Dense fog, a barren expanse.
A thatched hut, a dying lamp, a faint, eerie glow.
Everything before their eyes was profoundly bizarre.
Qin Ming stared at the dim, human-shaped lantern, his heart shaken. It looked remarkably like Old Man Liu!
How was that possible? One was in a remote little village far away, while the other was in Kunling, a place steeped in myth and legend. There should not have been any connection or intersection between the two.
Qin Ming thought this had to be an accidental resemblance.
Old Man Liu was just an ordinary old villager; how could he possibly have left traces here?
Wu Yaozu stepped forward. Suddenly, the dying lamp flickered near extinction, and the thatched hut blurred.
"Huh? An illusion?" He halted in his tracks.
Qin Ming was taken aback. Everything had seemed so real just a moment ago—why was it suddenly about to dissipate?
He took two steps forward, and in a flash, the dilapidated thatched hut reappeared, the dying lamp rekindled, and everything became distinct once more.
The two exchanged glances. Was this place both real and illusory?
Xiao Wu moved forward again, and sure enough, the scene dimmed instantly.
Qin Ming sensed something. The instant he took a step forward, everything became clearly visible again.
"What kind of wretched place is this? It even treats people differently—it's downright discriminating against me!" Xiao Wu grumbled indignantly.
"Brother Ming, you walk in front." Taking the hint, he fell in behind Qin Ming.
Sure enough, as they advanced this way, even when they brushed their hands against the thatched hut or touched the faintly glowing lantern, the scenery did not vanish.
Xiao Wu's gaze shifted, and he said, "Brother Ming, you called me a child of the barren land—don't tell me you're my neighbor, some kind of child of the baleful ground?"
He found it eerie beyond reason; the sights here actually recognized who was approaching.
Qin Ming remained silent, carefully inspecting everything around him.
The thatched hut was old, but far from rotting away. Given its materials, it seemed that after its construction, it had not endured the washing and erosion of immense stretches of time.
"A baleful ground shrouded in thick fog, where all kinds of sha are gravely harmful to the body... Who could have lived in seclusion here?" Qin Ming felt this place was completely unfit for prolonged habitation.
Inside the thatched hut stood an aged desk bearing paper, brushes, and ink. There was no dust upon them; it seemed as if the occupant had departed not long ago.
Qin Ming stepped forward at once to look closer.
He did not recognize the characters written on the paper. They looked like phoenix seal script—intricate and belonging to an extraordinarily ancient script.
However, a remnant mental imprint radiated directly from the sheets, allowing one to grasp their meaning.
"Treading the mortal world anew, yet uncertain what year it is; even an unheard-of Wu Dynasty has already reached its decline..."
Qin Ming was dazed. Inks and writings from the end of the Wu Dynasty? That was clearly over five hundred years ago!
By that count, the thatched hut had stood for quite some time, yet materials prone to decay had not rotted away.
"Brother Ming, the lantern has bloodstains on its back. Is this really made of paper?" Xiao Wu reached out to feel it, only to find that although the lantern's material was as thin as a cicada's wing, its texture was delicate and smooth, remarkably like skin.
As if jolted by electricity, he jerked his hand back with a whoosh.
"Grandmother above, immeasurable longevity and blessings!" Wu Yaozu babbled under his breath.
Qin Ming stepped to the doorway and scrutinized the human-shaped lantern. It looked somewhat younger than Old Man Liu, mainly because its hair was jet-black and its complexion ruddy, lacking the weathered weariness of Old Liu.
The bloodstained part was on the back of this "Old Man Liu," where a crack split open like the molt of a cicada, marked by mottled stains of blackened blood.
Having examined it, Qin Ming reentered the thatched hut to read the phoenix seal script on the rough paper.
"Outside Yujing, I unexpectedly beheld one with seven overlapping suns wandering about, and was profoundly astonished."
Seeing this, Qin Ming was thoroughly shaken.
