A man forgotten by the world, Sect Master Tongtian bestows a sword, a visit to the Chan Sect to meet Venerable Yuanshi
Inside Shangqing Hall.
Qingyuan looked at Sect Master Tongtian.
That face was exactly as he remembered it.
Fine-featured and youthful, with kindness, a free-spirited ease, and an impartial detachment toward all living beings beneath heaven in his eyes.
He wore a blue-green Daoist robe, silver patterns winding around its cuffs like dragons and serpents.
He sat there, his aura merging with Shangqing Peak, with the Kunlun Mountains, with the underlying currents of the entire Primordial Wilderness.
A Saint.
In Qingyuan's memories, that face had once smiled at him.
He had once patted Qingyuan's shoulder.
He had once taught Qingyuan the Dao in private deep within Biyou Palace, gesticulating wildly when inspiration struck, without a trace of a Saint's dignity.
He had once flown into a rage when Qingyuan was humiliated, the Slaying Immortal Sword humming as it left its sheath, a four-gate sword formation bearing down across ten thousand miles, all to secure justice for him.
Those memories were utterly real.
Every frame was embedded in the deepest reaches of his Dao Heart.
But those memories belonged to the world where he had attained the Dao.
They belonged to an illusion.
They belonged to his experiences before transmigration, before attaining the Dao, before Transcendence.
In the true Primordial Wilderness, he had no connection to the Interception Sect.
No connection to Sect Master Tongtian.
He was simply Qingyuan.
The master of the Devouring Great Dao.
The madman who had chased the Dao Ancestor down to kill him.
The being who had attained Mythic Daluo under those circumstances.
Sect Master Tongtian looked over.
His gaze was gentle, compassionate, and unfathomable.
There was no place for Qingyuan in that gaze.
Qingyuan's Dao Heart tightened slightly.
It was a strange feeling.
He stood here before one of the greatest Saints of the Primordial Wilderness,