The central hall was deathly silent. More than ten images of cause and effect slowly rotated. A waterfall was falling.
The bells are ringing. All cultivation is underway. The former prosperity of the Thoughtless Burial Domain unfolds on the walls like a real world.
Qin Yu stood calmly in the center of the hall, his gaze serene. Just then, the image on the far left suddenly trembled almost imperceptibly.
That was a picture of the cliffside city.
The white jade steps stretch endlessly, the golden dome gleams dazzlingly in the sunlight, and the river flows through the city like blue jade.
The crowd was like a surging tide. On the high platform, someone was discussing the sermon. Everything was orderly. But in the next instant...
The sky suddenly darkened for a moment. It wasn't because of dark clouds, but because the lines of cause and effect had become disordered.
Tiny cracks appeared on the surface of the river. The previously stable aura of fortune above the city suddenly distorted slightly.
In the painting, a certain avenue of light appears to be touched by some invisible force, producing subtle vibrations.
Tens of thousands of people in the city were completely unaware. But on the high platform where the sermon was being given, a cultivator sitting cross-legged suddenly opened his eyes.
His gaze wasn't fixed on the world depicted in the painting, but rather pierced straight through the canvas, looking directly into the main hall.
He looked at Qin Yu. Qin Yu's pupils contracted slightly. He clearly sensed that the gaze was not an afterimage, but genuine consciousness.
The next moment, the scroll suddenly enlarged. A very thin crack was torn open in the sky of the world depicted in the painting.
A figure slowly emerged from the crack, seemingly transcending time, cause and effect, existence and death, from the Thoughtless Burial Domain to the present.
He was an old man, dressed in a plain white robe. The robe was unadorned, yet it exuded a vast and profound Daoist aura. His hair and beard were both white.
His face was gentle, his eyes deep and unwavering. Though there was no light in them, they seemed to encompass all light. His aura was not powerful enough to shatter space.
Annihilation Formless and indescribable. All forms and all dharmas return to nothingness. Transcending emptiness, the root of all existence is severed.
Only the nothingness of Annihilation encompasses the immeasurable and unknowable. The Silent Form Realm · Supreme transcends nothingness. Beyond, beyond. This state is the Ultimate of "nothingness".
Encompassing all that is unknowable, all causal images within the main hall simultaneously came to a standstill.
The waterfall froze in mid-air. The crowd stood still. The stars paused. The old man stood before Qin Yu.
There was no oppressive force, no oppressive pressure, yet the entire hall seemed to have entered into his will.
Qin Yu's gaze turned solemn. The Nine-Wheel True Evolution Dharma Wheel in his sea of consciousness slowly rotated, yet he could not fully deduce this person. The old man spoke softly, his voice as calm as the wind.
"My name is Hua Feiwu." That's all. No more words. No greetings.
Without questioning, he slowly turned around, his white robe fluttering as if the clouds had been parted. It was in that instant he turned that...
A very hidden wall on the right side of the main hall suddenly trembled slightly. The wall had been indistinguishable from the surrounding walls.
Without patterns or gaps, it slowly rotates silently, as if a causal mechanism has been awakened, causing the stone wall to rotate and reveal what lies hidden within.
A painting. Older than all other images. More profound than all other paintings.
But the painting was completely black. There were no buildings, no people, no light, and no movement.
It was as if the entire painting itself was "nothingness." Qin Yu stared at that darkness. That darkness was not paint.
It was more like a real space, a sealed-off realm. Hua Feiwu slowly turned around.
He faced Qin Yu, his eyes calm, a Daoist aura flowing silently within him. He spoke slowly.
"The place where all paths converge." "With a single thought, all things merge." "With a single thought, all Myriad Phenomena Return to Stillness."
The sound faded, and the hall fell silent again. The dark scroll remained still.
Yet it seemed as if she was waiting for a thought, a decision. Hua Feiwu's sleeves fluttered lightly.
There were no ripples, no bursts of light, yet it was as if the causal threads of the entire hall had been gently stirred.
The Daoist aura permeating the air suddenly transformed into mist. That mist was not white.
The first streak was like the greyish-blue before dawn. The second streak was like the silvery-black of the depths of the void. The third streak was like the transparent tremor before a nascent storm.
The mist condensed before Qin Yu, slowly rotating, compressing, and stretching, forming three doors in the center of the hall.
The first fog gate was as dark as dust.
The door frame seemed to be pieced together from billions of tiny particles of light, each one like a memory that has never faded away.
