As he wrote these words, the young Jade Emperor seemed to feel that he had poured out every ounce of his strength, yet had done so with exhilarating abandon. He withdrew the fingers of his right hand and unconsciously took half a step back, looking at the one phrase that stood alone amid countless notes of "be careful," "stay on guard," and "never trust completely": [Anti-Heaven].
Those two words, amid all these cautious, craven words of survival,
shone with an indescribable sharpness, like an old man nearing the end of his days beholding a youth's blazing spirit.
The young Jade Emperor recalled what Qi WuHuo had said, the words with an unspoken meaning: "It's just like before you lost your memories. You already have a foundation. What's wrong with starting over and mastering it all again?"
Perhaps because this consciousness of his was also newly born, like a young sun, those words struck a chord with him. Countless thoughts rose in his heart. He breathed out softly, lifted his finger, and continued writing.
[This move is undeniably audacious and terrifying, and it will surely meet with layers upon layers of resistance.]
[It is quite unlike our usual preference for playing it safe.]
[We have always looked from the top down, while Brother Qi has glimpsed things from the bottom up.]
[We see that it is difficult to keep the immortals and gods suppressed, and that we can only struggle to hold things together; Brother Qi sees the immortals and gods in ruin, doing as they please. Each is but the other side of the same coin.]
[It is indeed extremely dangerous.]
[But it seems no worse than the way I am currently suppressing the Heavenly Court, so it can serve as an alternative plan.]
[At worst, this body will be