Chapter Twenty-Four: Chen Xing’s Sudden Realization and Preparations for the Gathering

In the wild western reaches of the Primeval World, within the ranks of the Demon Clan, Luo Hou sat in deep meditation, his eyes closed. Suddenly, a shadow flickered before him, kneeling on one knee as a hoarse voice echoed forth: “Demon Lord! The three clans have ruptured; our scheme to sow discord has finally borne fruit!”

Luo Hou slowly opened his eyes, a gleam of cold light flashing through them. “We have not been exposed?”

“Never,” his subordinate replied respectfully.

“Good. You may withdraw for now. Gather our people at once and be ready to propel this great calamity forward at any moment.”

“Yes, my lord!” The subordinate’s figure gradually faded from Luo Hou’s presence.

Rising to his feet, Luo Hou furrowed his brow in contemplation. To this day, he still had not learned the identity of the one whom Godslayer had mentioned, a fact that left him ill at ease. Reports from his subordinates confirmed that, during the fateful battle, a mysterious figure had appeared on the battlefield. Yet, no one could discover who this person was; all that was known was that a young girl accompanied him, as if the two had materialized from thin air, utterly unknown to the world.

With a sigh, Luo Hou dismissed the matter from his thoughts. The time had come. Once he refined the Immortal-Slaying Sword Formation, what need would he have to fear anyone? Comforted by this thought, he settled once more into meditation.

...

On Mount Fangzhang, ever since Feng Ling’er had arrived, she had been charmed by the island’s beauty and the harmonious coexistence of its many creatures. She even found herself reluctant to leave. Yet, she knew in her heart she belonged to the Phoenix Clan and could not remain here forever.

With a sigh, Feng Ling’er turned back toward her dwelling. Gazing at the unremarkable building before her, she felt a trace of embarrassment. She had once thought Chenxing’s abode was far too humble, never expecting that it would contain such wonders within—its grandeur far outstripping the great halls of her own clan. The spiritual energy within was denser than anything she had ever encountered. For days, she could hardly face Nuwa without feeling abashed, only now realizing the reason behind Nuwa’s strange smile back then.

Smiling wryly, Feng Ling’er was just about to enter the building when she heard someone call out behind her: “Sister Ling’er, come play with us!”

She turned to see several transformed creatures from the island beckoning her to join their games. Unbothered, she abandoned her return and ran to join them, their laughter ringing out like silver bells across the flower-strewn fields.

On a low hilltop nearby, two figures sat opposite each other, engaged in a game of chess. Were someone from Earth to witness their game, they would be utterly baffled—it was chess they played, not go. In the age of the Primeval World, chess did not exist; this was, naturally, a product of Chenxing’s boredom. He had considered introducing go, but, lacking any experience with it and no interest in learning, he simply created the game of chess, in which he was more adept, to while away the time.

The two players were, of course, Chenxing and Fuxi. Watching the playful crowd below, Fuxi frowned and asked, “Friend, now that so many of the island’s creatures have assumed human form, do you truly mean to keep them here forever under your protection?”

Chenxing lazily stretched, casually capturing one of Fuxi’s knights, and replied indifferently, “And why not? With me here, none can harm them!”

“But have you considered that, under your protection, they’ve lost all drive to better themselves? They spend each day in idle play. Don’t you think this is unfair to them? If this continues, will they ever have a chance to attain enlightenment?” Fuxi’s tone grew impatient.

Since returning to the island, even his own younger sister had neglected her cultivation, choosing instead to play daily with the others.

Hearing Fuxi’s pointed questions, Chenxing gradually fell silent, lost in thought. Indeed, he had always believed that by sheltering them, he was creating a paradise amidst the chaotic world—a place untouched by constraint. Yet he had never considered their own wishes.

Every sentient being yearns for true freedom; it is instinct. It is for the sake of this so-called freedom that countless rebels arise in the myriad worlds. But Chenxing knew: who truly attains freedom? In the end, the heart becomes its own constraint.

As one who stood at the summit, was he not the same? In his desire to return to Earth and see his parents and sister, he, too, had sought every means to temper his heart and hoped for swift completion.

...

Ever since he had become the Lord of Primordial Chaos in the guise of Chenxing, he had lost any hope of true freedom. He refused to be a cold and unfeeling supreme being, wishing only to live by his own heart, yet in so doing, he constrained the lives of others. Was this truly what he desired?

Lost in such thoughts, Chenxing unexpectedly entered a deep meditative state he thought impossible—a true trance, the first since he had regained the memories of his former self.

Seeing Chenxing enter this mysterious realm, Fuxi sat cross-legged nearby, guarding against any disturbance.

So it was that decades slipped away unnoticed. Many times the little demoness and Nuwa came by, only to be turned away by Fuxi.

