Zou Zheng froze for a moment. "Celestial Xia..." He sighed. "Yes, there is still Celestial Xia."
With every transformation, he discarded all his former strength and forgot everything from the past. Once reborn anew, he began in a daze, no different from an ordinary infant.
He needed time to settle, then had to slowly learn before he could recover his strength. Those memories of the past also had to be gradually drawn out from within his spirituality.
Only by beginning with nothing could he blend into the newly born race and explore knowledge and power from that race's perspective.
For that reason, he also held a considerable sense of belonging toward the race into which he was born, for every time was equivalent to a new life. Looking upon his former memories was like watching another person's experiences.
Over the past several epochs, most races that reached the Upper Layer had all walked the path of seeking the power of the High One. Celestial Xia alone was an exception.
Although cultivators had arrived in this realm long ago—far earlier than commonly believed—they had always hidden themselves away, guarded themselves, and cultivated their own paths, never having much contact with the mainstream races.
Not until Celestial Xia as a whole descended into the world did he choose to end his previous body and enter Celestial Xia. He had received Celestial Xia's education from childhood, so in this life, his identification with Celestial Xia had come as naturally as breathing.
It was only that, after recovering his strength, he had not thought about this question again for a long time.
Deep down, perhaps because of the conflict brought by his identity, he neither wished to implicate Celestial Xia nor use Celestial Xia to scheme for anything of his own. Thus, he had