Inside the doorway was not a scene, but a faint, old light. Within the light, one could vaguely discern streets and alleys, the setting sun, and the sound of the wind.
It carries the scent of the "past," yet it belongs to no known time. The facade is like still water, ripples spreading with the slightest touch.
The second fog gate was completely transparent, but it wasn't empty; rather, it was "a crack in the air."
The door frame appears to be pieced together from fragmented space, with shimmering textures of fractured dimensions between the gaps.
Inside the gate, there is no up or down, no near or far. It is just a singularity that is constantly collapsing and being regenerated, as if the entire universe is trying to be reborn within it.
The third fog gate is the quietest. It is almost invisible. Its existence can only be noticed when the eye is not looking at it.
The door frame seems to be made of flowing wind. Invisible, yet real.
Occasionally, a glimmer of light or shadow would flash through it, like a newly born thought.
Hua Feiwu stood quietly before the three gates, her voice calm and even.
"World-Tracing Dust Tribulation." "The Realm Shattering and Dimension Collapse." "The Wind Rising and Forms Arising." "You may enter." There was no oppressive force. There was no explanation.
Only endless Dao intent flowed slowly in the air. Qin Yu's gaze fell on the first gate. "Three mist gates, let me see what's inside?"
A gentle ripple of grey-blue dust light. He took a step. One step in.
The world suddenly flipped. There was no transition. No darkness. No fall. He opened his eyes. The wind whistled in his ears. In the distance, the city walls were crumbling. The setting sun stained the sky with blood.
The air was thick with the smell of scorched earth and broken blades. He stood at the entrance of an old city street, his robes slightly worn.
His cultivation was not yet fully developed. Someone behind him was calling out, "Qin Yu —run!" The voice was familiar, so familiar that it caused a slight tremor in his consciousness.
He turned around. That face, that figure, was the scene he least wanted to look back on.
That day, that moment, that fork in the road—time was not disordered, cause and effect were not broken; everything was so real that even the sensation of wind and sand falling between fingers was entirely genuine.
He can change things. With just a thought, his aura vibrates, time reverses, and he can even end the tragedy with a simple gesture.
In that instant, the whole world stood still. The setting sun hung in the sky, the wind and sand froze, and the streets and alleys Ji Ran.
Only he, and the figure calling his name, felt a faint, persistent ripple in the depths of his heart—not anger, not sorrow.
Rather, it's about "if." If I had looked a little more that day. If I had been a little stronger then. If I had chosen a different path.
A single thought arises, the world responds, a ray of light splits open in the sky, the city walls begin to rebuild, and those who have fallen will rise again.
The air began to flow backward. That speck of dust, deep within his consciousness, felt slightly warm. It wasn't an illusion; it was the embers of his own obsession.
As long as he changes, the dust will be bound to the "new obsession" and sink forever. Qin Yu slowly closed his eyes, his breathing steady. In his sea of consciousness, the Nine-Wheel True Evolution Dharma Wheel remained unmoved.
He did not use the Limitless Yuan Absorption Art. He did not shatter it with supernatural powers, nor did he suppress it with his will.
I just watched. I watched that scene unfold. I watched the tragedy repeat itself. I watched that figure fall in the wind.
The wind blew again. The blood-red sunset sank. Everything returned to normal. In that instant, he did not reach out.
There was no obstruction. No rewriting. Just a soft whisper, "The past needs no rewriting." The city streets were shrouded in mist.
Human figures turned to dust. The setting sun turned to light. The world began to collapse, but not in destruction, but in a state of receding. That speck of dust finally became docile.
It was no longer fiery. It no longer tried to tug at the mind. It transformed into a quiet, grayish-white dot of light.
It slowly settled into Qin Yu's heart, becoming "something of the past," rather than "a present obsession."
A sudden burst of mist appeared. The first hurdle passed. The mortal world vanished, Qin Yu stood once again in the void beyond the misty gate.
The second fog gate trembled slightly ahead. The Realm Shattering and Dimension Collapse were already in progress. Qin Yu did not hesitate.
He looked at the second fog gate. That gate was almost transparent.
But when you actually look up, you'll find that it's not empty space, but rather countless broken dimensional fragments slowly intersecting, like shattered mirrors floating above the abyss.
He took a step. Before his fingertips even touched it, the entire fog gate collapsed like the surface of water.
In the next instant, the world lost its direction. There was no "up," no "down," no "far," no "near."
