Previously on Longevity, starting from being a chicken raising servant...
Hui Yunzi meets with the severely injured Zhong Yuanzi to discuss the dire fate of the Wanxiang Sect disciples remaining in the Little Cang World. Despite the internal politics and resource constraints of the Cloud Sky Realm branch, the Patriarch is deeply moved by the tales of Wang Ba’s heroic efforts to mend the heavens. While Zhong Yuanzi promises to assist in a rescue attempt once the threat of the Supreme True Buddha subsides, their conversation is interrupted by an urgent summons. A high-ranking figure from the Cloud Sky Sect has arrived, demanding the Patriarch’s presence for an unexpected celebratory banquet.
At the Cloud Sky Arena.
The entrance to Qianguang Cave stood before them.
Wang Ba stood alongside the youth clad in purple robes, listening as the latter spoke with a voice full of sentiment:
“This cavern served as the secluded sanctuary where the Patriarchs of our Sect sought their breakthroughs. It is a nexus for the spirit and fortune of this entire Domain, saturated with the profound insights and Dao Intention of those who came before. Only those within the Sect who possess a genuine hope of ascending to the Mahayana realm are permitted to enter this retreat…”
Moved by the weight of these words, Wang Ba’s expression shifted, and he spoke up quickly:
“This place is far too precious; I wouldn’t dare to intrude upon such a sacred ground.”
The purple-robed youth offered a faint smile, turning his gaze toward Wang Ba. “You must be joking, Fellow Daoist. If a cultivator with your foundation cannot hope for the Mahayana stage, then who else would be worthy of this place?”
“However, as you are not a member of our Sect, I can only stretch the rules so far. We must limit your stay to three days. Once that time has passed, I shall personally come to receive you and celebrate your magnificent achievement!”
“Three days…”
After a brief moment of contemplation, Wang Ba nodded his head. “If that is the case, I shall accept your kindness with a thick skin.”
“Please,” the purple-robed youth said, his smile remaining.
Wang Ba did not hesitate and stepped into the depths of the cave.
As the entrance sealed behind him, he walked dozens of paces until he reached a vast, open space that felt like a world unto itself.
A single stone futon sat beneath a pillar of heavenly light.
Approaching the seat and looking upward, he felt as though he were standing at the base of a massive well looking toward the sky.
Beyond the 'well’s mouth,' the shimmering lights of various Domains flickered like a sea of stars, perhaps offering glimpses of hidden truths.
Scanning his surroundings, he saw the four walls carved with countless divine patterns. They appeared to be the work of many different hands—some were merely a few sparse strokes, others were rough and unrefined, while some displayed a fluid, liberated spirit.
“After a millennium of seclusion, I have finally ascended to Mahayana! Today, I grasped a wondrous technique, swift as a falling star…”
“Existing beyond time, it came naturally. Who can truly comprehend the cycle of creation and ruin in this universe…”
“Void within void, nothingness within nothingness, until no further emptiness can be found—only then is the ultimate reached…”
Some insights were captured in words, while others were felt through meanings that transcended language.
Indeed, the mysterious Dao is difficult to transcribe. As the old saying goes, words have limits while meaning is boundless; to speak of it is to miss the mark, and to think of it is to fall into error.
He could only merge his mind and spirit, feeling as if he were traversing thousands, tens of thousands, or even a hundred thousand years… drifting through the vast river of wisdom and Dao collisions sparked by the countless predecessors who had meditated here. He traveled among them, sharing in their triumphs, their sorrows, and their joys.
He seemed to perceive overlapping shadows upon the futon.
Some were lost in deep thought, others were laughing with abandon; some paced restlessly, while others looked toward the heavens without a trace of shame.
In an instant, Wang Ba became submerged in the sea of realizations left behind by the sudden inspirations of the Cloud Sky Sect’s ancestors.
His own knowledge, his Cultivation, and the observations he had gathered on his journey began to clash and fuse with these ancient insights.
It was like a furnace, with everything being cast inside to be forged by a roaring blaze!
“The Dao of Cultivation encompasses every phenomenon.”
“The celestial bodies, the frost and the snow, the Five Elements and the Yin and Yang, the thunder and the rain—all of these are known as the Dao.”
“The joys and griefs of humanity, the fundamental elements of earth, fire, water, and wind—whether they are tranquil or violent—these, too, are the Dao.”
“The withering of flora, the flight of birds and beasts—all that exists within the heavens and beyond is still called the Dao.”
“All things are but images, with me as the source; with the opening and closing of my eyes, all is born and all perishes with me.”
“No, this is merely the mundane Dao of cultivation, not my own path…”
Wang Ba shook his head sharply, cutting off that line of thought. As his mind sharpened, spiritual light erupted like a flowing spring:
“I am not myself, but a void; all things are in flux, eventually returning to nothingness. By not choosing the self, one can truly become great…”
As these thoughts took hold, a growing sense of joy filled his heart.
The various techniques he had mastered—the essence of Beast Control, his sword arts, the path of spirit food, Yin and Yang, the Five Elements, Wind, Thunder, Ice, Stars, and Divine Pattern Rites—finally found their place of resonance.
At that moment, Wang Ba’s Primordial Spirit began to turn ethereal.
It shed the form of a young man, gradually transforming into a void that was neither black nor white.
Various Dao Treasures drifted into this Primordial Spirit void, resembling starlight decorating the darkness.
It no longer felt the crushing weight of the Dao Treasures; instead, it functioned like a black hole, endlessly drawing in the subtle spirit essence and Dao Intention of the surroundings to nourish itself.
Because all is void, it is boundless, and all things can be utilized.
Sensing the evolution of his Primordial Spirit, a wave of satisfaction washed over Wang Ba.
“All phenomena are like converging streams; all flows return to the Sect.”
“This Primordial Spirit technique shall be named ‘All Flows Return to the Sect’.”
A moment later.
A voice from the outside world suddenly broke his concentration:
“Fellow Daoist Taiyi, the celebration feast is ready. Please conclude your seclusion.”
Startled, Wang Ba was pulled from that enigmatic state.
Looking down, he saw the futon was just a futon, sitting silently under the celestial light.
The walls of the sky well were rugged, yet the divine patterns had vanished from sight.
It felt as though it had been a dream, yet the memories remained vivid and clear.
Wang Ba stepped back and gave a respectful bow toward the futon. He then turned and walked out, calling out in response:
“Brother Bai, I am coming.”
…
“Fellow Daoist Taiyi, these past three days were spent organizing the celebration feast. Since we never gave you a proper welcome before, we shall celebrate everything together now.”
The purple-robed youth walked alongside Wang Ba, wearing a friendly smile. He was not alone; three late-stage Crossing Tribulation cultivators accompanied them. One belonged to the Cloud Sky Sect, while the other two were allies from different Domains.
They chatted warmly with Wang Ba, clearly treating him as a peer of equal status.
Though a significant gap in their actual realms and power still existed, it was only a matter of time before Wang Ba made his breakthrough and closed that distance. It was far better to offer a charcoal in the snow than to add flowers to a bouquet; while Wang Ba wasn't in desperate need, it was wiser to befriend him now than to wait until his cultivation reached the peak of Dacheng.
