The sun blazed fiercely, and the cicadas in the forest sang without pause.
Under the green shade, Zhang Ruochen held two leaves, teaching two children tricks. Then, he caught a summer cicada, tied a thin string to its front leg, and walked it, making the children laugh endlessly.
These two children, surnamed Liu, were descendants of the Ninth Princess Zhang Yuxi, her great-great-grandchildren.
They had been playing like this all morning.
…
In the distance, Kong Xuan asked, “His Highness is a pinnacle figure in the mortal world, with countless important matters awaiting him. Why does he spend time on two children? Could a Great Saint truly find joy in playing with cicadas alongside young kids?”
Kong Lanyou, holding a bamboo flute, stood under a tree, her white hair swaying in the breeze. “Perhaps he has always had a childlike heart, but for various reasons, that heart has been buried too long.”
“Or maybe he’s seeking enlightenment, searching for his true self. You see him smiling, and that means he’s truly smiling. With two children, there’s no need to hide his real emotions or perform for anyone.”
“I think, at this moment, he’s the happiest. No need for killing, no need for pretense or concealment, no need to force himself.”
When the two children left, Zhang Ruochen used his First-Grade Holy Will to summon the power of heaven and earth, personally tempering and refining their bodies.
His Holy Will stood equal to the Heavenly Way. After this tempering, their bodies would align perfectly with heaven and earth, ensuring a smoother path in their future cultivation.
“Go home now, it’s time for lunch. Don’t keep your family waiting.”
Zhang Ruochen waved goodbye.
Watching the two children walk away with their cicada, Zhang Ruochen gave a knowing smile, suddenly grasping the essence of life and time. Some time has indeed slipped away, and some people are truly gone, but the legacy of life endures.
Be it mortals or cultivators, all one can do is cherish the present.
Like the cicadas’ song now, like the breeze at this moment.
…
In the following days, Zhang Ruochen stayed at Ming Sect, setting up three time arrays to aid the disciples’ cultivation. He also chose an auspicious day to bury his mother beside the tomb of the Yunwu Count King.
Then, Zhang Ruochen went alone to the depths of Wang Mountain.
After the Kunlun Realm’s full revival, the folded spaces in Wang Mountain had fully expanded. Holy mountains rose one after another, divine veins flowed underground, and ancient and medieval divine patterns reawakened. Intruding was no easy task.
These mountains rivalled divine lands.
The vast cultivation resources in Wang Mountain were the primary reason Ming Sect had grown to its current scale in just a thousand years.
Before reaching the ancestral land, Zhang Ruochen heard an aged voice behind him. “Kid, you’re finally back, heh heh!”
Zhang Ruochen was shocked. With his current mental strength, someone could still approach silently, evading his senses, and appear behind him.
What did this mean?
Zhang Ruochen turned to see a gaunt old man standing by a stream, grinning at him.
The old man had seen through his true identity.
Beside the old man stood a massive fat rabbit, its belly round like a ball, exuding demonic energy. Its amber eyes stared at Zhang Ruochen, uncertain. “Master Dust?”
“Guoguo.”
“Master Dust, you’re back at last! Where’s Blackie? Blackie’s been gone for a thousand years too.”
Tuxiang Rabbit rushed toward Zhang Ruochen, nearly knocking him into the holy stream.
A while later, Zhang Ruochen approached the old man, suspecting he might be a deity, and bowed. “Greetings, Senior.”
“Senior? Call me Ancestor.”
The old man rolled up his sleeves, circling Zhang Ruochen, his sunken eyes sizing him up, nodding occasionally.
This old man had crawled out from the ancestral land’s depths, possibly a true Zhang family ancestor. But his demeanor lacked the gravitas expected of an ancestor, making it hard for Zhang Ruochen to call him “Ancestor.”
The old man scratched his hair. “Interesting. The bloodline of the Immortal Blood Clan has fused with our Zhang family’s bloodline. Your body has reached a state of innate chaos, nearly one with the Heavenly Way. What incredible fortune did you encounter in the Hell Realm?”
“Some fortune… What are you doing?” Zhang Ruochen said.
The old man grabbed Zhang Ruochen’s right arm, pulled out a dagger, and before Zhang Ruochen could react, sliced a cut on his wrist.
The old man leaned in, sniffing carefully.
Zhang Ruochen pulled his arm back and stepped away. “Are you perverse? What’s this about?”
The old man’s eyes gleamed. “Your blood’s not bad, perfect for alchemy. How about giving me a few liters? I won’t take it for free, I’ll trade with pills.”
“Not a chance,” Zhang Ruochen said.
The old man scratched his hair, his eyes darting slyly.
Sensing ill intent, possibly even force, Zhang Ruochen said, “We Zhang descendants are heirs of the Great Venerable. His life was glorious. As his descendants, we should act with integrity.”
The old man’s expression shifted, then he looked skyward, striking a noble pose. “Exactly. Like me, my actions have always been upright. Kid, I’m a man of reason, I won’t force you. Name your price. How much for your blood?”
Zhang Ruochen said, “You sure you don’t force others? The Zhang family has suffered greatly from you this past thousand years.”
“What? Suffered? Who suffered?”
