Wei Zhen Yu felt extremely guilty, yet couldn’t console himself that the illusory world had been entirely false because he discovered many events had left traces long ago.

In that life, the beginning of his journey was no different from this one.

He was born with exceptional talent, abundant fortune, and superior enlightenment. He was chosen by the strongest in the world who taught him abilities and placed high hopes on him.

But he wandered the world happily yet lonely, not wanting to be expected of, nor willing to be constrained.

“Save the world? Is that something a person should do?”

Wei Zhen Yu was unwilling to accept such a grand mission, secretly rebelling: “You choose me and that makes it so? My own life—do I need you to arrange it?”

He didn’t believe that merely one so-called “savior” could reverse the situation, and he didn’t even believe this world could still be saved.

He drifted across the four seas, like standing in a directionless wilderness. It seemed he could go anywhere, yet thick fog surrounded him, with no visible way out.

He didn’t believe it, but someone else did. That person was named Song Qian Ji, a rogue cultivator by origin with a bad reputation who desperately climbed upward by any means necessary, finally reaching the Divine Transformation realm and ascending to Heaven Beyond Heaven.

Song Qian Ji raised his arm and called upon cultivators throughout the world to unite to save the world.

Wei Zhen Yu observed coldly, watching to see how far this person could go. Not a great man of virtue, covered in mud and turbid water, yet he dared to act strong and play the hero.

Hearing that he called for cultivators from various sects to set aside old grudges and form an alliance, Wei Zhen Yu laughed at his clumsy methods.

Hearing that he risked exploring the Death Sea and found the Immortality Spring, Wei Zhen Yu felt vaguely happy for him.

Hearing that he was questioned by the world about his motives and forced to surrender his treasures, Wei Zhen Yu felt desolate and conflicted, unable to bear listening further.

Later, Wei Zhen Yu was drinking at Bright Moon Tower when he heard the news of Song Qian Ji’s death.

That man had been not far from the Sky-Supporting Tree when he failed at the brink of success.

After Song Qian Ji’s death, the cultivator alliance lost their common enemy and splintered into factions.

As doomsday approached, cultivators from major sects fought endlessly, while lower-level cultivators and ordinary people struggled to survive.

Hordes of frenzied treasure hunters flooded into the snow plains, going from mutual wariness to slaughtering each other.

Who wouldn’t want to obtain the legacy and treasures left by “Hundred Battles Undying Song Qian Ji” and ascend to heaven in a single step?

One less competitor meant one more chance to seize the treasures.

Song Qian Ji died in self-detonation, his lifelong cultivation transforming into an auspicious snowfall that left no trace. However, blood stained the white snow, and vultures circled without dispersing.

That once-peaceful place of exile had become a killing field, with screams of slaughter day and night.

So Wei Zhen Yu left Bright Moon Tower and walked toward the starting point of Song Qian Ji’s escape.

He thought this world might truly be beyond salvation, but if even someone like Song Qian Ji dared to bet his life, what was I so afraid of?

He claimed to be a rogue cultivator named Wei Ping who had already obtained the hidden treasures and was Song Qian Ji’s disciple and inheritor, immediately drawing joint pursuit from various factions.

And so, under siege from all directions, he retraced that man’s escape route.

“So escaping with one’s life isn’t so easy. I now admit you’re stronger than me. Being so clever, you probably guessed on the first day you entered the snow plains that you wouldn’t escape this time, and prepared to leave something for a fated person.”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t choose this valley bottom. Let’s walk one more day and see…”

“This cave is quite good, suitable for hiding something. It needs an illusion to conceal it—can’t be hidden too shallowly or too deeply, and must test the sincerity, cultivation, and wisdom of those who come after. But this place lacks creativity, doesn’t fit my identity as Hundred Battles Undying, a great figure of the generation, haha.”

As he fled for his life, he imagined himself as Song Qian Ji, feeling the other’s intentions. He experienced anger, sorrow, disappointment, despair, and finding joy amid suffering.

“It should be here. Open!” Wei Zhen Yu swung his sword, breaking the illusory concealment.

The ice wall collapsed, revealing a deep natural ice cave.

Wei Zhen Yu went deeper, solving the mechanisms and puzzles without hesitation. The narrow ice cave suddenly opened up, and countless heavenly materials, earthly treasures, magical items, spirit pills, classics, and Dao scriptures engulfed him.

After a life-risking quest to the edge of the continent, he finally had answers.

He should be happy, ecstatic, and liberated, but he only stood there in a daze, staring at a sword.

It wasn’t the famous Lonely Light Sword, just an ordinary, slightly damaged lower-grade sword.

But when he saw this sword, his spirit trembled violently, his limbs went numb, and he felt an urge to cry. The priceless treasures around him no longer caught his eye.

