Clan Cultivation: Starting from Foundation Establishment on Mount Luoxia

Mid-stage Golden Core. Late-stage Golden Core. Peak Golden Core.

His breath stopped, and this world could no longer contain him.

The ceiling of the primary plane trembled violently, and cracks spread from his body, from the depths of the ruins to the ground, and from the ground to the void.

Heaven is screaming with excitement, like someone who has been locked up for too long finally seeing the door.

The seal has shattered.

The thin film laid out by the old farmer in the vegetable garden was torn apart like paper, without even making a sound.

The cliff at the entrance to the ruins collapsed, the entire Cangwu Mountain range trembled, rocks tumbled down, and waterfalls flowed backward.

The people of Yongning City looked up at the sky and saw the clouds part, golden light pour down from the cracks, and a huge figure rise from the ground.

The figure was too big.

He sat cross-legged in the void, his crimson-gold robe unfurled like a burning cloud.

His face was blurry, but his golden pupils shone brightly, like two suns fallen to earth.

His left hand held the bead, which was already broken, the fragments turning into streams of light that swirled around his fingers.

His right hand was clenched loosely, as if he were holding something unseen.

Dharma form.

The Dharma form that can only be formed by the Dao embryo.

He was merely a newly awakened Golden Core cultivator at the peak of his cultivation.

The Heavenly Dao roared. The plane trembled. The clouds surged into a vortex, and a beam of white light descended from the center of the vortex—the Heavenly Dao of this world bowed to him, welcoming his return.

The instantaneous advancement to a higher plane felt like being lifted up by someone.

The ceiling of the primary plane was shattered, and the web of laws from the intermediate plane began to weave around him.

There were no obstacles, no setbacks, just as this world was always meant to be, only it had been waiting for too long.

Waiting for someone to come back.

In the void, dozens of figures were drawn by an irresistible force.

They struggled, they resisted, they tried to escape into the depths of the void—but the force was too great, so great that all their efforts were like a mantis trying to stop a chariot.

In the blink of an eye, everyone was held in the palm of that golden Dharma hand.

Iron Bones was struggling, and the six fourth-order reincarnators were screaming.

The golden-haired woman from the Starry Sky Gods Kingdom was deathly pale, and the starlight around her dimmed one by one like candles blown out by the wind.

The man and woman in Dragon Tiger Paradise desperately channeled their power, and the tiger and dragon tattooed on their bodies almost burst out of their skin, but they couldn't even budge the Dharma Image's fingers.

An old farmer in the vegetable garden squatted in the middle of the crowd. His pipe fell to the ground, but he didn't pick it up. Instead, he looked up at the statue, its cloudy eyes reflecting golden light.

The former sect leader of the Yuan Yang Sword Sect knelt at the very front of everyone. His knee slammed into the palm of the Dharma Image, the bones cracking, but he felt no pain.

He looked up at the blurry face, at those golden eyes, his lips trembling, and uttered a sentence he himself didn't believe:

"This... is impossible."

The Dharma Image spoke. Its voice was like thunder falling from the sky, magma gushing from the ground, and mountains pressing in from all directions:

"Nothing is impossible."

Those golden pupils lowered slightly, landing on the old sect leader:

"It's just because you're stupid and timid. You were fooled by these outsiders."

The old sect leader was shaken.

Faxiang's voice continued, unhurried and unhurried, as if he were talking about something perfectly ordinary:

"Don't you think about it yourself? How could a low-level plane possibly accommodate someone like you, a half-Golden Core cultivator who has only condensed golden essence?"

Old Zong opened his mouth, but couldn't speak.

"Rank. Once you reach the required rank, the Heavenly Dao will naturally accept you. Whether it's a primary or intermediate plane, it's merely the outer garment of the Heavenly Dao. If the garment is torn, it can be mended; once you reach the required rank, the Heavenly Dao will naturally help you fill it out. You don't need to do anything; just break through normally."

Faxiang paused, his voice suddenly becoming very soft, as if he were speaking to himself:

"It's not like Heaven isn't helping you."

In the void, the old sect leader knelt there, tears streaming down his face.

Centuries of confusion, centuries of repression, centuries of being "half-step to the Golden Elixir" and not daring to take that step—it turns out it was simply because he believed the wrong person and listened to the wrong words.

Faxiang stopped looking at him.

Those golden pupils swept over the people in his palm, over the void, and over this newly advanced world.

His gaze finally settled on one person—Li Xiaoyao.

Everyone else was kneeling in the palm of the Buddha's hand, but he was still standing.

It wasn't that he refused to kneel, but that the Dharma Master wouldn't make him kneel.

The two people looked at each other across the void.

