At that instant, the little figure of his spirit soul radiated a hazy, ancient air, as if it had heard the heavens and earth sigh.
In an instant, all things under heaven took on a meaning unlike anything he had known before. He could feel it, but there were no words for it, like a warm current pouring from his spiritual platform into his five viscera and six bowels. He clearly sensed that from then on, he could listen to the will of this world.
The mountain stood silent and empty; flowers had bloomed for ten thousand ages!
Years of bitter cultivation, and in a single morning he had touched the threshold of the Dao's mysteries.
Xu Yi's heart was awash with countless feelings. He sighed with emotion, and suddenly thought of Liao Chen, who had led him onto the path of cultivation. A thread of sorrow welled up within him, and grief surged over him like a tide. Tears slid from the corners of his eyes.
The sorrow that came rolling in had never before surged and roared like a mighty river. This intense grief was so powerful it could scarcely be resisted.
Just then, the vast red sands suddenly split open. Countless insects poured out from the sand: golden, many-horned, double-headed crabs; flower-backed, three-headed centipedes several feet long; and golden beetles as big as mallets. They kept gushing forth like water from a newly dug well.
All the insects looked strange, struggling and shrieking incessantly. When Xu Yi finally reined in that sorrow, the swarm surged away as if granted a reprieve.
"They can sense my utmost sorrow."
Xu Yi was astonished, then delighted. This clearly meant he had gained another ability.
Sorrow: the emotions of heaven and earth.
Only then did Xu Yi realize that this was