Within the pure land of the Qinghui Stone Temple, the eerie vortex formed by the “Origin of Life and Death” had vanished, and everything had returned to normal. The bodhi trees were lush and green, the spiritual springs bubbled gently, and the sala flowers bloomed in tranquility and harmony.
Suddenly, a flash of blood-red light, dark and nearly black, appeared as a massive figure slowly took shape—it was the Asura Progenitor, who had escaped the “Origin of Life and Death.”
Of his nine heads—each embodying wrath, slaughter, lust, and destruction—six had disappeared entirely. Only a little over three hundred of his thousand eyes remained, nearly half of them hollow and lifeless, weeping blood-black pus. The nine hundred and ninety-nine arms that once bloomed like petals around him now appeared sparse and ragged. His twenty-four massive legs, covered in scales, were uneven and broken. His external form alone was a pitiful sight. Despite his realm and the regenerative abilities of his half-divine, half-demonic flesh, there was no sign of recovery—it seemed the lost parts were gone forever.
“Zhenwu has reached such heights…” the Asura Progenitor couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.
Though the “Origin of Life and Death” had not augmented him as much as the Nine Netherworlds would have, failing to withstand even a single strike from Zhenwu was beyond his expectations. It felt like spending sixty years secluded in the mountains, mastering martial arts to perfection, only to step into the mortal world and find oneself unable to withstand a casual blow from an anticipated foe.
The Asura Progenitor suppressed his wounds, maintaining his wretched appearance as he retreated into the pure land, waiting silently. After a long while, he confirmed that he alone had survived.
“Severe injuries don’t matter—survival is what counts!” With this thought, the Asura Progenitor steadied his emotions and left the pure land.
Though such grave injuries might never fully heal, preventing him from ever regaining his ancient might, it was still better than exhausting his lifespan and being forced to seal his true form, leaving him with less than a tenth of his power. At least after comprehending the Dao of Life and Death, he had gained much, and his lifespan had grown abundant. Even if he could only recover to seventy or eighty percent of his former strength, it was enough. And if fate allowed, he might yet fully heal—perhaps by re-entering the “Origin of Life and Death” and borrowing its “essence of life” to mend his wounds.
Leaving the pure land and returning to the Qinghui Stone Temple, he casually waved a hand, extinguishing the blue lantern. A flicker of emotion passed through his heart:
“That fellow Daoist only lost a Yellow Spring avatar—far better off than I.”
An avatar capable of maintaining contact and control after entering the Buddha’s remnant pure land and the “Origin of Life and Death” was no easy thing to forge!
…
In the real world, within the Jade Void Palace of Kunlun Mountain.
As his divided consciousness dissipated, Meng Qi, seated cross-legged on a cloud-like bed, suddenly opened his eyes, dispelling the room’s darkness and restoring it to clarity.
At the same time, he extended both hands, forming a series of profound seals. The embryonic multiverse within him stirred, gradually dividing into yin and yang, manifesting as black and white light in his palms.
The light condensed, twisting and stretching with the seals into an ancient black-and-white mirror—the embodiment of the “Yin-Yang Seal” from the Primordial Nine Seals!
After tempering the Yellow Spring skeleton in the “Origin of Life and Death” and glimpsing the Dao of Life and Death, Meng Qi naturally sought to swiftly integrate his gains into his martial arts and divine abilities. The “Yin-Yang Seal,” encompassing concepts like life and death, hardness and softness, was exemplified by Chijingzi’s “Yin-Yang Mirror,” which could kill with one side and revive with the other.
The black-and-white mirror was not yet stable. As Meng Qi’s seals shifted, sending out streaks of black and white light, its front and back surfaces writhed, conjuring one eerie symbol after another, gradually coalescing into faint Dao patterns.
These Dao patterns descended one by one, etching themselves onto the mirror as inscriptions, deepening its mystique.
Finally, Meng Qi clapped his hands together, merging all the black-and-white light with the mirror!
As his hands parted, the mirror flew out, neither solid nor ethereal. One side was pure white, radiant with the “essence of life,” while the other was pitch black, cold and silent, reflecting the “marrow of death.” It had already diverged from Chijingzi’s “Yin-Yang Mirror,” though it was slightly less profound.
The mirror dissipated, returning to his dharma body. Meng Qi’s expression relaxed, brimming with quiet satisfaction.
