Primordial Era: Starting by overwhelming the Sages, Hongjun was stunned!

Kong Xuan squatted down, placing his palms on the ground.

Beneath the ice surface, there were extremely subtle vibrations.

It wasn't an earthquake. Something was moving deep underground.

It was slow and heavy, like a huge beast turning over in hibernation.

Kong Xuan closed his eyes and probed the frozen soil with his divine sense.

Through ice, through rocks, through the earth's crust thousands of feet thick.

Then, he encountered that thing.

Hot. Extremely hot.

Deep underground, there is a scorching presence, like a piece of molten iron buried in the earth's core.

The heat was slowly moving southward.

The speed is not fast, but the direction is clear.

Kong Xuan withdrew his hand and opened his eyes.

He looked south. In the direction of the crack.

The thing was moving toward the crack.

Kong Xuan did not pursue the matter.

He stood up and stood with his hands behind his back on the frozen ground.

The wind swept past him, ruffling his dark robe and the withered flower on his lapel.

The gold threads along the edges of the withered flower have faded, but the petals still cling to the fabric, not yet fallen off.

Kong Xuan stared at the direction the heat was moving, remained silent for a moment, and then turned to face west.

He walked more slowly than he had come.

Each step left a shallow footprint on the frozen ground.

The footprints were not deep, but the edges were clear, as if they had been carved with a knife.

He walked for about a hundred miles before stopping.

There is a ravine ahead.

The ravine was not wide, only a few feet deep, but its bottom could not be seen.

The ice along the edge of the ravine was charred black, as if it had been burned by something.

Kong Xuan stood on the edge of the ravine, looking down.

From the depths of the ravine, faint steam rose, carrying the smell of sulfur.

He lifted his foot and stepped over the ditch.

Across from us stretched an even higher tundra.

Some things are scattered on the tundra.

Kong Xuan walked over and squatted down.

It's a piece of bone. About the size of a palm, with jagged edges.

The bone fragments had a thin layer of scorch marks on their surface, as if they had been scorched by high temperatures.

He picked up the bone fragment and examined it for a moment.

There are no patterns or engravings on the bone fragment.

But its lingering aura is of the same origin as the heat underground.

Kong Xuan put the bone fragment into his sleeve.

He continued westward.

The tundra gradually becomes rugged, with the ground rising up to form low stone hills.

Occasionally, a piece of broken wood can be seen among the rocky hills; it has long been carbonized and crumbles into powder at the slightest touch.

The wind picked up.

When Kong Xuan climbed over the seventh stone hill, he saw a cave.

The cave entrance was small, but the frozen soil around it was charred black and spread outwards for dozens of feet.

It was as if something was gushing out of the cave, burning everything around it.

Kong Xuan walked to the cave entrance and looked inside.

The cave is not deep, no more than two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters).

At the bottom of the cave, there was a charred area.

In the charred center, something was curled up.

Kong Xuan jumped into the cave and squatted down in front of the lump of something.

It's a claw.

The claws were small, no more than a foot long.

Five toes, with distinct joints.

Its claws were covered with a layer of charred, carbonized skin that would crumble at the slightest touch.

The bone beneath the skin was dark red, as if it had been burned through by high temperatures.

Kong Xuan did not touch that claw.

He just looked at it.

Its claws and toes curled slightly, as if it had grasped something before it died.

Kong Xuan looked in the direction of the claws and toes.

There is a scratch on the cave wall.

The scratches were deep, embedding several inches into the rock face.

At the end of the scratch, there was a small pit, as if something had been nailed in.

Kong Xuan raised his hand and probed the small pit with his fingertips.

At the bottom of the pit, there was a tiny object.

He picked it out and spread it in his palm.

It is a grain of sand.

The sand grains are dark gray with a very thin sheen on the surface, like glass that has been burned.

Kong Xuan stared at that grain of sand for a long time.

Then put it into your sleeve.

He stood up and jumped out of the cave.

The wind picked up. The sky grew darker.

The leaden-gray clouds were almost touching our heads, like a thick quilt pressing down on us.

Kong Xuan stood at the edge of the cave, gazing south.

The white light was still there, like a line hanging in the sky.

It is faintly visible.

He looked away and turned around.

Continue north.

The tundra stretched out beneath my feet, becoming increasingly flat and barren.

After walking for an unknown amount of time, a lake appeared ahead.

The lake was covered with a thick layer of ice, which was grayish-white, as if it were covered with a layer of dust.

Kong Xuan walked to the lakeside and touched the ice with the tip of his boot.

Something is glowing beneath the ice.

The faint light shone through the ice, like fireflies breathing in deep water.

Kong Xuan squatted down and placed his palms on the ice.

Beneath the ice, there is a skeleton.

The skeleton was small and curled up, as if it had died in its sleep.

Within the ribcage of the skeleton, a very faint light was slowly rotating.

The aura of that light was similar to that of the flower on the mountaintop.

Similar to the wind surging in from the other side of the crack.

Kong Xuan stared at the ball of light and remained silent for a moment.

Then he stood up and took a step back.

