On the desolate plain, snow fell silently through the night.
Beside the fire, Wang Xian sat cross-legged. In his Divine Sea, each character of scripture glimmered with a dusky light. His eyes were tightly shut, yet he could not stop himself from reciting the Gods and Demons Scripture, word by word.
His voice was low and hoarse, like a whisper drifting from antiquity.
The instant he spoke the first word, an indescribable aura slowly welled up around him.
It was tranquil and vast, yet carried an uncanny quality that defied explanation, as if it did not belong to the mortal world—as if it were an ancient echo seeping in from another space-time.
In a blink, a faint golden dome of light took shape above his head. It resembled an ancient bell, enclosing his entire body.
The frigid wind swept across the plain, but the instant it touched the dome, it quietly dissolved into invisible vapor.
Not even a single snowflake could land on Wang Xian.
He remained utterly unaware, simply continuing to recite the ancient scripture.
In his Divine Sea, the golden lotus that had lain dormant for ages suddenly trembled.
Then it drifted upward, crossing the boundless void of his Divine Sea before soaring straight into the heavens.
The golden lotus seemed intent on leaving this world forever, never to return to Wang Xian's Divine Sea. And yet, as if drawn by some unseen summons, it flew toward still greater heights.
Only moments before, the lotus had been no bigger than a washbasin, its petals gently closed, its glow soft.
But soon, as a breeze stirred beneath the moonlight, the golden lotus gradually grew larger and larger.
Its petals unfolded layer by layer. Each one seemed forged from pure gold, yet was as light as a feather, slowly unfurling