However, as they reached the site, all that remained was a heap of blackened timber leveled to the ground. The rocking chair Zhi Xuan usually used had been shattered into small splinters, burnt beyond recognition.

  "No... It's impossible..." Nalan Shu collapsed onto the still-hot earth. She crawled through the debris of the workshop, her fingers digging wildly through the ash. "Uncle! Uncle Zhi! Answer me!"

  Nalan Yu knelt beside his sister, his shoulders shaking violently. Tears streamed down, washing streaks through the soot on his cheeks. "He was just a mortal... He was old... Why did they do this? Why couldn't they let an old man die in peace?!"

  "Uncle Zhi!" Nalan Yu roared toward the heavens, his voice filled with a grief sharp enough to lacerate the soul. "You promised you wouldn't disappear! You said you would stay here! Why did you let yourself be buried in a place like this?!"

  Their sobs filled the silence of the dead village. In their eyes, Zhi Xuan’s frail, elderly body must have evaporated into ash under the weight of the devastating mantras that destroyed the village. For them, the last hope of having a family had vanished along with the collapse of the workshop.

  Yet, amidst their heart-wrenching lament, a voice so familiar—a voice possessing a calm like a deep lake untouched by storms—sounded right behind them. "Why do you weep for dust that has returned to its origin?"

  Nalan Shu and Nalan Yu flinched simultaneously. They turned with stiff movements, their hearts nearly stopping. There stood a man. He was no longer the stooped old man with wrinkled skin. He stood tall in a black-and-white robe that radiated an indescribable majesty.

  His long, deep purple hair shimmered in the wind, and his eyes... those sapphire eyes gazed at them with a gentleness that surpassed human age. Zhi Xuan reached out both hands, holding the shoulders of Nalan Shu and Nalan Yu with extreme tenderness. The touch did not feel like the rough hands of a craftsman, but like the touch of pure natural law.

  "U-Uncle?" Nalan Shu whispered, her eyes widening. She felt a spiritual energy so vast and bottomless radiating from the figure before her—an aura that made even their Sect Master look like a grain of sand before a giant mountain. "Uncle... are you an Immortal?"

  Nalan Yu trembled, his tongue tied. He realized that the man he had considered an old woodworker for decades was actually a dragon hiding behind the dust. "So... you never truly aged? All of this... these fifty years..."

  Zhi Xuan smiled thinly, a smile that carried peace but also a profound parting. "Those fifty years were the truest honesty I have ever possessed. I did not lie when I said you both were the water that extinguished the fire within me."

  "Uncle Zhi, if you are this powerful, why did you let Cangyun Village be destroyed?" Nalan Shu’s cries broke out again as she clutched the edge of Zhi Xuan’s shimmering robe. "Don't go... Please, don't leave us again."

  Zhi Xuan crouched, bringing himself to the level of his two mortal proteges. "Shu, Yu... every meeting under this sky has an end. I have finished carving wood in this village. Now, I must return to carving destiny in a distant place."

  He looked at their foreheads, his face appearing luminous beneath the thinning remains of the smoke. "You have pure hearts. Do not let the cultivation world turn you into cold stones. Remember the scent of wood dust, remember the warmth of ginger porridge, and remember that death is merely a finished stitch."

  "Uncle! Wait!" Yu tried to reach for Zhi Xuan’s hand, but his body felt incredibly heavy, as if the entire world were lulling him to sleep.

  "Sleep," Zhi Xuan whispered. "When you wake, you will be in a safe place. Walk your path with steadfastness."

  Zhi Xuan touched the tips of his fingers to the foreheads of Nalan Shu and Nalan Yu simultaneously. Instantly, a soft sapphire light enveloped their vision. Their consciousness faded, but in their final seconds, they heard Zhi Xuan’s voice echoing like a craftsman’s final prayer.

  When the sun reached its zenith, Nalan Shu and Nalan Yu woke with a start. They found themselves leaning against the main gate of their Sect, hundreds of miles away from the ruins of Cangyun Village. The sect atmosphere was tranquil; disciples were practicing swords in the distance, as if the apocalypse they witnessed that morning were merely a long nightmare.

