Primordial Era: I am a treasure trove, full of magical treasures.

Hongjun stood in that chaotic void, looking down at his hands. They were long and powerful hands, with distinct knuckles, and faint golden veins visible beneath the skin—real, vibrant hands that belonged to him.

He flexed his fingers, savoring the long-lost touch of his physical body. The cool air flowing through his fingers, the tingling sensation of the law patterns trembling gently on his skin, even the slight tingling sensation of blood circulation in his fingertips—these sensations, so commonplace for ordinary beings, were something he hadn't experienced in countless eons.

"I... am free."

Hongjun's voice was somewhat hoarse, carrying a complex emotion that even he himself could hardly describe. He raised his head, his gaze sweeping over this core of the Heavenly Dao, which he had once controlled for countless eons, a hint of disorientation flashing in his eyes. Once, he was the ruler of this space, the spokesperson for the Primordial Heavenly Dao, the supreme Dao Ancestor. But now, he stood here as an ordinary eighth-level Saint, feeling the subtle yet palpable rejection from this space—he was no longer a part of the Heavenly Dao.

"How are you feeling?" Xuanbao crossed her arms and looked at him with a smile.

Hongjun was silent for a moment, then slowly spoke: "It's strange. It's like unloading a heavy burden, or like losing a part of yourself."

"You'll get used to it." Xuanbao shrugged. "Freedom always comes at a price. Besides, all you lose is a pair of shackles, but you gain infinite possibilities—it's a good deal."

Hongjun looked at him, a bitter smile appearing on his lips: "You're good at comforting people, but don't do it next time."

"That's right, I'm a professional." Xuanbao chuckled, then changed the subject, "But Grandmaster, there's something I need to tell you—"

Before he finished speaking, a gray figure appeared silently beside them. The figure wore a simple gray robe and had a face that resembled Xuan Bao by seven or eight points, but their temperaments were completely different—Xuan Bao gave off an air of laziness mixed with sharpness, while this figure was like a bottomless ancient well, calm, profound, and without a trace of emotional fluctuation.

A clone of the Heavenly Dao.

Hongjun's pupils contracted slightly. He could sense that the aura emanating from the figure before him was even stronger than his own at his peak—the Ninth Heaven, and a completely stable one at that, integrated with the Primordial Heavenly Dao. What alarmed him even more was that he could feel the entire operation of the Primordial Heavenly Dao resonating with the figure's breath, as if the figure itself were the embodiment of the Heavenly Dao.

"Grandmaster, let me introduce you—this is my Heavenly Dao Avatar." Xuanbao patted the Heavenly Dao Avatar's shoulder, his tone as relaxed as if introducing an old friend, "The current de facto controller of the Primordial Heavenly Dao."

Hongjun was silent for a moment, then slowly said, "I know."

Of course he knew. In the countless eons he had been entangled with the lingering remnant of that demonic god, he could clearly feel a force gradually eroding his control over the Heavenly Dao. That force was initially very weak, so weak that he barely noticed it; but its growth rate was astonishing, so fast that by the time he realized something was wrong, it was already too late to reverse the situation.

And the owner of that power was standing right in front of him.

"You planned this all along, didn't you?" Hongjun looked at Xuanbao, his voice carrying a complex meaning. "From the first moment I noticed you, you were laying the groundwork."

"It wasn't that early, was it?" Xuanbao scratched his head, a rare hint of embarrassment on his face. "It was only when I began to control the Primordial Heavenly Dao that I had this idea. After all—you, sir, have been entangled with that remnant of the demon god for so long, who knows when things might go wrong? I had to leave myself a way out."

Hongjun fell silent. He had to admit that Xuanbao was right. If Xuanbao hadn't taken over the Heavenly Dao at the crucial moment, the Primordial World would probably have already fallen apart in his struggle against the lingering resentment of the Demon God. From this perspective, Xuanbao not only hadn't wronged him, but was actually his savior.

But reason is reason, and emotion is emotion. No one would feel good if they were stripped of their power to control countless eras.

"So be it." Hongjun sighed deeply, a hint of relief flashing in his eyes. "The control of the Heavenly Dao was never mine to begin with. Now, handing it over to someone more suitable is a fair assessment of the ability to take it."