In the present day, once one reached the end of the Newborn path, forces like the Tathagata force and Yuqing force were similar to the Six Imperials force—halting there, unable to expand further.
Meanwhile, the outer realm had never ceased pioneering new ground. In theory, they had expanded to the initial stage of seven overlapping suns, but putting it into practice was exceedingly difficult, and supposedly only a few old monsters had managed to set one foot across that threshold.
Yet five hundred years ago, there had already been someone with seven overlapping suns?
Qin Ming could not calm his thoughts and hurriedly read on.
"With seven overlapping suns perfected, its brilliant light dispels the sea of night mist; not far from the grand spectacle of eight suns spanning the sky!" The writer was clearly astonished.
Qin Ming and Xiao Wu exchanged a glance, deeply shaken in their hearts.
One had to realize that in the current era, the Seven Imperials force had not yet appeared, while the state of seven overlapping suns was still being verified and explored, without a single perfected form.
In truth, the ancient past should have been the same.
For those who possessed the Six Imperials force, or those with six overlapping suns, had already reached a level where they could transform into godkin creatures or immortal-adjacent beings.
This "transformation" involved drastic metamorphosis and immense change!
One could even say that doing so was equivalent to switching paths.
From human to god, from human to immortal—it was practically a change of species.
Some were willing to take such a path, but there were also patriarchs who fiercely resisted it, unwilling to step foot onto it, believing their original path was not yet exhausted and that they should not leap out of their own race.
"The people of today surpass the ancients. If one who has perfected seven overlapping suns becomes a god, to what level would they transform?" The author of the notes seemed deeply moved.
Qin Ming turned the page. More seal script followed, seemingly jotted down casually by the master of this place.
"This..." Xiao Wu was astounded as well, for the planes the writer mentioned were realms currently beyond their reach.
The text briefly noted that even among godkin creatures, the disparity was immense. For instance, the Night Patrol God was dismissed by the master of this abode as a mere lesser god.
The brushwork on the paper was forceful and sweeping like flying dragons and dancing phoenixes, yet the recorded thoughts were rather scattered.
He also mentioned Earth Gods, and spoke further of Heavenly Gods, the latter possessing achievements so astonishing they were terrifying.
According to what was written, those with great achievements must have traveled exceptionally far along their original paths.
At the same time, he drew a comparison, clearly pointing out that on the immortal path there were also lesser immortals whose strength was inadequate.
And on the sheets, he naturally mentioned Earth Immortals as well as those of even higher attainment, such as Heavenly Immortals dwelling within grotto-heavens.
"I observe the later generations: those who followed came close to immortalhood yet did not become immortals, ultimately seeking authenticity. Their path is likely the right one, showing even greater courage and resolve than the ancients."
The master of this place was surprised yet gratified by the developments of later ages.
In the writer's view, the farther one traveled along their original path, the greater their achievements would be when they ultimately metamorphosed into a god or transformed into an immortal.
In particular, when he saw that someone in later ages had pushed along the original path to the threshold of eight overlapping suns, his spirit was stirred all the more.
"Among the two kinds of beings—gods and immortals—only those of great achievement can still pioneer new paths ahead. Lesser gods and lesser immortals suffer from various flaws, remaining stuck in place for the rest of their days."
Toward the end, the notes grew somewhat hurried and scrawled, reflecting the author's state of mind.
"In this life, though I have a Dao to pursue, I often yearn for the path I came from, wishing to restore my original form." When the seal script reached this point, one could imagine the turbulent emotions churning within the master's heart.
Qin Ming only resonated with it slightly, yet nearly tumbled headlong to the ground, suffering a severe shock.
He stopped probing deeper, for there was no additional information, only the intensifying continuation of the sentiments expressed in the words.
Having read this far, how could the two fail to realize just how exalted the thatched hut's master had been?
"This must have been an ancient god or an old immortal!" Wu Yaozu said excitedly.
The notes were not yet finished. Further down, the writer recorded that after careful observation, he found that the one with perfected seven overlapping suns hailed from the depths of the night mist world, not from this realm.
