In the Supreme Heavenly Realm, atop the Judgment Throne.
Yang Jian slumped in the throne, his nine divine eyes half-open. He looked as if he had been left out in the sun all day.
The throne was vast enough to hold an entire star, yet he had curled up in one corner, his knees nearly touching his chin.
A Heavenly Venerable, one of the mightiest beings in all the Heavens, sat there without a shred of dignity, holding a cup of Coca-Cola...
"If someone had summoned me back when I had my old temper, I'd have split their continent apart with one slash."
He spoke suddenly, his lazy voice drifting through the empty Divine Hall. There was nothing in it but him, not even a pillar. He was talking to himself.
"Back when Yang Wei and Li Yi were traveling together on the Profound Immortal Continent, I got so angry I split an entire continent apart. Land, mountains, sea—all of it, cut in two with one slash. My temper was awful then. One word I didn't like, and out came my blade."
He looked down at his hand. Golden divine patterns wound around his fingers, flickering in and out.
The patterns were intricate. Each one marked a road he had traveled.
Yang Jian's path, the Ghost Child's path, the Ancient God's path, the path that had brought him here—all of them were etched into those hands.
"Yang Wei told me back then, 'Your temper's too explosive. You'll get yourself into trouble sooner or later.' I said, 'Then I'll get into trouble. Who's afraid?' Li Yi told me later, 'Once your temper flares, you stop caring about anything else.' I said, 'Why worry so much? Once I've cut it down, it's done.'"
He gave a short laugh, almost a snort.
"Looking