He raised his hand, and a purple-gold light shone from between his brows. The light grew brighter and brighter, eventually transforming into a fist-sized purple-gold rune that slowly floated out from between his brows. Countless profound patterns flowed across the surface of the rune, emanating a vast and majestic aura—it was the mark of his authority, accumulated over countless eons of control over the Heavenly Dao, a symbol of the ruler of the primordial Heavenly Dao.

The purplish-gold rune floated in the void, trembling slightly, as if emitting a silent lament. Hongjun looked at the rune, a complex expression flashing in his eyes—a mixture of reluctance, relief, and a faint melancholy. But he did not hesitate, and with a gentle push, the rune slowly floated towards his Heavenly Dao avatar.

The Heavenly Dao avatar didn't stand on ceremony, reaching out to catch the rune. The purplish-gold light flowed in his palm for a moment, then melted into his body. His aura surged dramatically at that moment—his cultivation, already at the ninth level of the Heavenly Realm, became even more profound and vast after merging with Hongjun's authority mark. The entire operation of the Primordial Heavenly Dao seemed to become smoother and more harmonious at this moment, as if it had finally found its true core.

Hongjun watched this scene, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but in the end, it only turned into a soft sigh.

Xuanbao walked to his side and patted him on the shoulder: "Old Hong, don't be sad. Although you've lost control of the Heavenly Dao, you've gained a perfect physical body and freedom. And—"

Xuanbao paused, then grinned: "You're not without things to do either. The primordial world is so vast, there are always places where a senior like you is needed. For example, giving some pointers to those newly promoted saints, or helping me maintain order or something."

Hongjun: ...

Okay, okay, how do you want to play this game? Before you were given control of the Heavenly Dao, you called me Grandmaster, but now that you've been given control, you call me Old Hong, right?

Hongjun looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then suddenly laughed, "I can't beat you, so everything you said is right."

However, just as Hongjun had begun planning his wonderful retirement life...

Xuanbao suddenly changed the subject, his tone becoming earnest: "However, Lao Hong, there's something I'm not sure if I should say."

Hongjun raised an eyebrow slightly: "You speak."

"Look, you're the Dao Ancestor, right?" Xuanbao counted on his fingers. "You're the universally acknowledged Dao Ancestor of the primordial world, the source of all Daos, and the supreme being in the hearts of countless cultivators. It would be such a waste if you retired with all your skills and knowledge!"

Hongjun frowned: "What exactly are you trying to say?"

……

Xuanbao cleared his throat and said seriously, "What I mean is—you can't just call yourself Dao Ancestor for nothing, can you? The Primordial World is in dire need of rebuilding. Although the thirty-six Saints are a considerable number, most of them have only recently broken through and their understanding of the laws is still at a relatively shallow level. If you, venerable one, could open an altar to preach and guide those newly promoted Saints, or even give some pointers to those Quasi-Saint peak cultivators, it would be an immeasurable boost to the overall strength of the Primordial World."

Hongjun fell silent. He had to admit that Xuanbao was right. Although he had lost control of the Heavenly Dao, the cultivation experience and insights into the laws he had accumulated over countless eons would not disappear. If this experience could be passed down, it would indeed be a valuable asset for future generations of cultivators in the prehistoric world.

But he was still somewhat unwilling. He had finally been relieved of his burdens, but hadn't even had a few days of peace and quiet.

"Can I refuse?" Hongjun asked tentatively.

"Of course." Xuanbao shrugged, smiling innocently. "If you want to retire, I can't exactly drag you off to preach, can I? But—"

Hongjun was about to say "but what?" when he saw Xuanbao take something out of his pocket.

It was a rune the size of a fist, its entire surface a chaotic color, with countless profound patterns flowing across its surface. Each of those patterns contained the ultimate mystery of a law, and the three thousand patterns intertwined to form a power that transcended chaos. The moment the rune appeared, the entire core space of the Heavenly Dao seemed to freeze for a moment—the previously chaotic flow of laws, as if smoothed out by an invisible hand, became docile and orderly.

Hongjun's pupils suddenly contracted, his voice trembling with disbelief: "This is... the aura of Pangu?!"

"That's right." Xuanbao held the rune in his palm, his tone as relaxed as if he were showing off a newly acquired trinket. "Insights into the laws of power left behind by Pangu."

Hongjun's gaze was fixed on the rune, unable to look away. He could sense that the rune contained a power of law he had never encountered before.

The Law of Force.