That extraordinary outsider, along with several disciples, had been stranded here accidentally by a terrifying divine magnetic storm, and was actively seeking a way home.
Viewed this way, the night mist world was truly boundless; even beings such as gods and immortals likely had never explored its ends.
Yet this was understandable. After all, many patriarch-level figures of the present era did not hold immortals in high regard, believing they could already stand shoulder to shoulder with them, each possessing their own confidence.
If patriarchs could not reach the end of exploration, then even if ancient gods and old immortals surpassed them, the gap would not be absurdly vast.
Xiao Wu pondered aloud, "In the depths of the night mist world, could there be kingdoms even vaster than ours, with cultivation systems far more glorious?"
Qin Ming did not answer, turning the page to keep reading.
"I often lament that even Heavenly Gods and Heavenly Immortals are like kites with severed strings, prone to losing their way in the vast sea of night, doomed to the peril of falling in blood—all have a lifespan!"
These words left Qin Ming momentarily dazed. Looking closely into their implications was utterly terrifying; the more he pondered them, the more his heart trembled.
"I wish to seek my original path, to restore my original form!" This intense longing radiated through the paper, unscattered even after five hundred years.
Xiao Wu asked suspiciously, "For old gods and ancient immortals, it's understandable that their original path changed. But with species shifting, could their bodies have become completely different from the past? What do gods and immortals really look like?"
"The agony of flaying skin, the grief of scraping bone—even gods and immortals can scarcely endure. Pain, pain..."
This line of characters bore bloodstains. The master of this place had been resolute and ruthless enough toward himself; wanting to return to a human form, he had spared no brutality upon his own flesh.
"Brother Ming, do you think that human-shaped paper lantern outside could be his skin?" Xiao Wu asked.
Qin Ming did not reply, staring in a trance at the scrawled characters that followed.
"Bloodstained, I ride the wind back to meet the original me." These words were nearly covered in blood, only faintly visible.
All this pieced together sent a chill rising from the bottom of Qin Ming's heart, for it bore a striking resemblance to the kite theory of the secluded Li clan.
That person had departed. Even if he had once been a Heavenly God, had he ultimately plummeted toward some corner of the earth like a bloodstained kite?
Qin Ming looked at the human-shaped lantern once more. Was it truly a coincidence of appearance, or did it share some connection with that old acquaintance?
Thinking carefully, much did not match up. This was an affair from five hundred years ago.
Furthermore, this individual had undoubtedly been an extraordinary deity or old immortal.
Old Man Liu was in his seventies; the timeline of his birth did not match.
He had lived a life of hardship, wandering through snow and ice as a child without knowing who his parents were, nearly freezing to death. After losing his memory from a severe illness, he drifted to Twin Trees Village and was adopted. His life was plagued with endless bad luck, missing opportunities to change his fate multiple times, and even into old age, he had only undergone Newborn thrice.
What was more, his final rebirth had been thanks to Qin Ming.
"I regret this. For gods and immortals to return to being human is too difficult, let alone for a higher god. This is a fatal tribulation. I record this experience; only those bound to me by good karma may enter this place."
Reading up to this point, Xiao Wu's eyes widened. He leaned in close, scrutinizing Qin Ming and comparing him to the human-shaped lantern, and said, "Brother Ming, could this be your past-life incarnation?"
"What on earth are you thinking!" Qin Ming shoved him aside.
The notes reached this point, also mentioning that behind the thatched hut, certain "things" had been left for those who came after, which could be retrieved with caution.
Between the lines on the paper, warnings persisted that the area behind the hut was anomalous, connecting to a legendary place.
"The human path is not yet exhausted; one must press forward with vigor and not hasten to become a spirit or god. Not even a Heavenly Immortal would I trade it for... Escaping from Yujing was by no means easy..."
This was the final passage, rather fragmented. The master of this place had abandoned his brush in haste, and there it ended.
Chapter 256