Yang Spirit

Zhou Qing frowned. This was not the first time he had heard the term.

It had been mentioned in ancient classics and Daoist legends.

But the wording was vague, and later generations mostly regarded it as exaggeration or an idealized realm.

"The Yang Spirit is the pinnacle of the Yin Spirit—pure yang without yin, gathering and dispersing without form, joining the Dao and returning to truth."

"Only upon reaching this point can one cast off the shackles of the flesh, let the spirit roam the Great Void, cross star rivers in a single thought, and even peer into the mysteries of space-time."

Immortal Emperor Aotian's tone was calm, yet it carried an unquestionable authority.

"No one on Earth has ever cultivated a Yang Spirit?" Zhou Qing pressed.

"Perhaps there have been, perhaps there have not. And if there truly were, then with the power of a Yang Spirit, they would long since have left this cage to pursue the true Great Dao. Why would they remain here, keeping company with ants like you?"

Immortal Emperor Aotian's tone was disdainful.

Zhou Qing fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Can you help me break through to Refining God to Void?"

He had been stuck at the early stage of Qi Refining to Godhood for a very long time.

He clearly felt that his Yin Spirit was already solid enough, and his perception of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was growing ever clearer, yet he still could not touch the threshold of the next step.

Refining God to Void was the crucial step where the Yin Spirit transformed into the Yang Spirit. The records in the classics were hazy, and his sect's inheritance had long since been severed.

Immortal Emperor Aotian seemed to have been waiting for these words