Many thoughts flashed through Zhang Ruochen’s mind. He smiled, “Tomorrow morning, gather with the Guanghan Realm saints on that island. I have a surprise for you.”
He pointed to an island in Phoenix Lake.
“What surprise?” the Drunken Madman asked eagerly.
Zhang Ruochen replied, “If I told you now, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Just do as I say.”
Seeing Zhang Ruochen deliberately keeping it mysterious, the Drunken Madman had no choice but to curb his curiosity and wait for the reveal.
Mu Lingxi, as Guanghan Realm’s goddess, relayed the message to the saints.
That evening, Zhang Ruochen visited Concubine Lin’s courtyard to dine with her.
Placing a piece of meat in her bowl, he said gently, “Mother, starting tomorrow, I plan to enter seclusion for a while—seven to eight days at least, half a month at most. After that, I’ll come spend more time with you.”
“Dust, you’re grown. Do what you must. I’ll always support you, so don’t worry about me,” Concubine Lin said tenderly.
Zhang Ruochen was slightly surprised by her unwavering support.
She continued, “I’m just a mortal, unable to aid you. All I can do is back your decisions. Dust, remember, you’re a Zhang family man. Stand tall, and let no one bring you down.”
Her words deepened his surprise. Concubine Lin seemed different, perhaps changed by their years apart?
But this change pleased him. He didn’t want her to worry or weep for him.
Holding her hand, he said, “Mother, rest assured, I won’t disgrace the Zhang family or let you down.”
“That’s my good son,” Concubine Lin smiled, gratified.
Zhang Ruochen stayed with her late into the night, leaving only after she fell asleep.
Oddly, their past conversations were about family and memories, but this time, Concubine Lin asked about his adventures, eager to hear of his experiences.
Perhaps time truly changes people.
The next morning, Zhang Ruochen and Mu Lingxi appeared on the designated island, where Guanghan Realm saints had already gathered, waiting.
One person was absent: Saint King Xingyun.
Having lost to Zhang Ruochen yesterday, he’d lost face and likely wouldn’t show, even for immense benefits.
“Envoy, why have you summoned us?” Su Qingling asked.
Zhang Ruochen scanned the crowd, “I’ll activate a time treasure, allowing everyone to cultivate with it for a period.”
“What’s the time ratio?” Su Qingling pressed.
Zhang Ruochen answered, “One year to one day.”
“What? Such a miraculous time treasure exists?” Su Qingling’s eyes widened in shock.
The Guanghan Realm saints were stunned, even Saint King Tianyue, finding it unbelievable.
They vaguely understood why Zhang Ruochen’s strength had grown so rapidly—likely tied to this treasure.
The Drunken Madman laughed, “What a surprise! Now I can brew Heartburn Drunk faster.”
“And I can refine more Tongtian Saint Pills,” Gusong Zi added, smiling.
Heaven-grade pills were time-consuming to refine, and the time treasure would save significant effort.
Zhang Ruochen opened the Qiankun Realm, summoning many powerhouses from Divine Sword Manor and Ming Sect.
The Sundial’s power covered a 200-zhang radius, sufficient for multiple cultivators.
Each activation of the Sundial was a chance to maximize its use, as divine stones were too precious to waste on just a few.
He’d considered offering the Mu Family some slots, but their hostility made it unnecessary.
After everyone chose their positions, Zhang Ruochen activated the Sundial.
Its power enveloped the 200-zhang area, altering time’s flow dramatically.
“Lingxi, use this chance to refine the beast-shaped sacred herb and divine throne planet. Also, take this Heart of Divine Wood, a treasure from the Heaven-Connecting Divine Tree’s trunk, brimming with life force and capable of reviving the dead. Keep it safe.”
Zhang Ruochen carefully placed a Heart of Divine Wood in Mu Lingxi’s hand.
Incredibly precious, only seven remained in the tree’s trunk. After giving one to Ji Fanchen, six were left.
Giving one to Mu Lingxi showed her importance in his heart.
Mu Lingxi clutched it tightly, her face glowing with a radiant, joyful smile.
With everything arranged, Zhang Ruochen sat beneath the Sundial, the Ancient Abyssal Blade and Moyin beside him—one refining sacred artifacts, the other devouring Hell Realm corpses.
