Wei Zhenyu felt deeply guilty, yet couldn't fully convince himself that the illusory world was entirely false, for he discovered many events had left traces long before.
In that lifetime, the beginning of his life was no different from this one.
Born with exceptional talent, profound luck, and extraordinary comprehension, he was chosen by the world's most powerful figure to inherit skills and was placed with high expectations.
But he wandered the world joyfully yet alone, unwilling to bear such expectations or be bound by them.
"Saving the world? Is that even a human's job?"
Wei Zhenyu refused to accept this grand mission, secretly defiant: "You choose me, so I must comply? My own life—why should you arrange it?"
He didn't believe that a so-called "savior" alone could reverse fate, nor did he even believe this world was worth saving.
Drifting across the lands, he stood as if on a directionless wasteland—seemingly able to go anywhere, yet surrounded by dense night fog with no visible path forward.
He didn't believe, but someone else did. That person was Song Qianji, a Rogue Cultivator by origin, with a tarnished reputation, who clawed his way up by any means necessary, eventually reaching the Transformation Stage and ascending beyond the heavens.
Song Qianji raised his voice, calling on all cultivators to unite and save the world.
Wei Zhenyu watched coldly, curious to see how far this man could go. Clearly no saint, covered in filth and grime, yet he dared to play the hero...
When he heard Song Qianji urging various sects to set aside old grievances and form an alliance, Wei Zhenyu laughed at his foolish methods.
When he learned Song Qianji risked exploring the Dead Sea and found the Fountain of Immortality, Wei Zhenyu felt a faint gladness for him.
When he heard Song Qianji was questioned by the world about his motives and pressured to hand over the treasure, Wei Zhenyu felt a sense of loss, his emotions complex, unable to bear listening further.
Later, Wei Zhenyu got drunk at Bright Moon Tower and heard news of Song Qianji's death.
The man had been close to the Sky-Supporting Tree, yet failed at the final step.
After Song Qianji's death, the cultivator alliance lost its common enemy and splintered apart.
As the apocalypse loomed, major sect cultivators fought endlessly, while low-level cultivators and mortals struggled to survive.
Hordes of frenzied treasure hunters flooded the snow plains, progressing from mutual suspicion to slaughtering one another.
Who wouldn't want to obtain the legacy and treasures left by "Song Qianji the Hundred-Battle Immortal" and rise to heaven in a single step?
One less competitor meant one more hope of seizing the treasure.
Song Qianji self-destructed, his lifelong cultivation transforming into auspicious snow, leaving no trace. Yet blood stained the white snow, and vultures circled endlessly.
That man's peaceful place of death had become a slaughterhouse, filled with the sounds of killing day and night.
So Wei Zhenyu left Bright Moon Tower and headed toward the starting point of Song Qianji's escape.
He thought, this world might truly be beyond saving, but if even someone like Song Qianji dared to stake his life on one gamble, what was he himself afraid of?
Claiming to be the Rogue Cultivator Wei Ping who had already obtained the legacy and was Song Qianji's successor, he immediately drew joint pursuit from all sides.
Thus, surrounded by enemies from all directions, he retraced that man's old escape route.
"So escaping for your life is this difficult. I admit now that you were stronger than me. You were so clever—probably from the first day you entered the snow plains, you guessed you wouldn't make it this time and prepared to leave something behind for a destined successor."
"If I were you, I wouldn't have chosen this valley bottom. I'd walk another day to see..."
"This cave isn't bad—suitable for hiding something. But you'd need illusion techniques, not too shallow or too deep, and you'd have to test the successor's sincerity, cultivation, and wisdom. Still, this place lacks creativity—it doesn't suit the identity of me, the Hundred-Battle Immortal, a Great Adept of my generation, ha."While fleeing for his life, he imagined himself as Song Qianji, experiencing the other's emotions. Anger, sorrow, disappointment, despair, and finding joy amid hardship—he went through them all.
"This should be the place. Open!" Wei Zhenyu swung his sword, dispelling the illusion.
The ice wall crumbled, revealing a deep natural ice cave.
Wei Zhenyu pressed onward, effortlessly solving the mechanical puzzles. The narrow ice cave suddenly opened up, burying him in countless rare treasures, magical artifacts, elixirs, ancient texts, and dao scriptures.
After risking his life in pursuit all the way to the continent's edge, he had finally found the answer.
He should have been elated, ecstatic, liberated, but he only stood frozen, staring at a sword.
It wasn't the famed Solitary Light Sword, just an ordinary, slightly damaged low-grade blade.
