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

As night deepened, the noise in the Lu family courtyard did not diminish in the slightest.

The celebratory gifts and money had long been distributed, replaced by an even more enthusiastic atmosphere of toasting and feasting.

The sounds of string and wind instruments rose again, and the opera troupe returned to the stage, their melodious singing drifting in the night breeze.

The festive atmosphere of the birthday banquet was intensified by the astonishing scene that had just unfolded.

It was as if even the lights in the courtyard were exceptionally bright because they were imbued with the Taoist aura of the Celestial Master.

Li Yuan and Zhang Zhiwei stood side by side in a corner of the courtyard, far from the bustling center.

Zhang Zhiwei was still chewing on the red date he had just eaten, but his gaze fell on Lu Jin, who was exchanging pleasantries with several seniors in the distance.

"Senior brother."

He suddenly spoke, his voice audible only to the two of them.

Li Yuan glanced at him sideways.

Zhang Zhiwei withdrew his gaze, the usual smile on his lips fading slightly, and asked with unusual seriousness:

"You said before, 'Look.'"

"Only by seeing clearly can we act accurately; only by understanding thoroughly can we settle down steadily."

"That--"

His gaze was fixed on Li Yuan, and for the first time, a serious, almost searching look appeared in his bright eyes:

"Senior brother, what exactly did you see?"

Li Yuan remained silent for a moment.

He didn't answer immediately, but instead looked up at the night sky.

There, the stars shone brightly.

But what he saw was more than just starlight.

What he saw was that winter night in the future.

On an unnamed hill outside Tanxi City, where Longhu Mountain is located.

The snow fell silently.

Zhang Zhiwei stood alone on the hill, still wearing only a gray cotton robe.

His clothes were whipped about by the north wind, making a rustling sound, but he remained motionless, like a stone statue.

At the foot of the hill, flickering lights spread like ants.

More than three hundred Japanese pirates and strange people surrounded them from all directions.

Their footsteps pounded through the snow, fine and even, the rustling of armor against armor, the soft swishing of blades cutting through the air, the suppressed breathing—

They coalesced into a low, buzzing sound, like the sound of wind before a swarm of locusts passes by.

Those people smelled of blood.

The stench of blood was strong and heavy; it was the blood of living people, the blood of their compatriots who could no longer open their eyes in the villages and towns along their journey north.

Zhang Zhiwei looked at the firelight, and at the blurry yet ferocious faces reflected in it.

He didn't move, but simply raised his right hand, fingers slightly spread, palm facing upwards.

The snowstorm suddenly stopped.

No, it didn't stop—it was that the sky was being suppressed by something.

At the foot of the hill, someone looked up and let out a short exclamation.

More people are looking up.

Then, everyone saw it.

The night sky cracked open.

It's not a metaphor.

It really cracked.

A bolt of lightning struck straight down from the heavens, cleaving through the clouds, the wind and snow, and the thick, impenetrable night, landing precisely three inches above Zhang Zhiwei's palm—and hovering there.

The lightning did not dissipate; instead, it gathered and grew brighter and more intense, illuminating the entire hill as if it were daytime.

More than three hundred faces were clearly visible in the lightning.

Zhang Zhiwei looked at them.

His gaze slowly swept across the faces of those people—young, old, ferocious, fearful, bloodthirsty, and bewildered—

He looked at it very slowly, as if he was trying to remember something.

Then he smiled.

It wasn't that lazy kind of laugh.

It's that kind of—

A smile that says, "Okay, you're here."

"You've given me too much credit."

The sound was not loud; it could even be described as calm.

But each word, like a nail, was driven into that frozen air.

His hand slowly fell.

The suspended bolt of lightning then fell down as well.

Thunder from the heavens poured down like a waterfall in an instant.

That wasn't just one bolt of lightning, it was hundreds and thousands of bolts.

That wasn't thunder, it was the sky collapsing.

Lightning poured into the hill, into every inch of the land where the three hundred-odd people stood, into their armor, blades, flesh, and bones.

There were no screams.

Because there wasn't enough time.

After the lightning flashed, all fell silent.

Only scorched earth remained.

Only lingering smoke.

The only sound was the soft hissing of snowflakes falling on the scorching hot earth.

Zhang Zhiwei stood alone atop the hill, the lightning around him gradually dissipating.

He looked down at the charred marks at his feet.

"Your blood can warm an inch of soil."

"The night in China is still thousands of miles long."

He raised his head and looked into the distance.

As night deepened, the outline of Tanxi City was faintly visible.

The city is filled with the lights of thousands of homes, the sleeping residents, and those unaware of what happened tonight.

Further afield, war rages on.

There were even more Japanese pirates.

There are many more compatriots who are bleeding, dying, and struggling to survive.

Zhang Zhiwei stood there, alone, dressed in a gray cotton robe, on the scorched earth, amidst the swirling snow.

He stopped laughing.

There is only one—

desolate.

The snowflakes began to fall again, but he didn't move; he just gazed into the distance.

He gazed at the land he had protected.

He gazed at the land he had not yet been able to defend.

It was very windy and cold.

Zhang Zhiwei stood there for a long time.

It was long enough for snow to fall on our shoulders, long enough for the charred marks to be covered by fresh snow, long enough for a hint of pale blue to appear on the horizon.

Li Yuan withdrew his gaze.

The vision of the future receded like the tide, returning to the tranquil starry sea deep within the inner palace of the Great Luo Palace.

He looked at Zhang Zhiwei, his gaze as gentle as ever.

"Junior Brother Zhiwei."

He spoke softly, his voice calm, yet it seemed to carry an indescribable weight:

"Do you know what you will do with all this lightning magic one day?"

Zhang Zhiwei was slightly taken aback.

He thought for a moment, then scratched his head:

"Exorcising demons and monsters? Protecting the righteous and safeguarding the people?"

Li Yuan shook his head slightly.

"Exorcising demons and protecting the people is something that any cultivator should do."

"But your lightning magic—"

"It will be used on a battlefield you cannot even imagine right now."

Zhang Zhiwei frowned slightly.

He sensed the solemnity in Li Yuan's words, but he couldn't understand what the "unimaginable battlefield" meant.

For the first time, a look of near bewilderment appeared in those bright eyes.

"Senior brother... what you've been saying..."

Li Yuan smiled slightly, a smile as faint as a distant mountain.

"Don't overthink it."

What's meant to come will come.

"You will naturally do what you are supposed to do."

His gaze returned to the night sky.

"I'm telling you all this today simply so you'll know—"

"Your faith will be the only thing you can rely on on that day."

"Believe in yourself."

"Believe in your thunder magic."

"letter--"

He withdrew his gaze and looked at Zhang Zhiwei again:

"Your presence alone is enough."

Zhang Zhiwei remained silent for a long time.

He looked at Li Yuan, at those eyes that seemed to see through everything, and suddenly understood.

Understand why Li Yuan wanted to "see".

Understand why Li Yuan had to "make his move".

It became clear that from the moment Li Yuan descended the mountain, he had been preparing for a "future" that he could not yet see clearly, but which truly existed.

He took a deep breath and solemnly clasped his hands in greeting:

"I have taken your words to heart, Senior Brother."

Li Yuan nodded slightly.

The two did not speak again.

We simply stood side by side in a corner of this noisy courtyard, quietly gazing into the distance.

There, the night was as dark as ink, and the starlight as faint as beans.

And further afield, countless people are asleep, enjoying this peace that is about to crumble.

Unbeknownst to them, someone was watching the impending storm for them at that very moment.