Divine Skill Descends from Heaven, Great Dao Source Scripture

The sun dipped below the horizon, the last sliver of warmth swallowed by an ink-blue sky, and the endless wilderness plunged into a deathly silence.

The biting wind rose, sharp as a blade, scraping against Lin Fan's bare skin and triggering a continuous, uncontrollable shiver.

The farmer's unbridled mockery from earlier that day, that verdict of "Trash with a power level of 5," still echoed in his ears, each word piercing his heart, far more bone-chilling than the cold of the night.

He stumbled away from the dirt road where he had suffered such humiliation, curling up beneath a jagged, wind-shielded rock. He hugged his arms tightly to his chest, his teeth chattering with a faint, rhythmic clicking.

Unknown insects crawled through the crevices of the stone, and from the depths of the dense forest in the distance, the occasional heart-stopping roar of a beast drifted over, adding a layer of mortal danger.

Hungry, cold, covered in wounds, and with no future in sight.

A crushing despair, heavy as a cold boulder, pressed against his chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

The Dragon Ball World... a terrifying realm where mountains crumbled and energy surged like rainbows, a place where the strong could dim the stars with a wave of their hands. And he was nothing but a "Trash with a power level of 5," lacking even a scrap of cloth to cover his body, his combat strength as insignificant as dust.

Never mind the Saiyans or Frost Demons who dominated the universe; even the hideous beast from earlier that day, or even a slightly larger wild wolf, could easily take his life.

Could it be... am I really going to die here, turning into a pile of dry bones in this wilderness, unnoticed by anyone?

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and parched, heavy with despair and unwillingness.

His consciousness blurred from the cold and exhaustion, and the past twenty-plus years of his life flashed before his eyes like a revolving lantern: the years of bitter study, the cutthroat office politics, the overwork that led to his death...

He had thought he had already hit rock bottom, only to find that after death, he had fallen into an even deeper, more desperate abyss.

Just as his mind grew dim and he was on the verge of freezing to death in this desolate, alien land, a faint, stubborn spark of defiance suddenly flared up from the deepest, frozen reaches of his heart.

I cannot die!

Even if I am a "Trash with a power level of 5," even if I am as lowly as an ant, I cannot die in such a silent, unremarkable way!

The end of dying at my desk was already absurd; how could I add a final act of rotting in the wilderness?

A fierce, almost obsessive will to survive acted like a final ember, reigniting his fading consciousness.

This intent became unprecedentedly focused, pure and intense, surging straight toward his spirit!

Suddenly!

Deep within his chaotic, pitch-black sea of consciousness, without warning, a ten-thousand-foot golden light erupted!

The radiance was magnificent and brilliant, yet not violent; instead, it carried an indescribable, ancient, vast, and supreme Dao aura that instantly dispelled all cold, despair, and darkness.

Where the golden light passed, his sea of consciousness seemed like chaos being opened, becoming clear, vast, and stable.

In the center of this endless golden light, a massive, ancient book—neither gold nor jade, neither silk nor leather—slowly emerged.

On the cover of the book, profound and mysterious Dao patterns intertwined naturally, outlining four characters that contained supreme truth: Great Dao Source Scripture!

The moment the book appeared, it anchored Lin Fan's turbulent mind. A sense of resonance and connection, originating from the depths of his soul, welled up, as if this book had always been something he had lost, only now returning to him.

Without him needing to command it, the Great Dao Source Scripture turned its pages without a breeze, opening to the first page.

There were no ordinary words on the page, but countless golden runes, fine as stardust, flowing incessantly.

These runes were extraordinarily profound. As Lin Fan looked at them, although he did not recognize their shapes or understand their meanings, the infinite mysteries they contained poured into the depths of his soul like a sudden enlightenment, naturally and without obstruction, leaving a deep imprint.

"The Valley Spirit never dies; it is the mysterious female. The gate of the mysterious female is the root of heaven and earth. It is continuous, as if existing, and its use is inexhaustible..."

