Wangji Cultivates, Unaware of Passing Years

After examining things carefully, he was astonished to discover that nothing unusual had actually happened during the time that had just passed!

How was that possible?

Li Zhengyuan could not help sinking into thought, his heart filled with doubt and confusion.

Could that strange feeling just now—that intuition that something important was happening—have been nothing more than his own illusion?

Yet that powerful sensation had felt so real that he simply could not ignore it.

Besides, the skies had been filled with phenomena just now, and he had sensed many gazes no weaker than his own watching him. He did not believe he was the only one who had noticed those changes.

The more Li Zhengyuan thought about it, the more baffling it became. For a moment, he had no idea what to do.

Forget it. He should cultivate first. Strength was the true way.

He took a deep breath, adjusted his condition, and began circulating his cultivation technique once more.

This time, he focused completely, immersing his mind in it as he guided the true qi within his body along the meridian route from before.

However, to his surprise, none of the phenomena from earlier appeared around him, such as golden lotuses covering the ground.

Even so, he could clearly sense a powerful force gradually gathering and growing within his body.

It was like hidden currents surging beneath a tranquil lake. Though the surface appeared calm and peaceful, it contained boundless energy.

As the cultivation technique continued to circulate, he felt every inch of his muscles fill with power, as though he could unleash astonishing might at any moment.

One year, two years, three years...

In the mountains, one knew not the passing of days; when the cold ended, one knew not the year. The path of cultivation was long, and time passed like a fleeting white horse.

For those who had truly embarked upon the path of cultivation, a single instant might span tens of millions of years, while those long tens of millions of years might be no more than a moment.

Look at Li Zhengyuan. He sat cross-legged there, the aura around him slowly rippling outward until it gradually reached perfection.

At first, a dense Wu Earth Intent burst forth from within him, swiftly spreading and enveloping his entire body.

This Earth Intent was heavy and steady, as though it bore the earth's endless power and vitality.

Yet after merely one or two thousand years, the aura around Li Zhengyuan changed once again.

At this moment, an incomparably sharp Metal Intent permeated his entire body. Its radiance was dazzling, its edge so keen that it made one's heart tremble.

Such powerful Metal Intent seemed capable of tearing through space and severing every obstacle in the world with a casual wave.

Then, after several hundred more years, Li Zhengyuan's body was suddenly enveloped by a vast Water Intent like misty waves.

This Water Intent was ever-changing. At times, it surged mightily and endlessly; at times, it flowed in gentle streams, ceaselessly renewing itself; at times, it was fierce and domineering, invincible against all things; at times, it was soft and graceful, the gentlest and weakest of all.

Another hundred years passed, and Li Zhengyuan's entire body began to emanate vigorous Wood Intent. The bare cultivation platform beneath him was instantly covered in lush green moss, while the surroundings became brimming with life.

But in the blink of an eye, that flourishing scene abruptly vanished, replaced by withering desolation and a bleak, murderous air.

Li Zhengyuan slightly opened his eyes and slowly exhaled.

Was this the Dao?

This feeling was truly wondrous beyond measure, so intoxicating that one could not pull oneself free.

It was as though time had lost its original meaning. Those long thousands of years had flashed by like a fleeting white horse.

Along this long path of cultivation, his body seemed to undergo the changes and transitions of the four seasons.

At times, a springlike warmth gently brushed over his body, bringing boundless vitality; at times, summerlike scorching energy surged into him, making his blood boil; at times, an autumnlike chill breeze quietly swept past, carrying away some of his restlessness; and at other times, winterlike frost mercilessly assailed him, tempering his will and physique.

At the same time, his Primordial Spirit was like a small boat, drifting through the vast, unfathomable Chaos. One moment, it soared upward, reaching beyond the nine heavens to touch that mysterious firmament; the next, it plunged downward into bottomless abysses, seeking the secrets hidden within the darkness.

The cycle repeated endlessly, without end.

And that boundless void was like a gentle, loving mother, constantly nourishing and nurturing the soul with her vast embrace.

It allowed it to continuously grow stronger, becoming ever purer, more powerful, and more unyielding.

What realm had he reached now?

And out of curiosity, how were cultivation realms divided?