  However, when Nalan Shu opened her fist, she found a cultivation scroll made of very ancient beast hide. Beside the scroll, Nalan Yu found a small wooden carving of a tiger kneeling and gazing at the moon—a replica of the work Zhi Xuan once made for Master Lu, but this time the wood radiated a warmth capable of calming the turbulence of spiritual essence within his body.

  Nalan Shu opened the scroll with trembling hands. There were no complex characters or heaven-destroying mantras inside. There were only ink strokes forming patterns of interlocking wood grains, a pattern known as the Law of Inner Calming. Below it, a short sentence was written in sharp yet fluid calligraphy:

  "Cultivation is not about how high you climb the heavens, but how deep you are able to plant your roots in the mortal earth. Guard your humanity, for it is the only light that will not flicker out when the night of reincarnation arrives."

  "Uncle..." Nalan Shu pressed the scroll to her chest, her weeping now silent, filled with an understanding that had just bloomed within her soul.

  Meanwhile, hundreds of miles from the sect gate, atop a hill overlooking the still-smoking ruins of Cangyun Village, the purple-haired man stood tall. The cold mountain wind played with the edges of his black-and-white robe, but the aura he radiated had transformed completely. There was no longer the fragility of an old body; what remained was an existence that seemed to merge with the rules of the universe.

  "Weaver Transformation," Zhi Xuan said, his voice now cold again, but with a calmer depth. "I will see Xishui first before seeking a place of seclusion to break through."

  Zhi Xuan turned his body, leaving the shadow of Cangyun Village behind his back. His goal was one: the third peak of the Heavenly Leaf Sacred Pavilion. The place where the purest celestial essence gathered, and where the Holy Fairy now secluded herself in solitary glory.

  At the third peak, the air felt incredibly pure and refreshing; light snow fell like swan feathers from heaven. In the midst of that breathtaking expanse stood an open, green, and blooming pavilion, surrounded by immaculate leaves that bloomed only once in a thousand seasons.

  Ye Xishui sat cross-legged in the center of the pavilion. She wore robes as green as nature and as clear as water. Her eyes were closed, her face as white as alabaster, radiating a sanctity so bright it almost hurt the eyes of anyone who beheld her.

  However, in the quietest depths of her soul, a subtle vibration appeared. Instantly, Ye Xishui’s eyes snapped open. Her beautiful pupils softened. She felt a presence—not a foreign energy trying to breach the Sacred Pavilion's protective formation, but a resonance of karma.

  "Senior..." Ye Xishui whispered, her voice cracking in the silence.

  She stood gracefully, her elegant steps bringing her to the edge of the crystal balcony. In the distance, amidst the churning sea of clouds, a deep purple shadow appeared. The figure walked calmly atop the void, parting the heavenly mist with an aura so powerful yet so familiar to her senses.

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  Zhi Xuan landed on the pavilion courtyard with absolute silence. There was no sound of footsteps, no disturbed gust of wind; his presence seemed to be an inherent part of the natural laws on that peak. His black-and-white robe swept across the cold marble floor, creating a sharp contrast with Ye Xishui’s heavenly green robes.

  Ye Xishui froze, her slender fingers clutching the crystal balcony railing until they turned pale. She stared at the figure before her—no longer the faint shadow she had met seven full moons ago, but a man who had washed his soul in the dust of mortality for fifty years.

  "You have returned," Ye Xishui’s voice trembled, a single drop of clear dew welling in the corner of her melancholic eyes. "But... your inner self feels different, Senior."

  Zhi Xuan stepped closer, stopping exactly at the edge of the sacred aura radiated by Ye Xishui’s body. His sapphire eyes gazed at the Holy Fairy’s face, searching for remnants of the warmth they once shared under the moonlight.

  "For fifty years I was dust at the foot of Yao Gu, Xishui," Zhi Xuan’s voice was low, carrying a vibration that made the surrounding immaculate leaves chime softly. "I learned that to weave the heavens, one must first understand what it feels like to be crushed into the earth. Now, I am one step away from determining my Domain."