The old man bristled. “A thousand years ago, the Zhang family was in ruins. Look now, through my efforts, our descendants have multiplied. Though not a fraction of our peak, things are improving.”
“Unfortunately, those tasked with continuing the lineage had weak bloodlines, and few of their offspring are promising.”
“Your return eases my mind.”
“No blood? Fine. But you must have at least a thousand, no, ten thousand heirs.”
Zhang Ruochen shook his head and walked toward the depths of Wang Mountain.
“Still so stubborn. This time, I won’t let you off easily.”
The old man muttered, then chased after him. “When a family declines, everyone shares the blame. To thrive, we must multiply. Sometimes, extreme measures are needed. I don’t want to die without raising a single deity to uphold the family. What a tragedy that would be.”
Tears in his eyes, the old man said mournfully, “My lifespan’s nearly done. I doubt I’ll survive this year. Ruochen, you’re the only Zhang descendant I’ve seen with a chance at divinity. Pity this old man. Before I’m buried, let me see more Zhang descendants with the potential to become gods. Is that too much to ask?”
Survive this year? Zhang Ruochen would be a fool to believe him.
Unmoved, the old man stomped in frustration, pointing at Zhang Ruochen’s back. “Zhang Ruochen, you’re wasting your talent! You don’t realize your greatest power isn’t your cultivation but your unborn children.”
“Let’s calculate. If you have ten thousand children, raised by me, at least a tenth could have divine potential, that’s a thousand. Of those, a tenth might reach divinity, that’s a hundred deities.”
“Your ten thousand children would produce more, many with divine potential.”
“If you work hard, I guarantee, within ten thousand years, the Zhang family will produce a hundred deities. After one eon, we’ll dominate the Kunlun Realm. After three eons, we’ll overshadow the Heavenly Court’s myriad realms. After five eons, our clan alone will suppress the Hell Realm’s ten clans.”
“Then, you’ll be the King of Ten Thousand Gods, the Father of Gods, ruling Heaven and Hell.”
Zhang Ruochen stopped and turned to look at him.
The old man, delighted, thought he’d persuaded him. “Well? Not a bad plan, right? We team up, you provide the heirs, I provide the effort. In five eons, Heaven and Hell will be ours.”
Zhang Ruochen said, “If this plan worked, why didn’t the Great Venerable use it? With his mighty bloodline, a little effort would’ve produced countless deities among his descendants.”
“I’ve studied Kunlun Realm’s history. After the Great Venerable’s death, the Zhang family declined rapidly, meaning he left few heirs.”
“In the medieval era, a Zhang deity, the Calamity Venerable, tried to revive the family. He took many wives, had many children, but did any reach divinity? What does that tell you?”
“Becoming a god isn’t that easy. Strong bloodlines don’t guarantee divinity. Resources alone can’t achieve it.”
“A family’s growth and lasting legacy don’t come from endless procreation but from everyone striving for self-improvement.”
“If the Zhang family tried to dominate Heaven and Hell through progeny, we’d likely face annihilation before we could rise.”
Seeing the old man’s low spirits, Zhang Ruochen asked, “Are you the Calamity Venerable?”
The old man nodded, then stubbornly said, “No… of course not!”
In truth, beings with strong bloodlines and exceptional talent do produce offspring more likely to be geniuses with divine potential.
Over a tenth of Blood Absolute War God’s heirs had divine potential.
Without Huang Tian’s bloodline, Bai Qing’er might not have become an eon-level genius.
Arriving outside the ancestral land, gazing at the boundless Great Saint tomb forest shrouded in nine-coloured divine light, Zhang Ruochen still felt its overwhelming aura.
He murmured, “Did the Great Venerable truly die?”
On the river of time, Zhang Ruochen had witnessed the Great Venerable’s supreme grace, finding it hard to believe such a figure could lie beneath the earth, reduced to a corpse.
Could the earth truly bury him?
The last time he came here, a mysterious force had drawn him to a chaotic, mystical world where he saw a great tomb.
Above it were twenty-seven layers of celestial realms.
Above those sat a figure.
Back then, with his low cultivation, Zhang Ruochen couldn’t discern the figure’s face or whether it was a phantom or real.
This time, he intended to find out.
…
There may be misconceptions about the cultivation speed of Great Saints. Each advancement is extremely difficult.
When Zhang Ruochen first broke through to the Immortal Realm, he used the Sundial and cultivated in seclusion for a century without advancing from early to mid-stage. He even used the Divine Dragon Enlightenment Chamber, which doubled his cultivation speed.
In other words, most Great Saints spend centuries in the Immortal Realm.
Zhang Ruochen’s later speed increase relied on rare resources and extraordinary encounters.
In the Immortal and Hundred Shackles Realms, only Yan Wushen matched his pace. Prajna, Blood Demon, and Luo Sha remained in the Immortal Realm. Yan Wushen reached Zhang Ruochen’s level only after years of cultivation inside the Dark Star.
Thus, over a thousand years, even with time arrays allowing thousands of years of cultivation, most Saint Kings likely remain in the Immortal or Hundred Shackles Realms.
Reaching the Thousand Questions or Ten Thousand Deaths realms requires unparalleled resources, talent, and even fortunate encounters.