That was the fundamental reason why Pangu was able to slay countless chaotic demons and gods and create the entire primordial world all by himself. It was a realm that even he, who controlled the fragments of the Creation Jade Disc and comprehended countless laws, had never touched.

"You...you want to use this to tempt me?" Hongjun's voice was a little hoarse. He struggled to look away from the rune and look at Xuanbao.

Xuanbao remained silent, simply playing with the object.

Hongjun's gaze remained fixed on the chaotic-colored rune for the duration of an incense stick burning.

His eyes held struggle, longing, and hesitation, and finally—all these complex emotions coalesced into a long sigh.

"You win."

Hongjun reached out, but instead of taking the rune, he gently pushed it back in front of Xuanbao: "A thousand years of comprehension is not enough. I need three thousand years."

Xuanbao raised an eyebrow: "Three thousand years? Old Hong, you've got quite the appetite."

"Pangu's Law of Power, that is the Law of Power." Hongjun's gaze was calm and profound. "In a thousand years, I wouldn't even be able to touch the threshold. In three thousand years, regardless of whether I have comprehended it or not, I will obediently preach the Dao."

Xuanbao fell silent.

He had to admit that Hongjun's words had moved him. Although there were many saints in the prehistoric world, apart from the Three Pure Ones, Nuwa, Houtu, and himself, the other saints' understanding of the laws was still at a relatively shallow level. Putting aside other matters, Hongjun could probably still impart his teachings, but in the future, he could continuously cultivate high-end combat power for the prehistoric world. This deal was indeed worthwhile.

"make a deal."

When Xuanbao threw the Pangu rune towards Hongjun, a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

Hongjun received the rune with both hands, his expression solemn as if he had found a priceless treasure. He could feel the vast and breathtaking fluctuations of the law within the rune—the law of power, the very foundation that enabled Pangu to single-handedly slay countless chaotic demons and gods and create the entire primordial world. He took a deep breath, carefully placed the rune between his eyebrows, and immersed his divine sense into it.

Then, he froze.

One second, two seconds, three seconds...

Hongjun opened his eyes, his expression changing from solemn to confused, then to astonished, and finally to a complex, subtle look, as if he had swallowed a fly.

"This rune... requires the Three Thousand Laws as a foundation to comprehend?" Hongjun's voice was somewhat hoarse.

"That's right." Xuanbao nodded, saying matter-of-factly, "The Law of Power is the catalyst for harmonizing the Three Thousand Laws. If you don't understand the Three Thousand Laws, how can you comprehend the Law of Power?"

Hongjun remained silent.

"You knew all along?" Hongjun's voice trembled slightly.

"Know what?" Xuanbao blinked, her face innocent.

"I know I can't understand it!"

"Oh dear, how can you say you can't comprehend it?" Xuanbao waved his hand and said with a smile, "With three thousand years, you can start by learning the basics of the Three Thousand Laws. With your aptitude, learning the introductory level of the Three Thousand Laws in three thousand years should... probably... maybe... possibly?"

Hongjun: "..."

He suddenly had a strong urge to smash the rune back into Xuanbao's face. But reason told him that the rune was indeed genuine, and the Law of Power was indeed a supreme legacy left by Pangu. However, to comprehend it, one needed to first master the Three Thousand Laws—and cultivating the Three Thousand Laws, let alone three thousand years, even thirty thousand or three hundred thousand years, might not be enough to even begin.

"You're trying to get something for nothing," Hongjun said through gritted teeth.

"How can you call it getting something for nothing?" Xuanbao spread his hands, looking completely innocent. "I gave you all my insights into Pangu's laws of power. If you can't comprehend them, that's your own problem, not my fault."

Hongjun took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He had lived through countless eons and witnessed countless storms, never imagining that one day he would be manipulated in this way by a junior. But the other party's offer was genuine; even knowing it was a trap, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and jump in.

"...Three thousand years from now, I will open the altar to preach on time." Hongjun put away the runes and said expressionlessly, "But during these three thousand years, you are not allowed to disturb my enlightenment."

"No problem," Xuanbao readily agreed. "Take your time to comprehend it, there's no rush."

Hongjun gave him a deep look, then turned and left. His back looked somewhat desolate, yet stubborn—like an old man who knew he had been deceived but still refused to admit defeat, determined to prove that he could squeeze something out of that rune.

Xuanbao watched his departing figure, the smile on his lips slowly fading, replaced by a profound calm.