Chapter Nineteen: Tempering the Heart in the Realm of Emotion, Returning to the Primeval Wilderness

Seated high above the Ninth Heaven, Chenxing closed his eyes, attuning himself to the sorrowful partings and reunions of all living beings in the Realm of Emotions.

A man was speeding through the sky, heading swiftly in a single direction. Decades had passed since he parted from his beloved. Were it not for the path of cultivation he had found, he would no longer exist. But what of the woman waiting at home? As he flew, he murmured, “Xiaoyun, wait for me. Please, wait for me. The war is over—I’m coming home…”

Chenxing swept his divine consciousness toward the man’s hometown. There, atop a solitary hillside overgrown with wild grass, a lone grave stood, as if gazing into the distance, awaiting the return of its master.

On another mountain summit, a woman stood, gazing down at a dilapidated thatched cottage halfway up the slope, her face streaked with tears. She whispered, “Wen, I made it back alive. But where are you?”

Her beloved had lost his legs in the war and could no longer fight. Without hesitation, she had taken his place on the battlefield. Now, having survived and returned to the home they once shared, she found only emptiness.

Chenxing understood. The man she sought was just below the cliff beside her—he had chosen to end his life there after she left, wishing never again to burden the one he loved.

Such tragedies were all too common in this world.

With a sigh, Chenxing refrained from interfering. Only a world that knows sorrow and joy, partings and reunions, the full spectrum of sweet and bitter, can be truly perfect. With the Six Paths of Reincarnation, those with fate will meet again—there is no need to force matters. Besides, such intervention would do nothing to temper his own heart.

Ten thousand years passed in the blink of an eye as Chenxing witnessed countless souls entwined by love and loss, scene by scene, life and death.

One day, as he immersed himself in the myriad flavors of mortal existence to hone his heart, a sudden tremor jolted him from his meditation. Sensing with his divine will, he frowned in anger: That accursed thing dares set its sights on Little Demon.

But, finding that Little Demon was not in immediate danger, Chenxing was not overly concerned. Though the laws of heaven had granted this world a path of cultivation, there were no natural treasures to aid those who cultivated the Way of Emotion. Since he had already drawn this world into the Hongmeng Tower as a future sanctuary for his family, he could not ignore the matter.

After a moment’s thought, he summoned several plants from the earth below. With a wave of his hand, he scattered their seeds across famous mountains and great rivers. Smiling faintly, he vanished from the Realm of Emotions.

From then on, rare plants began to appear in the remote mountains and vast marshes. Those who found and consumed them discovered they could deepen their understanding of the Dao of Passion. Over time, a new profession arose in this world: the Spiritual Botanist.

Spiritual Botanists specialized in seeking out and cultivating these extraordinary plants, enabling cultivators to progress rapidly. Eventually, this led to the emergence of saints in this world.

...

Within the primordial chaos, Chenxing gazed upon the Great Desolate World he had not visited for tens of thousands of years, filled with emotion.

On Earth, a few decades span nearly an entire lifetime. Yet in the world of cultivation, a single meditation can last thousands or tens of thousands of years—something mortals on Earth could scarcely imagine.

His ten millennia of seclusion in the Realm of Emotions had tempered his heart somewhat, but it was a mere drop in the ocean compared to what he sought. How could he ever truly perfect his heart? The question plagued him. His return to Earth and reunion with his family seemed as distant as ever.

He sighed, shook his head, and let go of such thoughts—better to let things unfold as they may.

He then sealed his cultivation back to the realm of the Great Dao Saint and, with a flicker, returned to the Primordial World.

Mount Buzhou, within the domain of Fuxi and Nuwa. Fuxi sat sighing while Nuwa earnestly tried to persuade a stunning young woman in white, “Little Demon, let’s return to Fangzhang Island. When Brother Chenxing returns, he will make things right for you.” The maiden in white merely shook her head, silent and stubborn.

This young woman was none other than Little Demon. After tens of thousands of years of arduous cultivation on Fangzhang Island with Nuwa and Fuxi, exchanging insights and occasionally debating the Dao with the quasi-saint Hongjun, she had progressed from the mid-stage Golden Immortal to the initial Quasi-Saint stage in mere millennia—a feat that astonished even Nuwa and Fuxi, who had only reached mid Quasi-Saint after the same length of time.

Little Demon’s origins were not remarkable; she was a common innate being. Ordinarily, such a soul would require dozens of yuanhui to reach the Quasi-Saint realm on her own. A yuanhui spans 129,600 years, and yet she had not even cultivated for one yuanhui since gaining form.

Having reached the Quasi-Saint realm, Little Demon could finally shift her appearance from that of a child to a maiden whose beauty rivaled Nuwa’s own.

