Dusk was red as blood, drifting clouds scattering across the sky.
Huang Tian's soul had entered emptiness, oblivious to all else.
Suddenly, a fierce wind blew down from the high heavens, stirring his wide sleeves and whipping his black hair into a wild, dragon-like dance.
A purple flower in the corner of the wall trembled in the wind. In an instant, a crystalline petal broke free from its branch.
The moment the petal began to fall, he seemed to sense something. His eyes flew open, his gaze blazing like a blood-red sun bursting into radiance within them!
Whoosh—
With a gentle push of his left palm, a stream of true qi surged forth, traveling from shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, wrist to palm.
After completing the strike, he stopped and stood where he was, pondering for a moment. Then he thrust out another palm. Each strike came faster than the last, palm shadows wheeling through the air.
His body moved with them—at times like an ancient pine with roots coiling deep, firmly anchored to the earth; at times like willow fluff drifting on the breeze; at times like a great roc spreading its wings and soaring skyward. Every step, every twist of his body, every palm strike concealed countless transformations.
Tap—
He abruptly stopped, frozen in place, for an image had suddenly appeared in his mind:
Vast purple qi rolled like mountains and seas. Amid that sea of purple clouds, a towering and solemn phantom of the heavenly vault slowly emerged.
Within the heavens stood countless immortal palaces and jade terraces.
And at the very center of all those palaces, an ancient, boundless hall came clearly into view.
Its eight-cornered upturned eaves accorded with the Eight Trigrams of heaven and earth; glazed tiles reflected the gleam of stars throughout