“So familiar.” Wei Zhen Yu gently picked up the old sword. “No, I must have used this sword before!”

It was once my sword!

A strange thought flashed through his mind like lightning striking his consciousness, triggering countless fragmented images.

This sword had been swindled by him from a pawnshop, and later broken by his own hands as a witness to the severing of ties with that person.

Heavy rain poured down, lightning flashed and thunder roared, blood flowed as flowers and leaves shattered.

“Do you still dare to draw your sword? Do you still have the courage to draw your sword? Are you afraid of losing?” he had demanded.

That person smiled bitterly: “Fellow Daoist Wei naturally fears nothing, because you’ve never lost.”

The words still echoed in his ears—how could he forget?

Wei Zhen Yu suddenly felt the world spinning, the sun and moon inverting.

“This is not the real world. Wake up!”

As his memories revived, his soul lightened and left his body. Yet he saw himself obtaining Song Qian Ji’s legacy, finding a secret location to seclude himself for a breakthrough, and refining treasures.

His true identity was exposed, but others feared his background and backing, no longer daring to hunt him, and instead placed their hopes of salvation on him.

Previously, he had been taught by his convenient masters but never cultivated diligently. Now he worked with manic dedication, exploring mysteries and seeking treasures everywhere, finding the hidden caches of Evil Buddha Meng Zheng Xian and Crazy Formation Master Ji Chen, using them for himself.

People said he had continuous strokes of luck, that he was the child of fortune.

The world had suffered in chaos for too long. Wei Zhen Yu became the focus of everyone’s hopes, and finally used the heavenly treasure “Endless Fire” and his formidable cultivation to stimulate the vitality of the Sky-Supporting Tree, successfully saving the world.

However, his power subsequently rose to the limit this world could bear. Heaven and earth no longer contained him and sent down divine lightning to make him ascend.

In this lifetime, he was revered by the world, worshipped by countless people, became Dao companions with the “world’s most beautiful” woman, and was the first person to ascend in ten thousand years.

Was that fulfillment? Had he won everything?

Wei Zhen Yu remained in this world, resisting the lightning tribulation, unwilling to leave. Until the final moment, he used every method to divine the future, yet could only calculate that three hundred years later, the world would still meet its destructive end.

He could only achieve the Dao alone, ultimately unable to save the world.

This world had no winners.

Wei Zhen Yu’s soul drifted, witnessing a lifetime of worldly affairs, grudges, and love, face streaming with tears, as he looked up and howled:

“Let me go back!”

Back to a world with Song Qian Ji, with Thousand Channels, where everything still held hope!

With his mind violently shaken, his soul broke free from the Three Lives Stone’s constraints.

When he opened his eyes again, Miao Yan was beside him.

Not far away, He Qing Qing pulled at Song Qian Ji, saying something unknown.

Song Qian Ji’s expression was gentle, his eyes carrying a hint of barely perceptible worry, yet his demeanor remained cold. No matter how the person across from him tried to persuade him, he remained unmoved.

Wei Zhen Yu suddenly felt like crying, but meeting Song Qian Ji’s gaze, he felt extremely guilty.

The past was too painful to recall.

He had caused a scene at Song Manor, yet the other had still protected him in the secret realm and helped him obtain the “Endless Fire.”

But no matter how guilty and uncomfortable he felt, he had to first resolve the “external threat.”

“Senior Brother Song, I was wrong before. If you’re angry with me, you can beat or kill me, but please don’t listen to this woman’s instigation.”

Song Qian Ji was startled at these words—what had Wei Zhen Yu seen?

Why was he willing to call him Senior Brother again? Hadn’t he been calling him by his full name, Song Qian Ji, or sarcastically referring to him as King Song before?

“I do need you to handle something,” he said.

“Senior Brother has a task—I’d go through fire and water without hesitation,” Wei Zhen Yu said delightedly.

“Leave this place quickly.”

Wei Zhen Yu’s smile froze: “Senior Brother…”

Seeing that he was unwilling to leave, Song Qian Ji deliberately said, “I’ve assigned a task to Little Meng, but I fear he might not be able to handle it alone. I want you to help him. Find him, and he will tell you what to do.”

Wei Zhen Yu was immediately overjoyed: “He certainly can’t manage alone! I’m willing to share your burden, Senior Brother.”

He cast a triumphant glance at He Qing Qing, not forgetting to smear her reputation: “This person is deeply scheming. Senior Brother, don’t be deceived by her.”

The long night finally ended as the east began to whiten.

Song Qian Ji looked at He Qing Qing, feeling somewhat of a headache.

The morning breeze blew the stray hairs by the young woman’s temples and lifted her robes as if about to blow her away.

