Under One Person: I Have a Billion Taoist Gods Within Me

Zhang Zhiwei's pupils suddenly contracted.

He "senseed" it.

The "momentum" that was brewing was remarkably similar to his previous palm strike.

Yet how different they are.

His palm strike just now was "faith".

Believe in yourself, and you will be thunder; believe in my will, and heaven and earth will respond to that palm strike.

And Li Yuan's palm strike—

It is the "source".

It is the very source of the Zhengyi Thunder Magic.

It was the original primordial thunder from 1,800 years ago, which was personally "demonstrated" by the Celestial Master.

In that instant, the thunderous energy within Zhang Zhiwei's body suddenly surged violently.

It was not a riot of fear, nor a riot of resistance.

But -

A rebellion to reconnect with one's ancestors.

Those thunderous energies, those thunderous energies that he had cultivated for twenty years and which had long since merged with his life, seemed to suddenly "remember" something at this moment.

They surged wildly within him, not to break free of his control, but to—

They rushed toward that illusory figure.

They rushed toward the sword that was hanging in mid-air.

Heading towards that, their true "home".

Zhang Zhiwei was terrified and desperately tried to suppress the rampaging thunder energy within his body by circulating his inner energy.

But the more he suppressed it, the more restless the thunderous energy became.

They rampaged through his body, as if questioning him:

What right do you have to stop us?

That is our root.

That is our source.

We need to go back.

We want to go back!

Cold sweat streamed down Zhang Zhiwei's forehead.

He had never encountered this situation before.

For twenty years, he had tamed the thunder energy as if it were his own limbs. He could make it go east, and it would never go west; he could make it gather and disperse, and it would never slacken.

But now, they wouldn't listen to him.

They only listen to that phantom.

Or rather, they are just—

I want to go home.

Zhang Zhiwei suddenly understood.

What exactly is the "faith" I have held for the past twenty years?

He believed that he was thunder.

But is this lightning bolt truly "one's own"?

This thunder energy, this method, this state of "I am thunder"—

Which one of them wasn't passed down from the Celestial Master?

Which one doesn't have the surname "Zhang"?

Which one doesn't acknowledge that "source"?

He thought he was the master of this thunder.

But at this moment, Ray told him—

Child, you are not the master.

You are just someone who stays at home.

And the master has returned.

Zhang Zhiwei trembled all over, his Dao heart teetering on the brink of collapse.

However, at that moment...

Li Yuan's right hand moved.

That movement was extremely slow.

The movement was so slow it was as if time itself was frozen beneath his palm, rather than his hand moving.

But it was this one movement—

The raging thunderous energy within Zhang Zhiwei's body instantly "calmed down".

It is not a silence that has been suppressed, nor a silence that has been tamed.

But -

When she finally saw her parents, all the grievances she had felt turned into silence.

It was the silence that encapsulated a thousand unspoken words when we finally arrived home.

It is the tranquility of finally finding a home after a life of wandering.

Zhang Zhiwei was stunned.

He looked at Li Yuan's right hand, which was slowly pushing towards him; he looked at the twin swords hanging before the image of the Ancestral Celestial Master; he looked at those eyes that seemed to see through the ages—

He suddenly wanted to escape.

The thought startled even him.

Zhang Zhiwei has never suffered a defeat, has never been afraid, and has never retreated.

But at this moment, he wanted to escape.

He didn't want to face that slap.

It wasn't because the palm strike was particularly powerful.

It was this palm strike that made him see for the first time the end of his twenty years of "faith".

At the end, there was a wall.

A wall he couldn't break through, climb over, or get around.

And the name of that wall is—

source.

Li Yuan's palm was still three zhang away from Zhang Zhiwei.

Zhang Zhiwei took a deep breath and gritted his teeth to stand firm.

He did not run away.

He is Zhang Zhiwei.

He is the junior Taoist priest of Longhu Mountain.

He is a person who has the word "faith" engraved in his bones and blood.

He can lose, but he cannot run away.

He can lose, but he cannot back down.

