The Emperor Race tribe sprawled across a thousand miles, its stone dwellings scattered throughout the land.
Inside a towering stone house, an old man with white hair and beard, his face covered in wrinkles, sat cross-legged in midair, a foot above the ground. His head was exceptionally large, especially his forehead, where a great bulge protruded. Though clearly strange, it did not seem jarring upon closer inspection.
Before him stood a small mortar like a vat, seemingly carved from ordinary bluestone, without any unusual signs.
The pestle, however, was anything but ordinary. It seemed condensed from golden light, possessing form but no substance. It slowly pounded down, then slowly rose again, repeating without end.
Deep within the mortar, a river of stars flowed. Countless stars were smashed into dust by the pestle, ground into pulp, and transformed into glittering starlight liquid—exquisitely beautiful, yet concealing immense danger.
The medicinal power of that stellar river surged violently, as though it could overturn mountains and seas, constantly rushing upward. Yet whenever it rose even slightly, it was smashed and pressed back down by the pestle.
The old man had originally kept his eyes tightly shut. Suddenly, he opened them and turned toward the outside of the house.
A kindly smile appeared on the old man's face. "Interesting."
The old man's eyes glimmered faintly.
In one eye, all stars perished; in the other, a thousand worlds were reborn.
Within the tribe, numerous young Half-Sages and young Great Sages slowly rose into the air. Before long, dozens of Half-Sages and Great Sages looked toward Fang Yun.
The Time Tornado passed through Fang Yun and swiftly returned behind Di Lan.
Di Lan was still stunned.
Yet Fang Yun seemed unaware of everything. His eyes were vacant, slowly taking on a blue-white hue, like the eastern sky