Parting, Traveling the Primordial Wilderness

Xuande was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

His tone was calm, yet carried an unshakable resolve:

"I appreciate the kind intentions of you two Daoist friends.

But this time, I truly feel no breakthrough.

The merit entered my body, merging mostly into my origin, thickening my foundation—no need for urgent seclusion to sort it out like a realm breakthrough. Moreover..."

He paused, lifting his gaze to the distance, eyes profound:

"Since my Form Transformation, I first debated the Dao with you two, then threw myself into the great task of repairing the Earth Veins, and now over ten thousand years have passed.

Though I was born in the West, I have yet to truly journey through this Primordial Wilderness.

Now that the Earth Veins are initially settled, and you two need to go into seclusion, it is a good opportunity.

I wish to take this chance to walk alone, to see and experience the vastness and grandeur of this Primordial Wilderness."

Jieyin's eyes flickered with understanding upon hearing this.

He too had once traveled alone in his early days on the path, visiting Daoist friends to broaden his knowledge.

On the path of cultivation, closed-door bitter training was certainly important, but traveling ten thousand miles, observing the vastness of heaven and earth, witnessing the birth and death of all things—these were equally indispensable experiences.

He nodded: "Daoist brother speaks rightly.

The path of cultivation balances movement and stillness; closed-door meditation and journeying for insight are two sides of the same whole.

Since that is so, Daoist brother, set your mind at ease and travel. Mount Sumeru will be looked after by my junior brother and me. When you return, we shall gather again."

Zhunti felt somewhat reluctant.

In the years of debating the Dao and working together with Xuande, he had long come to regard this profound and steady Daoist brother as a true companion and support.

But he also understood the reason in Xuande's words.

He smiled: "Then Daoist brother, do return early.

This breakthrough has given me many new insights into the Way of Wondrous Application, and I await your return to debate and verify them!

And under that Bodhi Tree, without you, it always feels like something is missing."

Xuande felt a warmth in his heart.

His relationship with Jieyin and Zhunti had evolved from initial wariness and calculation of interests.

To now, after tens of thousands of years of shared work and fighting side by side, a genuine bond of fellow Daoists had grown between them, unnoticed.

He smiled:

"Rest assured, you two Daoist friends. After I travel and gain some insights, I will naturally return to Mount Sumeru.

Then I shall trouble you both again to continue our Dao discussions."

Jieyin nodded solemnly: "Daoist brother, take care on your journey. Though the Primordial Wilderness is vast, it is not without dangers. Your Dao conduct is profound, but you must still be cautious."

"Thank you for the reminder, Daoist brother." Xuande returned the courtesy.

Jieyin and Zhunti delayed no further. After bidding Xuande farewell, they mounted their escaping light and sped off toward Mount Sumeru.

Xuande hovered alone in midair, watching their figures vanish at the horizon.

All around fell utterly silent, save for the rustle of wind across the wilderness and the faint resonance of Spiritual Energy flowing slowly as the Earth Veins settled.

He turned and gazed into the distance.

The vast land stretched in all directions until it met the sky.

The newly repaired Earth Veins hummed quietly underground, releasing thin yet pure Spiritual Energy, nourishing this scarred earth.

Some of the most drought-resistant wild grasses had already poked tender green shoots in the damper corners, swaying gently in the breeze.

This was the land he had spent tens of thousands of years personally helping to restore.

Now, standing alone upon it.

Watching those small, vibrant changes.

Xuande felt an indescribable complexity of emotion rise within him.

Gratitude, satisfaction, and a faint, indefinable wistfulness.

Tens of thousands of years. From his Form Transformation until now, it seemed he had always been rushing toward some goal.

Form Transformation was for freedom.

Joining Mount Sumeru was to resolve karmic debts.

Repairing the Earth Veins was for merit and the foundation of the West...

Every matter was a rational choice made after deep thought, every step taken with care and correctness.

But now, when all urgent tasks had temporarily concluded.

When he no longer had to hurry for a specific goal.

He suddenly felt like walking aimlessly for a while.

Not for anything in particular.

Just... walking, and looking.

Xuande took a deep breath.

He stopped thinking, mounted his escaping light, and flew slowly toward the east, in the direction opposite Mount Sumeru.

He did not fly fast.

There was no appointment to keep, no urgent task to complete.

He simply followed his heart, tracing the undulating veins of the earth, heading east.

At first, the familiar sights of the West still met his eyes:

Slightly barren mountains, sparse vegetation, and Spiritual Energy that, though slowly recovering, was still far from the vitality of the East.

When he flew past several mountains where he had once helped Jieyin and Zhunti sort out the Earth Veins, he deliberately lowered his cloud and landed on the summit.

The Earth Veins here had been dredged with his own assistance.

He pressed his palm against the ground, sinking his divine sense into the earth.

He could clearly perceive several slender Spiritual Veins flowing quietly and smoothly below, carrying a faint, familiar trace.

It was the imprint left by his Merit Golden Light as it merged into them—gentle and pure, like a silent guardian.

He smiled faintly, rose, and continued on.

As he left the edge of the West, Xuande looked back once.

That vast land on the horizon was, from now on, his "homeland" in a sense.

He said silently: I will return. Then he turned and did not look back again.

After crossing the invisible boundary between East and West, heaven and earth seemed to change color abruptly.

The sky of the East was higher and clearer.

The concentration of Spiritual Energy was several times that of the West; with a deep breath, he could feel pure spiritual power seeping into his limbs and bones along with the air.

The color of the earth shifted from gray-yellow to deep brown, even black—fertile and heavy.

The vegetation was astonishingly dense. From a high vantage point, his eyes were filled with endless primeval forests, towering ancient trees, hanging vines, dotted with mirror-like lakes and rivers winding like silver ribbons.

Countless strange flowers and rare herbs, whose names he did not know, grew wildly in valleys rich with Spiritual Energy, emitting fragrances both elegant and rich.

Living creatures were also far more numerous.

Immortal birds occasionally swept across the sky, their wings resplendent, their calls clear and crisp;

Spirit beasts could be glimpsed in the mountains and forests, some agile, some endearingly clumsy;

Some spiritual peaks and blessed lands where Spiritual Energy gathered faintly pulsed with the rhythm of the Dao, likely the secluded cultivation grounds of certain great powers, which outsiders dared not approach lightly.

This was the East.

Xuande slowed his flying speed, moving through this entirely unfamiliar land with an almost leisurely demeanor.

He had no specific destination, no fixed route.

He simply followed his whims, heading in a general direction—the center of the Primordial Wilderness.

Toward the legendary Mount Buzhou, said to prop up the heavens and support the earth, he flew slowly.

He flew over a mountain range stretching for ten thousand miles.

The peaks were majestic and steep, the main summit like a sword piercing the clouds.

He could sense several extremely subtle and powerful auras lurking within the mountains—ancient and deep, carrying the lingering might of the great tribulation war that had yet to fully subside.

He did not approach, only made a wide detour, but a certain understanding rose in his heart.

This place, it seemed, had once been the foundation of a major clan during the Dragon-Han Tribulation.

Now the war had ended, but the wounds remained. Many great powers had chosen to enter closed-door seclusion, either to heal their injuries or to meditate, recuperating and ignoring worldly affairs.