He didn't break the ice. He didn't take the light.

I just stood there, watching the faint light beneath the ice.

After a long while, he turned around.

Continue north.

The wind grew stronger, causing the black robe to billow like a flag.

It was completely dark. There was no starlight, no moonlight.

Only that white light, in the far distance of the sky, resembled a quietly burning line.

Kong Xuan walked for an unknown amount of time before a mountain ridge appeared ahead.

The ridge is not high, but it stretches across the tundra like an abandoned wall.

On the leeward side of the ridge, there is a depression.

In the depression, a blade of grass grows.

The grass is not tall, no more than half a foot.

The leaves are grayish-green with a thin layer of white frost on the edges.

On this frozen wasteland where everything else has withered, it is the only living green.

Kong Xuan squatted down in front of that blade of grass.

The blades of grass swayed gently in the wind, as if greeting him.

He reached out and gently touched the leaf with his fingertips.

The leaves are cool, but there is a very subtle warmth in the veins.

That's the temperature of life.

Faint, yet resolute.

Kong Xuan withdrew his hand and stood up.

He stood at the edge of the depression, looking south.

The white light grew farther and farther away, like a stretched-out thread.

A gust of wind came from behind him, blowing his robes.

He took the broken corner out of his sleeve and placed it next to the grass roots.

Then he took out the bone fragment and placed it next to the broken horn.

Then take out the grain of ash and place it next to the bone fragment.

The three things lay side by side beside the grass roots.

It resembles both a sacrificial offering and a road sign.

Kong Xuan stood up straight without saying a word.

He turned around and walked south along the way he came.

The wind pushed him from behind, causing his dark robe to flutter.

He didn't walk fast, but every step was steady.

The white light grew closer and clearer.

Until he stood before the crack again.

The Golden-Winged Roc was still guarding under the tree. When he saw him return, he stood up.

Kong Xuan landed back on the clouds, his black robe fluttering in the wind before slowly drooping down.

He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the white light, his expression as calm as ever.

The wind blew through the crack, carrying the scent of grass and trees from the other side.

His robes rolled up, yet remained perfectly still.

The Golden-Winged Roc glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

He simply stood there, gazing at the white light.

A night breeze swept in from afar, passing between the two.

The leaves of the sapling swayed gently, as if in response to something.

It was as if nothing had happened.

It's just the wind blowing. That's all.

The night breeze slowly drifted in from the crack.

Kong Xuan stood on the clouds, his black robe fluttering in the wind before slowly falling back down.

He didn't speak.

The Golden-Winged Roc remained silent.

The two stood there, one on the left and one on the right, separated by the small tree.

The fruit on the tree has been picked, leaving a small section of the branch bare.

The newly sprouted buds are pushing out tiny buds in the leaf axils, pale green, smaller than a grain of rice.

It will take a long time for it to grow back.

Kong Xuan reached into his sleeve, his fingertips touching the small objects one by one.

Leaves, grass stems, feathers, dried flowers, petals frozen with snowmelt.

Then there was the fruit.

The fruit was warm to the touch, like a stone that had been baked in the sun all day.

He didn't take it out.

I just touched it briefly to make sure it was still there, then I withdrew my hand.

A very faint gray-white hue appeared on the horizon.

It wasn't dawn; it was a different color.

It was as if someone had laid a thin sheet of paper across the sky, the surface of which shimmered slightly.

The gray color was advancing slowly and evenly from north to south.

Like a tide.

Kong Xuan stared at the gray figure without moving.

The Golden-Winged Roc also saw it and turned its head away.

"It's coming?"

"Come here again."

"Slower than last time."

"Last time was a test; this time it's an advance."

The Golden-Winged Roc remained silent for a moment before speaking, "The dark figure bypassed that gate and chose the north."

"But something on the northern tundra has been burned to death, and the source of that heat is still moving south."

"They're not in cahoots."

"They each go their own way, but their destination is the same: this crack."

Kong Xuan did not deny it.

The wind picked up a bit.

The gray-white skyline advanced a bit further, its edges jagged, like cotton wool torn apart by the wind.

Kong Xuan suddenly spoke up: "You keep watch for a while."

The Golden-Winged Roc paused for a moment, then asked, "Where are you going?"

"The skeleton under the ice to the north wasn't buried deep enough."

"The snowstorm is coming; it will be blown out. We need to press it down a bit more."

The Golden-Winged Roc didn't ask any further questions, and simply nodded.

Kong Xuan turned and flew north, his black robe sweeping across the clouds like an ink mark across the water.

He flies very fast.

The wind whistled past my ears, sharp and dry.

The tundra unfolds beneath your feet, gray and white like a forgotten piece of old paper.

He didn't stop, he flew all the way to the sky above the lake and landed.

The lake was still there, but the ice was thicker than the last time I saw it, with a layer of fine snow powder floating on the surface.

He crouched down and placed his palms on the ice.

The skeleton is still under the ice.

He was curled up, and the light between his ribs was dimmer than before.

The light was cold and contracting, like a lamp that was about to burn out.