Leaving the “Wheel of Life and Death” in the “Origin of Life and Death” was his final masterstroke—if Emperor Zhenwu fully awakened, he would have no need for it, being on the verge of the Shore. On one hand, the wheel could record its surroundings, allowing Meng Qi to glimpse Zhenwu’s secrets upon retrieving it. On the other, events within the origin were beyond even Shore-level figures’ direct observation, making it the perfect hiding place to evade Emperor Fengdu’s notice. The wheel could serve as a hidden trump card, ready to turn the tide if the emperor proved hostile.
With the enigmatic Zhenwu, capable of striking with world-shaking force, and the “Wheel of Life and Death” hidden within the abstract essence of the origin, Meng Qi’s chances against Emperor Fengdu had improved. No matter how strong the emperor was, could he surpass Zhenwu’s might? Could he guard against the wheel’s limited “origin resonance”?
Of course, Emperor Fengdu’s power was vast and unfathomable. Meng Qi dared not underestimate him, only striving to prepare as best he could.
Moreover, leaving the wheel in the origin established an indelible marker for his true self, eliminating the need to invert the Yellow Spring to reopen the origin. With sufficient power and the “Cause of All Effects,” he could directly summon the vortex entrance. By the time Little Sang emerged from seclusion, having refined her innate virtue and approached the Legendary realm, no place would be safer for her self-verification than the “Origin of Life and Death,” shielded from the Golden Emperor’s gaze.
Why forge a treasure wheel instead of a sword to pair with the Peerless Heavenly Blade? First, materials for divine artifacts possessed inherent spirituality, favoring certain forms. The Dao truths they embodied were similarly constrained—like cauldrons, rulers, mirrors, and bells, each carried distinct connotations. Forcing an unnatural form required mastery beyond Meng Qi’s current reach.
Second, the “Wheel of Life and Death” was not primarily for his own combat. Beyond countering Emperor Fengdu, it was chiefly intended for his master, Xuanbei!
Without the Yellow Spring’s connection or the Dao charm of life and death, Xuanbei’s Ksitigarbha Pure Land could never suddenly expand into the Netherworld, offering Meng Qi a glimpse of the Shore. Thus, hiding the wheel in the origin was also a ploy to secretly pass it to his master when the time came.
As a Buddhist arhat who had attained the Ksitigarbha golden body, a wheel suited Xuanbei far better than a sword, aligning with his compassion and vow to empty the hells.
With these thoughts briefly surfacing, Meng Qi buried them deep in his heart, feigning forgetfulness to avoid leaving traces.
By now, He Mu and Fang Huaying had returned to the mountain, each having made progress. Just as Meng Qi prepared to summon them for guidance, he sensed a disturbance and looked skyward through the roof.
An anomaly had appeared—a phantom of the celestial realm, its nine layers distinct, emanating from the direction of the Sword Washing Pavilion.
“Senior Su has finally taken this step,” Meng Qi murmured with joy.
Once expected to achieve self-verification before him, Su Wuming had even fallen behind the “Big Brother” of jokes.
After the “Celestial Realm Manifestation,” stars glittered densely across the night sky, only to be pierced by a brilliant, icy swordlight from the west, weaving them into a resplendent Milky Way. The river’s “waves” shimmered with a dreamlike quality, reminiscent of the flowing River of Time.
“The phenomenon of ‘Sword Piercing the Milky Way’… Senior Su has gained insight not only into the Haotian Mirror but also the Donghuang Bell…” Meng Qi pondered silently. Once the extravagant spectacle of the “Starlight Sea” faded, he summoned He Mu and Fang Huaying.
Facing his reverent disciples, Meng Qi smiled faintly. “He Mu, I’ve penned a congratulatory letter. Deliver it to the Sword Washing Pavilion on my behalf, honoring Senior Su’s self-verification.”
As he spoke, purple qi swirled between his fingers, coalescing into a magnificent scroll adorned with divine beasts and immortal birds.
“Your disciple obeys,” He Mu replied, accepting the letter with curiosity but unable to discern its secrets.
Turning to Fang Huaying, Meng Qi nodded. “Yu Banshan and Qi Jinxiu have proven themselves worthy of the Jade Void’s name during their travels. Recall them to formally join our sect.”
With the likes of Guangcheng and Manjushri still alive, his whimsical plan to appoint twelve disciples after the Jade Void’s Twelve Golden Immortals would have to remain buried…
Watching He Mu and Fang Huaying depart, Meng Qi tapped his left hand with his right index finger, pondering his next steps in cultivation.
Projecting across myriad universes until they could self-generate was a slow, meticulous process with no shortcuts. Time was not on his side, especially with Emperor Fengdu’s looming threat…
The ancient well in the Jade Void Palace led to a peculiar universe holding Shore-level secrets. Perhaps it could aid him—so long as he avoided provoking the self-aware “Primordial Projection” within…
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