or-death struggles—in that regard, I fall short of you, Little Uncle, and even the Monkey King. Even with all conditions met and no Nirvana beings obstructing the path, the odds of breaking free from the sea of suffering are but fifty-fifty. Failure leaves no room for a second attempt.”
“Moreover, the Patriarch left me a prophecy, and my own intuition tells me my moment lies in the next epoch—if there is one.”
“Then why place your hopes on me?” Meng Qi’s gaze deepened, as if reflecting Yang Jian’s very image.
After a pause, Yang Jian replied:
“Simply put, Little Uncle, you are not just the Devil Buddha’s other-self—you are also the Primordial One’s means of severing karma. From the moment you accepted the ‘Dao Yi Seal,’ it was like the Monkey King embarking on the path of the Eight-Nine Arcane Art.”
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