Delighted, she resolved to show her brother her new self and insisted that Nuwa and Fuxi accompany her out from Fangzhang Island to search for him in the Primordial World.

Nuwa and Fuxi, having not returned to their domain for tens of thousands of years, decided to visit their old grounds. Upon arrival, they discovered that the vast region around Mount Buzhou had been seized by the Qilin clan. Fortunately, their domain had been hidden by a great formation when they left.

As the three of them climbed Mount Buzhou, they were surrounded by a group of Qilin clan members intent on capturing them. In anger, the trio defeated their assailants without taking lives—after all, the three great clans were powerful, and they wished to avoid unnecessary trouble.

Unexpectedly, among those they defeated was Qi Bei, the young chief of the Qilin clan. No sooner had they returned to their domain than Qi Bei led a host of Qilin experts to seek revenge.

Since the trio had not reactivated the protective formation upon entering, the Qilin experts burst in. Enraged, Fuxi and the others slew more than ten attackers, leaving only a few to protect Qi Bei as they fled.

Before long, the Qilin clan returned with an even greater force, this time led by the Qilin Ancestor, whose cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the late Quasi-Saint stage. Fuxi knew they stood no chance and could only activate the great formation, temporarily keeping the Qilin Ancestor at bay.

Bored during his stay, Chenxing had once modified the formation. Even with the Qilin Ancestor’s formidable power, he could not breach it for the time being.

Furious, the Qilin Ancestor ordered his forces to surround the domain and assault the great formation daily. Qi Bei stood outside, shouting brazen threats: once the barrier fell, he would claim Nuwa and Little Demon as his consorts. The two women burned with rage yet could do nothing.

“My royal father is the Qilin clan chief! Surrender now, and I’ll plead for your lives. Why struggle? Marry me, and you will be princesses of the Qilin clan—far better than wandering as mere cultivators,” Qi Bei boasted from outside the formation, prideful and arrogant.

“Little Demon,” Fuxi urged, “only if we return to Fangzhang Island can we escape the Qilin Ancestor’s pursuit. If anything happens to you, how could I face Chenxing in the future?”

At last, Little Demon spoke, “Brother Fuxi, I know you mean well. But my brother has been gone for so many years. I fear something has happened to him.” Her eyes were filled with deep concern.

“He’s fine,” Nuwa reassured her. “Brother Chenxing’s strength is unfathomable—even Hongjun is no match for him. Who could possibly harm him?” Yet seeing Little Demon’s obstinacy, Nuwa was at a loss.

She knew they could escape, but unless they returned to Fangzhang Island, it would be nearly impossible to elude the Qilin Ancestor’s pursuit. For the moment, she was truly at a loss.

“Not good! The formation can’t hold much longer!” Fuxi exclaimed. The great formation, though modified by Chenxing in a moment of boredom, had reached the limits of its defense against the Qilin Ancestor’s onslaught.

With a thunderous crash, a colossal hand slammed into the formation, sending cracks spiderwebbing through its surface.

Fuxi knew the next blow would shatter it entirely. He withdrew the formation, and the three of them soared into the sky to confront their foe.

Above them, the Qilin Ancestor descended, coming to stand before them.

“You three wounded my Qilin clan members. Surely you owe me an explanation,” he said, his tone icy.

“Your people trespassed upon our domain, yet you demand an explanation from us?” Nuwa snapped, her face flushed with anger.

The Qilin Ancestor burst out laughing. “Utterly ridiculous! The land around Mount Buzhou belongs to my Qilin clan. How could your domain possibly be here? Even if it were, so what? Here, you obey our rules!” His words dripped with arrogance.

“You—!” Nuwa was so incensed she could not speak.

“I see your cultivation is not insignificant. Why not submit to my Qilin clan and aid me?” Suddenly, the Qilin Ancestor’s arrogance faded, and he addressed them seriously.

“Father, I wish to take these two women as my wives,” Qi Bei interjected hastily, his lascivious eyes never straying from the two women.

“Silence, you fool! Get out of my sight!” barked the Qilin Ancestor, thoroughly disappointed in his son. He knew full well that all three before him had reached the Quasi-Saint realm. Their allegiance could tip the balance of power against the Dragon and Phoenix clans. As for his idiot son, he paid him no mind.

Fuxi stepped forward and bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Chief, for your offer, but the three of us have other pressing matters. We must decline your kind intentions.”

Anger flickered in the Qilin Ancestor’s heart. As the leader of one of the top powers of the Primordial World, he felt he had already shown them great honor by inviting them personally. That they would refuse him outright was intolerable.

His expression darkened. “If you will not comply, then this matter—your attack on my clansmen—cannot end peacefully.”

“Oh? And how do you propose to resolve it?” A cold, indifferent voice rang out.