Even if the Celestial Master himself were to appear before him, he would still—

Stand still and take this blow.

This is Zhang Zhiwei's "letter".

However, when Li Yuan's palm was still two zhang away from him.

He suddenly realized that he couldn't move.

It is not bound by any force.

But -

His body wouldn't listen to him anymore.

He tried to circulate his internal energy, but the thunderous energy remained completely still.

He tried to take a step, but his legs felt like lead.

He tried to raise his hand, but his arm felt as if it were nailed to his side.

The only thing he could move was his eyes.

They could only watch helplessly as Li Yuan's hand slowly pushed towards them.

At that moment, a scene suddenly appeared in Zhang Zhiwei's mind.

When he was a child, he found a yellowed, incomplete copy of "Journey to the West" in the Sutra Repository of Longhu Mountain.

There was an illustration in that tattered copy—

Sun Wukong, who could travel 108,000 li in a single somersault, could never escape the palm of the Buddha.

He found it amusing at the time, and forgot about it after flipping through the book.

But at this moment, he finally understood.

The reason why Sun Wukong could not escape from the Buddha's palm was not because the Buddha's power was greater.

Rather, it's because—

The palm of the Buddha's hand is the world of Sun Wukong.

How could Sun Wukong possibly somersault outside of heaven and earth when he can somersault between heaven and earth?

At this moment, Zhang Zhiwei is none other than Sun Wukong.

Li Yuan's palm strike was the palm of the Buddha.

It wasn't this palm strike that enveloped him.

Rather, it is Zhang Zhiwei who lives within the "source" represented by this palm strike.

How can he hide?

How can he block it?

How he—

Escape from the roots that sustain them?

One zhang (approximately 3.3 meters).

Li Yuan's palm was only ten feet away from him.

That invisible "force" is already upon us.

It's not oppression, not attack, not anything that needs to be resisted.

only--

presence.

The mere existence of it made Zhang Zhiwei feel that his twenty years of cultivation were like a drop in the ocean, like a firefly compared to the bright moon, like a frog at the bottom of a well looking up at the sky and truly "seeing" the heavens for the first time.

His legs began to tremble.

It wasn't a trembling of fear, but a trembling of instinct—the involuntary awe that arises in the human body when faced with something far too vast.

His resolve began to waver.

It's not the swaying of defeat, but rather the inevitable swaying when old perceptions collapse as you finally see a higher place.

Three feet.

Li Yuan's hand stopped three inches from his forehead.

No one was left behind.

In that instant, Zhang Zhiwei suddenly felt something inside him shatter.

It's not that my heart is broken.

It's not that my cultivation level shattered.

But -

The wall of "faith" that he had thought was insurmountable for the past twenty years had crumbled.

On the other side of the wall lay a world he had never seen before.

He saw it.

I saw that at the end of "faith" is "nothingness".

I saw that the end of "I" is "the Way".

He saw the road he had walked for twenty years, which had led all the way here.

Leading to this palm strike.

Leading to this moment.

Towards—

Li Yuan's gentle eyes.

Zhang Zhiwei was panting heavily, looking as if he had just been pulled out of the water, his Taoist robe soaked with sweat.

But he did not fall.

He gritted his teeth, straightened his body, and looked at Li Yuan.

In those bright eyes, there was no defeat, no resentment, only one thing—

It was as if the fog had been cleaved, and finally, clarity and relief could be seen from a higher vantage point.

Li Yuan withdrew his right hand and simply looked at Zhang Zhiwei quietly.

After a moment, he spoke softly, his tone still gentle and calm, yet carrying a faint hint of a smile:

"Junior Brother Zhiwei."

"I wonder what this slap I gave you—"

"How does it compare to that slap you just gave me?"

Zhang Zhiwei was stunned.

He recalled how, when he had just "guided" Lu Jin, his palm had gently pushed out, revealing Lu Jin's triple rebirth technique clearly.

At that time, he was the one who "illuminated," and Lu Jin was the one who was "illuminated."

At this moment, he became the one being "illuminated".