Yet when he saw it, his mind trembled violently, his limbs went numb, and he felt an overwhelming urge to weep. The priceless treasures around him no longer held any appeal.
"So familiar." Wei Zhenyu gently lifted the old sword. "No, I must have used this sword before!"
This was once my sword!
An inexplicable thought flashed through his mind like lightning, stirring countless fragmented images.
He had tricked it away from a shady pawnshop, then broken it with his own hands as a symbol of severing ties with that person.
Rain poured, lightning flashed, thunder roared, blood flowed, flowers withered, and leaves shattered.
"Do you still dare draw your sword? Do you still have the courage to unsheathe it? Are you afraid of losing?" he had demanded.
That person smiled bitterly. "Of course, Fellow Daoist Wei fears nothing, because you've never lost."
The words still echoed in his ears—how could he forget?
Suddenly, the world seemed to spin, the sun and moon reversed.
"This isn't real. Wake up!"
As memories flooded back, his soul lightened, leaving his body. He saw himself—after inheriting Song Qianji's legacy—finding a secret place to seclude himself, break through, and refine treasures.
His true identity was exposed. Others, wary of his origins and powerful backers, no longer dared pursue him, instead placing their hopes for salvation upon him.
Once taught by opportunistic masters, he had never cultivated diligently. Now he drove himself mad with relentless effort, exploring secrets and seeking treasures everywhere, discovering the legacies of the Evil Buddha Meng Zhengxian and the mad Formation Master Ji Chen, claiming them for himself.
The world said he encountered miraculous fortunes, calling him the Child of Luck.
The people had suffered too long in the chaotic era. With universal acclaim, Wei Zhenyu used the heaven-earth treasure Inexhaustible Fire and his formidable cultivation to revive the Sky-Supporting Tree, successfully saving the world.
Yet as his power climbed to the limits this world could bear, the heavens could no longer tolerate him, summoning divine thunder to send him ascendant.
In this lifetime, he was revered by all, worshipped by millions, became dao companions with the "World's Greatest Beauty," and was the first to ascend in ten thousand years.
Was this fulfillment? Had he won everything?
Wei Zhenyu remained in this world, enduring the thunder tribulation, refusing to leave. Until the final moment, using every technique to deduce the future, he still only calculated the world's destruction three hundred years later.
He could only achieve dao alone, ultimately failing to save the world.
There were no winners in this world.
Wei Zhenyu's soul drifted, witnessing a lifetime of mortal dust, gratitude and grudges, love and hate. Tears streaming, he roared at the sky:
"Let me go back!"
Back to the world where Song Qianji existed, where Thousand Canals existed, where there was still hope!
His mind convulsed violently, his soul breaking free from the Three Lives Stone's bonds.
When he opened his eyes again, Miaoyan was beside him.
Not far away, He Qingqing was pulling Song Qianji, saying something he couldn't hear.Song Qianji's expression was gentle, with a trace of barely noticeable worry in his eyes, yet his demeanor remained aloof. No matter how much the person opposite him tried to persuade him, he remained unmoved.
Wei Zhenyu suddenly felt the urge to cry, but when he met Song Qianji's gaze, he was overwhelmed with guilt.
The past was too painful to recall.
He had caused a scene at Song Courtyard, yet the other had still protected him in the secret realm and helped him obtain the "Inexhaustible Fire."
But no matter how guilty or ashamed he felt, he had to deal with the "external threat" first.
"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 provocations."
Song Qianji was taken aback by his words. What had Wei Zhenyu seen?
Why was he willing to call him "Senior Brother Song" again? Hadn't he been addressing him as "Song Qianji" outright or sarcastically calling him "King Song" earlier?
"There is indeed something I need you to do," he said.
"Senior Brother Song, if there's anything you need, I'll go through fire and water without hesitation," Wei Zhenyu said joyfully.
"Leave this place immediately."
Wei Zhenyu's smile froze: "Senior Brother..."
Seeing his reluctance to leave, Song Qianji deliberately said, "I've tasked Xiao Meng with something, but I'm afraid he might not be able to handle it alone. I want you to help him. Go find him, and he'll tell you what to do."
Wei Zhenyu was immediately overjoyed: "Of course, he can't manage it alone! I'm willing to share your burdens, Senior Brother."
He glanced triumphantly at He Qingqing, not forgetting to slander her: "This woman is cunning and deceitful. Senior Brother, don't be fooled by her."
The long night finally ended, and the eastern sky began to brighten.
Song Qianji looked at He Qingqing, feeling a headache coming on.