Since meeting Chenxing, Fuxi had never seen him meditate in cultivation and understood that something extraordinary must be happening. Naturally, he would allow no one to disturb Chenxing.

One day, as Fuxi sat beside Chenxing in meditation, Chenxing suddenly opened his eyes with a burst of laughter, leaping skyward. His laughter, brimming with unbridled joy, resounded across the island.

At the sound, countless figures shot toward him—it was the little demoness, Nuwa, and the others. The little demoness flew to Chenxing’s side, clinging to his arm and pouting, “Brother, you’ve slept for so long! I was worried sick.”

Below, Nuwa smiled in relief. Truth be told, neither she nor the little demoness had ever seen Chenxing enter a meditative trance before, and his sudden, prolonged silence had worried them both.

Chenxing ceased his laughter, gently stroking the little demoness’s hair. “I won’t let you worry again, little one,” he said tenderly.

Basking in his affection, the little demoness blushed and lowered her head in shy delight. Nuwa, seeing this, pursed her lips in mock annoyance—but caught the little demoness’s eye and quickly added, “Brother, Sister Nuwa missed you too!”

At those words, even Nuwa’s ordinarily bold demeanor couldn’t hide her embarrassment; her hands twisted together in bashfulness.

Chenxing could not help but chuckle at the scene before him. The feelings of these two women had long been apparent to him; the only thing left unsaid between the three was what everyone already knew.

Scooping up the little demoness, Chenxing flew to Nuwa’s side, speaking softly, “I made you worry.” Nuwa’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Weren’t you always the one who never cultivated?” she retorted.

Chenxing paused, suddenly recalling the insights gained during his epiphany. Excited, he pulled both women into his embrace and laughed, “This time, my gains are tremendous. We must celebrate soon!” Unable to restrain his joy, he burst out laughing once more.

At this, the two women, forgetting their shyness, gleefully dragged Feng Ling’er down the hillside, calling out, “We’re off to gather spirit fruit! Let’s invite everyone and have some fun together!”

Before their voices had faded, they had disappeared, their laughter trailing behind them on the wind.

Watching them go, Chenxing smiled knowingly, then turned to Fuxi and bowed deeply. “Thank you, brother, for your timely words.”

Fuxi was at a loss. What had he said? He had no idea. Seeing Chenxing bow, he hurriedly returned the courtesy, unsure what to say.

“We’ll share a drink later,” Chenxing said. “I must make preparations first.”

With that, Chenxing leapt into the air and departed, leaving Fuxi alone atop the mountain, thoroughly bewildered.

Fuxi’s unintentional remark had plunged Chenxing into decades of contemplation. When he finally awakened, he found that his heart had advanced by leaps and bounds toward perfection.

A mere few decades of meditation had been worth nearly a third of the insight he’d gained in tens of thousands of years in the Realm of Sentiment! This realization filled Chenxing with excitement, and he began to understand certain truths.

He had always thought of himself as the same person from Earth, but in his heart, had he not always felt aloof and above others? His former self had severed his divine sense only to cast himself down into the world of mortals, to experience the myriad facets of life and thus perfect himself.

It was like a sovereign, lofty and detached, who proclaims his love for the people—yet, if he never dwells among them, how can he truly comprehend their suffering?

Subconsciously, he had always seen himself as one above all others, even here in the Primeval World, holding his cultivation above countless living beings.

If things continued thus, his heart would never reach perfection; in the end, he would become nothing more than another supreme being—aloof, cold, and devoid of feeling...

All this time, Chenxing had believed that it was Earth’s inability to bear the power of Primordial Chaos that prevented him from seeing his family again.

He had always assumed he was striving solely to reunite with his loved ones.

But now he saw—it was only self-deception.

...

Soaring above the Eastern Sea, Chenxing flew as he pondered all that had transpired, unable to help but smile wryly.

Yet on second thought, whatever the case, the outcome was good enough. His spirits lifted.

There was still a trace of frustration, though. Deep within, Chenxing sensed he was but a breath away from attaining something inexpressible, yet could not grasp it. Perhaps this was his final trial.

The void? One day, he would surely break through it.

With renewed spirit, Chenxing cast aside further rumination. For now, it was best to focus on the task at hand.

Arriving above the Eastern Sea, Chenxing waved his hand, and countless ingredients shot up from the waters below—mindless sea creatures, perfect for the great feast he intended. After all, seafood from Earth was his favorite.

As he happily gathered his ingredients, Chenxing reflected on Fuxi’s earlier words.

Yes, it was time to let those people choose their own destinies.

He resolved to let them make their own choices at the coming banquet.

Just then, a furious shout rang out: “Who are you? How dare you take from my Eastern Sea without so much as a word to the Dragon Clan! Do you take us for nothing?”