Both were vital to his strength, and he hoped they’d grow stronger.
Ignoring them, Zhang Ruochen summoned six saint souls and began cultivating.
His main goal was to advance his cultivation and condense a Dao Domain.
Once achieved, his strength would leap forward.
Additionally, he aimed to study the time and space rules in the *Secret Tome of Time and Space* within the Void Space, and insights from Sword Ten.
With his sword soul transformed, comprehending Sword Ten was far easier.
Facing increasingly powerful enemies, Zhang Ruochen felt intense urgency to grow stronger.
He took out a Heart of Divine Wood, holding it to study.
As expected, it greatly aided his comprehension of saint path rules, especially wood-related ones, surpassing the Rule Emperor Artifact’s effects.
Through it, he could grasp major and supreme saint path rules, like the Path of Wood and Path of Life.
Zhang Ruochen immersed himself in cultivation.
He’d shrouded the island with the black altar, ensuring no one could easily intrude, freeing him from worry.
In a blink, ten years passed.
Zhang Ruochen’s saint path rules reached 10 million, meeting the conditions to condense a Dao Domain.
Yet, despite multiple attempts, he failed, missing something crucial.
“Condensing a Dao Domain can’t be rushed. Still, this seclusion yielded great gains. My sword path rules reached 750,000. With my sword soul transformed, sword comprehension is much easier. Sword Ten reached the second layer, catching up to Feiyu.”
“Time rules hit 40,000, and space rules 70,000—both greatly improved. Even without a Dao Domain, my strength has likely increased significantly.”
Zhang Ruochen nodded, satisfied with his progress.
More time and space rules greatly enhanced his time sword techniques and spatial methods.
Turning to the Ancient Abyssal Blade and Moyin, his smile widened.
Originally a Nine-Yao Thousand-Pattern Sacred Artifact, the blade absorbed vast sacred artifact essences, advancing to a Ten-Yao Thousand-Pattern Sacred Artifact.
Moyin, after devouring countless Hell Realm corpses, reached the Dao Domain Realm.
Indeed, Moyin had condensed a Dao Domain, outpacing Zhang Ruochen.
“The Saint Devourer Flower is remarkable,” Zhang Ruochen marvelled.
He’d provided Moyin with countless Hell Realm corpses, including those of Dao Domain, Heaven-Connecting, and Near-Path Realm powerhouses.
With such nourishment, her Dao Domain wasn’t surprising.
Given enough sustenance, Moyin could easily reach Great Saint Realm. The last Saint Devourer Flower in Kunlun Realm nearly became a god.
With a thought, Zhang Ruochen recalled the blade and Moyin into his body.
He looked at Mu Lingxi nearby.
Still cultivating, she was surrounded by numerous saint path rules, exuding a powerful aura.
“Lingxi’s cultivation has reached the peak of Rule of Heaven and Earth. With half the Ice-Fire Phoenix’s legacy from the Ancestral Spirit Realm and Phoenix Lake’s benefits, her cultivation speed is enviable,” Zhang Ruochen said, smiling.
The Ice-Fire Phoenix’s half-legacy was extraordinary, from a top Great Saint, making it easier for Mu Lingxi to reach Great Saint Realm.
Canglan Martial Saint, with the other half, likely progressed quickly too.
Zhang Ruochen didn’t disturb her, quietly stowing the Sundial and black altar.
Suddenly, he sensed a faint, eerie aura.
Instantly, he used spatial teleportation, appearing at Concubine Lin’s manor by the lake.
A graceful figure stood on the manor’s stone wall, her enchanting eyes fixed on Zhang Ruochen below, lashes fluttering, a soul-stirring smile on her face.
“Qiu Yichi, how did you reach Phoenix Lake?” Zhang Ruochen’s gaze darkened, his right hand grasping the Ancient Abyssal Blade from the void.
The woman was Qiu Yichi, former Blood God Sect matriarch and the notorious Heart Demon of the Heavenly Court. Since the Kunlun Realm Merit Battlefield opened, she’d subdued dozens of Nine-Step Saint Kings.
Concubine Lin stood in the manor under a wutong tree, her face pale, possibly from fright.
