Primordial Era: Cultivation level equals the sum of the Jie Sect's total; the Three Pure Ones a

Bai Shou murmured the name.

"Xuan Du..."

He had never met Xuandu.

But he had heard countless legends about Xuandu.

He spent a century proving his Dao, mending the heavens and supporting the sky, annihilating Nuwa, and forcing the Four Sages to retreat.

He took the three ancestors of the human race as his disciples, erected the Martial Arts Heavenly Stele, and passed on the Primordial Chaos Dao.

The Vice Leader of the Jie Sect, a Primordial Golden Immortal.

Who is that person?

What a magnificent sight that was!

That was a height he could never reach, even if he remained steadfast in vain.

It's not that he didn't try hard enough.

His background is too poor.

It's because his aptitude is too poor.

His master... didn't want to teach him at all.

Bai Shou slowly closed his eyes.

A faint hint of bitterness flickered deep within those calm eyes.

Tens of thousands of yuan.

Paying to become an apprentice costs tens of thousands of yuan.

He never felt the care of his master.

Only indifference.

It's all just perfunctory.

Only the icy, bone-chilling elixir was poured over one's head.

Does he hate it?

I don't hate.

Because he has no right to hate.

He is the master's disciple.

It was his master who gave him cultivation.

It was his master who gave him the power.

It was his master who enabled him to rise from a rogue cultivator to a powerful being at the peak of the Quasi-Saint realm.

He should be grateful.

We should have reverence for them.

We should be completely devoted to them.

But his heart could never get close to that indifferent old man.

Because that old man never treated him as a disciple.

They only treated him as a tool.

Tools for maintaining appearances.

Bai Shou opened his eyes.

The bitterness in those eyes had dissipated.

Only calm remained.

A kind of calm that comes from seeing through the ways of the world.

"Xuan Du has emerged from seclusion."

He muttered to himself:

"We went to Mount Sumeru."

"Go find Jieyin and Zhunti."

"Who will be next?"

"Kunlun Mountains?"

"Or... Shouyang Mountain?"

he does not know.

But deep down, he harbored a faint sense of anticipation.

I look forward to that figure in green stepping onto Shouyang Mountain.

I look forward to seeing that figure in green standing in front of the Eight Views Palace.

I eagerly await the figure in green robes confronting my master.

Then......

He can stay here for a while and see it for himself.

Let's see who this legendary Xuan Du really is.

Let's see what kind of demeanor that the Great Luo of Primordial Chaos who attained enlightenment a century ago truly possessed.

Let's see what kind of methods that figure in green robes, whom the master hates to the bone but can't do anything about, has.

A slow smile crept onto Bai Shou's lips.

The smile was faint, yet it carried a hint of something indescribable.

It's not that I'm hoping my master will be defeated.

It's not gloating.

only......

would like to see.

Look at this vast wilderness, who truly reigns supreme?

Let's see who truly holds the reins of power in this world.

Look at this fate, who can truly escape it?

Bai Shou closed his eyes.

His aura gradually subsided.

That fragile foundation, that chaotic aura, that uncontrollable power.

It remains the same as before.

But he doesn't care.

Because he knew that this was all there was to his life.

Peak Quasi-Saint.

That is the end.

Further ahead lies the sage.

But a sage needs the primordial purple energy.

It requires the approval of Heaven.

It requires good karma and good fortune.

He did not.

There was nothing there.

He only has a master.

Only that indifferent old man.

Only the cold elixir was poured over his head.

Bai Shou took a deep breath, suppressing the surging thoughts in his mind.

Meditation.

Spiritual practice.

Regardless, it's good to be alive.

As long as you are alive, there is hope.

As long as you live, you can wait for that day.

When that figure in green stepped onto Shouyang Mountain.

When the legendary Xuandu stood before him.

When he asked it himself:

"Fellow Daoist Xuandu, may I... join the Jie Sect?"

After the sound faded, the cave fell into a deathly silence.

Bai Shou closed his eyes and said nothing more.

Only the faint sound of breathing echoed within the simple cave.

The summit of Shouyang Mountain.

Inside the Eight Views Palace.

Lao Tzu stood with his hands behind his back before the palace gate, his gaze piercing through the void and falling towards Mount Sumeru.

That aura has vanished.

Xuan Du is gone.

They left Mount Sumeru.

Where did they go?

he does not know.

