Time drifted on, and in the blink of an eye, a thousand years had flowed past.
The West.
Mount Sumeru.
Beside the Eight Treasures Merit Pool, misty vapors coiled, golden lotuses bloomed in profusion, and Buddha light shone everywhere.
By the pool, a figure that had sat cross-legged for a thousand years finally opened his eyes slowly.
The aura around him, once withered and weak, had now fully recovered. In its place was a vast sacred might, perfect and unobstructed, returned to its peak.
It was Daoist Zhunti, awakened from seclusion.
Almost the instant he woke, Daoist Jieyin, who had been keeping watch at the side all along, sensed it. A trace of concern appeared on that sorrowful face.
"Junior Brother, you're awake."
Jieyin spoke with concern.
"How are your injuries?"
Zhunti rose to his full height. Buddha light flowed around him, and his shattered golden body had long since condensed anew, without the slightest crack visible.
He nodded slightly to Jieyin, his voice steady.
"Senior Brother, don't worry. I've fully recovered."
"It's all thanks to the water of the Eight Treasures Merit Pool. Otherwise, healing within a thousand years would have been absolutely impossible."
Only after hearing this did Jieyin's heart, which had been hanging in suspense all this time, finally settle completely.
He knew full well just how severe his junior brother's injuries had been this time.
First, his golden body had been shattered by Venerable Lord Yuanshi. Later, Nuwa had struck in wrath as well, suppressing him until his very origin had nearly been damaged.
If not for the two of them having deep foundations, and the Merit Pool's waters to recuperate in, anyone else would never have dreamed of recovering without tens of thousands of years of bitter cultivation.
To recover as good as new within