The spot where Qin Yu stood suddenly vanished. What lay beneath his feet was not void, but a chaotic singularity where even the concept of "void" Does Not Exist.
There is no light. There is no darkness. There is no passage of time. There is no expansion of space. Even the distinction between "existence" and "Non-Existence" is erased.
He could clearly sense his name being peeled away. The two characters "Qin Yu" seemed to be torn apart by an invisible wind.
Within his sea of consciousness, fragments of memories about cultivation began to unfold. How he embarked on the path of cultivation. How he obtained the Nine-Wheel True Evolution.
How did we get to where we are today? Those images are like a torn scroll, silently burning to ashes.
Emotions begin to fade. Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness dilute into cold fragments. Even the thought of "I must get through this" begins to waver.
His Dao heart was being stripped away. He could feel that if he desperately tried to grasp at any memory, even just the thought that "I am Qin Yu,"
The soul would then crack due to the forced piecing together. That speck of dust would faintly glow deep within the consciousness, not with intense heat, but with a serene light.
The compressed state of rules and concepts is about to explode. This "concept explosion" isn't a roar, but a dismantling—a dismantling of "I," a dismantling of "the world."
He was dismantling the "cultivator." Suddenly, he was no longer a cultivator. No longer an existence. No longer a thinking being. He couldn't even say, "I am disappearing."
Because the pronoun "I" is being erased. In the midst of chaos, two tendencies are quietly taking shape.
Grasp it. Grasp that last remaining trace of memory. Reconstruct your cognition.
Reconstructing one's identity requires only a single thought; he can piece together a new "self" from the shattered fragments.
Second, abandon. Since all things are illusory, then let them dissipate. Let the soul merge with the Wind of Realm Breaking, and return to formlessness forever.
Both tendencies were growing silently, without sound or thought, only a trend. Qin Yu did not intervene.
He did not abandon it. He did not try to retrieve his name, nor did he seek his Dao Heart, nor did he even confront the explosion. The Nine-Wheel True Evolution Dharma Wheel remained unturned.
The Limitless Yuan Absorption Art had not yet been activated. He let the fragments scatter, let memories crumble, let cognition disintegrate. He was not passive.
Instead, it allows. It allows chaos to flow. It allows self-destruction. But it doesn't erect monuments within it. There's no "I must remain conscious."
There is no "I must persevere." Even the concept of "perseverance" is not established. In that absolute chaotic singularity...
Time has lost its scale. Space has lost its direction. Existence has lost its definition. We don't know how much time has passed. Perhaps there hasn't even been a "time" at all.
The chaotic flow began to weaken. The dust particle dissolved at its deepest point, no longer an explosion, but a single point.
A singularity, an origin, trembled slightly. Invisibly, the first "boundary" was created. It was not space.
Rather, it is a "possibility" that is allowed to exist. Then comes the second and third stages. It is not the return of memories, nor the reorganization of the Dao heart.
It is a rebirth. He does not reclaim himself, but allows himself to emerge naturally from the chaos.
There was no attachment, no obsession. It simply existed. That speck of dust fell completely still, no longer exploding. It became the origin.
Become the first wisp of order after the world shatters. Second stage - Passed.
Outside the hall, Hua Feiwu stood deep in the void. He did not reveal himself, but his gaze pierced through the fog gate, seeing Qin Yu's changes within the chaotic singularity.
His gaze was calm yet profound. He saw Qin Yu's name dissipate, and he saw Qin Yu's Dao Heart crack.
He saw those two tendencies flash by. He had thought the other party would seize on the word "Realm Breaking" at the last moment.
Anchored by the Dao Heart. But Qin Yu did not. He did not anchor, did not reconstruct, and did not even stabilize with supernatural powers.
He let everything flow by, let the world come into being. A glimmer of light flashed in Hua Feiwu's eyes, and the Daoist aura of the Mystic Void Realm · Supreme gently rippled.
"Non-attachment." "Non-abandonment." "Boundless Realm yet giving rise to boundaries." He saw Qin Yu's newly formed consciousness as the universe at its inception.
There are no traces of the past, no obsessions, yet a trace of pure self-awareness remains. It is not a "self" that is forcibly retained, but a "being" that arises naturally.
Hua Feiwu slowly closed his eyes. His breath deepened slightly, not out of disappointment, but out of acceptance.
"The Realm Shattering and Dimension Collapse." "It has not collapsed." The third fog gate in the hall has begun to tremble slightly.