And "according" to him—

It is the Daoist charm personally manifested by the Celestial Master.

He suddenly realized that Li Yuan's question wasn't about comparing who was better, but rather a reminder to him—

When you were "shining" at others back then, did you ever think that one day you would also be "shining" at?

When you once took "faith" as your peak, did you ever think that there are mountains beyond mountains and heavens beyond heavens?

This question shocked him even more than the palm strike he had just received.

Because that palm strike only "illuminated" his thunder magic.

This question, however, revealed his true feelings.

Zhang Zhiwei suddenly laughed.

In that smile, there was no bitterness, no disappointment, only one thing—

It felt like finally seeing real mountains and rivers, a truly satisfying experience.

"Senior Brother Li Yuan."

He spoke, his voice hoarse, yet unusually candid:

"Junior brother's slap can only 'shine' on people."

"This slap from my senior brother can 'illuminate' the heart."

"Junior brother is convinced."

As he spoke, he clasped his hands in a fist salute and bowed deeply.

A bow.

This gesture was more profound and weighty than any other before.

Li Yuan nodded slightly in return.

Immediately, the ancestral master's image, formed from purple energy, behind him began to slowly fade away.

That white-haired, youthful face, those eyes that seemed to see through the ages, that pair of swords, the male and female swords that could slay evil—

Everything, like the morning mist, gradually dissipated.

In the end, only a wisp of faint purple mist remained, rising gently and disappearing into the night sky.

It was as if that astonishing scene just now was merely a dream that was too realistic.

But the courtyard was utterly silent, filled with countless still-dazed gazes, the tear tracks on Zhang Jingqing's face still wet with tears, and Qin Muting's still-kneeling figure—

They are all speaking silently:

That wasn't a dream.

That's the truth.

Celestial Master Zhang Jingqing finally recovered from the enormous shock.

He took a deep breath, and with trembling hands, raised his sleeve to wipe away the tears on his face.

He looked at Li Yuan, and in those deep eyes, there was no longer the usual gentleness and depth, only one thing—

It was as if one were looking at something indescribable, filled with awe and gratitude.

He wanted to say something.

He opened his mouth, but found that he couldn't say anything.

In the end, he simply bowed deeply in the direction of Li Yuan.

This bow involved bending the waist extremely low, almost parallel to the ground.

The venerable Celestial Master of our time performs such a grand ceremony before a young Taoist priest in his early twenties—

This is unprecedented in the history of the supernatural world.

At this moment, no one in the entire courtyard felt anything was amiss.

Zuo Ruotong sat upright at the main table, his teacup long since cold, but he was completely unaware of it.

He looked at Li Yuan, then at Zhang Zhiwei who was still bowing, and then at the Celestial Master Zhang Jingqing who was bowing deeply. A complex and indescribable light flashed in his eyes.

He recalled how Li Yuan had gently yet firmly refused his offer of "Triple Rebirth" when he had just presented it to him at the Chengxin Water Pavilion.

At that time, he only felt regret.

At that moment, he suddenly felt fortunate.

Fortunately, Li Yuan did not accept.

Otherwise, his triple rebirth might become a constraint in Li Yuan's hands.

Bai Ling sat at the table, and for the first time, a genuine solemnity appeared on her exquisite face.

She looked at Li Yuan, at the figure in the moon-white Taoist robe, and silently pondered:

For a fleeting moment, I even thought I wasn't seeing Daozi.

"But..."

She paused, her gaze falling on Li Yuan's brow, where a faint wisp of purple aura had not yet completely dissipated.

"The Source of All Gods!"

What exactly is hidden within the inner world of this Daoist Li Yuan?

"How could the true essence and Dharma form of the Celestial Master Zhang Daoling manifest so naturally and completely?"

Could it be...?

She suddenly remembered some secrets passed down through generations of the Guanwai Ma Xian lineage, and her heart skipped a beat, daring not to think any further.

Guan Shihua sat blankly beside her mother, her little face full of confusion.

She didn't quite understand what had just happened.