Yet she stood with a straight back, like an old pine clinging to the green mountains: “Thousand Channels has become an isolated island, and a great war is imminent. Tonight I’ve obtained this opportunity and will gain the upper hand step by step. Senior Brother Song, you should join forces with me.”

“Why?” Song Qian Ji asked calmly.

He Qing Qing gritted her teeth: “Because I will be the ultimate victor.”

Song Qian Ji smiled: “Because you are the victor, I should stand by your side?”

He Qing Qing hesitated: “This… naturally it should be so. You once told me not to use the Sky-Supporting Tree’s sap to enhance my cultivation, but if I don’t use it, others will, and they’ll use it against me. If I don’t dig for it, others will rush to take it. That’s how the world works—unless you stand at the highest point and tell everyone not to do it. Otherwise, if one person does it, others will follow!”

“Then what do you intend?” Song Qian Ji asked.

“I want to unify all sects, make everyone bow to me. I want to stand at the highest point where no one can pull me down. I want to create a new world and become the god of that new world!”

After speaking, He Qing Qing suddenly felt some regret.

She had said such frightening things—how would Song Qian Ji view her now?

“Miss He, I don’t know what you’ve seen. This opportunity you’ve gained is your fortune. Perhaps you will obtain everything, perhaps you can climb to the highest place. But you will pay many prices…” Song Qian Ji said slowly, “No family, no friends, countless people wanting to kill you, and others who treat you well not because of sincerity, but because they fear you or want to use you. Is this truly what you want? Miss He, you are a very clever girl. Don’t let your cleverness hurt others and yourself, leading to self-inflicted suffering and error.”

His tone wasn’t severe; he was like a good-tempered elder.

The morning sun rose behind him, suddenly spreading ten thousand rays of golden light.

He Qing Qing’s eyes filled with tears: “Is this your curse? You… you’re cursing me.”

“No. These are lessons I’ve learned. I’m only advising you.”

“Shing!”

He Qing Qing waved her hand, and a dagger unsheathed.

She handed it straight to Song Qian Ji: “If you regret giving me the Green Ripple Platform that night, then kill me tonight!”

“Why?!”

He Qing Qing stared at him blankly: “If in the future I achieve my wishes but become your enemy… by then, if you want to kill me, I… I fear I won’t be willing to die.”

The dagger’s cold light was piercing, deadly upon drawing blood.

Song Qian Ji sighed: “I don’t regret buying that zither for you back then. Tonight, I won’t kill you either.”

He Qing Qing suddenly retreated three steps and performed a deep bow to him.

Most respectful, most proper.

“Senior Brother Song, I’m leaving.” She straightened up, her breath calmed, her spirit settled.

Song Qian Ji turned with his hands behind his back, no longer looking at her: “Go.”

…

The lake water sparkled like a crystal refracting a thousand rays of light.

The mountains were silent, with only Song Qian Ji remaining at the lake’s center.

“Come out,” he spoke softly. “I’ve been rushing about all night. My spirit is exhausted, and my sword speed is no longer fast enough. The Painting Spring Mountain is not on me, the Seven Absolute Zither is damaged, and this place is not suitable for arranging the Dragon Slaying Formation. If you want to kill me, now is the best time—an opportunity that cannot be missed.”

In the boundary realm, True Person Hua Wei sighed deeply: “You let everyone else leave. How will you fight this battle alone? He tampered with the Three Lives Stone, clearly wanting to use its power to kill you! What cards do you still have to play?”

Why had Meng He Ze, Ji Chen, He Qing Qing, Wei Zhen Yu, and Miao Yan all fallen into the Three Lives Stone’s illusion at the same time?

Naturally, someone had led them there.

Who could simultaneously influence all these people? Of course, only “Song Qian Ji.”

That “Song Qian Ji” had been hiding in the shadows all along.

Despite True Person Hua Wei’s chest pounding and foot-stamping, Song Qian Ji still stood with his hands behind his back, as if he hadn’t heard.

A figure wearing a brilliant golden morning glow walked slowly out of the morning mist.

Wu Xiang’s last avatar was identical to him from head to toe.

Song Qian Ji looked at the person before him as if looking in a mirror.

His face was expressionless, while the person in the mirror lowered his brows and smiled slightly—the feeling was somewhat eerie.

“We meet again,” Wu Xiang said. “You seem uncomfortable with my appearance?”

Song Qian Ji shook his head: “Buddha is formless, and so is the demon. ‘All that has form is illusory.’ You once said that the more one tries to see the true form, the more one becomes attached, and the more one is deluded by external appearances. What I couldn’t see before, after this night, I should now see clearly. I should thank you for sending this opportunity.”

Song Qian Ji raised his eyes, his gaze suddenly cold: “Let me see what you are!”