  Ye Xishui stepped forward, letting her green robes sweep the marble floor with a soft rustle like the whisper of flowing water. She no longer cared for the etiquette of sanctity she usually upheld before the elders of the Sacred Pavilion. Before Zhi Xuan, she was merely a drop of dew longing for the vastness of the ocean.

  "To become earth..." Ye Xishui stopped right in front of Zhi Xuan, looking up at him. "Senior, it is no wonder Xishui feels that you have reached a higher level. Xishui is very happy for the achievement of the man who is her Dao Protector."

  "Xishui, I have come not just to show my achievement," Zhi Xuan said, his voice containing a depth capable of piercing layers of clouds. "I will return to Xing Luo after forging my Weaver Transformation. I have unresolved matters."

  Ye Xishui was stunned for a moment before nodding faintly, her face remaining somber yet holy. "Xing Luo... Xishui understands Senior wishes to return to his homeland. Xishui believes that Senior will go much further, and when that time comes, Xishui is willing to walk with Senior, overstepping the Great Path."

  "Holy Fairy," Zhi Xuan said, clasping his hands in front of him, acting as a Dao Protector. "I am your Dao Protector. I will surely fulfill the promise to protect your Dao with this bond."

  Zhi Xuan gazed at Ye Xishui in silence for a long time, letting the mountain wind carrying pure snowflakes blow between them. He turned and looked at the sky above the third peak, the vast horizon where clouds marched like an unending line of heavenly soldiers.

  "The Great Path, the Emperor’s Path," Zhi Xuan said without turning, yet his voice carried an immense weight. "The sky is so vast and high; no one knows whether what we see now will live or die. However, this Zhi promises that one day, I will bring the Holy Fairy toward Immortality."

  Ye Xishui stood behind him, maintaining a distance of one step as a form of respect for the inner boundaries Zhi Xuan had just fortified. She no longer tried to touch or draw closer.

  "Xishui understands, Senior," she replied with a voice once again clear, as pure as mountain water. She clasped her hands in front of her chest, bowing in a gesture of sincere respect. "Senior's presence here, though but for a moment, has realigned the inner vibrations of Xishui that had grown wavering."

  Zhi Xuan turned his body slowly. His black-and-white robe no longer radiated oppressive pressure, but an absolute tranquility. He looked at Ye Xishui for the last time in this meeting—a gaze that held mutual respect between two practitioners who had surpassed worldly limits.

  "Take good care of yourself, Holy Fairy," Zhi Xuan said softly.

  With a wave of his hand, the sapphire essence around him exploded gently, creating ripples in the void. Without any further parting words, Zhi Xuan’s body slowly faded, merging with the sharp mountain wind.

  Ye Xishui remained in her bow until Zhi Xuan’s aura had completely vanished from her senses. When she looked up, the pavilion courtyard was empty, leaving only a single immaculate leaf fallen on the marble floor where Zhi Xuan had stood. She picked up the leaf, staring at it with a gaze that was calm yet full of resolve.

  "Go, Senior," Ye Xishui whispered, her fingers closing slowly, clutching the leaf right over her heartbeat. "Xishui believes only someone like Senior is worthy of carrying her."

  Meanwhile, far from the sanctity of the Heavenly Leaf Sacred Pavilion, a purple shadow split the horizon like a burning flash of lightning. Zhi Xuan no longer hid his full power. Every inch of air he passed through vibrated violently, forcing the beasts in the Yao Gu forests to bow down.

  He did not rush, but rather searched for a safe place to seclude himself. He landed with a low thud at the border of the Western Region and the Forsaken Region. He looked down; there were low-level practitioners wearing the robes of major sects, none of whom had reached Weaver Transformation.

  "Weaver Transformation," Zhi Xuan muttered in the air, his voice carried by the wind. "Truly rare in the Western Region. Without pure understanding, they are trapped by this oppressive Heavenly Law."

