In the Spirit Valley.
Chen Chang'an rose from the rattan chair. The teapot on the table was still warm, indicating someone had been here. Chen Chang'an paid it no mind, skillfully pouring himself a cup of warm, clear tea.
The nights in the Spirit Valley were always so tranquil, with the rustling of insects and a gentle breeze sweeping through the spiritual fields, carrying waves of medicinal fragrance.
He gazed out the window at the bright moon in the sky, a rare sense of peace washing over him—how wonderful it would be if days like this could last forever.
However, this tranquility did not last long.
He suddenly turned his head, his gaze like a sword, piercing directly into a certain point in the void.
"Since you're here, please show yourself, fellow Daoist."
As his words fell, the void rippled like water waves. A Daoist boy in a cyan daoist robe stepped out of thin air, holding a horsetail whisk and bowing respectfully: "The Master has requested your presence."
Chen Chang'an was not surprised. He slowly set down his teacup and rose to his feet. He looked at the Daoist boy, a flicker of understanding in his eyes—the day had finally come.
"Lead the way."
He was not worried about a trap. If the one who invited him was truly the one he suspected, that person would surely disdain to set any despicable scheme.
Even if there were schemes involved, they would be conducted openly and with dignity, concerned with face.
The Daoist boy turned, his whisk sweeping lightly, and a cloud ladder materialized beneath his feet, leading straight into the depths of the void. Chen Chang'an followed, walking as if it were a casual stroll.
But after just a few steps, the scenery around him suddenly changed—
When he looked up again, he was standing on the Star-Viewing Terrace, the highest point in the Spirit Valley.
He sat there, draped in a simple white daoist robe, with a faint aura of chaos flowing between his sleeves. His features were ancient, and his eyes seemed to contain the profound mysteries of the world's creation.
His gaze was as deep as the starry sky, as if it could pierce through ten thousand years of time. His long hair was loosely draped, with stars flickering faintly within the strands.
A faint, clear light enveloped his body, not dazzling, yet one dared not look directly at it. His presence seemed to merge with heaven and earth; every move he made subtly conformed to the Great Dao, and with each breath, it was as if the universe itself was born and died.
With a light tap of his finger, it seemed he could stir the river of fate. Although he did not deliberately reveal any oppressive aura, he possessed a transcendent demeanor that surpassed all living beings, as if he were the very creator of this world and the source of all laws.
Chen Chang'an stood at the edge of the cloud platform, his sleeves fluttering in the windless air.
He could clearly feel the gap between himself and the being before him—not a difference in cultivation or the depth of magical power, but a disparity that was almost fundamental. The other's existence was as if he were a part of the Great Dao itself; every movement resonated with heaven and earth.
However, since there was no malice from the other party, Chen Chang'an did not hesitate. He took a step forward and performed a Daoist salute, his bearing neither humble nor overbearing.
The other's gaze was profound, as if it could see through the long river of time. After a moment, he let out a soft sigh:
"Heaven gives birth to all things, their rises and falls, their creations and destructions. It seems that under the Heavenly Dao, all living beings are equal."
"But what they do not know is that long ago, there were those who defied heaven and shattered the rules. Furthermore, countless cultivators, in the name of cultivation, foolishly seek immortality, which has thrown the Heavenly Dao out of balance, causing calamities to descend upon the world."
His voice was not loud, yet it was like the voice of heaven descending, every word like a bell, echoing throughout the entire realm.
The sea of clouds churned, as if in response, and even the stars seemed to tremble slightly at this moment.
After that, he slowly rose, bowed slightly to Chen Chang'an, and as his sleeves fluttered, it was as if a galaxy was flowing within them:
"Little friend, please—I have been waiting for you for a long time."
The night wind suddenly ceased, and all was silent.
The Heavenly Choice
Above the Cloud Terrace, chaotic Qi swirled.
Chen Chang'an took a deep breath. Though their positions were different, the person before him was indeed a legend he had heard since childhood.
Carrying the virtues of his past life, he said seriously, "I ask for your guidance."
The person seemed quite satisfied with Chen Chang'an's performance and nodded slowly before speaking. His voice was like the gentle toll of an ancient bell, echoing between heaven and earth:
"The Great Dao is simple; to gain, one must let go. Why not let go of some of your attachments, to achieve a clear state of mind?"
Chen Chang'an stood with his hands behind his back, neither humble nor arrogant, with starlight flickering in his eyes. He calmly replied: "I know nothing of my ancestors' affairs, nor did I participate in their actions. Why must I bear a share of the calamity they caused?"
That person's gaze fell, like the heavens looking down upon all living beings: "Because you are also a part of the masses. Like a single drop in a great river, how can you remain untouched?"
Hearing this, Chen Chang'an suddenly chuckled, his laughter tinged with a hint of sarcasm: "When my ancestors achieved eternal life and freedom, I was but an ant beneath their feet. When calamity strikes, I become one of the masses. Is this not a bit unfair?"
The person's breath caught for a moment before he sighed: "There is no absolute fairness in this life."
"But I demand fairness," Chen Chang'an said.
"Do you know... you have the chance to change all of this." The person raised his hand, a wisp of golden light appearing at his fingertips. "Your fate is unique, and fortune favors you. If you can take on this responsibility of your own accord..."
Chen Chang'an interrupted: "And then what? Sacrifice myself for others, to fulfill their greater good?"
He shook his head. "Sir, forgive my bluntness. If Heaven truly wanted me to bear this great responsibility, why not send a revelation directly? Why must it be through your mouth?"
The person was silent for a moment: "Heaven is unpredictable and does not intervene directly. I am here today to give you a choice."
"A choice?" Chen Chang'an sneered. "Then my choice is this: if heaven is about to fall, let those who have lived long lives face it first."
The Cloud Terrace began to tremble slightly, as if in response to this disrespectful remark.
The person finally showed a hint of surprise: "You are more stubborn than I imagined."
"Not stubborn, but clear-headed," Chen Chang'an said, meeting his gaze. "I refuse to believe that my mere few hundred years of lifespan can carry such a great karmic burden!"
He sneered: "Even if Heaven demands a price, it should be those who once stood so high and devoured so much who must first spit it back out. This so-called great tribulation is nothing more than those who have eaten too much being unwilling to part with it, yet they repeatedly force the starving mortals to bear the brunt of it."
"That is why the tribulations grow more severe with each passing cycle, until the primordial world itself is shattered. You are a sage; I refuse to believe you cannot see through this. It's just that those who have eaten too much happen to be your disciples, your friends."
The sea of clouds suddenly solidified.
The person stared at Chen Chang'an, his face devoid of emotion, like the unchanging ancient sky. "So that's it. Since you have already made up your mind, it seems my trip here was unnecessary."
For the first time, a hint of fluctuation appeared in his tone.
Then, he slowly rose to his feet and spoke his last words: "However... to contend with Heaven, you are not yet qualified. A hundred years from now, when you can unify the fate of the lower realm, then we shall speak again."
With that, he rose and brushed his sleeve. With every step, lotuses bloomed beneath his feet, carrying him towards the heavens.
The two Dao attendants hurriedly followed, leaving three receding silhouettes amidst the clouds.
Chen Chang'an stood alone on the high platform, watching as the heavenly rift gradually closed, his fists silently clenched in his sleeves.
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