After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

Zhou Ran did not respond.

He ignored the old man's inscrutable demeanor, walked straight to the counter, pulled over a wooden chair, and sat down.

With his eyes slightly narrowed, he silently activated the Purple-Gold Eye Technique.

The power of the eyes, a fusion of the desolate wilderness and the demonic essence, relentlessly crushed towards the old man behind the counter.

There is no cause-and-effect relationship, no lifespan, and even the fate of life and death cannot be deduced.

In the Demon Eye's vision, this old man was a complete mess, drifting outside the laws of Heaven.

It's like an old object abandoned by time.

Although they were both reincarnated beings, he could see through the patterns of Li Zhiyao and Feng Xi, but he couldn't see through this old man at all.

"Those who are subject to reincarnation truly live up to their name."

"But I don't like people playing riddles with me."

Above my head, an old, crumbling wooden ceiling fan creaked and groaned as it turned.

The city of Jiangcheng in July was so stuffy that it was hard to breathe, but the shops exuded a coolness that shouldn't belong to summer.

I don't know if it's because of those clocks, or if this old thing simply doesn't belong to the world of the living.

A stack of unopened newspapers was piled up in the corner of the counter, the top one dated three years ago.

The only photograph on the wall was faded; it wasn't of a person, but of an old locust tree struck by lightning.

There was no trace of "people" in this shop.

It's all about 'time'.

The old man paused, then put down the lens cleaning cloth in his hand.

His smile remained unchanged, but the spiritual energy within his body poured out like a floodgate opening.

That was a spiritual pressure carrying the aura of ancient times and the primordial era.

There was no murderous intent, yet it was as heavy as Mount Tai, using the time distortion law within the watch shop to press down firmly on Zhou Ran's shoulder.

Ah Ning was forced to kneel down by the oppressive force.

Xiao Rou stood at the doorway, the spiritual pressure causing her lips to turn white and her feet to involuntarily shuffle backward.

Zhou Ran sat in the chair without moving.

"Old man, are you testing me with this?"

He placed his left hand on the edge of the table and lifted it up.

boom!

The primordial blood energy surged forth from his body. Without even forming any spiritual incantations, his naked physical strength transformed into a tangible wave of energy that pushed outwards.

The old man's ancient aura collided with this force and was shattered.

The blast wave, still powerful, swept across the entire shop with devastating force.

Crackling sounds!

On the walls and ceiling, hundreds and thousands of antique clocks shattered simultaneously, with glass shards and gears turning into dust that fell in abundance.

The wooden ceiling fan overhead was blown away by the blast of air and crashed into the corner of the wall with a thud, its blades breaking into three pieces.

The disturbing ticking sound was completely eradicated.

The old man's smile froze on the spot, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes tightened stiffly.

He took a step back and bumped his back against the counter.

A monocle fell to the ground, and the lens shattered in two.

But he didn't panic.

Having lived through so many eras, I've seen everything I need to see.

He simply looked down at the gear fragments scattered on the ground and sighed.

"I've been repairing pocket watches for six hundred years."

He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

The airs he had maintained crumbled, leaving behind only an old man who had been holed up in his run-down shop for too long, accepting his fate after his place was vandalized.

"Mr. Zhou, I underestimated you."

Xu Changsheng folded the handkerchief and put it back in his pocket.

"Just say what you want to ask."

"That's more like it."

Zhou Ran brushed the wood chips off his sleeve, his tone anything but friendly.

Xu Changsheng bent down and picked up a dented gear from the ground, twirled it twice on his fingertips, and then put it back on the counter.

"Mr. Zhou, we reincarnators may seem to have escaped the Three Realms, but in reality we are just remnants of souls trapped in this game of chess by the Heavenly Dao."

One can only follow the natural order and help it move forward; one cannot defy fate and change one's destiny.

The three-colored elixir within you is a 'mind-based elixir' that disregards the rules of Heaven, completely beyond my comprehension.

I can't teach you.

"Then who can teach me?"

Xu Changsheng did not answer immediately.

He walked behind the counter and pulled out a rough pottery teapot from a hidden compartment.

He poured a cup of tea into the clean guest cup.

The tea was cloudy and had a strong, musty smell.

"Want some?"

This pot of tea has been brewing for thirty-seven years.

They were waiting for someone to come and have a second drink.

Zhou Ran didn't touch it.

Xu Changsheng picked up the cup, which was covered in thick, black tea stains, and took a sip.

"I've lived too long."

So long ago, I can't even remember when I started repairing clocks.

It's probably...

Clocks can break down and stop, just like people.

When I'm repairing them, I don't feel so lonely.

He put down his cup and glanced at Zhou Ran.

"Mr. Zhou, the highest cultivation level among the girls around you is only at the late Foundation Establishment stage."

The higher you climb, the less they can keep up.

Zhou Ran tapped his finger on the table.

He didn't say a word.

Xu Changsheng noticed that Zhou Ran's eyes didn't waver once from beginning to end.

The two sat facing each other for a few seconds.

Zhou Ran spoke:

"I'm not here to listen to your lamentations about life."

My only question is, who can teach me how to form my core?

"An ascetic monk."

His Dharma name is Wuxiang.

Xu Changsheng's expression turned serious.

His tone carried a reverence he had never shown even when facing Zhou Ran.

"This person..."

I don't know how to describe it.

I have lived through so many eras and have seen all kinds of great beings in the Three Realms.

But the formless is different.

This person has never existed in this world, yet he always seems to appear at the critical juncture of every dimensional calamity.

He left behind a single sentence and then vanished.

Nobody can find him unless he wants you to.

Xu Changsheng lowered his voice even further as he spoke.

"I believe only this person can help you achieve the Core Formation."

"Formless..."

That's interesting.

Zhou Ran stroked his chin, lost in memories.

He recalled the golden Buddha statue in the Zhenhun Temple at Jiangcheng Wharf, which suppressed the drought demon.

Then they met again at Laoshan.

It does bear some resemblance to the formless being that Xu Changsheng spoke of.

Where is he?

Zhou Ran asked.

Xu Changsheng pulled out a yellowed sheepskin map and handed it over with both hands.

"The dimensional barrier behind Laoshan Mountain has recently loosened again, and the aura of the illusory realm is seeping outwards."

A person like Wuxiang will go wherever a crack appears.

According to my calculations, he should be deep in the mountains of Laoshan these days.

But such existence cannot be understood using common sense.

Whether we meet or not depends entirely on fate.

Zhou Ran took the map and stuffed it into his pocket.

He stood up, ready to leave.

He actually had many questions he didn't have time to ask.

Primordial Bone...

The underworld...

And, as the Song emperor said, "the time is ripe."

But this old fellow can't escape; there will be plenty of opportunities. The most urgent task is to improve his cultivation.

Besides, he doesn't have much time left.

"Mr. Zhou, please wait."

Xu Changsheng called out to him from behind, his voice tightening slightly.

"Say something more."

The rebel forces of the underworld have already noticed that you have pulled out the Primordial Bone.

The blockade of the Ten Courts is about to collapse.

If the minions of the illusory realm cross the line in large numbers, the peace of the mortal realm will not last long.

Time is running out for you.

Zhou Ran paused in his tracks.

Without turning back, he coldly tossed out a sentence:

"Take care of your own life."

He pushed open the door and went out.

The July heatwave poured down, a stark contrast to the cool shade inside the shop just moments before.

Back in the car, Zhou Ran swiftly issued the order:

"A-Ning, arrange a helicopter."

Go to Laoshan.

Ah Ning was taken aback:

"Now?"

"Now."