"Attain the ultimate emptiness, hold fast to stillness. All things flourish together, and I watch their return..."

"Draw Qi into the body, refine the sea of essence, and build the foundation of the Dao..."

Stanzas of scripture containing the truths of heaven and earth, accompanied by a set of profound breathing and meditation techniques and methods for guiding Qi, appeared clearly in his perception.

At the same time, though his mortal eyes could not see it, his spiritual sense—now incredibly sharp due to the activation of the Great Dao Source Scripture—clearly "saw" that in the dark void around him, countless tiny, shimmering energy particles were floating!

These particles were of various colors—cyan, yellow, red, white, black... five colors mixed together, yet containing a strange vitality and spirituality.

As if drawn by an invisible force, they began to gather toward Lin Fan's body, thread by thread.

This is... Qi? Spiritual Qi?!

Lin Fan had a flash of insight and understood immediately.

This must be the energy that existed in this world, sharing the same origin as the "Qi" used by the warriors of the Dragon Ball World, yet it was more primitive, primordial, and closer to its original form!

He had no time to ponder where the Great Dao Source Scripture came from or what level of treasure it was. His intense instinct for survival drove him to immediately follow the guidance of the supreme technique in his mind, attempting to channel these faint energies gathering into his body.

He cast aside all distracting thoughts, struggling to adjust his breathing to be deep, long, thin, and slow, matching a unique rhythm of heaven and earth.

He sank his intent into his body, trying to capture and guide those wisps of cool, ethereal energy.

At first, it was extremely difficult; the spiritual Qi would dart around like mischievous spirits once inside his body, impossible to restrain.

Lin Fan's mind was taut, his concentration absolute; he dared not slacken for a moment, running the profound Qi-guiding technique over and over again.

He did not know how much time had passed, but through his persistent efforts, a faint wisp of cool energy finally, under the guidance of his intent, clumsily and slowly began to circulate along a mysterious path.

Wherever it passed, his skin and bones, which had been nearly numb from the cold, felt as if they had encountered sweet rain after a long drought, producing a trace of faint warmth. The pain and exhaustion seemed to diminish by an infinitesimal amount.

Success!

Although it was only a wisp and the circulation was stumbling, this was truly drawing Qi into the body!

He had successfully captured and guided the spiritual Qi of this world!

A surge of immense joy and hope washed over him like a warm current, instantly shattering the icy despair and sweeping through his entire body.

He dared not slacken, forcing down his agitation to immerse himself even more deeply, cycling through this most elementary technique again and again.

More and more particles of spiritual energy were drawn in, merging into his body to be absorbed and refined by the circulating current.

That initial thread-like stream of energy gradually grew a fraction stronger, and its circulation became significantly smoother.

Little by little, Lin Fan entered a profound state of self-forgetfulness.

The biting cold wind outside, the distant roars of beasts, and the pain in his body all seemed to fade away.

His entire focus was submerged in the faint current flowing slowly within him, feeling its resonance with the countless spiritual particles between heaven and earth, and sensing how it nourished and repaired his broken frame.

The hunger remained, and the cold had not been entirely dispelled, but the bone-deep sense of powerlessness and despair had been gradually replaced by this weak yet tenacious new strength.

The Great Dao Source Scripture remained suspended quietly in his sea of consciousness, radiating a gentle, auspicious golden light that suppressed all evil and clarified his mind.

Runes flowed across its surface with natural Daoist charm, as if containing the supreme secrets of the primordial universe, waiting for him to unlock them one by one.

The night remained deep and cold.

Yet, beneath the rock crevice, Lin Fan's body was gradually veiled in a faint, barely visible glow; his breathing became long and rhythmic, and his complexion, no longer deathly pale, regained a hint of color.

He remained naked, scarred, and still a "Trash with a power level of 5."

However, a seed bearing the supreme Great Dao had been quietly planted within this desolate, near-barren wasteland of his body.

The fire of hope had been rekindled.