Kong Xuan did not touch the ball of light.

He condensed an extremely thin golden light from his fingertips, which slowly seeped into the edge of the ice surface and circled around the skeleton.

The golden light did not touch the skeleton, but instead solidified and compressed the ice around it, pressing it down several feet.

The skeleton sank down, and the light was once again enveloped by the ice layer, as if it had been buried deeper underground.

After Kong Xuan finished doing all this, he stood up.

The lake returned to normal, leaving only a faint golden trace on the ice.

It was quickly covered by the snow powder blown by the wind.

He turned around without stopping.

When I returned to the crack, the layer of gray was much closer.

It was so close that you could see its edges clearly, like a thin layer of smoke being blown away by the wind.

The gray color is mixed with tiny white specks—it's snow.

The snow was falling from the gray sky, sporadically, landing on the wisps of clouds and the leaves of the small trees.

The leaves trembled slightly but did not shrink.

The snow fell on the golden roots and immediately melted into water droplets, which slid down the roots into the depths of the clouds and were absorbed by the root system.

The golden-winged roc stood under the tree, a thin layer of snow on its shoulders.

He saw Kong Xuan return and patted the snow off his shoulder.

"It started snowing. There was no sign of any dark shadow in the snow."

"Clean and pure, that's snow."

Kong Xuan reached out and caught a snowflake.

The snowflakes fell into my palm, cool and refreshing, and melted quickly.

It was definitely snow; it didn't smell like anything else.

Like the winter of that world, blown by the wind through cracks and falling here.

"It's not advancing; it's paving the way."

The Golden-Winged Roc frowned: "Pave the road?"

"The snow fell, covering the tundra, the mountain ridges, and the entrance to this crack."

"The more snow falls, the smoother the road becomes. With a smooth road, anything can be easily traversed."

The golden-winged roc looked up at the gray layer, then looked down at the wisps of clouds beneath its feet.

The thin layer of snow on the clouds is slowly accumulating, already covering half of the clouds.

"So what do we do?"

"Sweep. Sweep away each layer of snow that falls."

Kong Xuan raised his hand, and golden light surged from his palm like a warm tide, washing over the clouds.

The snow melted when it was illuminated by the golden light, turning into water vapor that rose and dissipated in the wind.

But the snow kept falling. It fell thicker and thicker.

The layer of gray pressed down even lower, almost touching the top of my head.

The Golden-Winged Roc also made its move, its feather blades flashing out, spreading golden light like a fan, sweeping away the snow that had fallen on the treetops.

The two people, one on the left and one on the right, were sweeping snow in the clouds.

The snow fell quickly, and they swept it even faster.

But the grayness continued to advance, continued to press closer.

Like a large hand slowly closing.

After Kong Xuan finished sweeping a cloud, he straightened up and looked north.

In the depths of gray, a very faint shadow is moving.

It's very light, so light that it almost blends into the gray.

But it's moving.

It's slowly approaching this way.

Kong Xuan didn't move; he simply stood under the tree, watching the shadow.

It walks slowly, each step as steady as a measuring motion.

The snow along the way parted on its own as it passed, only to close up again behind it, as if it had never been disturbed.

The shadow traveled all the way to the edge of the clouds before stopping, looking at Kong Xuan from a distance of several dozen feet.

The Golden-Winged Roc gripped its feather blades tightly, not making a move rashly.

The shadow stood silently for a long time, then slowly spoke, its voice dry and hollow, like wind passing through a hollow tree trunk:

"The one to the north is dead, did you do it?"

Kong Xuan did not answer.

The shadow added, "That thing was going to come over. It shouldn't have died."

Kong Xuandao: "It's dead."

The shadow remained silent for a moment.

"That creature is mine."

Kong Xuan looked at the shadow but didn't reply.

The shadow paused for a moment at the edge of the gray: "I waited many years in the north, waiting for it to grow big enough, so that it could move south."

"It was a key, a way to bypass this crack and take another path. You killed it."

Kong Xuan said, "Whether it's the key or a living creature, it has gone too far into this area."

"It's deep enough to reach my heart."

The shadow did not speak again.

But its outline had expanded slightly, as if something was being pushed open from the inside.

The gray edges began to churn, and the snow fell more heavily.

The Golden-Winged Roc took half a step forward, its feather blades held horizontally in front of it.

"Take one more step, and I'll kill you."

The shadow did not move.

It simply stared at Kong Xuan, as if waiting for him to speak first.

Kong Xuan stood there, the wind carrying snow as it swept past him.

He said, "The key you raised is dead. But you're still walking. You're not walking the key's path, you're walking your own."

"You bypassed the crack, bypassed the tree's roots, bypassed my sight. But you couldn't get past it."

This road is not yours.

The shadow remained silent for a long time, then its edges began to slowly shrink.

The gray surging gradually subsided, and the snowfall slowed down.

It took a step back, blending into the gray depths, and the sound came back from further away.

"The road is neither mine nor yours."

"The door is open; anyone can walk through."

You can hold on for a while, but not forever.

The shadow blended completely into the gray and disappeared.