In the courtyard of the Divine Emperor’s residence where Chen Jiu lived, Dongbo Xueying and Chen Jiu sat down to enjoy fine wine and a few small dishes.
“Truly unexpected that the Divine Emperor would deign to sit and drink with me,” Chen Jiu said with a laugh.
“Still calling me ‘Divine Emperor’?” Dongbo Xueying frowned.
“Hahaha, Dongbo,” Chen Jiu chuckled. “Back when we went to the Xia Clan’s world, the Redstone Mountain, I remember thinking how remarkable it was that you, with just two centuries of cultivation, could already match me, the Sword Emperor, the Plum Mountain Master, and Lord You Lan. It would have been such a waste if someone of your talent had perished in that mountain. Your innate gifts far surpassed ours.”
“Looking back now, my judgment was spot on. Once the curse afflicting you was lifted, with the guidance of that mighty figure from Redstone Mountain, your progress was meteoric. You single-handedly turned the tide in your clan’s war, ascended to the Divine Realm, and even became a disciple of the Divine Emperor. In just a few million years, you surpassed even ordinary mighty figures and became one of the new Three Ancestors.”
Chen Jiu shook his head in amazement. “If someone had told me back then that the cursed kid would one day become one of the Three Ancestors, surpassing even many mighty figures, I would’ve called them insane. Haha…”
Dongbo Xueying listened with a smile.
Time had flown.
The events of the Xia Clan’s world still felt vivid—the final battle against the Great Demon God and the Witch God, where even his beloved wife Jing Qiu nearly perished. Thankfully, Patriarch Redflame had intervened. To this day, Dongbo Xueying remained deeply grateful to him.
“When I returned to the Divine Realm,” Chen Jiu continued, “I heard of your exploits. The gap between us grew ever wider, and I resolved that unless I became a World God, I would never dare face you again.”
“Why so extreme?” Dongbo Xueying shook his head.
Chen Jiu smiled.
“I know you had a beloved wife during your Transcendent days,” Dongbo Xueying said. “If you wish, I can ask a mighty figure to revive her.”
Chen Jiu froze, a flicker of pain deep in his eyes.
“No need,” he finally said.
“No need?” Dongbo Xueying was surprised. He had secretly investigated and aided Chen Jiu over the years and knew him well—Chen Jiu was a man consumed by love, even bordering on obsession after his wife’s death. That devotion had never waned.
Chen Jiu smiled faintly. “Once, I was desperate to revive her at any cost. But I was too weak to seek help from mighty figures, and back then, you were just an Inspector. So I never asked. Yet… as the years passed, time worked its magic. The long years changed me without my realizing it.”
“I no longer feel sorrow. I sense her beside me, living in my heart, forever with me,” Chen Jiu said softly. “I’m in no rush to revive her. Now that I’m a World God, I’ll advance further—to the Second Heaven, the Third Heaven… Perhaps one day, I’ll even transcend and revive her myself.”
“If I ever give up, I’ll ask for your help,” Chen Jiu added. “Just knowing you’re willing is more than enough.”
Dongbo Xueying nodded.
He understood.
Chen Jiu had a stubborn, almost fanatical side when it came to love. But in matters of the heart, he could only respect his friend’s wishes.
“Dongbo, do you know what became of the Sword Emperor and the Plum Mountain Master?” Chen Jiu asked.
“Time-Space Temple’s reincarnators—what do you think?” Dongbo Xueying sighed. “My ties with Time-Space Island are tenuous. If I intervened, it might only harm them.”
—
In a vast expanse of the cosmos…
“BOOM—”
A colossal formation spanning trillions of miles enveloped the starry void. Countless runes shimmered across the heavens, some erupting with terrifying flames, others swirling with icy currents. The opposing forces of fire and water clashed endlessly within the formation, their collisions birthing a strange, annihilative power—a wisp of nothingness so destructive that even a Paragon would be obliterated upon contact.
This was the “Void Dual-Polarity Formation,” a masterpiece of the Bloodblade Divine Emperor after glimpsing the threshold of a higher realm. Even the proud Yuanchu Master, upon learning of this creation, knew the Divine Emperor was nearing that final step.
At the formation’s heart, the crimson-robed Bloodblade Divine Emperor sat cross-legged, commanding the terrifying array. He feared no enemy assault—even multiple Paragons would perish within its might. Yet the formation had one flaw: it moved sluggishly, making evasion easy for foes.
But for one who hadn’t yet transcended, crafting such a formation was already a marvel.
“Though each sweep requires repositioning, their lair won’t escape detection,” the Divine Emperor mused coldly. “Given millions of years, we’ll scour every suspicious starfield. Our universe shall not tolerate these outsiders’ arrogance.”
Suddenly, beyond the formation’s vast reach, a figure appeared—a barefoot, golden-robed man with a shaven head. His mere presence exuded an aura of absolute dominion, as if the heavens themselves bowed before him. His eyes held the weight of eternity.
The Divine Emperor turned, startled. “Qingjun?”
“Master,” the golden-robed man greeted with a faint smile.
“You… what happened?” The Divine Emperor sensed the change in his eldest disciple. Once, Qingjun’s authority was subtle, natural. Now, it was overwhelming—an unyielding force that demanded submission.
And his appearance! Gone were the disheveled gray robes; now he stood resplendent in gold, his head shaved bare.
Most strikingly…
The Divine Emperor felt it—Qingjun’s aura had transformed entirely, vaster and more profound.
“You broke through?” the Divine Emperor asked.
Qingjun nodded. “By chance, a clone of mine entered another universe. Their lifeforms and cultivation methods were incompatible with ours, but after years of study, I gleaned enough to ascend to Paragon.”
“Excellent!” The Divine Emperor beamed. “I’m currently sweeping for the Ancestral Mother Cult’s lair. Their final retaliation looms, and your breakthrough strengthens our cosmos.”
“Command me as you will, Master,” Qingjun said.
—
Upon returning to the Divine Emperor’s residence, Dongbo Xueying shared his acquisition of seven supreme techniques with his wife, Jing Qiu. Though astonished, she selected one for herself—such arts could aid transcendence!
After assessing their children and disciples, Dongbo deemed them unready for such teachings.
Then, while discussing swordplay with Jing Qiu, Dongbo suddenly paled.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“News just arrived,” he said. “Senior Brother Qingjun has become a Paragon.”
Jing Qiu gasped.
Though Qingjun had rivaled Paragons as a World God, this breakthrough was monumental. Even Pang Yi had only achieved it by creating a new cultivation system. Now Qingjun had done the same—two Paragons in quick succession!
“We must offer congratulations soon,” Dongbo mused. “With his foundation, this was inevitable.”
“Gifts must be prepared,” Jing Qiu agreed.
When Pang Yi had ascended, he’d held a grand lecture. Attendees had brought tributes—standard for such occasions. A Paragon’s rise demanded even greater ceremony.
Soon, Qingjun issued invitations on a grand scale—every Paragon and mighty figure across the Divine Realm and Abyss received one. Dongbo marveled at the extravagance. “My senior brother was always so humble. Why the sudden ostentation?”
Nevertheless, he prepared gifts.
On the day of the feast, Dongbo, his wife, and their children set forth to pay homage.
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