But she could sense that the way the adults around her were looking at Li Yuan was completely different from before.

In those eyes, there was awe, admiration, gratitude, and something else—

It felt like looking at a god with a sense of distance.

She didn't understand what that was.

But she knew that her brother Li Yuan must be very, very powerful.

The excitement had completely vanished from Wang Ai's chubby face, leaving only a blank expression.

He looked at Li Yuan, then at Zhang Zhiwei who was still bowing, and then at the Celestial Master who was bowing deeply. His little head was in a complete mess.

He suddenly tugged at his father's sleeve and asked in a low voice:

"father..."

"That Celestial Master... is he the one mentioned in our Wang family's divine scriptures, the founder of the Zhengyi sect of Taoism, the Grand Master of the Three Heavens' Teachings?"

Wang Wang nodded, his voice low:

"Yes."

Wang Ai swallowed hard.

"How could Li Yuan Daozi... how could he allow the Celestial Master to manifest?"

Wang Wang remained silent for a long time.

He watched Li Yuan's retreating figure, a complex and indescribable light flashing in his eyes.

Finally, he spoke in a low voice, a barely perceptible tremor in it:

"Even Father doesn't know."

"But Dad knows one thing—"

"From this day forward, the history of the world of superhumans has been completely changed because of him."

Wang Ai was stunned.

He watched Li Yuan's retreating figure, and the bewilderment on his small face gradually transformed into something deeper.

He didn't understand what it was yet.

But he had a vague feeling that he might never forget this scene in his life.

Lu Ci sat beside his elder brother, his whole body still trembling slightly.

He recalled the high spirits he had felt when he challenged Lu Jin earlier.

I recalled the shock and resentment I felt when I saw Zhang Zhiwei deliver that palm strike.

Thinking back to this moment, watching Li Yuan summon the Ancestral Celestial Master—

Completely speechless.

He suddenly felt ridiculous.

It's utterly ridiculous.

In the face of such a person, my meager cultivation, my competitive spirit, and my ambition to "show the world that the Lü family also has members"—

What does it matter?

He looked at his elder brother, Lü Ren, beside him.

Lu Ren remained seated, his face calm and composed, as if the astonishing scene that had just unfolded had not had much of an impact on him.

But the tips of his fingers, which were holding the teacup, were slightly white.

The water in that teacup had long since cooled down.

But he didn't drink it.

He just stood there, motionless.

Lu Ci suddenly spoke, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible:

"Brother...do you think...we'll ever catch up to him in this lifetime?"

Lü Ren remained silent for a long time.

Then, he slowly put down his teacup and looked at his younger brother.

In those gentle eyes, there was no frustration, no disappointment, only one thing—

A calmness as if one had already seen through everything.

"Aci".

He spoke softly:

"Some mountains are meant to be climbed."

Some mountains are meant to be looked up to.

"And some mountains—"

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd and landing on the figure in the moon-white Taoist robe.

"It's for remembering."

Lü Ci was stunned.

He looked at his brother, then at Li Yuan, and his eyes suddenly stung with tears.

He nodded vigorously and said nothing more.

The courtyard remained silent.

The figure in the moon-white Taoist robe stood quietly in the center.

The surrounding area was filled with awe and reverence, countless gazes that had not yet come to their senses, and an atmosphere so heavy it was almost stagnant.

He seemed completely unaware.

She simply raised her eyes slightly and looked up at the night sky.

There, a faint wisp of purple mist was slowly dissipating.

He suddenly remembered what his master had told him in the Hunyuan Cave Heaven before he descended the mountain:

"Yuan'er, may you... take every step a lotus blossom."

Li Yuan's lips curled up slightly, revealing a very faint smile.

He withdrew his gaze, looking at Zhang Zhiwei, who was still bowing, then at the Celestial Master Zhang Jingqing, who was bowing deeply, and at the faces in the courtyard that were either shocked, awe-inspiring, or thoughtful.

Then, he spoke softly, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"May the Heavenly Venerable grant boundless blessings."