  "If I wish to return to Xing Luo," Zhi Xuan sighed softly. "Then I need information about the Star-Heaven Gate. However, if I return to the center, I will only encounter the Holy Woman of Yao Gu and Sage Qing Xuan. That is not ideal given my reputation."

  "Going south might be right, but that region is building a pure beginning after I left," Zhi Xuan continued, staring at the border of the Forsaken Region. "North, I would meet the Soul-Devouring Demon Sect; I don't have time to fight. The Forsaken Region... this is one of the seven regions of Yao Gu, a narrow place where small sects reside. Interesting."

  Zhi Xuan let his body float low, tracing the border line that separated the splendor of the Western Region from the gloom of the Forsaken Region. Below him, parched land and forests filled with grey mist began to appear. This region was a refuge for those who had failed to compete—a nest for small sects and cramped territories.

  "The Forsaken Region... even the Heavenly Leaf Sacred Pavilion does not seal its territory from here," Zhi Xuan murmured. He felt that the pressure of the heavenly laws was looser. "Great Saint, why do you think the Pavilion does not seal their holy territory from the forsaken land?"

  "The Forsaken Region is but a bag of ash in their eyes," Ruo Xianxue’s voice sounded sharp, resonating in Zhi Xuan’s consciousness. "To the practitioners of Yao Gu, this place is waste. Why seal a door that only leads to a trash heap? However, it is precisely within this pile of ash that the most difficult embers to extinguish often reside."

  Zhi Xuan landed with the softness of a falling feather on a stretch of rocky ground. He stepped across the border, and instantly felt a striking difference. If the air in the Western Region felt like electrified silk, here it felt heavy, filled with the scent of sulfur and the despair of practitioners whose cultivation bases had stagnated for hundreds of years.

  He walked along a path overgrown with black thorny bushes. In the distance, he saw a small sect perched on a steep cliff. The buildings looked drab, with banners torn by the wind. There were no coiling dragons or dancing phoenixes; there was only the somber aura of low-realm practitioners trying to survive.

  "Interesting," Zhi Xuan murmured. His sapphire eyes caught a strange vibration of energy from the direction of the valley below the cliff. "The southern region is too good to be compared to this. I can forge my Laws here in peace."

  He faded into a shadow and reappeared atop a hill, on a flat rock right beneath the shade of a large tree. Below him were small mortal villages; this was what he sought. To seclude himself to solidify his Weaver Transformation without the interference of other practitioners.

  Zhi Xuan sat cross-legged on the flat rock, its surface eroded by thousands of years of rain and heat. Under the shade of that old, moss-covered tree, he let his gaze sweep over the mortal village in the valley below. It was much smaller and poorer than Cangyun; the roofs were made of rotting thatch, and the kitchen smoke curled up thinly, indicating a scarcity of food.

  However, for Zhi Xuan, this was the perfect place for purification. The gloom of the forsaken region acted as a natural cover for the glow of his essence.

  "The pillars of Weaver Transformation are not built upon golden thrones, but upon the awareness of fragility," Zhi Xuan whispered. He placed the Heavenly Sword across his lap, closed his eyes, and began his seclusion.

  A thick silence began to creep from the pores of the earth, enveloping Zhi Xuan’s body in a cocoon of transparent essence. Beneath the shade of the old tree, whose branches arched like giant protecting fingers, the Southern Devil began to turn the wheel of his destiny once more. Zhi Xuan’s mind slowly dived into the ocean of his inner self.

  "What is Reincarnation? What is Life and Death?" Zhi Xuan murmured, stepping upon the sea of his consciousness. "Reincarnation is everything that turns to return or to become. Six Paths, Six Reincarnations."

  Zhi Xuan dropped himself into the sea of his consciousness, closing his eyes just like his physical ones. Before the Devil’s Tree of Life, Ruo Xianxue stood with her dual pupils of Sun and Moon, her nine tails of darkness glowing softly as she watched Zhi Xuan. She saw that the boy she had once considered a withered stalk hundreds of years ago was now someone who would control his own private laws through a Domain.