The morning breeze brushed through the stray hairs at her temples and lifted her dress, as if trying to carry her away.
Yet she stood straight-backed, like an old pine tree clinging firmly to the mountain: "Thousand Canals has become an isolated island, and a great war is imminent. With the opportunity I gained tonight, I will seize the advantage step by step. Senior Brother Song, you should join forces with me."
"Why?" Song Qianji asked indifferently.
He Qingqing gritted her teeth: "Because I will be the final victor."
Song Qianji laughed: "Just because you're the victor, I should side with you?"
He Qingqing was taken aback: "Well... of course. You once told me not to use the sap of the Sky-Supporting Tree 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 it up, others will rush to do so. That's how the world works. Unless you stand at the very top and make everyone stop, someone will always take the first step, and others will follow!"
"What do you intend to do?" Song Qianji asked.
"I will unite all the sects and make everyone bow to me. I will stand at the highest point, where no one can pull me down. I will create a new world and become its god!"
After saying this, He Qingqing suddenly regretted it.
She had spoken such terrifying words. How would Song Qianji view her now?
"Miss He, I don't know what you've seen. This opportunity you've gained is your destiny. Perhaps you will gain everything, or perhaps you will climb to the highest point. But you will pay a great price..." Song Qianji said slowly. "You'll have no family or friends. Countless people will want to kill you, and those who treat you well will do so not out of sincerity but out of fear or a desire to use you. Is this truly what you want? Miss He, you are a very intelligent young woman. Don't let your intelligence harm others and yourself, causing unnecessary suffering and mistakes."
His tone was not harsh, like that of a patient elder.
The rising sun emerged behind him, casting a golden glow across the sky in an instant.He Qingqing's eyes brimmed with tears. "Is this your curse? You—you actually cursed me."
"No. This is the lesson I learned. I'm only advising you."
Clang!
He Qingqing waved her hand, and a dagger left its sheath.
She held it straight out to Song Qianji. "If you regret giving me Green Ripple Platform that night, then kill me tonight!"
"Why?!"
He Qingqing stared at him blankly. "If I achieve my desires in the future but become your enemy... by then, even if you want to kill me, I—I'm afraid I won't be willing to die."
The dagger gleamed coldly, capable of sealing one's fate with a single drop of blood.
Song Qianji sighed. "I don't regret buying the zither for you back then. Tonight, I won't kill you either."
He Qingqing suddenly retreated three steps and bowed deeply to him.
Very respectfully, very properly.
"Senior Brother Song, I'm leaving." She straightened up, her breath steady, her spirit calm.
Song Qianji turned away, hands behind his back, no longer looking at her. "Go."
...
The lake shimmered, like a crystal refracting a thousand brilliant rays.
The mountains stood silent, leaving only Song Qianji alone at the lake's center.
"Come out," he spoke softly. "I've been rushing about all night, my spirit weary, my sword speed no longer fast enough. Painted Spring Mountain isn't with me, the Seven Wonders Zither is damaged, and this place isn't suitable for setting up the Dragon Slaying Formation. If you want to kill me, now is the best time. Opportunity waits for no one."
In the Domain, Hua Wei Zhenren sighed deeply. "You let everyone else leave. Alone, how will you fight this battle? He tampered with the Three Lives Stone, clearly intending to use its power to kill you! What cards do you have left to play?"
Why did Meng Heze, Ji Chen, He Qingqing, Wei Zhenyu, and Miaoyan simultaneously fall into the Three Lives Stone's illusionary world?
Naturally, someone had lured them here.
Who could attract all these people at once? Only "Song Qianji."
That "Song Qianji" had been hiding in the shadows all along.
Despite Hua Wei Zhenren's frantic despair, Song Qianji remained standing with his hands behind his back, as if he hadn't heard.
A figure cloaked in golden dawn light stepped slowly out of the morning mist.
Wuxiang's final incarnation, identical to him from head to toe.
Song Qianji looked at the person before him as if gazing into a mirror.
He remained expressionless, but the mirror image lowered its brows and smiled faintly, creating an eerie sensation.
"We meet again," Wuxiang said. "You seem unaccustomed to my appearance?"
Song Qianji shook his head. "Buddha has no fixed form, nor does demon. 'All phenomena are illusory,' as you once said. The more one strives to see the true form, the more attached one becomes, and the more deceived by external appearances. What I couldn't see clearly before, I should see clearly after this night. I should even thank you for presenting me with this opportunity."
Song Qianji lifted his gaze, his eyes suddenly turning cold. "Let me see what you truly are!"
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