A tall and imposing figure wearing a crimson-gold robe, with a blurred face, except for a pair of strikingly bright golden pupils.

A man dressed in an ordinary Taoist robe, slender in build, with a calm face and an ancient-looking token hanging from his waist.

"You didn't kneel." Zhu looked at him.

"You didn't make me kneel." Li Xiaoyao smiled.

Zhu was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. The smile was indistinct in the blurry face, but Li Xiaoyao knew he was laughing.

"Aren't you afraid of me?"

"I'm afraid." Li Xiaoyao shook his head. "But you won't kill me."

Why?

"Because you owe me a favor."

Zhu paused for a moment, then burst into laughter. The laughter echoed in the void, causing those within the Dharma Image's palm to tremble.

"Okay. I owe you a favor."

He raised his hand, and the fingers of the Dharma Image loosened slightly. The people in his palm rolled out like spilled beans and fell into the void.

No one ran. No one dared to run.

Just then, beams of light appeared in the void outside.

From the direction of the Paradise of Reincarnation, a silver-white pillar of light descended from the sky, and a figure in silver armor emerged from the pillar, his aura as deep as the sea—a late-stage Golden Core cultivator.

In the direction of the Starry Sky Kingdom of Gods, a meteor streaked across the void with a long trail of flame. Standing on the meteor was a silver-haired woman, holding a scepter, surrounded by starlight—a mid-stage Golden Core cultivator.

From the direction of Dragon Tiger Paradise, a blue tiger came riding on the clouds, with a bare-chested man sitting on its back and carrying a bronze giant axe on his shoulder—a mid-stage Golden Core cultivator.

There was nothing in the direction of the vegetable garden. The old farmer squatted in the void, his pipe somehow returned to him, and he puffed on it as if nothing had happened.

There was another ray of light.

The light was golden, almost white, shooting from the deepest part of the void like an arrow, precisely striking the image before it.

As the light faded, a figure wearing a blue Taoist robe stood with his hands behind his back, his face thin and his black hair casually tied back.

True Lord Minghuang.

He glanced at the golden Dharma image, then at Li Xiaoyao standing in the palm of the Dharma image, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

"Young friend Shangyuan, you've worked hard."

Li Xiaoyao was taken aback for a moment, then bowed deeply: "True Lord."

True Monarch Minghuang waved his hand and turned to look at the candle. The two people standing at the end of the path of cultivation looked at each other across the void.

"Fellow Daoist, it's been thousands of years."

Fa Xiang lowered his head, and the image of Minghuang Zhenjun was reflected in his golden pupils.

"A thousand years have passed. You haven't changed at all."

"You too," Minghuang Zhenjun laughed, "still with such a grand entrance."

Faxiang also laughed. The laughter echoed in the void, startling the newly arrived Golden Core cultivators who looked at each other in bewilderment.

Zhu withdrew his gaze and looked at the figures rushing from all directions in the void. And those who were hiding deeper, not daring to show themselves.

"A lot of people came."

"They've all come to see you." True Monarch Minghuang nodded.

Zhu shook his head, raised his hand, and the golden Dharma image slowly stood up with his movement.

"Let them see."

He looked down at Li Xiaoyao standing in his palm.

"You should go back now."

Li Xiaoyao looked up at him, remained silent for a moment, and then asked a question he shouldn't have:

Where are you going next?

Zhu did not answer. He released his grip and gently pushed Li Xiaoyao away.

"Let's go. Next time we meet, I'll treat you to a drink."

Li Xiaoyao was lifted by a gentle force and landed next to Minghuang Zhenjun.

He looked back and saw that the golden Dharma image was slowly shrinking, its crimson-gold robe fluttering in the void, and its golden pupils like two falling suns.

The Dharma form disappeared, and the candle's figure reappeared in the void.

He was no longer the pale-faced young man in the black cloak.

He was tall and robust, wearing a crimson-gold robe with a white jade belt around his waist and dark gold trim around his collar.

His face was still young, but his brows bore the marks of a thousand years of vicissitudes.

He stood in the void, hands behind his back, gazing at this newly advanced world, and suddenly spoke:

"Returning after a thousand years, my lapel is covered in frost; the old mountains remain, and the white clouds are deep. I searched the vast void in vain, only to find that today is my former self."

In the void, no one spoke.

The Golden Core cultivators who had rushed from all directions watched him in silence, as did True Monarch Minghuang and the old farmer. The old sect leader knelt in the void, tears streaming down his face as he looked at him.

Standing beside True Monarch Minghuang, Li Xiaoyao looked at the crimson-gold figure and suddenly remembered the word on the bead.

Return.

He's back. After waiting for thousands of years, he's finally back.