The sky was high and the clouds vast, the wind whispering like a song. At the Summit of the Sacred Tree, Astral Wind swept through, lifting Wu Chu's robes and hair, and sending his thoughts drifting afar.
The next moment, his figure vanished with the wind. He merged into it and drifted among the countless mountains, brushing over ridges, skimming across tranquil lakes, sweeping into deep ravines, and floating between heaven and earth.
It was a feeling of absolute freedom. He even wanted to ride the breeze and roam the entire Primordial World. Yet when he reappeared, he had merely arrived atop Jianmu.
What was the point of traveling across the Primordial Land alone?
Traveling through the Primordial World with his wives—that was true enjoyment!
Gazing at the colossal tree, so tall it seemed one could reach out and touch the heavenly curtain, Wu Chu felt that if it continued growing like this, its trunk's diameter would sooner or later exceed Earth's.
One tree becoming one nation would be no problem at all.
Wu Chu's arrival drew no notice from any living being.
Tree Village beneath the giant tree was peaceful and harmonious. The beings there were either cultivating, discussing the Dao, or exchanging moves in sparring matches.
Discussing the Dao was also a form of sparring, one that could be considered a battle of words.
The sparring between these beings was quite gentle, however. It lacked the bloodiness and savagery of ordinary beasts fighting, carrying more of a stop-at-the-right-point feeling.
Wu Chu did not know what the lives and cultivation of beings elsewhere were like, but on Purple Jade Mountain, most intelligent beings obediently restrained their feral natures.
After standing atop Jianmu for a while, Wu Chu vanished again.
Red Cloud did not appear. Evidently, he was in seclusion,