But he knew in his heart that Xuandu would definitely make a big move after leaving the pass.

That person never did anything futile.

Every step, every game, every piece.

All of them are interconnected.

Each step progresses in turn.

Everything was part of the plan.

His first trip to Mount Sumeru must have had a profound meaning.

......

Zixiao Palace

The palace gates were tightly shut.

Inside the palace, chaotic energy flowed slowly, like billions of gray dragons coiling in the void, surging silently.

The gray figure stood with his hands behind his back in the depths of chaos, his back to the palace gate and to the endless void.

Hongjun, the Dao Ancestor.

He slightly raised his eyes.

A faint ripple flickered in the depths of those eyes that had been indifferent for countless years.

The fluctuation was very faint, so faint that it was almost imperceptible.

But if someone were nearby, they would have seen the astonishment in his eyes.

It was a shock that had been suppressed to the extreme.

He sensed it.

Above Mount Sumeru, that fleeting aura.

Xuandu.

The Primordial Golden Immortal.

The Seventh Heaven.

Hongjun's pupils contracted slightly.

The Seventh Heaven.

Tens of thousands of yuan before the meeting, when Xuandu left the prehistoric world, he was only in the third heaven.

He thought that Xuandu was in seclusion on Jin'ao Island.

He thought that Xuandu was merely attempting to break through to the fourth level of the Heavenly Realm.

He thought that he was a genius, had an extraordinary background, and possessed the Chaos Pearl.

With tens of thousands of yuan, breaking through from the third to the fourth level is already the limit.

After all, the path of Hunyuan becomes increasingly difficult as one progresses.

Every breakthrough in a minor realm requires endless origin, endless accumulation, and endless opportunities.

The Chaos Demon God, Yang Mei Daoist, took countless eons to ascend from the Third Heaven to the Seventh Heaven.

Xuan Du...

On what grounds?

Hongjun's gaze narrowed slightly.

He recalled the aura he had just encountered.

The Seventh Heaven.

It is clearly the seventh heaven.

Moreover, its foundation is solid, its aura is profound, and there is not a trace of superficiality.

That wasn't a forced increase in cultivation level.

It's not a realm built up from elixirs.

It is not a castle in the air where the origin of the Heavenly Dao is bestowed.

It's a foundation built solidly, through every punch and kick.

It is the foundation accumulated from one era to the next.

It is the purest and most solid of the seven heavens of the Primordial Chaos Dao.

Hongjun's expression remained unchanged.

But deep within those indifferent eyes, the trace of astonishment had turned into a gloomy expression.

The Seventh Heaven.

Xuandu has reached the seventh heaven.

It was two levels higher than he had expected.

It happened much faster than he had anticipated.

More than he expected...

More threatening.

What surprised him was not just the level of cultivation.

There was still a breath.

Xuan Du's aura has vanished.

He disappeared the moment he stepped onto Mount Sumeru.

It's not about concealing or hiding; it's about complete disappearance.

It was as if that figure in green had never existed in the primordial world.

It was as if that primordial power had never been within his perception.

It was as if his cultivation at the seventh level was nothing but an illusion.

But he knew it wasn't an illusion.

Because of that aura, though it only lasted for a moment, he could sense it clearly.

Hunyuan Daluo.

The Seventh Heaven.

There can be no mistake.

Hongjun slowly closed his eyes.

Divine consciousness surged forth like a tide, instantly enveloping the vast wilderness spanning billions of miles.

Inch by inch.

Foot by foot.

One zhang at a time.

He searched carefully.

Mount Sumeru.

Kunlun Mountain.

Shouyang Mountain.

Jin'ao Island in the East China Sea.

Underworld.

A sea of ​​blood.

Ruins of Buzhou Mountain.

Every corner, every inch of emptiness, every crack.

He spared none of them.

But I couldn't find anything.

Only the Jie Sect's fortune shines like a golden sea.

Only the Chaos Bell hangs in the pivot, its body shimmering with light.

Only that figure in green seemed to have never existed.

Hongjun opened his eyes.

A light shone in those eyes.

Concealing one's presence.

Even he, a half-step Heavenly Dao cultivator, couldn't sense it at all.

It cannot be achieved by relying solely on the luck of the Jie Sect.

It cannot be done with the Chaos Bell alone.

Xuan Du couldn't have done it with his own cultivation alone.

unless......