The sun and moon are both wrong; who made him seek the Dharma

"I can't stop it."

Duan Xinglian looked at the batch of talismans being spat out, a confident smile playing on his lips, typical of a young man.

"But Patriarch Haoguang can!"

His gaze fell on the talismans, as if he could see through the paper to the contents sealed within:

"Senior sister, please use a magic talisman!"

Saturday, sunny, pupils contracted.

She had never sensed the aura emanating from those talismans before; it wasn't a fluctuation of magic, nor a tremor of cause and effect.

It's a quieter feeling, like something that has been buried for a long time is being dug out again.

That is the core layer of the myriad-path weaving machine, a paradox within a paradox.

"This is……"

Her voice was strained.

"The supernatural power within the paradox."

Duan Xinglian's voice carried a certainty that he himself was unaware of.

"I don't know the specific effects, but the loom indicates that it is very useful for things like pre-selecting the body in the false world and the true world."

Saturday was sunny, and she didn't hesitate any longer.

With a flick of her right hand, she rolled up the talismans, and the moment her fingertips touched the paper, a burst of dark blue light exploded in her palm.

The talismans were ignited at the same moment, transforming into countless fine, dark blue specks of light, like a tide of starlight surging towards the Pacific Ocean.

Those points of light passed through the air without making a sound, generating heat, or producing any magical fluctuations.

They simply flowed quietly, converging in mid-air to form a flowing river.

Like a celestial river rising from the ground, it traveled thousands of miles and silently enveloped the falling, flesh-and-blood meteorite.

over the Pacific Ocean.

Huang's right fist had already reached its maximum power.

The mountain-like surface of the blood and flesh meteorite was wreathed in green flames and dark red lightning, tearing apart the solidified time inch by inch.

He could feel the chains breaking—one, two, three—and each break brought his fist one step closer to his target.

Time is rewinding, and the fist is approaching its target.

He has already seen it.

Hai Shan was now very close to the falling body; he could even see the folds in the other's robes and the curves of the hair.

The body was not far away, being pulled down by gravity. If he pushed the last layer of confinement, he could complete the parasitism before the body was taken away.

Then.....

Huang's mouth was already half-open in a grin.

Then, a dark blue light spot landed on his fist.

Those specks of light were very light, as light as falling dust.

They seeped out from the void, clinging to the surface of his flesh-and-blood meteorite, silently spreading a thin layer of blue light.

There was no resistance, no reaction force, no collision of forces; they simply covered his fist, like a thin veil covering a stone.

But Huang felt his fist suddenly become "far away".

It's not that the distance has increased, but rather that the act of "arriving" itself has been stretched.

He could see Haishan not far ahead, he could see the body falling, he could see the flames burning on his fist, but he couldn't "reach" him.

His fist continued to advance, still tearing apart the chains of time, but the point of "arrival" was retreating in a way he couldn't comprehend.

For every inch forward, the target retreats an inch.

For every zhang (approximately 3.3 meters) you advance, the target retreats one zhang (approximately 3.3 meters).

No matter how far he advances, the goal remains the same distance away, like a road that never ends, like a mountain that can be seen but can never be climbed.

Huang's pupils suddenly contracted.

He sensed that his pre-existing illusion of the real world was failing.

The outcome he had anticipated—"hitting the seamount"—was now altered by something more fundamental.

It's not because the outcome was changed, but because the act of "arrival" itself was redefined.

His fist is always on the way, always close, always just one step away.

The distance between him and Haishan was like a thick barrier.

Always just a little short, forever unable to reach that "reality of arrival".

The distant shore seems so far away, yet so close yet so far.

Huang's heart skipped a beat.

next moment.

The green flames burst into flames again.

The magical power was being consumed layer by layer in that green eye, like a flood in a desperate situation.

Huang's expression changed.

Supernatural powers out of control?!

Because the "results" they predetermine can never be realized.

So, this act of preemption backfired on me?!

Under the incredulous gaze of the wilderness.

His muscles began to crack, fine cracks appeared on his skin, and dark red blood seeped out from the cracks, only to be evaporated by the dark blue light.

A desolate roar exploded across the Pacific Ocean, carrying a long-suppressed frenzy:

"Are you kidding me?!"

Chapter 113 No Bottom Line

2020 AD.

Today's gate.

This rather ancient sect has many guests today.

The square in front of the main hall was filled with tables, chairs and benches that had been moved from various places, some of which were even temporarily borrowed from the teahouse next door.

The powerful individuals sat in twos and threes, some holding teacups, some cracking melon seeds, and some pouring a bucket of popcorn into their mouths.

A group of seekers dressed in robes of various colors sat together, not so much to watch a decisive battle that would determine the fate of the world, but more like to watch an open-air movie.

Chen Wang weaved through the crowd, holding a storage artifact in his hand, like a skilled waiter.

He took out various snacks such as melon seeds, popcorn, peanuts, and braised pig's trotters from his storage artifact and placed them on the table one by one.

Then came several large bottles of cola and milk tea, and even a tub of ice cream.

Finally, he pulled out several sofas from the ritual implements and lined them up in the square.

Such a grand occasion is related to the special supernatural abilities of Gu Shifang, the current leader of the sect.

His innate supernatural power, "Looking from Afar," is simple yet domineering.

Once activated, it will create a large enough window to see scenery thousands of miles away.

And as long as it is seen, one can consume mana to grab it from a distance regardless of the distance.

The visions presented by the supernatural powers were clear and distinct.

Moreover, since it is essentially a spatial supernatural power, it is not subject to interference from magic power like projection talismans.

Looking out the window is a one-way spatial ability, and you don't have to worry about the other side coming to your door.

Therefore, it's unclear when exactly, but a strange set of rules has emerged among the younger generation of various factions:

Every time the Three True Ones make a large-scale move, they come to Jinmen to find Gu Shifang.

Brother Gu's observation skills are excellent, and the opening of the gate today is convenient, with snacks from all over the country available.

You can watch and eat at the same time, or even have hot pot if you want.

They can lend a hand when necessary.

As they grew up, this strange tradition continued, eventually becoming the grand spectacle we see today.

A group of people gathered around the window of the gate, as if watching a movie.

The window was enormous, occupying an entire wall at the far end of the square.

The frame was made of light gold magic, and the window reflected the view of the Pacific Ocean in the far distance.

The flesh-and-blood meteorite was slowly falling, its surface wreathed in green flames and dark red lightning.

Like a blood-red moon falling.

In front of the meteorite, a tiny but clear figure hovered in mid-air, its face contorted in a ferocious expression—it was Huang.

Wu Yuanzhen sat in the middle of the sofa, propped her legs up on the coffee table, and held a handful of sunflower seeds in her hand, cracking them open while reminiscing:

"It's still more comfortable to look at Gu Xiaozhi's place."

Yan You, the head of the Laoshan Buddhist Assembly, whose body was reduced to nothing but a soul, sat beside him, his translucent form shimmering faintly in the sunlight. He nodded, as if a breeze were nodding.

"It's just a bit small."

Beside him, Hu Dasheng, the current owner of the Thousand Machines Museum, and her master nodded in agreement, while grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it into their mouths.

She chewed twice and said indistinctly:

"I'm telling you, Brother Gu, stop worrying about your supernatural powers and the effects of your techniques."

Open a movie theater openly and honestly, and make money and charge fees openly and honestly.